Let's get this show on the road.
Federal agents! Get down!
Turn this thing off.
- You're Pusher, I presume. - You must be Frank Burst.
You know, I gotta tell ya. You got the greatest name.
Agent Collins, read him his rights.
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you.
- Think you can hold me? - I want him in leg irons!
I want him in a car with a cage! I'll ride shotgun.
It'd really help me out if you gave us your name.
Pusher's good enough.
You know, Deputy, your uniform is really the most soothing shade of blue.
I'm not kidding you. I notice those things. It's a sky blue.
Very calming. Very... tranquil.
I think the word for that particular shade is cerulean, actually.
- Cerulean blue. - OK, OK, we get it. It's a nice shade of blue.
Cerulean blue.
Cerulean makes me think of a breeze.
- A gentle breeze. - Hey, Mr Blackwell. Put a sock in it.
Cerulean is a gentle breeze.
Cerulean. A gentle breeze.
Stop!
When the truck hit us I was knocked unconscious.
Deputy Scott Kerber was mortally injured.
Before he succumbed, he managed to pull himself out of the car, dig out his keys...
And his last breath was spent unlocking my prisoner,...
..who, despite his own injuries, managed to escape on foot.
Calls himself "Pusher".
- What's his story? - He cold-called me about a month ago.
Confessed to a series of contract killings going back over two years.
- He wanted to turn himself in? - No. It was a game. He was bragging.
The thing about these murders is, nobody considers them murders.
They went down in the books as suicides.
- So you think he was just a crank? - No.
He knows too much about each case.
Too many details that were only in the police reports.
What link did this dead deputy have with him?
None, as far as I can tell. Kerber was a good cop.
Then why did he free him?
Pusher kept rambling about cerulean blue,...
..kept saying how it reminded him of a breeze or somethin'.
"Cerulean blue is like a gentle breeze."
Over and over.
And then Kerber pulled into the truck and... blammo.
So you think Pusher somehow talked him into doing this, willed him into doing that?
Willed him? How?
No kiddin'. How?
Your guess is as good as mine on this one.
See, Pusher likes to leave clues.
- Ronin. - Ronin. It's a samurai without a master.
- You never saw Yojimbo? - Still, what does it mean?
It means I bet I know what he's got stacked on the back of his toilet.
Agents? Here's volume ten.
I'm sorry. I couldn't help noticing.
I was in Georgetown this weekend. A guy knocked me down, stole my purse.
- They get him? - Do they ever?
No offence.
'Scuse me.
I'm still not sure what we're looking for.
Samurais without masters have to advertise.
Yes, but advertise for what? I mean...
How did this Pusher convince an otherwise honest deputy sheriff to free him?
- I'm sure you have a theory. - Suggestion is a powerful force.
The science of hypnosis is predicated on it, as are TV commercials.
They're made to plant thoughts in your head.
Inducing someone to buy a hair colour
isn't like inducing them to drive in front of a truck.
But the mechanism is the same. It's just a lot more powerful in this case.
This guy calls himself Pusher. Couldn't that mean he pushes his will onto other people?
Even if he could, why would he cause an accident when he himself was in the car?
Maybe he really didn't wanna go to jail.
Look at this.
"I solve problems. OSU."
OSU. Ohio State University?
No, it's a Virginia code.
I've seen this ad in all these magazines dating back to April 1994.
The time span of the murders.
OSU.
OS...
..U. Jeez!
Osu. It's a Japanese word. It means "to push".
I say we run down those telephone numbers.
Hey.
- I think you drooled on me. - Sorry.
- What time is it? - It's, uh... twenty to three.
- No luck, I take it? - No, nothing at any of the pay phones.
Burst is beginning to think it's a wild-goose chase.
Hello?
Are you two just gonna sit there all night?
Don't bother hunting around for me. I'm far away.
- They're on the trace. - I was watching you up until an hour ago.
You and your pretty partner seem awfully close.
- What's your name? - Sony, G-man. It's not that easy.
You have to follow my little breadcrumb trail.
Prove your worth. So far you're doin’ all right.
Why do I have to prove my worth to you? Do you think this is a game?
What, do you want to be found?
- All right, where's my next breadcrumb? - Right in front of you.
Let your ﬁngers do the walking, G-man.
- Sony, we didn’t get him. - OK.
Not a complete trace. They think he was using a digital scrambler.
- "Let your fingers do the walking." - Phone book.
What if Pusher was the last person to use this phone? Can you redial on these phones?
Hang on a second.
- Murphy. - Yeah, it's me again.
We want the last number dialed out from this location. Just ring it on through.
- OK. - OK.
Hi! You’ve reached Tee-Totalers golf driving range and pro shop.
Our hours of operation are 7 a.m. to midnight Monday through Saturday...
..and 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. on Sunday.
- So he's a killer and a golfer. - Rings a bell, huh?
Let's go, G-woman.
Oh, yeah! Strong shot.
Good shot. Woo-hoo!
All right, gentlemen. I'm usin' this non-sanctioned ball.
It's got a core of uranium - or some damn thing. I don't know what.
Gets up there like Sputnik.
Yeah!
About time.
Konnichiwa, gentlemen. I was never here.
- Police! Get down! - Whoa! OK.
OK. OK, relax.
Relax.
Let me see your face.
Take it easy. Come on.
That's right.
Hey, Collins.
Listen.
I need you to do somethin' for me.
Will you do somethin' for me?
Mulder.
Collins?
What the hell...?
What the hell are you doin'?
Collins, let it go.
Stop me!
Collins!
Put that down.
Light up, light up.
Come in. This is Burst. Get a burn unit over here. Collins is down.
Bad. Yeah, real bad. I don't know what happened. Get over here!
Get somebody over here. Now!
Collins, it's all right.
- Federal agent! - Light up. Light, light.
Light up.
Bet you five bucks I get off.
Rise and state your name and address for the court.
Robert Patrick Modell,...
..3083 Roseneath Avenue, Apartment 9, Alexandria, Virginia.
Agent Mulder, does the FBI believe that
this defendant is responsible for 14 murders?
That is correct, Your Honour.
Well, in each of the cases the coroner's office ruled suicide.
We believe that they were indeed murders, Your Honour.
You believe? But do you have any actionable evidence?
We have the defendant on tape confessing to the murders on several occasions.
He identifies them as such,
and knows crime scene details only available to the police.
One of these so-called murder victims threw herself under a commuter train.
This was a crowded platform. 100 witnesses.
Nobody pushed her. No one was within 30 feet of her.
- But your client was present. - Which is how he knew the details.
- Make your point. - I believe that these people died...
..because it was the defendant's express will that they do so.
His will?
This man admitted to being a killer for hire.
He has a unique suggestive ability which makes for the perfect MO.
He can talk his victims into injuring themselves.
- I can't believe this! - Could you run that by me one more time?
Yesterday a law-enforcement officer
was induced to self-immolation by the defendant.
I witnessed it. All these other officers witnessed it.
- We have his confession. All we're ask... - Your Honour,...
..the evidence chain for this case has been difficult to establish.
We'd like to have Mr Modell held for trial based on his taped confession.
What about this audio tape, Mr Modell?
- Did you confess to 14 murders? - Keep it simple.
Unfortunately, yes, Your Honour. Not that I remember any of it.
This was basically a drunken phone prank on the part of my client, Your Honour.
A phone prank? He had the details of every case, Your Honour.
And Robert deeply regrets the distress and confusion this situation has caused.
Do you deny these charges?
Absolutely, Your Honour. I'm not guilty.
Thank you very much.
Would you excuse me for a minute?
I believe you owe me five dollars.
Hey, your shoe's untied.
Made you look.
How do you do it?
Hey, Modell.
I know your name now. I know where you live!
I dug up a few more things under "Modell".
Let me guess. He was an average student, he did an average stint in the military.
- Which branch? - Not his first choice.
He wanted to be a navy SEAL and then he wanted to be an army Green Beret.
He washed out of both - though not for lack of intelligence.
He ended up as a supply clerk at Fort Bragg. Served two years, general discharge.
Did you know he applied to the FBI? Didn't come close to passing the psych screening.
- You got a copy of that? - Yeah.
They found him to be "acutely ego-centered".
"He has no regard for the feelings of others, perceiving people as objects."
"He is extremely suspicious of government and authority."
Yet he wants to be in authority.
The screener caught him in a dozen self-aggrandising lies,...
..saying that he was a master of martial arts and had been trained by ninjas in Japan.
Ninjas are said to have the ability to cloud the minds of their opponents.
Are we talking kung fu movies?
He certainly clouded the mind of that judge.
Even if he could, he didn't need to. We barely had a case.
We had enough to get past a simple preliminary hearing.
Modell put the whammy on him.
Please explain the scientific nature of the whammy.
I don't know. Maybe it's some mental aspect of some martial art,...
..the suppression of the brain's chemistry produced by a cadence in Modell's voice.
- His voice seems to be the key. - Modell's last known employment...
..was as a convenience-store clerk.
He has never been trained by ninjas. He has never even been out of the US.
He is just a little man who wishes that he were someone big.
And we're feeding that wish. That failed psych screening -
if Modell could actually control people's minds, he'd be an FBI agent, right?
He'd be a Green Beret, a navy SEAL.
Maybe the ability came to him more recently, like in the last two years.
Well, OK. What's your big theory? How do you explain what Agent Collins did?
This is a sane man, a family man with no history of psychological problems...
Sets himself on fire. How does that happen?
What do you need me to say? That I believe that Model! is guilty of murder? I do.
I'm just looking for an explanation a little more mundane than the whammy.
He's laughing at us, Scully.
Excuse me. Where might I find the computer records section?
Fourth floor. West wing.
Thank you very much.
Can I help you?
I need to know some things,...
..Holly.
Great. Just, uh... let me have the keyboard for a minute.
I'd love a printout of this.
And a cup of coffee, when you get a chance.
I wish I could get my hands on the guy that did that to you. I'd make him pay.
- Can I help you? - No. No, thanks. We're, uh...
We're just fine.
Look, we're in the middle of something here, so...
- Who are you and what are you doin' here? - Take a walk, Mel Cooley!
- Let me go. Just let me go! - Shut up!
Holly, call Security.
Holly... he's the one.
He's the one who mugged you.
Holly, call Security now!
- Make him stop hurtin' me, Holly. - Shut up! Holly, now!
- Holly... - Holly!
- Security. - I've got a situation. Fourth floor.
God!
Hurt him back.
Sir... I'm so terribly, terribly sorry.
I don't know why I...
God.
I'm so sorry.
All right, let's hit the bricks, huh?
Holly, can you tell us anything more that might help us understand...
.. why you attacked Assistant Director Skinner?
It's like suddenly I was watching myself from across the room.
Doing... these things.
It's like he was with me, inside my head.
Modell?
- That's the only way I know how to put it. - Excuse me, sir.
- Can we speak outside? - Yeah. Sure. Uh...
Holly, excuse us for a minute, please.
The building security tapes show Modell clearly entering and leaving unnoticed.
He had the word "Pass" on his lapel.
The guards that waved him by don't even remember him.
And this mysterious phenomenon is why I have a size-seven heel mark on my face?
I have to agree with Agent Mulder, sir.
I can't even begin to explain how, but I think Model! is responsible for your injuries.
- Why is this guy so interested in you? - What do you mean?
He left with one file: yours. He didn't access any others.
- Now he knows where you live. - And you know where he lives. Pick him up.
For what? About the only thing we got on him now is criminal trespass.
That's enough for a warrant.
Police!
Modell!
- Lights coming on! - Look me right in the eyes.
Right in the eyes.
No, please. Let me go.
Svengali.
No...
- All clear. No one's home. - Search the whole building.
Nearby buildings too. He likes to watch from a distance.
Check the place out and I'll talk to the neighbours.
Hey, Scully, check this out.
Mango Kiwi Tropical Swirl.
Now we know we're dealin' with a madman.
Is there anything else you can tell me? Yeah?
Yeah, when does it date to?
Right.
Thank you very much.
- Tegretol. - What's that?
It's to relieve Modell's seizures. He has temporal lobe epilepsy.
His doctor's office wouldn't give me much over the phone.
Just that that prescription dates back to April 1994.
What causes epilepsy this late in life?
A head injury, neurological disease, a brain tumour or lesion...
A tumour? The growth of brain tumours has been linked with psychic ability.
- Those reports are unsubstantiated. - Just bear with me for a second.
What if Modell's suggestive ability is really a form of psychokinesis?
- Brought on by the tumour? - It fits. All those protein drinks.
He's gotta replenish the metabolic energy he uses in controlling somebody's will.
Mulder, more to the point, if Modell did have a brain tumour,...
..the effects on his health would be more acute.
He simply wouldn't be well enough to play these games with us.
Maybe he isn't. Maybe that's the whole point.
- What? - His exhaustion at the range.
He didn't let us capture him. He was too sick to escape, too wiped out.
Why would such a proficient killer confess to murders he'd already gotten away with?
- Maybe he's dying. - And he wants to go out in a blaze of glory.
Not with a whimper, but a bang.
Get the tracing gear.
- Hello? - Hey, hey, hey. Whaddaya say?
What's up, Modell? How you doin'?
Told you I know where you live.
Nice apartment. Who does your decorating, the Grinch that stole Christmas?
Agent Frank Burst. The guy with the great name.
Say, Frank, are Agents Mulder and Scully there?
- Yeah, we're here. - Perfect.
Frank, how much do you weigh?
- Excuse me? - About how much do you weigh?
Anything to keep you talking, you... I don't know, about 190, 195.
Ha! 215 if you're a day. You're totally the wrong weight for your height.
No offence, but you're built like a ﬁreplug.
And I got stubby little legs to kick you in the ass. You goin' somewhere with this?
It's just that it can’t be healthy. And you look like you're a smoker.
You probably take a drink now and then.
You eat greasy fried foods. Sausage, bacon...
- Frank... - Onion rings that stain the cardboard.
And I'm guessin' you shake on that salt like a maraca!
Frank. Frank, hang up the phone.
What are you talkin' about? What's your point?
You know what that's doing to your arteries.
- Terrible things, Frank. - Frank...
Waxy, yellow chunks of plaque are tumbling through your bloodstream...
..sticking like glue to your arterial walls,...
- Hang up the phone. - ..squeezing shut your aorta.
- Can you feel it? - Come on.
- Can you feel your aorta... - Hang up the phone!
- Back off! - ..squeezing shut?
- All those miles of... - Hang up!
I said back off!
- Hang it up! - Finish the trace!
- Mulder... - Hang up the phone!
..medical condition called pachyemia?
It's when the blood thickens up in your veins like strawberry jam.
- Finish the trace! - Frank, hang it up!
- Hang up! - Your heart flatlines.
Beeeep...
Frank!
You die, Frank.
Frank?
Yo, Frank!
No pulse. Get an ambulance.
We need an ambulance to 3083 Roseneath Avenue. Possible cardiac arrest.
- Modell? - Hey. Mulder.
How's Frankie-boy?
What is it, Modell, really, that you want?
A worthy adversaly. It's obviously not that fat lump lyin' at your feet.
Now I'm hopin' it's you.
Why me?
I’ve read all about you. You're a top criminal proﬁler.
Oxford University grad. All-round bright young man.
You know what makes guys like me tick, right?
You think you see right through old Bob Modell.
Sick old Bob Modell, right?
You're dying, aren't you, Bob?
What, do you want to take a few innocent people with you before you go?
Biology tell us we're all dyin'. And original sin tells me ain’t nobody innocent.
Some are more innocent than others. Why not just tell me where you are?
Oh, what... you want the phone number?
Sure. Just, uh... It's 555-0197.
You know, it's just a pay phone. In two minutes I'll be gone.
You mean you killed this man for nothing, you sick bastard?
Me? No, haven't you caught on, Mulder? They all kill themselves.
- Where's Modell calling from? - A gas-station parking lot.
12,000 block, Chain Bridge Road. It's a pay phone. Just like he said.
Fairfax Mercy Hospital's right down the street from there, huh?
Fairfax Mercy Pharmacy.
He must need regular treatment, Mulder.
Let's go find out.
We got a visual flat on the door.
Come on up.
Here they go.
We found Modell’s car. Engine's still warm. He's probably in the building.
All entrances covered. Do we hold or go in?
- Hold. - All right, thank you.
- Hold. - Roger.
The outpatient office says Model! is scheduled for a 2.30 MRI. That's right now.
- How do you wanna play this? - I think I should go in alone.
- Why? - My team can flush him out.
What if he turns one of your men against the others? In a crowded hospital?
I think we should give him what he wants.
You.
We stand a better chance if we're separated.
I'll go in miked. That way you'll know what he's doin', where he is at all times.
- You got a radio, to keep my hands free? - I got just what you need.
Two-lux video camera. It'll practically see in the dark.
It's designed for bomb disposal works, keeping only officer at risk. See?
Think I get the Playboy Channel?
Smile, Scully.
- Take it. - No.
I wouldn't want to end up pointing it at anybody except Modell.
Let's get this show on the road.
Federal agent. Go about your business as usual.
Scully, do you read me?
I'm with you, Mulder.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
- SWAT team, hold outside. - SWAT team still holding.
Mulder!
- Two shots ﬁred. - SWAT team!
Not yet. Everybody keep moving. Federal agent!
- Let me see what the hell's goin’ on. - I'm losing you.
Mulder. Agent Mulder!
Wait. Agent Scully.
You getting this back there?
What happened?
Looks like the guard shot the technician, then he shot himself. His gun is missing.
Tell your men Modell may be heading your way.
SWAT team. Suspect is armed and may be making his way out of the building.
- We copy. - Shooters in place
Mulder, wait. Get closer to the computer monitor.
- Over here? - Yeah, yeah, yeah. Right there.
There. That light mass in his temporal lobe.
- Right here? - You were right, Mulder.
Now check around you. Modell’s chart should be somewhere around there.
We're battin' a thousand, Scully. Modell's dying. He's got nothin' to lose.
Mulder, just get out of there. Go.
Mulder?
Mulder!
God!
We think they're three doors down.
There's six critical-care rooms we can't get to.
If we gas the halls, we might kill those patients.
Why do we keep givin' this guy exactly what he wants?
Just wait for a signal from me.
We're clear.
Mulder.
Thanks for joining us.
We've got a dozen law-enforcement officers outside in the hall.
Another 30 in the parking lot.
Regular convention.
So whatever you've got planned, it's not gonna work out the way you want it to.
You don't know what I got planned.
Two warriors of equal skill fight to the death.
One is a student of Japanese budo: the way of war.
Budo teaches the warrior to leave himself outside the battle.
In other words, to disregard his own death.
Because of that, the budo warrior always wins.
I am that warrior.
I don't fear my death.
So I... I'm gonna give you...
..one pull of the trigger against me.
One in six chance.
One. One pull.
Wait. Mulder, look.
There's pure oxygen in this room.
There's no telling what could happen if you pull that trigger...
Piece of cake.
Your turn.
- Mulder, no. - Mulder, yes.
- Go. - Mulder, listen to me.
Give me the gun.
We can stop this thing now. You and I can just walk outside of this room...
No! Damn you! You bastard!
Mulder, hand me the gu...
Mulder, you don't have to do this.
- You're stronger than this. - Your turn, Scully. Gotta play by the rules.
- Pull the trigger, Mulder. - Mulder, fight him. You can fight this.
Come on! Pull the trigger, Mulder.
She shot you. I read it in her files. Payback time. Shoot the little spy!
I'm gonna kill you, Modell.
Pull the trigger and get another crack at me.
Scully, run!
Scully. ..
Federal agents! Get down, get down, get down!
There's no telling how long he'll hang on,...
..but he'll never regain consciousness.
You know, we thought he was undergoing treatment. We were wrong.
- What do you mean? - Read his chart.
The MRIs were gauging how much life he had left,
but he consistently refused treatment.
The tumour was operable right up to the end, but he refused to have it removed.
- Why? - I think it's like you said.
He was always such a... little man.
This was finally something that made him feel big.
I say we don't let him take up another minute of our time.
I made this!