"Agent Krycek? Krycek?" interrupted the voice of his latest cross to bear.
Flipping over, Alex rested on his back, rivulets of water running over his
sleek Speedo clad body.
Agent Spender was gawky and nervous, his curly hair springing out of the gel
he used to hold it down. He was all elbows and knees like a puppy dog at that
awkward stage. He wore a conservative suit and a striped tie, but the suit
hung on him loosely as if he had blindly grabbed it off a rack. His voice
sounded odd and strained as he said, "Agent Krycek?"
Alex replied, "Spender, what's up?"
Alex pulled himself up from the pool and grabbed a towel. He thought Spender
was watching him too closely. Alex sent him a mischievous challenging look
and the young agent blushed and turned away for a moment.
Adjusted his red Speedo swimsuit, which had ridden up tightly against his
groin, Alex took his time drying off, enjoying the rough rub of the towel
over his skin. He put his leg up on a bench, stretching to cool from the hard
laps he had swam.
"Krycek? There's a situation going down. They want you out there right away,"
Spender said. He sounded as if he had been raised on the East Coast, but his
accent wasn't pronounced. His only comment about the past was that he was a
"Navy Brat". Just like Scully, Alex thought, and just like Scully, Jeff
Spender was probably sent to report to someone who was not AD Skinner. Now,
Scully was an ally, his best friend, and sometime lover. Jeff, however, Jeff
might not be as honest as Scully.
In any event, Alex would be glad to get out of the office even with Spender.
He asked, "What kind of situation?"
Spender replied, "Hostage negotiation."
Frowning, Alex wondered why they had asked for him; that wasn't his field of
expertise. He was the head of the X Files or had been until recently. His
specialty was the kind of bizarre cases that no one else could solve...the
paranormal and case involving alleged alien abductions.
Wondering if this was some kind of trap, Alex asked, "And they want me?"
Spender replied. "Yeah."
The younger agent shifted from foot to foot as if Alex was keeping him from a
badly needed trip to the john. Alex noticed the man was always nervous around
him although he had claimed that he admired Alex's theories and said that he
was a believer. Alex had done some checking and found out that Spender's
mother was well known to MUFON. She claimed to be a multiple abductee so
perhaps Spender wasn't lying. Maybe he needed to prove that his mother was
not as crazy as people said that she was.
That still didn't mean the man was not a spy. Alex shrugged internally. He
could play the game with the big boys. A known spy was a handy thing. Throw
him a few misleading crumbs and Alex would remain free for what really
mattered, finding his sister and exposing the men who had taken her.
His brain working its usual multilevel game, Alex asked, "What for?"
Spender cleared his throat and waved a manila file. He replied, "The guy
escaped a mental institution. He's got four people at gun point in an office
building, claims he's being controlled by aliens."
Two Years previously: September 7, 1992
Fox Mulder dozed in front of his TV. An old movie was playing. Clanging
swordplay occasionally woke him from his nodding slumber. His head throbbed
from the bullet wound that had put him on permanent disability from the FBI.
Blinking, he staggered up and went to get an aspirin.
Looking in the mirror, he saw a handsome, unshaven face, hazel eyes, untidy
hair, and a strong, arched somewhat large nose. He looked as haunted as he
felt.
Memories tormented him, vague frightening images that persisted no matter how
he tried to dismiss him. His last case six months ago had started out like
most of his others. A chain of disappearances led to a suspect who babbled
about aliens and claimed that the missing women were taken to the stars.
Somehow everything had gone wrong and Mulder had found himself being driven
at gunpoint to a ski lodge, one he had recently visited under much better
circumstances. It became hazy from there until he woke in a hospital and was
told that he had been shot in the head. No one could explain where he was for
three weeks between the day he was kidnapped and the day a hunter found him
barely breathing in the woods that surrounded the ski lodge.
As the pain subsided, he returned to the sofa bed in which he slept. A few
moments later, he found himself sitting straight up in bed, his skin
prickling with terror. Looking around the room, he sensed something in the
air, but saw nothing amiss. His border collie, Samantha, wagged her tail and
looked at him alertly. He patted her head and settled back down to sleep
without turning off the TV. Shortly after, Mulder felt rather than saw the
bright lights. He was carried up screaming in terror and immobile,
remembering everything that happened to him on Sky Land Mountain.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
August 3, 1994
Assholes, frigging, stupid assholes, Mulder thought as a guard walked
him in restraints to Dr. Hakkie's office. He hated the way the place smelled,
the color of the walls, the stiff feel of the denim jeans and shirt they made
him wear. Most of all Mulder hated Hakkie. At first, Mulder had been amused,
the man looked like Abe Lincoln, but when he had once told him so, the man
had nodded his sharp-featured head and noted the comment.
Remembering an experiment they had discussed in class when he was at Oxford,
Mulder recalled the case of the student who was sent in to observe a mental
institution. When the truth was revealed, some of the staff argued that the
student was insane. His case file was full of observations that the man had
exhibited note-taking behavior and that he seemed to be always watching the
staff. They had diagnosed him as a paranoid case with delusions.
Remembering that he had found this case amusing at the time, it was less
funny now. He wore the same diagnosis, paranoid with delusions of grandeur.
It made sense he supposed if you didn't know the truth...that the aliens
weren't out there. No, they were here and they were evil.
Hakkie had once asked him why he felt so superior to everyone in the
hospital. Mulder had refused to answer as he had still hoped to be released
at that point in time. However the truth was that Hakkie was the one that he
scorned. Mulder had a doctorate in psychology from Oxford with a minor in
criminology although he had chosen to work for the FBI as a profiler instead
of practicing as a therapist. Hakkie was a psychiatrist, a giver of
medications, who had attended some third rate college and would never have
made it in private practice. His brain was a badly written textbook and he
was a humorless, petty bureaucrat who relished his power over the inmates.
Crossing his thin legs and adjusting the crease of his cheap suit, Hakkie
said, "Fox, I understand that you have not been taking your medication again.
You know that you need the drugs. We give you the medication to help you so
you don't hurt yourself or anyone again."
Mulder said, "Call me Mulder, I don't like to be called Fox." Hakkie wrote
another note about that.
Trying to explain, Mulder said, "I'm not crazy, Dr. Hakkie. You just don't
understand. They are coming for me and I can't sleep. They come for you in
your sleep."
Mulder rocked in his chair. He was acting, he hoped, just trying to play
along until he had a chance to escape and get some place safe.
That patronizing voice should be recorded, placed in a tape player and rammed
up Hakkie's sharp boned rear. He said, "Mulder, you need that medication or
you'll get worse. I'm going to give you a shot to help you sleep."
"We'll look after you. Keep you safe," Hakkie said with a shallow smile.
"You don't know how good that makes me feel," Mulder said, letting his
contempt show now. They would never let him out. Never...
Panic rose like bile in Mulder's throat. They were close again. He could feel
them in the prickling of hair on his arms, in the itch of his teeth, in the
cold fear, black like...like oil that threatened to drown him. He could feel
them close again and he knew that he could not endure another abduction. He
would rather die than allow the aliens to take him.
There had been blinding lights, strange noises, someone screaming in a
high-pitched continuous tone, and huge eyed, gray faces peering down at him.
He could not forget the thousand violations of his body...instruments hooking
into his nose and the sharp pain as tiny drills invaded his teeth. He
remembered a whirring sound as a saw lowered toward him and the moment when
his skin split. Later there was deeper pain as the bone was cut. He could not
resist. He could not even move. It was as if he was a body to autopsy, but he
was alive and he had felt every moment of it.
As the doctor turned to prepare medication, Mulder saw his chance. He had
been a trained agent; he knew how to fight. Hakkie went down as he struck him
with his joined fists.
A moment later, Mulder was out of the office. Over and over, he had rehearsed
this moment. The guard on duty was long past his prime, slow, old, and lazy.
Ruthlessly, Mulder struck the man on the back of his neck and then stabbed
him with the pen he had grabbed from Doctor Hakkie's desk. When Mulder
whirled away from the groaning guard, he had the man's gun in his hand. He
had to defend himself. He had to get away.
"Stop, stop," Hakkie yelled, approaching him with wide spread arms and open
palmed hands.
"Stay back. I'm armed, you idiot!" Mulder said. He held the gun with both
hands, his eyes on the approach of other guards.
"You know you don't want to do this. You were a FBI agent, an officer of the
law. You don't want to hurt anyone," Hakkie pleaded.
It wasn't his choice then. He let the man keep coming until he was close
enough and then Mulder darted out a hand, capturing Hakkie. A moment later,
the gun was pressed to the man's head.
"Don't make me kill him," Mulder said.
He could guess that he looked as mad as they thought that he was as he slowly
backed away, keeping the shaking psychiatrist in front of him. Let them think
he was crazy, because at this moment he knew that he would kill or do
whatever it took to prevent himself from being taken again.
There were keys in Hakkie's jacket pocket. A moment of pressure and the
murmured statement, "Tell me where your car is or I'll snap your fucking
neck," got him the location of the man's car.
Initially, Mulder planned to dump Hakkie when he switched cars. There was a
park and ride not far from the hospital. He chose a tan Saturn that looked
like the last bureau car that he had driven and hot-wired the ignition. He
started to pull out and drive away from Hakkie when a cold thought intruded.
He could trade him. Let the aliens take Hakkie, let him find out what it was
like to be robbed of your life, to suffer pain that devastated you and, when
you thought that you were home and safe, to be judged insane and locked away
when you tried to warn others. So, with Hakkie tied up and residing in the
trunk, Mulder had headed for the city.
Once he had taken the turnoff to the exit, he had lost track of his plan. The
pressure eased that had been pulling him some place. He couldn't remember
where to go. The dull aching misery in his teeth, in the back of his neck, in
his skull, in his nose, and in his stomach still told him that THEY were
coming and that they would get him if he just waited. However, he had not
intention of waiting and he would not be taken. He would do anything
necessary to prevent that.
The place was high, he remembered. His head was throbbing and his memory was
clouded. He fingered the tiny scar where one of the implants itched and
burned. Where had they taken him?
Up, he remembered, up and white. It was bisected with lines that stretched
black into the horizon. If he could only close his eyes for a moment and
sleep, his head would clear, but there wasn't time. More images came back, it
had been cold and after a moment, he had realized that he had been here
before.
Before the aliens had brought him to the place, Mulder had been there on
vacation. He remembered going to a travel agency and booking a weekend at
cabin with a lover. They had glided effortlessly across white clad slopes,
laughing into the brisk air. Later there had been kisses, a soft male voice
moaning in his ear as they had made love in the small, warm cabin. It had
been one of the last sane, safe memories of his life.
If he couldn't remember in this car, he knew where he could go to jog his
recollection. The travel agency was a small one, but he liked the service. It
was friendly and personal...he liked personal service. He looked at Hakkie
and asked, "You ever go skiing, Hakkie?"
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
FBI Headquarters, Washington, August 4th
Spender, the obsequious little weasel, had checked out an agency car and
stood ready with the key, his bureau issued face as bland as ever. Alex let
him drive; he preferred to think, laying out strategy and trying to decide
what game was really afoot.
The kid was a good driver, Alex thought. He managed to obey most of the
traffic laws without yielding an inch to anyone. At this clip, they reached
the square outside the Travel Time travel agency ahead of schedule.
The glass fronted travel office was where the escaped mental patient, Fox
Mulder, was holding four people hostage. Alex took a moment to calmly assess
the situation, noting the SWAT team shooters had rifles aimed at the windows
of the building. They looked eager and nervous, making him glad that he was
not one of the hostages, who were, he thought, nearly at as much risk from
these panting hounds of the law as from the disturbed man who held them
prisoner.
Staring at the tightly shaded windows of the travel agency, Alex wondered
about the man inside. He claimed to be an abductee and so he was mad. That's
what they said. When Alex's sister, Kolya, had disappeared, at first, Alex
told his parents and everyone else what he really saw. No one believed him,
not even his mother. They had started to say he had gone mad just as they
said Mulder had.
That night would never let him go. He had been eleven and his sister had been
thirteen. Their parents had gone out and Kolya was supposed to be watching
Alex. Instead, she was flirting on the phone with her boyfriend.
Bored, he had fallen asleep in front of the TV until the blare of static woke
him. The room was flooded with light, strange light that seemed to bend and
curve around the room. His sister was floating in the air, being drawn
upwards, her hair streaming down and her nightgown billowing like sails.
Kolya screamed Alex's name, but he was so frozen in terror that he couldn't
even tell her that he loved her. If Alex hadn't learned to lie and agree that
it must have been flashlights that had blinded him so he couldn't see who
took her then he might have been locked up the way they had locked Mulder
away.
"You ready to go in?" Spender asked, his voice indicated that Alex had been
dwelling in the past long enough for his mental absence to be noticed.
"Yeah, let's get it on," Alex said.
An uniformed officer directed Alex and his shadow, Spender, to a building
across from the travel agency. The command center was filled with noise and
motion with agents buzzing everywhere. The place hummed with mobile phones,
laptops, and fax machines.
Under his breath, Alex hummed the theme to Alice's Restaurant. He always
liked that part where they brought in all the crime fighting equipment. It
had been Mama's favorite movie. She used to watch it over and over with her
children, swearing them to secrecy against papa who thought it was American
and decadent. Anyway, it looked like they loved having all the gadgets out,
all of this machinery to contain one tormented soul. Alex shook his head. He
preferred to face his subject, man on man, his brain against their mind.
A tall, African-American woman, who looked forty going on fifty, claimed Alex
immediately. "Agent Krycek?" she said. She didn't sound impressed.
"Yeah." Alex replied. The woman was stern and she looked as tough as Walter
Skinner. Alex took an instant dislike to her.
The woman said, "I'm Lucy Kazdin, negotiations commander. Thanks for coming.
Let me show you what we've got here. His name's Fox Mulder. He's armed with a
nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson handgun. He has one nine-round magazine. It is
our belief he's prepared to use the gun and not afraid to die."
Just past Kazdin, there was an easel with the words 'honesty, containment,
and conciliation' written in large red letters. Oh, shit, right out of the
hostage negotiation seminar he had attended...although he thought most of the
course material was bullshit, he had done very well at the training. After
all, that was how he'd kept his X-Files running as long as he
had...conciliate the upper echelon, contain the gossip, and, well, honesty
might have its place, but Alex had never found it particularly useful in most
circumstances.
That his strategy had failed was the only way that Alex knew he had stumbled
upon something important in one of his recent cases. Too bad he wasn't sure
which mystery pointed to the goal, the magic string that would unravel the
whole tangle. He could have pulled it off on his own. He had sources and
hidden allies. The FBI was just a convenient way to sniff out the truth; the
day it stopped being useful to him was the day he quit.
Alex forced his attention back to here and now. He asked, "What does he
want?"
"Safe passage for himself and his original hostage, a shrink named Hakkie."
Kazdin replied.
Alex winced at her description of the psychiatrist. He asked, "Passage to
where?"
Kazdin smirked, "He's bent on taking the Doctor with him to an alien
abduction site, only he can't quite remember where the site is so he stopped
at a travel agency.
Alex asked, "Is he lucid?"
The woman looked at Alex strangely, but answered seriously, "Yes, but he's
off his medication so he's manic, ranting about marks on his body, homing
devices, a lot of other nonsense.
Alex's interest caught asked, "Like what?"
Kazdin jerked her head in an unconscious gesture of rejection. She explained,
"This whole alien abduction business, which I guess you know something
about." The tone of her voice spoke volumes. She sounded as if she was
humoring the escapee from the psychiatric hospital not an FBI agent.
Alex replied, "Yeah, yeah, but I've never been in a hostage negotiation
before."
"We'll take you through it," Kazdin instantly answered.
Alex thought this was a royal "We" until another agent stepped up. He was an
older man with a lot of gray in his light brown hair and worry wrinkles
lining his forehead and under his eyes.
Kazdin said, "Agent Rich is our advisory commander. He and I will be coaching
you."
"What Mr. Mulder needs right now is a friend, someone who appears to
understand him and can appeal to his sense of reason," Agent Rich said. He
nodded as if in agreement with his own statement.
Holding back a snappy remark about 'don't we all need a friend', Alex nodded
and put on his good little agent face. He asked, "Do we know anything about
his abduction experience?"
Agent Rich raised his eyebrows and made eye contact with Agent Kazdin. His
expression said clearly, Was this guy for real?
Stepping forward and violating Alex's personal space, Kazdin asked, "You
really believe in this stuff, Agent Krycek?"
Knowing the woman was playing psychological games, Alex edged forward even
closer until they were toe to toe. She was a big woman, who used her size and
bearing to intimidate. Alex however was tall if not as wide. He stared her in
the eye until she moved back.
His voice at its growling best, Alex asked, "Is that a problem?"
Kazdin looked so very unhappy with Alex. This was not a new experience for
him. You had to develop a thick skin if you talked about UFOs and worked for
the FBI.
"We're here to save lives. You'll begin negotiations immediately. Every three
hours we'll reevaluate your progress, advice you, and update you if we decide
to use force," Kazdin said.
She was clenching her jaw...sure-fire case for TMJ, Alex thought, betting her
dentist had her in one of those night restraints for temporomandibular
disease. Fitting if it was true, many abductees were told that TMJ caused
their tooth drilling nightmares.
"If this man is an abductee I need to know more about him, um, his personal
history. Each abduction case is different," Alex told her.
Kazdin replied, "That material has not been made available to us." She
plainly thought that she was humoring an agent not much more sane than the
man who was holding four people at gunpoint.
Alex snapped back, "And nobody's thought to call the hospital for records?"
"Look, Agent Krycek. The guy's a psycho. Your object is to keep him on the
phone. The longer you do, the more chance he's not going to kill anybody. We
stop to do a Freudian analysis, next thing you know we've got four dead
hostages. So whatever crap you have to make up about space men or UFO s, just
keep him on the phone," Kazdin replied. She turned away, dismissing Alex.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
Across the street in the travel agency, Mulder paced and stroked the gun with
sweating fingers. He had never been good in siege-like situations even when
he was a profiler, brought in to deal with psychotic killers.
The two women and the one male employee of the travel agency were not tied,
as Mulder hated restraints. They sat like three monkeys in a row on the
floor, jerking in fright every time Mulder so much as scratched his nose.
Hakkie was tied to a chair; Mulder had made an exception of him, pay back for
all the times the man had ordered him into restraints. Mulder thought the guy
had a fetish buried beneath his prissy exterior. He seemed to have loved
visiting Mulder when four point restraints pinned him helplessly to his bed.
His face had always raked up and down Mulder's helpless body as he shivered
with flashbacks of being aboard the ship, unable to move just as he was is in
this hospital. After one of these episodes, Hakkie had always increased
Mulder's medications making his mind and body felt heavy as lead. Until the
dosage was slowly ebbed down, Mulder would barely be able to stay awake,
drifting around the ward in a stupor.
The psychologist was a fool who would have never made it through the FBI
academy much less been chosen for Oxford. Hakkie was trying to calm him down,
but Mulder knew every technique that the man was trying. Hell, he had written
some of them.
"You don't want to harm these people," Hakkie argued, "Let them go.
"I won't hurt them, but you are coming with me. You will see what it is like
to be vivisected by the aliens," he told the psychiatrist. "Then you can try
your medications and your therapy on yourself and see if it helps."
The new FBI agent called again. Mulder liked his voice, wanted to know what
he looked like. He hadn't respected either of the two other agents. The
woman, Lucy Kazdin, he had known when he was an agent and he hadn't liked her
then. As for Agent Rich, he had that 'how many months am I from retirement
tone' in his voice.
This new agent, Krycek, sounded intelligent and he wasn't reading from the
book. Krycek seemed to be listening to what Mulder had to say and it didn't
hurt that he had a great voice, husky, low and soothing. How long had it been
since the last time Mulder had heard a voice like that, where it belonged, in
bed with him? He peered out the window, wondering if he could spot the owner
of the voice.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
At the situation command post, Alex felt as if he was trying to get it up for
a porn movie with cameras rolling in a room with a creepy film crew. As he
talked to Mulder, other agents pressed close. Agent Spender had been glued to
Alex's ass all morning. Alex admitted that he could think of a few guys that
he wouldn't mind having glued to his ass, but Spender didn't do it for him.
Glancing through at the all points bulletin that had been issued, Alex
thought it was a waste for such a good looking man to be in these
circumstances. Alex even liked the man's voice, which ranged from soft and
monotone to a harsher demanding sound. The pattern of the conversation was
revealing.
When Mulder took on a snotty tone and cited hostage situation psychology
right back at him, Alex snarled and rounded on Kazdin to ask her about the
man's history.
Reluctantly, Kazdin finally said, "All right, he is a former FBI agent. He
was a profiler who retired from duty after being shot. Most of the last two
years he's spent in the mental hospital."
Agent Rich was so sure that the proven way would work, but Mulder wasn't
falling for any of it although he seemed to enjoy sparring with Alex in their
ongoing phone battles.
Now that he thought about it, Alex realized that he had studied cases that
Fox Mulder had solved. The man was brilliant and wouldn't fall for any trite
psychological methods. Alex thought that the only way he would gain Mulder's
trust was to respect what the man had been.
Knowing what Mulder had been through, if he really was an abductee, Alex felt
a natural sympathy. From the things that people Alex had interviewed said, he
didn't blame the man for trying anything rather than go back. When Alex tried
to tell the other agents, the only one that seemed interested was Spender,
improving Alex's opinion of the young man.
Looking around for Spender, Alex heard the operations chief sending him out
for coffee. Shit, Spender probably loved that, as ambitious as he was, but it
just proved what a bitch Lucy Kazdin could be. Shot the poor kid down like an
expert...
However, as long as Spender was out of hearing range, it was a great time to
call Scully. His former partner, and sometime lover, was supportive and
promised that she would look up the information that Alex needed, the truth
about Fox Mulder.
While he was talking to Scully, a bright white flash lit the room. In the
confusion, Alex heard shots, a volley of them. When the luminescence faded,
all of the electricity was out. Alex thought it was a stupid ass plan to
confuse Mulder, but the SWAT team said they didn't do it. Kazdin claimed that
a power station had blown.
When Alex got back on the line with Mulder, The man said, "I guess we're
going to need a doctor."
Moments later, Alex was adjusting a paramedic uniform. He was not sure why he
was convinced that, if he could just talk to Mulder in person, he could get
the hostages freed. At the same time, Alex found himself trying not to admit
that he was feeling a strange fascination with the deranged agent.
Agent Rich droned in his ear, "Now, you'll have almost full ambient hearing
loss in this ear. Your sense of balance might be affected slightly,
particularly if you have to move quickly or get into a physical situation. If
you get trapped or held in the building for some reason, we'll be able to
warn you if there's a tactical assault. Now remember, he might have four or
five rounds left."
The man reached out and adjusted Alex's bulletproof vest, making him flinch
away from the too intimate gesture. "Now, there's a wireless microphone
hidden in the top of this flak jacket. Even with you and Mulder speaking in a
normal tone of voice, we should be able to hear anything you say up to a
hundred yards."
Nodding, Alex buttoned the EMT shirt over the vest. Great, he could only hope
that hand-to-hand combat was not going to be on the agenda. He was
uncomfortable and felt as if he couldn't move.
"Make every attempt to keep these devices concealed. You put a normal
telephone handset to that ear, it'll cause feedback and reveal that you're
wired," Rich lectured.
'Sure, right', Alex thought, 'God, man, I'm a special agent not a rookie no
matter how young I look to you.'
Kazdin bore down in their direction, like a runaway plane plowing down the
runway. She was a scary woman, who made Krycek glad that Skinner was his
boss. Skinner played tough, but there were ways to get around him. In fact,
Alex was sure that the stern AD had a soft spot for him and Scully.
"You really want to do this?" Kazdin asked.
"Yeah," Alex replied, his mind had already raced ahead to Mulder. He felt
close now, close to a truth and sure that at least some of his answers were
in that travel agency.
Eager to begin, Alex started walking, followed by Agent Rich and Kazdin. He
could see Spender keeping his distance and looking as if he wanted to argue
about the decision. Curious man, Jeff Spender...
"Your job will be to deliver medical help to the hostage. Anything else is
just a bonus. You're to get in and get out. You are not to risk your own
life. Whatever you believe..." Kazdin said in her clipped voice. She scowled
at him, reminding him of his first grade teacher, one of the few that had
taken a dislike to him.
"Don't jump into his delusion. I can't negotiate with him if he thinks I
believe him," Alex related.
Always give'em what they want to hear...a lot of wheels ran smoother with
ample applications of bullshit at the right times.
Like a somewhat surprised teacher when her slowest pupil came up with the
correct answer, Kazdin agreed, "Right."
Pointing at the weary looking black man standing next to her, she said, "This
is Agent Janus, he's a trained medic. He'll work on the hostage. You're to
keep Fox Mulder talking. Like I said, if he's talking, he's not going to
shoot anybody including you."
The tactical commander tugged on Alex's sleeve and pulled him aside, he said,
"Now, I've got three snipers out there. Anything you can do to get him to the
front door, all we need is one shot to the medulla oblongata."
Rich tapped the back of Alex's skull where the medulla oblongata was located.
Give me a break, Alex thought. Did you even look at my jacket? I'm a
psychologist...I know the parts of the brain better than you ever will."
Giving Janus a reassuring smile, Alex nodded. It wasn't going to happen. He
wouldn't give the sniper a clear target. At least not until he had a chance
to talk to Fox Mulder, find out if the man had really been abducted. Kolya,
Alex thought; every time he interviewed a new victim, he asked if they had
seen a woman with green eyes and dark hair, just like his. Perhaps, Fox
Mulder would be the one.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
Walking unarmed into the direct line of fire of a dangerous mad man was not
something Alex did easily. Janus, carrying his orange case, looked just as
nervous. They passed the fountain in the small courtyard between the two
buildings. Alex noticed overturned coffee cups and abandoned fast food bags.
Give Mulder some credit; it had been noon when the man at the travel agency
hit the alarm. He could have picked off people like he was at a clay pigeon
shoot. Instead, he had not fired until what ever caused the blackout alarmed
him.
Taking a deep breath, Alex put on his game face. He knocked on the door and
was greeted by a young, very frightened black woman.
Mulder's voice, already a familiar one, said, "Just unlock the door and move
back."
The woman obeyed, scurrying back to sit with two other people in terrified
silence on the floor. Alex's trained eyes cased the room. It was bright,
modern, white walls decorated with travel posters. There was a counter and an
open door, which seemed to lead to a small office. Another door off the left
was closed.
According to the plan that Alex had seen, this led to a small storeroom and
beyond that to a unisex restroom. Kazdin had been very clear about not
letting Mulder lure him to that room. It had no windows and there was no way
that the snipers could get a shot at Mulder in there.
There he was. Alex almost caught his breath. He'd read some place that you
knew when you met the one you loved or the one who would kill you. Frankly,
Mulder looked as if either was a possibility. Even partially hidden by the
shadows, he shone and drew Alex's eyes.
The man was tall, thin, almost lanky, but with powerful shoulders and a full
round ass. His nose was too big. His mouth was incredible, a lower lip that
seemed almost over ripe, like a succulent piece of fruit that seemed near to
bursting its tender skin with the sweet, sweet juices within. Mulder's hazel
eyes burned into Alex, brimming with life, intensity, and intelligence. Sharp
angular cheekbones defined the bird of prey face, but the forehead was broad
and mild underneath a tousled head of radiant hair.
That described Mulder as well as saying a lightening bolt is a sudden visual
manifestation of an electrical discharge.
A nod seemed to tell Alex that Mulder understood the tension, which now
scintillated the air in the room. However, Mulder snarled, "Hands in the
air!"
Lifting his hands, Alex kept his eyes on Mulder, couldn't take his eyes off
him in fact.
"Put the kit on the floor slowly," Mulder said, his voice shaking from its
controlled pitch just ever so slightly.
Janus obeyed. Alex spared him a moment, almost surprised to find the man was
not as caught by Mulder's beauty as he was.
"We're unarmed," Alex said.
Mulder stepped into the light. Alex swallowed and crazily his heart was
racing not with fear, but with absolute lust.
"We just want to help the injured," Alex said, with a nod to Janus.
An older woman said, "Over here." She was tending the injured man, a man in
his early fifties or late forties. The man's white shirt was spotted with
blood. His eyes were glassy from shock and he was very pale.
"Face the door! Both of you! That's right," Mulder said.
After Alex and Janus obeyed, Mulder's hand searched rapidly over Janus and
lingered over Alex. "Flak jackets? Think that will help if I shoot you here?"
A hand clouted the side of Alex's ear. He winced as a resonance was
engendered from the challenged earphone.
"Not armed, huh? You're FBI, aren't you? Got a gun in the kit?" Mulder asked.
"No," Alex replied, watching as Mulder checked the medical case.
"Are you wearing a wire?" Mulder asked.
"No," Alex lied, "We're just here to help."
"Okay..." Mulder replied as he finished his search. He was panther-like,
agile, not a weight lifter, Alex would bet, he moved like a thoroughbred, all
spirit, sinew, and heart.
"Nobody's going to try anything, Mulder," Alex reassured. He couldn't help
drawing the name out. This was insane. What was he thinking? Hell, he wasn't
thinking. All he knew was he wanted Mulder, didn't care about anything other
than getting alone with this man. He found that saving Mulder had stepped up
to as high a level in his priorities as getting the hostages out.
"That's right, good. You want to work with him," Kazdin's voice whispered in
his ear.
Shaking his head a little, the resonance was awful, Alex glided to one side,
drawing the gun to him.
"We just want to make sure no one else gets hurt," Alex said.
Mulder was settling down, positioning himself so he could cover both Alex and
Janus as the paramedic-trained agent knelt to check on the wounded man.
Alex respected Mulder's professional skills. This would have been a partner
that he could have respected as much as he did Scully and, instinctively,
Alex knew Mulder was a worthy opponent.
"What's your name?" Mulder demanded of Alex.
"Krycek, Alex Krycek," Alex answered.
"Well, Mr. Krycek, Alex, just do your business and get out," Mulder said, his
voice calm now.
Walking around the man tied to an office chair, Mulder kept his gun trained
on Alex as he moved closer to Janus. "How's he doing?" Mulder asked.
The older woman said, "He's bad." She brushed back a stray hair from her
brassy blonde upswept do.
The younger woman quivered at her side, scared to death. Alex knew that he
had to get these people out. He didn't need to have anyone get hysterical and
push Mulder over the edge.
Janus, a through professional said, "Hi, my name is Janus. I'm a paramedic.
Hold on, we're going to take care of you, okay?"
The injured man nodded, his eyes uneasily shifting between the man treating
him and the man who had shot him.
"I didn't want to hurt anyone. I only fired one shot when the lights went
out. I didn't even think I hit anyone. Hell, maybe it was the SWAT team. They
pumped enough rounds in here that we're lucky no one else was hit."
Keeping his voice low and intimate, Alex said, "They want to work with you,
Mulder, but you've got to work with them. Why not let the others go?"
Apparently, Mulder had already thought of that. He said, "Hakkie's going with
me."
Dropping his voice ever more hypnotically lower, Alex said, "Mulder, let the
women go then."
Mulder's hand tightened on the gun. He was on edge, nearly quivering with
nervous energy. His sharp eyes roved the room as if looking for a solution, a
way out.
Alex said, "Were they here, Mulder? The light... was that them?"
"Don't bullshit me," Mulder said. A faint sardonic smile lifted the corner of
the tender lines of the mouth.
"Well, we lost time. I checked my watch. Isn't that what happens? Time stops.
Doesn't it?" Alex said. He sounded even to himself, so intimate, his voice
holding that caressing growl that turned even inhibited Ms. Dana Scully into
a tigress in his bed.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
What was happening to him? Mulder couldn't take his eyes off the young agent.
He wanted to trust him. Krycek listened to him. His eyes did not seem able to
lie. God, he had never seen eyes like that before.
Still, Mulder's heart beat faster not with love, but with fear. He remembered
that last time. He had been in bed in his cabin, his safe place far from the
maddening pace of the city. He'd hoped it was a place so far away and remote
that THEY would never find him.
Yet Mulder had woken, screaming. The light lifted him like a giant hand to
that place, to the chair where they cut him and pierced him. He couldn't even
find a place to hide in his own head. He remembered later, looking up at
alien faces pressed to observation windows, watching him with their mockery
of human expressions...
"Mulder?" the voice said, pulling him back to the present.
"Leave me alone. You don't know. You're making things up," Mulder accused the
man.
It was a voice made of velvet. Mulder could have sunk down in the smoky
depths of it. Krycek said, "Isn't that what they've been saying to you,
Mulder? That you're making it up?"
"They say it's all inside my head. All they want to do is just give me more
drugs." Mulder said, shooting a hateful gaze at the psychiatrist.
"I hear you, Mulder," Krycek said, sounding so intimate. His green eyes
invited Mulder to look into them.
"You hear me 'cause I got a gun," Mulder replied.
"No. I believe your story," the young agent said. His face offered itself
like a flower to his sun. Mulder wanted to trust Krycek. They were connected
somehow as if in another world, they were partners...more than
partners...lovers. Krycek's voice sounded earnest, wistful, and so intimate
that all Mulder could think about was being alone with him.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
Kazdin's voice hissed in Alex's ear. "No, you're feeding into his psychosis."
Alex stepped forward, a hand outstretched. "I know you're afraid. I know the
pain and the fear you must feel."
"Just listen to me," Kazdin snapped, "Don't try to identify with him."
"I've talked to people, Mulder. People just like you, and nobody wanted to
believe," Alex said.
Alex knew he had Mulder. If he could just concentrate on what he was doing.
It was only half Alex's natural ability as a con man. He also believed
Mulder. Who could look into those vital, compelling eyes and see just a mad
man?
"This man's going to die unless we get him to a hospital," Janus said. His
shoulders slumped wearily as he knelt back on the floor.
Watching Mulder's expression, Alex sensed this was a man of conscience, not
the kind of man who would easily accept standing by and watching someone die.
"Why don't you let him go, Mulder? There's no reason this man has to die.
Come on, Mulder. You've got the power. Let him go," Alex said.
Mulder's eyes met Alex's. They locked gazes. Both of them took deep breaths.
"Okay," Mulder agreed.
"Good. You made the right choice. Now, we're just going to move him carefully
to the door," Alex said.
"No! Baldy can go. But you stay. I'm trading the bald man for you,"
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
The whispering in his ears was getting to Alex. He heard Kazdin say, "Damn
it!"
Meanwhile, Janus walked out with the wounded man. Alex saw other agents
including Agent Spender come over to help him.
"Now, let's see how good a liar you are," Mulder said.
"I'm telling the truth, Mulder," Alex swore easily, whatever the truth was.
It did keep rearranging itself.
"How could you ever know what I've been through? How could anyone know?"
Mulder raged. His voice broke at the end and Alex wanted to comfort him. It
was crazy. It couldn't be Stockholm syndrome. What was it?
"It happened to my sister," Alex said at last.
"Don't you think you can lie to save their lives. I want some honesty! I want
some respect!" Mulder said.
"How does it happen, Mulder? Driving in your car? Alone in bed at night? When
do they come to you? You're paralyzed, aren't you? Unable to move. Sometimes,
you can't even breathe. You feel an electric shock go through your body."
Alex said.
"You're going to push him right over the edge," Kazdin said. "I need a clear
picture of what's going on in there," She snapped at someone else.
Someone's voice distantly echoed agreement as Kazdin said, "You're choosing a
dangerous course, Agent Krycek."
"There are beings, aren't there, Mulder? Are they tall or small?" Alex asked.
"No! No!" Mulder said.
"Diminutive..." Alex mused, as he remembered what the other abductees had
told him.
Mulder closed his eyes and tensed as he started to remember. Alex never
wanted to see what made a brave man like Mulder quiver with that hellish
horror-struck expression twisting his intelligent features.
"They take you, Mulder, against your will," Alex said, his voice undulating
like a snake charmer's flute.
"He's going to kill us," the older woman said.
Alex shot her a look, trying to warn her to keep silent and let him weave his
spell.
"You're powerless. Sometimes, you can't even speak. It's always the same,
nobody can help you. Where do they take you, Mulder? Is there a ship? Do they
take you to a ship, Mulder? How do you get there? Are you conscious of being
transported?" Alex's voice crooned, holding Mulder's entire attention.
"They're, uh... they're talking to me, but they don't speak," Mulder said
bleakly, as he slumped to the floor, sitting with his back leaning against
one of the filing cabinets that stood by one of the modern desks.
"I can hear what they're saying. They can... read my mind."
"That's right. Abductees call it "mind scan." It's a kind of telepathy," Alex
said.
"I'm telling them that I don't want to go... but they never listen," Mulder
said, his soft monotone even quieter with horror.
Alex spared another glance to the women. They clung to each other, but the
younger woman was listening as if she was hearing something that she
understood and believed.
"They know what I'm saying. But they just... go right on about their
business," Mulder said, drawing deep gasping breaths. Pointing at Hakkie, he
said, "Tell him what their business is. Tell him!"
"They take you aboard the ship to perform the tests," Alex said, eyes moving
from Hakkie to Mulder. Mulder nodded slightly, shifting the gun in his hand
as if it was too heavy to hold.
"They... drilled my teeth." Mulder screamed, "They drilled holes in my damn
teeth!"
His eyes roved the room and when they came back to Alex, he changed the
subject abruptly. "How old was your sister when they took her?
"She was thirteen," Alex said.
"I've seen kids sometimes, young girls," Mulder said quietly, "Some of them
all look alike, rows and rows of identical twins."
"What do they do to them?" Alex asked, his voice trembling.
Mulder's eyes softened and he said, "You don't want to know, Alex. I try to
tell them not to be afraid."
Gracefully climbing to his feet, Mulder walked over to Alex and said, "Who
are you really, Alex Krycek? You're different. Different like I was. They're
going to break you, Alex. Shake you and break you and remake you."
"They won't,' Alex said, "Because I know how to bend."
"What in the hell are you doing," hissed Kazdin, "You're feeding into his
paranoid fantasies.
Wetting his lips, Alex turned his face toward Mulder and said, "I want you to
let them go, Mulder. Look at them. They can't take much more. What do you
think is going to happen then? Keep me. I'm a FBI agent. I'm valuable, a
profiler. Why not have someone who will cooperate, keep calm. I'm the one you
want, Mulder," Alex said.
"Yeah," Mulder agreed, "You're the one."
The man leaned close and whispered in Alex's ear, "You hear that, bitch? You
want to be the agent in charge when four innocent people get killed? I'm
telling you to back up. Get those snipers moved back."
"Shiiit," Alex said, sagging back, "You knew all the time."
"I've been down, but that doesn't mean I've been out of it," Mulder said,
"I've kept up on my profession's technology."
Kazdin's voice sounded bleakly in Alex's ear. "Tell him that we'll move the
snipers back."
"She'll move them back," Alex said to Mulder.
"Now listen to me. You can let the others go, Mulder. Let the others go and
take me," Alex pleaded.
"Oh... they hear you talking like that, they're going to have your ass,"
Mulder said, running the gun down Alex's chest. He leaned suddenly nearer and
whispered, "If you want them to be free, then you agree. You come with me to
that back room and we talk. We talk without the wire, Alex."
Scully's voice suddenly replaced Kazdin's. She said, "Alex, you have to
listen to me. It's a trick. He's a pathological liar due to an brain injury
he received on duty."
Listening, Alex shook his head. He wanted the hostages free and for some
reason he was sure that Mulder wouldn't shoot him. He said, "Scully, I'm
going to take this thing out of my ear for a while. Mulder will let the
others go. Just keep them from coming in. Okay? You can do that for me?"
Her voice shaking, Scully asked, "Alex, are you sure?"
"Yeah, I want to talk to Mulder. I want to find out what he knows," Alex
said.
Scully said slowly as if he might not understand her otherwise, "I told you,
Alex, he doesn't know anything. He can't help you find your sister. He was
never abducted. I looked at the records."
"Records can be altered, Scully," Alex said, "You know that. Haven't I at
least proved that to you? Besides, I want to get the others out of here. You
keep things under control out there or I won't be around the next time you
wonder whether something's really a mosquito bite."
Nodding at Mulder, Alex reached up and tried to feel for the insert in his
ear. He could touch it, but not grasp it to get it out.
"Okay," Mulder said, "Now everyone just remain calm and form a single line
like good kids as you go out the door."
"You can untie the good doctor now," Mulder said, "I'm sick of old honest
Abe's looks anyway."
"Be careful," Hakkie whispered, "He is a dangerous man."
Alex said, "But I like dangerous men, doctor. Some say that I am a dangerous
man."
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
His original mission was accomplished, Alex realized as the two women and Dr.
Hakkie filed out, one at a time. Now, however, he wanted to find out what
Mulder knew. Alex locked the door behind the people.
The man was very intelligent and his survival instincts were nearly as good
as Alex's own. He was well away from the door and away from any clear line of
fire. He had backed nearly into the small room, the one without any windows.
"Come, here, Alex. Let me do something about that ache in your ear," Mulder
purred.
There was no other way to describe it except purring. Alex's cock twitched
with the invitation in that voice. What the hell was going on with him? He
wasn't that horny? Scully might not be everything he wanted, but she was
beautiful and loyal...just like Lassie, the sarcastic little voice in his
head whispered.
Alex's steps glided across the room. He knew what he was doing, knew it was
stupid and that he could be going to his death. What the hell...living could
be sweeter on the edge.
The room was dark and cluttered. Boxes of copy paper were stacked against one
wall. A couch covered with a brightly crocheted cover occupied about a third
of it. Mulder had the first aid kit open. He held up a pair of tweezers and
said, "Let's get private, Alex."
Scully's voice sounded in his ear, tinny and small, just like Tinkerbelle.
"Alex, please, stop listening to him. Alex, you can't do this..."
Smiling slightly, Alex tilted his head toward Mulder and said, "Take it out
then. It's been making me dizzy anyway."
Mulder had a nice touch. It thrilled through Alex, just the brush of his
hands against Alex's neck. The man's smile when he tilted Alex's chin up to
show him the insert was like nuclear energy. Alex was irradiated, damned. He
looked the same, but Fox Mulder had changed him.
The gasp of breath could have been anything; at least, Alex hoped that it
would be taken for something other than irrational, irresistible arousal. He
took the earplug and carefully walked over and out of the room to place it
carefully in the business card tray that stood empty on the counter. He
stripped off the blue uniform shirt and laid it on top, adding the flak
jacket and lastly stripping off the wire, wincing as one or two of his sparse
chest hairs were pulled out by the adhesive tape.
A cold breeze contracted his nipples. Alex shivered, his eyes closed.
Whatever connection he and Fox Mulder had must be explored...
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
When Mulder saw the way Alex Krycek was posed, he knew that nothing else
mattered for the moment. The aliens had taken it all and drained him dry.
Every thing he once was, the brilliant profiler, the accomplished agent with
friends, respect, and a career that was expected to ascend in steady
progression, was gone. Worse than that, he realized that he hadn't even dared
to live between the first abduction and the next.
That beautiful man in there with his eyes like green glowing jewels, his hair
a rich chestnut hue, highlighted with darker streaks of ebony, and his
body...well, if a sculptor dreamed of one perfect statue and wrought it. If
that supreme artistry came to life, Alex Krycek would be the result. Mulder
wanted him, not to worship as a statue or to admire with only his eyes. He
needed to touch him, to make love to him, to find out if there was still
anything left of Fox Mulder in this shell that the aliens had left.
"You know what I want," Mulder said as the man approached, "But if you
don't...if you don't want to do it."
"This is the craziest thing that I have ever done, but, yeah, I want it as
badly as you do. Fox Mulder, I don't know if you can help me find my sister.
I don't even know if you're really an abductee. I just know that I want you
and need you. We belong together," Alex declared.
Mulder wanted it a different way. If he could show Alex who he had been
before they took him and gutted him. Yet, there was no way back. Maybe this
was the gift of the gods...first they had made him mad and now they gave him
this one last chance to be loved, to love. He didn't think that he was going
to make it out of this place alive, but death was something he could face. It
was THEM that he could not bear. Death would be a relief for it meant they
would never take him again.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
The man looked ashamed of his body as he stripped off the cheap jeans and tee
shirt that they had dressed him in at the hospital. He was ivory in the dim
light. His body was gaunt, but Alex could see the deep chest and the powerful
arms developed only by swimming, swimming as Alex did, every day, lap after
lap, until the worries and cares of the world finally fled. He must have been
a runner too before this happened to him. His legs were pylons of lean
muscle, beautiful and well defined. His ass was round, each cheek a taunt
curve of surprisingly full flesh.
"You are wonderful," Alex said, laughter rippling from his chest. He kicked
off his shoes and socks. Walking over, he took Mulder's hand and guided it to
the closure of his suit pants. "Undress me," he said, his voice, an
invocation to whatever fate toyed with them in this manner.
With a sob-like sound, Mulder dropped to his knees before Alex. He knelt
there looking up at Alex for long moments, his hands idly kneading the fabric
of his pant. "I want to remember...if they take me again, I hope they won't
steal this from me too."
Alex's hands wove gentle patterns in Fox Mulder's hair. He had found
something, someone that meant as much to him as his lost Kolya and as much as
defeating the aliens, whom he knew had taken her. The hell of it was, why
now? Why Mulder? Why a lover wearing the face of an enemy?
"We'd better hurry," Alex said, "Take our pleasures while we may."
"Yeah," Mulder said, and his fingers unbuttoned Alex's pants. Laughing in a
ripple that quietly shook his body, Mulder caught the zipper tongue in his
teeth and pulled it down. His hands trailed a claim down every inch of Alex's
hips and legs before cupping Alex's foot for a moment as he slid the fabric
clear.
Alex could feel his lungs sucking in air as if the inferno of their lust was
burning the very oxygen from the room. His stomach heaved, almost hurting
with his deep rapid breaths.
"Get up," Alex bade, "Now, let's have it all."
The instant they fell on the couch, they were devouring each other. Alex
thought, "We've known each other before, in a thousand realities, across the
span of history, we've always known, always found each other again."
Had he said it aloud because Mulder answered, "Yes, Alex, we have and we
always will. Beautiful love, remember me..."
Always...
They were twin flames that burned together. Lips touched. Tongues dueled and
both won. Hands stroked, slid over sweating flesh, modeling the clay of their
bodies one to another. Mouths captured the essence of each other, bitter
mortal flavor exploding and claiming. Voices cried together. Like the mating
of eagles...they flew in each other's arms. When they parted, it was like
plummeting to earth from heaven.
As they lay resting, as close as mortal flesh could press, Mulder suddenly
raised his head. He said, "I hear something. Like drilling. What are they
doing?"
Pushing his lover away, Alex leapt up. It was by the book. Damn Kazdin was
always going by the book!
"They are going to use gas, Mulder," Alex shot out rapidly as he grabbed his
clothing and dressed himself.
"You just stay in here. Cover your face so it won't make you too sick. I'll
tell them you didn't hurt me. I can fix this, Mulder, I know that I can,"
Alex said.
Mulder was dressing too, but not as quickly as Alex. He was slower because
his hazel eyes were absorbing every detail of his lover. "It's okay," Mulder
said, "I'm not afraid now. They can't ever take this from me even if they cut
it from my brain. I know you, I love you to the last cell of me."
Still barefoot, his chest bare, Alex reminded, "Stay here. You let me handle
this, Mulder."
"Yeah," Mulder answered as he pulled his jeans on. "Make sure they hear you
coming. See if that wire still works."
"Good idea," Alex said. Going back into the main room, he picked up the wire
from the counter and said, "Everything is under control...can you hear me?"
There was no answer until the world shattered...fragments in his mind's eye:
A grenade shattering the window...sonic screaming first and then a second one
and gas filling the room. Alex yelled, "No, fuck it, no...Scully tell them
I'm all right!"
It sounded as if the office was shattering around him. The front door crashed
in and voices shouted, "FBI! On the floor!"
Coughing, wiping at his streaming eyes, Alex hurriedly obeyed. Then his heart
went still...
"Alex, Alex? Are you all right?" Mulder's voice called.
Tears falling, Alex screamed, "Mulder, get down! Get down. Get down. Oh
please, God, get down!"
"Alex, is it them? Alex, where are you? Don't let them take you...I'll go!
Take me! Take me!"
And the shot was so near as Alex scrambled up too late and saw Mulder fall...
He covered him with his body, protecting him a heartbeat too late. He saw
Scully's red hair spilling over the gas mask, nearly as scarlet in the
spotlights as Mulder's blood seeping through his fingers.
He didn't remember being pried from his beloved's body. He didn't remember
fighting his way back to hear Scully say, "He's alive."
Kazdin's face loomed in front of him. She grabbed his arms and asked, "What
did that man do to you, Agent Krycek? Were you sexually molested? That
couch...there's evidence."
Breaking her grip, Alex smiled at her, a smile those who knew him would have
seen as a sign of danger. Voice rough with coughing, he said, "No, I wasn't
sexually molested. We fucked, Commander Kazdin. But you won't hear me say
that again...unless you try to prosecute that man for rape. I'm going to be a
hero, the man who traded himself for four hostages. Don't screw it up,
Kazdin, you could be looking pretty good."
Staring her down, Alex waited until he was sure that it had sunk in. Kazdin
said, "I've heard that you can be a cold son of a bitch..."
"You heard right. Don't push me. Leave me alone for now and I'll play nice
for the press later," Alex said. His eyes were burning and his words were
interrupted by a series of hacking gasps.
Scully came over and claimed him, letting him lean on her, comforting him.
She said, "Alex, come on. I'll take you to the hospital."
"Same one as Mulder?" Alex choked out.
"Yes," Scully said.
"Is he going to make it?" Alex demanded.
"God willing," Scully answered.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
By pure force of will, Alex evicted everyone from the critical care unit
where Mulder lay. He knelt by the bed, laying his head by Mulder's hand. He
wasn't praying.
Prayer had abandoned him long ago when Kolya had not been returned, when his
father spiraled deeper and deeper into the bottle...when one day, the
ambulance took his mama away to the hospital and she never came home again.
Alex had been fourteen when he decided that God, if he existed, wouldn't help
him. From that day on, he had never faltered, never cried until today. He had
ripped ruthlessly through school, competed fiercely in the academy, and never
left a case unsolved until he had been granted the department he demanded as
a reward, the X Files...a way to find Kolya and damn the creatures that took
her.
Alex didn't pray, nor did he weep, but his soul burned as he waited for his
lover to awake. It was not long. Mulder's hand, restrained, reached long
fingers to touch his head in benediction. The oxygen tube silenced his voice,
but his lips moved in a faint smile.
"You're going to be okay," Alex said, "I'll get you the best lawyer...you
were injured in the line of duty. You just have to learn to lie, Mulder, lie
to the bastards."
A faint nod...Alex stood and kissed him on the cheek.
Lucy Kazdin's harsh voice said with complete distaste, "Agent Krycek, we have
a bargain. The press is here..."
Walking down the corridor, Kazdin said, "I don't want you to say anything
about abductees or aliens."
Turning to face him, Kazdin snapped, "Tell them that Mulder is," she sneered,
"a wounded hero if you must. Not one word about his claims."
"Agreed," Alex said, "I'm a reasonable man."
"I wonder how reasonable...how did you persuade Bob Mason that it was one of
our bullets that wounded him," Kazdin asked.
"The evidence persuaded him, ballistics," Alex said.
"Evidence that was misplaced after that judgment was made," Kazdin said.
"I never touched it," Alex said, "I've been here."
The elevator had a mirror and Alex straightening his tie. "How do I look?" he
asked.
"Like a hero, Agent Krycek, remember to smile at me for the cameras," Kazdin
instructed. She punched the buttons for the ground floor conference room.
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
The barrage of cameras followed Alex out of the room. He left Kazdin still
hogging the glory light. She was happy enough. Case solved. Everything neat
and tidy.
Walking faster, Alex hit the elevator button. The doors slid closed. Alex
leaned back, thinking. They would put Mulder back in the hospital, but Alex
could guide him, get him to speak the lies that would persuade them he had
given up his delusions. Soon enough, they could be together...
It went dead. The lights flickered and it felt very strange as if gravity had
come undone. "No!" Alex screamed, pounding on the unyielding doors... He hit
the emergency button over and over, but nothing happened.
By the time, the elevator lurched and restarted its ascent; Alex slumped
against the wall, trembling with rage and with fear for Mulder. He stood as
the seventh floor indicator came on. When the doors opened, he ran out into
the sound of sirens and panicked voices.
The window was open; the restraints lay empty. There was a blanket crumpled
by the splayed and melted looking bars that had kept Mulder supposedly safe.
Alex looked out and saw nothing. Nothing but the sky, empty of everything but
stars.
A police officer tried to speak to him, but Alex pushed him away. He found
the stairs and ran down, story after story, finding some numbing to his pain
in the punishing rhythm.
The police officers searching the parking lot, looking in every clump of bush
and in every car were fools. They were looking down, looking in the wrong
direction. Alex lifted his face and stared at the stars.
Standing in the hospital parking lot, Alex stared at upwards. The noise of a
woman's heels alerted him that Scully had found him. He whirled to look at
her and said, "I suppose you have a rational explanation for the way that
Mulder disappeared too?
Scully put her hand on his arm and said, "No, I don't. We'll find him, Alex."
FOXMULDERDBOFANOTHERKIND
She had lost part of him, her partner, her lover, but what they had went
beyond passion. She knew it wouldn't last, that he was always looking for
something that he had never really had.
Alex didn't really hear her. He was staring at the sky. She waited.
Eventually, he would need her help and she would give it.
Watching that beautiful face glaring at the stars, Scully thought that from
the beginning of time, some had always crumpled when the burdens grew too
heavy.
But some became giants and, like Prometheus, they would war with the gods.
Scully knew that Alex was such a man.
He'd steal back his fire from heaven...
Fox Mulder...
Fox Mulder, AKA D.B. Of Another Kind
by Ursula
Arms and legs like pistons, lap after lap, FBI agent Alex Krycek glided
through the warm water of the Hoover gym's pool. He wanted to forget, forget
his sister, forget the conspiracy, and forget that the truth was always
snatched away just as his fingertips touched any part of it.
