Krycek snorted. "She told him I was lying in order to get them to take
along a friend of mine who wasn't really her child. I told him he
could judge for himself. That he could leave without us if he could
look me in the eyes and honestly say we weren't brothers and, to seal
the bargain, I'd leave my Mayor McCheese with them, so they'd know I
meant to come back, if they would leave their car keys with me, so I'd
know they wouldn't take off without us in the meantime. He agreed. So
I snuck Mikey out, and brought him to the front gate. Well, one look
at the two of us together, and there was no denying we were brothers.

"Papa Wintersoul said perhaps we ought to go in and talk to the Head
Master and clear the matter up. I thought Mama Wintersoul was going to
have kittens on the spot! So I told him that anybody who would lie to
a little kid like me about his mother being dead, who would lie to a
sick woman about having a live birth, who would let that mother come
to take *me* back without also telling her about her other son and
allowing her the option of taking him back, as well, were up to no
good and couldn't be trusted. Then I told him that no one would miss
Mikey until bed check, so we should just take him and scram. Mama
agreed. So Papa told us to get in the car, and we lit out of there
like a house afire."

Krycek grinned evilly as if engineering his little brother's freedom
had been the high-light of his life. "The first time Mama Wintersoul
could get me alone, she told me that I may have gotten my way about
Mikey, but I shouldn't push my luck. We both needed Papa to think she
was my real mother; me, so Mikey and I wouldn't get sent back to the
academy, and her so Papa wouldn't divorce her. So we agreed to keep it
our secret and we never mentioned it again, only, of course, that
meant I could never talk about Viktor again."

"So he became some kid you stole the toy from, instead of your
brother," Skinner guessed.

"...Yeah."

"But there were three of you." Skinner said. "You, Mikey, and
Vassily."

Krycek shrugged. "How many children could the poor woman have without
knowing about it? Besides, Vassily was on the top floor by then. Mikey
was still on the third floor."

"What does what floor they were on have to do with anything?" Skinner
asked.

Krycek smiled apologetically. "The academy's dorms were on the top six
floors of the main building. They were divided into girl's wards and
boy's wards. Thirty beds to a ward. The oldest kids --they were
fifteen and sixteen-- were on the top floor, the rest filled in the
lower floors by descending age, with the littlest ones, the five and
six year olds, on the third floor --closest to the bathrooms, which
were on the second floor along with the s-showers, the mess hall, and
the kitchen. The staff lounge and library and Head Master Arntzen's
office were on the first floor, and the janitor and supply rooms were
in the basement."

"You said 'main building.' What other buildings were there?" 

"Um, the workshop, the schoolrooms, the gymnasium, the armory, the
athletic field, and the 'p-parents lodge.' The d-dungeon --where they
put you when you m-mis-behaved-- was in the basement of the lodge....
I h-hated it! Just thinking about it makes me want to puke."

Skinner frowned, noting the uncharacteristic stuttering. "Sounds
pretty elaborate. What kinds of classes did you take?"

"Well, they had a whole range of classes: physics, chemistry, biology,
electronics, math, computer programming, martial arts, track and
field, swimming, wrestling, gymnastics, marksmanship, auto mechanics,
carpentry, metal shop, drama, dance, photography --even a
'comportment' class," Krycek grimaced in remembrance. "But I was too
young to take most of them.

"In fact, me and Mikey spent our first year there just sitting in our
classes trying to figure out enough of the languages to get by. See,
the kids who lived there were from all over the map --and so was the
staff, and there wasn't a predominate language. Our course books were
in whichever language the teacher spoke, and it was against the rules
for pupils to translate for other pupils. So, the hardest part of our
curriculum was learning how to communicate with our teachers! That's
how I learned German, Cantonese, Russian, Spanish, and French."

"Damn! Talk about 'deep immersion' learning!" Skinner exclaimed. 

"Yeah," Krycek agreed. "But they stuck."

"So, you spoke five--"

"--Six," Krycek interrupted.

"Six languages at this academy, and you never left the grounds the
whole time you were there?" Krycek nodded. "So, you have no way of
knowing what country the academy was in, or who actually ran it?"

Krycek nodded again. "It didn't help that I didn't know how to read
when we arrived, and I was too busy impressing my new parents to stare
out the windows and figure out what language the street signs were in
when we left. Not to mention, after Mikey and I got into the car, we
drove straight to an airfield, right onto the tarmac, climbed directly
onto a U.S. Air Force transport plane, and landed at El Toro Air Base.
Add to that Mama Wintersoul's refusal to speak about the whole
incident ever again, and, well, now that they're dead, I figure I'll
never know the truth."

"Have you got any idea of how, uh, 'Mama Wintersoul' came to claim you
as her own?"

Krycek shrugged. "I never thought about it. She had a birth
certificate that she claimed was mine, but it had to be a fake, since
she wasn't really my mother, right? Other than that...well, I don't
really have any idea how she did it, and I didn't really care as long
as Mikey and I were out of that hell hole. All I wanted to do was fit
into the family so they wouldn't send us back, you know?"

Skinner nodded. "Understandable.*Then.* But you're grown, now. Old
enough to realize that that high a level of organization points to a
larger agency --and a definite agenda. Which...sort of leads me to
suspect that, uh --well, have you ever considered the possibility that
'Mama Wintersoul' was a spy?"

Krycek grinned. "Oh, yeah! It occurred. After I was up to my ass in
Consortium crocodiles."

"Well, if she had connections to your 'academy,' then researching her
background might point you to details about your own background."

Krycek shrugged. "She answered to the name 'Elena.' I never asked
about her maiden name. She was Russian. She never mentioned or
introduced us to any relatives, but I do know she met Papa Wintersoul
in Moscow, while he was stationed at the embassy. They married just
before they left the country and had two kids, Irene and Jack, by the
time they came and got me and Mikey. She was supposedly a scientist
whose work had put her in disfavor with the Russian government or
something. Once we moved to Quantico, she took a job as a biochemist
with some pharmaceutical firm, and she was an absentee mom forever
after."

"Leaving you to take care of the other kids and the house?" Skinner
speculated.

"Yeah, that would be me: Little Miss Susie Homemaker."

Skinner nodded. Krycek's life was beginning to make a lot more sense
to him. "Do you think you were in Russia when they, uh, adopted you?"

"I don't know. If my real parents were Russian emigres, why would Papa
turn around and sell us to the Russians?"

"No reason I can think of," Skinner commented off-handedly. "From the
sound of things, though, your 'academy' was probably a spy school for
orphans, and it's a well known fact that the Russians have operated
such facilities since World War II."

"But they're not the *only* country that has such schools," Krycek
pointed out.

"Well, not among other, uh, Communist countries, no," Skinner agreed. 

"So you think I'm a Commie?" Krycek spat indignantly, before he
allowed: "Well,...I suppose it's possible the school was run by
Commies. But even if I *did* come from a Communist spy school, I was
too young to have been turned into much of a weapon. I mean, my birth
certificate said I was nine when I left.

"Of course, that doesn't prove I was actually nine, just that that's
the age she needed me to be. Though I was probably within two years of
nine. Individual birthdays were never mentioned at the academy, but
most of the kids knew how old they were within two years, 'cause
that's how old their wards were. Typically, kids were assigned to a
ward when they arrived, and they moved up a floor when their ward did,
which was every two years. Because of Mikey, though, I was a special
case. Up until the beginning of that academic year, when I was moved
to the fifth floor, Mikey and I shared a bed on the third floor.

"The first time the Wintersouls threw me a birthday party I was
surprised. I mean, ice cream and cake and games and presents? I loved
it so much that I tried to convince them I had another birthday later
that year," Krycek smiled sheepishly. "Needless to say, it didn't
work."

Skinner shook his head. Nine years old and already a schemer. Krycek
was a born grifter. "So, how old were you when you moved to Quantico?"

"Oh. Let's see...After a year at Camp Pendleton, we transferred to
Hong Kong. Two years later we went to Parris Island, and a year after
that we moved to Quantico. So I was like...fourteen."

"And was out on your ear by sixteen," Skinner said.

"Yeah. It kind of reminded me about these fights my real parents used
to get into, over Vadim."

"Vadim? You never mentioned a brother named Vadim," Skinner said.

Krycek shrugged. "I never met him. He was a sore subject with my
parents, though. They were always bemoaning the fact that he was gone:
'Better it should have been Vassily,' 'We gave away the wrong son.'
they used to say."

"Oo. Must have made Vassily feel right at home."

"Hah! I don't think anybody cared. Least of all Vassily. I mean, it
was a done deal. It wasn't like they could go back in time and change
their minds. Anyway, they only made a fuss when he got into *big*
trouble --though that was often enough. Vassily was such a first class
Bastard," Krycek said.

"Viktor was younger than he, but Mama always left him in charge of us
kids, 'cause Vassily would hurt us or run out on us. He wouldn't
change Mikey's diapers or feed us. He was always causing trouble. He
was just plain mean, and contrary from head to toe."

Skinner pursed his lips."Vladimir, Vadim, Vassily, Viktor. There's a
definite trend going on there."

Krycek chuckled. "Yeah."

"I guess that's how you knew Alexei wasn't your real name, huh?"

"Yeah."

"So, what are your and Mikey's real names""

"Valery," Krycek said emphasizing the second syllable, so it almost
sounded like 'Vah-Larry,' striking his chest with his palm as he said
it. "And Mikey's name was Volodny."

"Hey, that means you really *are* a 'Val.' Hah! Mulder would shit
bricks if he knew. I'm impressed. Most three-year-olds wouldn't have
remembered that. Your memory must be as phenomenal as Mulder's."

Krycek gave an embarrassed snort. "Not exactly. Vassily told me."

"Oh. Well, that was one nice thing he did, then. Do you know what
happened to Vassily?"

Krycek glanced down at his toes again, suddenly. 

"Val? Don't hold out on me now, OK?" Skinner asked.

Krycek sighed noisily. "Captain Vassily Arntzen is with the Russian
Army. *And* the Russian Consortium. I found out when I was working for
Spender. In fact, Spender had a set of I.D. forged for me in Vassily's
name so I could enter and exit Russia at will. That's another reason
why I thought I'd be better off in Russia with Mulder. I knew I could
pass myself off as Vassily and --as long as I didn't run into him, or
anyone who knew him really well, or had seen him very recently-- I'd
be able to keep us safe.

"When Mulder and I were caught in Tunguska, I told the Commandant I
was working under-cover. Only, after I got my arm hacked off, Vassily
came to the camp.... Once they recaptured me, and they ran my DNA, he
asked me if I was Valery or Volodny. Once I heard the names, I*knew* I
was Valery. I asked him what our real last name was, but he said he
didn't remember. Then he told me that if I wanted to get out of the
camp alive I'd do as he said.... Then he gave me to his men for a fuck
toy. My ass paid for a trip to Leningrad, a prosthetic, and five
months of physical therapy.... When I was ready to leave the hospital,
I told him I didn't want to go back to the States because Spender
wanted me dead. He checked my story out, found out Spender had already
tried to kill me twice, and put me in a uniform and set me to
patrolling the lighthouses --the alien pick-up sites.

"Then the rebels showed up and torched some abductees, which drew
Marita to the site to investigate.... I knew she was American
Consortium, and that, with her connections, she could get me back into
the country. So I tumbled her. She made the arrangements, and I
secured the only living witness and stole a sample of the vaccine....

"She screwed me over the minute I landed on American soil," Krycek
smiled bitterly. "She knocked me out, trussed me up, and left me to
The Butler's tender mercies while she danced off with my witness.
Unfortunately for her, I didn't trust her as much as she thought I
did. So, instead of a fat pay day, she got a Level V containment cell
in a biochemical research facility and a chance to play guinea pig for
Ole Smoky."

He shrugged. "I saved my ass by turning over the vaccine to The Butler
and signing on as his minion, which was a pretty sweet deal
considering the alternatives," he sighed. "I guess I should be glad,
'cause if The Butler hadn't gotten ahold of the antidote when he did,
there wouldn't have been time to get it into production in time to
save Scully, and if Scully had died, Mulder would have probably
self-destructed-- right after he figured out a way to take me with
him."

He snorted. "Shit! I need to clear my head. Permission to take a
couple of laps around the roof?"

Skinner sighed but nodded. "Take Mulder with you and make it a short
mile. I'm going to take a shower, then we are going to eat breakfast
and head over to the Federal Building to see if agent Wong's come up
with anything."

Krycek brightened at the mention of Mulder's name. "Yes, sir," he
saluted. He bounced off the bed, picked up the phone, and called
Mulder's room, his hips swaying like a teen-aged girl mooning over the
Captain of the football team. "Hey, Mull-dahr, boss-man says you've
got to take me for a walk--....no,  *really*: jogging...on the
roof....*Really.*" He held the phone out towards Skinner. "Tell him,"
He implored.

"Bodyguard duty, Mulder!" Skinner yelled in the direction of the
receiver as he was retrieved his clothes from the floor.

Krycek grinned. "Hear that?... Good. I'll be at--....OK. See you
when." He hung up and beamed at Skinner. "All set. Mulder insists I
stay here until he arrives, so I won't be alone for a single second."

"I'm glad to see he's taking his duties seriously," Skinner said
before he ducked into the bathroom and reminded himself how foolish he
was to even contemplate a relationship with the lovelorn spy.

Alex put on his prosthesis, threw on his brand new running suit,
socks, and running shoes, stared at the homing device watch laying on
the night table, and slipped it over his right wrist, thankful for the
stretch band. Mulder knocked on the door a minute later, and Krycek
snagged his leather jacket out of the closet on his way to answer the
door. They took the elevator up to the garden rooftop, Krycek bouncing
up and down the entire trip, like a Thoroughbred being led to the
starting gate.

"Whoa!" Mulder exclaimed as the elevator doors opened up and Krycek
bounded out into a fog shrouded paradise fading into a misty wraith
almost immediately. Fox waved his arms and tendrils of fog swirled
away, rolling into tiny vortexes that collided with the unaffected
mist farther away. "I can barely see my hands in front of my face!" he
groused as he stepped cautiously after his excitable companion.

"It's not that bad," Krycek said as he peered into the mist to discern
the grey-shrouded forms of trees a few yards away. "The track's over
here," Krycek said. He bounced over to the rubberized track surface,
while Mulder found a convenient tree planter to use as a barre to do
his stretching exercises. "Will you come on, already?" Krycek urged as
he danced in place, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket
flapping their respective halves like wings.

"Hey! Just wait, will you, you could jog yourself right off the roof,
if you're not careful. Not to mention, it wouldn't hurt you to warm
up. You can get shin splints running on cold muscles, you know?"

"Shin splints, schim plints, I wanna run!" Krycek took off down the
track. "Bet I lap you before you even find the track!" he yelled, his
form already lost in the swirling mist.

"Krycek! Don't be so impatient!" Mulder yelled as he gave up his
stretching in order to jog into the void after him. "You could hurt
yourself!"

"Hah!" Clang! Whack! "Ow!" Thud! "Damnit! Some idiot left a lounge
chair on the track!"

Mulder smirked. "Told ya!"

Kick! Clatter. "Shit!" Krycek whined, having wounded himself during
his retaliatory outburst. "Mutter, mutter, ulf!" Kick! Skitter. Clack!
Wang! Boot. Yaw....

"Going to be sensible, now, Krycek?.... Krycek?....*sigh*!
Percival!?...." Mulder trotted in Krycek's direction. "Don't jerk me
around you dirt wad!" Mulder stopped as he came across a veritable
patio furniture pile-up involving the offending lounge chair Krycek
had crashed into. It was upside-down and abutting two skewed patio
chairs and the table they attended. The umbrella was still twirling
slowly from the impact. But of Krycek there was no sign.

"Percival!!!?" Mulder yelled. He jogged around the track. Nothing. No
one. Mulder's blood froze. He made one more circuit of the entire roof
area, carefully looking for anything out of place. He found a wadded
up cloth by the service elevator. He took note of how it was placed,
then picked it up and sniffed: Chloroform.

"Oh, shit!"

Mulder tried to open the service elevator door, but it required a key.
He looked around, spotted the emergency stairwell, and sprinted down
to the third floor. He pounded on Skinner's door.

"Skinner! Skinner! He's got Krycek!"

The door whipped open. "What?"

"Krycek's gone." He held up the cloth. "Somebody snatched him right
off the roof."

"Shit!" Skinner retreated to the phone and called the management.
"This is Assistant Director Walter Skinner, of the F.B.I. I want your
staff to seal off all the entrances to this hotel, now! ...All of
them!" He grabbed up his cell phone and dialed Wong's office so the
agent could activate his homing equipment. Then he called Inspector
Lloyd, and relayed the bad news. "Guess we won't have to send out a
team to Daly City, afterall," he concluded.

"Oh, shit!" Lloyd cursed. 

"Lucky for us he had all of his transmitters on him. Agent Wong is
priming the system as we speak. He said he'd call-- wait, that might
be him. Stand by." Skinner said as he lowered the arm holding the cell
phone to bring the receiver of the room phone up to his ear with his
other hand. "Skinner here...OK. I'll get a man on it. Mulder! Agent
Wong says the signal from Val's watch is still in the hotel
proper...on the top floor."

"The top floor! Got it!" Mulder yelled. He dashed out the door without
further orders.

"Northeast side of the elevator!" Skinner yelled out the door after
him.

"Got it!"

Skinner called the hotel management and asked them to send whatever
security men they could spare from guarding the exits up to the top
floor with a pass key. Then he relayed Krycek's preliminary location
to Lloyd, and asked that he send any nearby units ASAP to process the
people waiting at the exit points. That done, he pocketed his cell
phone, checked his weapon: loaded and ready, and headed for the
stairs.

Security had sent one man up with the pass key, the other officers
having been deployed at the service and customer exits. He and Mulder
were striding up the corridor. Skinner ran to catch them.

"Northeast side of the elevator," Mulder muttered. 

Skinner caught up to them as they stopped in front of the proper door.

"This is it," Mulder said to Skinner as the hotel dick put his back to
the left side of the door. He looked at the fibbies, who unholstered
their weapons and took position to the right of the door. Mulder
extended his arm and knocked.

"Hotel security. Open up, please!"

Nothing.

The men exchanged glances. Skinner held up his hand, pointed at the
security man, then the lock, then held up three fingers.

The security man carefully swiped his master-key card through the lock
mechanism and quietly twisted the doorknob to the open position and
looked at Skinner.

Skinner's fingers ticked down: two, one, fist. The security man hit
the door. Mulder and Skinner barreled into the room guns at the ready.
Mulder advanced into the sleeping area, while Skinner checked out the
bathroom.

"All clear!" Skinner said.

"All clear!" Mulder yelled. "Crap! His clothes are here!" 

Skinner stomped to Mulder's side and looked at the pile of clothing.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Stanley Wong. "He dumped the
watch. Get me the secondary signal!...Shit!

"He's already crossing Mission." Skinner turned to the hotel dick and
tossed his head towards the exit. "We're going. Don't let anyone else
in here until the Crime Scene team arrives."

"And block off access to the rooftop, too," Mulder added. "Nobody goes
up there until crime scene goes over it."

The security man nodded and shut the door firmly behind them. That was
all the fibbies needed to see. They continued down the hall, Skinner
dialling as they walked. "Graham? Skinner. He's ditched the watch, the
secondary signal shows he's on the move, heading south across Mission.
Send a couple of forensics teams over. We need to process the evidence
ASAP. Good." Skinner punched 'end' then dialled the number for the
hotel manager. "The police will be here-- oh, OK." He hit the mute
button.

"The police have arrived," he asided to Mulder. 

"You can release the all elevators, now except the service elevator to
the roof. Understood? Tell the police to ask if anyone saw the guest
from 907, and pull 907's registration information, find out who
checked him in, and if any of your staff saw him, get them to a
policeman right away, understood?...They can go...Yes, and I'll want
your surveillance tapes for the last two days as well.... Excellent."

The two fibbies took the elevator to the lobby. 

Inspector Lloyd was surveying the area when he spotted them and
trotted over, waving his men in other directions.  "What the hell
happened?" Lloyd asked. "For my report."

Mulder sighed. "Tucci and I went up to the roof to go jogging. With
the morning overcast visibility was negligible. I was warming up, but
he was impatient. He jogged off into the fog, collided with a chaise
lounge, and that was the last I heard from him. I jogged over, found
the lounge chair, but he wasn't answering my hails. I started nosing
around. On my second circuit of the roof area I found a chloroformed
cloth by the service elevators. I ran downstairs to alert A.D.
Skinner. The thing is, you need a key to use the service elevators.
That means, not only did our perp spot Krycek at the funeral, he
followed him back to this hotel, and somehow got ahold of a key or
duped one in preparation for the snatch.