Title: FISH FOOD
Author: X-Files
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek
Warnings: Lots of people get killed but they were all bad guys.
Rating: NC-17 ARAO
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter; if they were mine they'd get a lot more sex!
Summary: Krycek has a full-proof plan to take down the Consortium but first he has to kill Skinner.
FISH FOOD
Walter Skinner knelt on the cold cement floor, hands and feet tied behind him, gag in his mouth. "This is a hell of a way for things to end," he thought to himself as the three thugs stood around waiting.
He'd gotten careless. He knew better than to go out to an empty warehouse in the middle of the night without backup. The caller had said it was urgent; they had an injured agent and he was calling for Skinner personally. They supposedly had already called an ambulance but were still waiting.
Walter had jumped right up out of bed and headed for the warehouse. He knew better. He had been overpowered the minute he walked through the doorway. They had him good. The way they were talking, they had orders to take him out. He wondered what they were waiting for.
He strained silently against the ropes that bound him but these guys knew their business and left no wiggle room. Of all the ways he could have been taken out, he never dreamed it would go this way. Just a couple of ordinary dime a dozen thugs; and he was on his knees awaiting that final bullet to the back of his head. They were probably deciding right now which one was going to get to do the deed. One was off by himself talking on his cell phone. He rejoined the others.
"They should be here in a few minutes."
So, they are expecting company! Maybe he still had a chance here. Maybe this was all just to scare him, teach him a lesson, keep him in line. He heard the warehouse door squeak as it opened and heard footsteps. Sounded like two men. That meant five now. His chances seemed dimmer; hope flickered away as the two men walked into the lighted area and he saw who they were. CGB Spender and Alex Krycek! Damn!
"Well, well now. Look what we have here." The slimy voice spoke to him. "You had your chance, Mr. Skinner, more than one, if I recall correctly; but you just can't seem to control your wayward agents. I warned you repeatedly that if you didn't, I would get someone to take your place that would." He inhaled deeply on his cigarette and blew smoke out in Skinner's direction.
"Shit!" he thought. He'd much rather be taken out by a couple of yokels that this slimy bastard and his rat-boy! His pulse was pounding and he was sweating bullets despite the chilly night. The gag in his mouth made it impossible to curse them but he knelt there, chin up awaiting his fate.
"We got him for you, Sir, but we'd rather not …eh…do the deed if you get my drift. Can we just get paid now and leave?" One of the thugs asked.
"We'll take care of that but you need to help with the clean up. Then you'll get your money." The old man dropped his cigarette to the floor, mashed it beneath his foot and nodded to Krycek.
Krycek pulled out his gun and fired. The bullet slammed into Skinner's chest and knocked him over. The world around him went fuzzy; numb. He could hear them talking. They were pulling on him; lifting him up and carrying him.
"He's not dead yet, you know?" One of them asked Krycek as they dumped Skinner into the trunk of Alex's car.
"Are you getting careless, Alex?" the old man asked lighting another cigarette. "You asked for this particular job."
"Nah. I've been thinking I need a new car. This one's a little hot. Thought I'd just dump it in the river; get me another one." He smiled at Spender as he was paying the thugs off.
"I see. And you'd rather Mr. Skinner be alive to enjoy his little swim?"
"That's about it. He's got it coming; all the trouble he's caused us."
Those were the last words Skinner heard before the trunk was slammed shut and blackness surrounded him as he sank into unconsciousness.
He came to every once in a while and was aware that they were driving very fast. He struggled against the ropes as much as he could but it was no use. He couldn't get loose, he had no way to get out of this one and he knew it.
Suddenly the speed of the car slowed and stopped. The trunk popped open and people were pulling at him, laid him out on a gurney and bumped him through the double doors. Someone took the gag out of his mouth and someone was untying him. Krycek was walking along side the gurney speaking rapidly to those wheeling him down the hallway. They bumped through another set of doors and Krycek was told to wait outside. A needle was slid into his arm and the lights went out.
He heard people talking; he tried to call out to them but his mouth wouldn't work. There were other noises, smells; like a hospital. Could he possibly be in a hospital? How could that be? Wasn't Krycek taking him to the river? He ran his tongue over his dry lips and with great difficulty managed to open his eyes.
They were there talking. Krycek and whoever he was talking to. It wasn't Spender, it was a woman. Cassidy! Director Jana Cassidy!
He tried to speak but nothing came out. Krycek saw him move and pointed towards him.
"He's waking up."
"Well it's about time!" Cassidy said coming up to the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"He shot me!" Skinner tried to shout but the words came out in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes, I know he did. That happens to be why you're alive right now." Cassidy said then stepped back from the bed to answer her buzzing cell phone. "Gotta go. I'll expect your full written report in the morning." She said to Krycek as she exited the room.
"How you doing?" Krycek asked and held a glass of water and a straw up to Skinner's lips.
"How the hell you think I'm doing you son of a bitch!" He sipped greedily at the straw, coughing a little.
"Well if you had the choice, which would you choose, a bullet to the shoulder or one in the back of the head?" He smiled.
"What the hell are you talking about? You shot me; you were going to dump me in the river!"
"You heard what I wanted the old man to hear. He thinks you're at the bottom of the East River by now."
"But you got caught! Someone caught you and got me here to the hospital!"
"I brought you here. You're going to be fine. In a few days you'll be good as new."
Krycek stepped back from the bed as someone knocked and came into the room.
"All set Mr. Krycek." The young man said and then left.
"I gotta go dump my car in the river. I had to wait until they found a body we could pass off as yours if the car gets found before we're finished."
"What are you talking about? Why aren't you under arrest? You belong in a cell!" He called after him as Krycek left the room.
"I'll check back in on you when I can." He smiled and was gone.
"What's with all his fucking smiling and why the hell isn't he in jail?" Walter asked the empty room. He looked around for a call button but there was none. He finally
gave up and dozed off again.
He woke up with the sun shining in his eyes and someone standing over him fiddling with his IV. His eyes snapped open as he jerked awake; a sharp pain lancing his shoulder.
"Well, hello there; you finally decided to wake up, I see. My name is Celeste and I'll be looking after you." A gray-haired woman in nurse's uniform stood beside his bed. "How are you feeling? You think you could eat something?"
"Yes, I'm hungry. Where am I? What hospital is this?" He asked looking around and noticing for the first time that the room didn't seem much like a hospital room.
"You're in a private clinic that handles special cases such as yours. I'll see about getting you something to eat." She started out the door.
"Wait; isn't there a call button or something. What about a phone? I have some calls I need to make."
He located the bed controls on the left side of his bed and raised the head of his bed.
"Someone will be in to talk with you shortly." She left.
Something was going on here that he couldn't quite get his mind around. What did she mean, special cases. In DC people were getting shot all the time. Since when is a GSW a special case? Things weren't making sense. And was Krycek really here? After he shot me he brought me here? That doesn't make sense either. And what was Cassidy doing talking to him instead of arresting him? His head hurt and he rubbed the top of it with his good hand and stretched his neck from side to side until it popped.
He heard heels clackety clack down the hall and stopping outside his door. A short knock and Cassidy walked in.
"So you're awake? And I imagine you're giving the staff a hard time already?" She walked over to his bed.
"I need to know what's going on here; I need some answers and I need them NOW!"
The nurse returned just then carrying a tray with his lunch on it. She set it on the little tray/table and moved it over to his bed. "You need to eat every bite now. The sooner you get some food in you the sooner you'll start feeling better."
"How's he doing?" Cassidy asked the nurse.
"Oh he's fine. He'll be sore for a couple of weeks but Krycek never misses. The wound was clean with no significant damage as usual." She smiled at Cassidy and left the room.
"What the hell is she talking about?" Skinner was torn between desperately wanting to eat and wanting to get some answers. He picked up the cup of juice and drank it down.
"Krycek got you out of there the only way he could. He's used that shot before and he never misses. He puts the bullet just below the collar bone and just above the lung; a clean shot."
"I don't get it? Why would he help me? He was talking with Spender about sending me to the bottom of the river. I heard him!"
"You heard what he wanted Spender to believe."
"I'm supposed to believe that Krycek wants Spender to think that he killed me?"
"That's right."
"And what happens when Spender finds I'm still alive?"
"That's what I'm here to talk with you about. We're going to have to keep you here a while; a couple of weeks."
"Why that long? I didn't have to stay in the hospital that long when I was shot in the gut and had to have surgery."
"I'll make this short and sweet so you can get to your lunch. Something big is going down in about 2 and a half weeks. We need you to be dead until then. Once it's over; you're free to go back to being alive. I need to run; eat up and enjoy your little vacation."
She whooshed out the door and he listened to her heels clackety clack down the hall until they were gone.
He struggled to eat his meal left handed which wasn't too difficult as it was a mug of soup and a sandwich with cookies for desert. The food was good and he ate every bite.
He was content the next few days to just lie in bed and let himself be taken care of. By the fourth day he was feeling much better. He was up and around now; capable of using the en-suite bathroom, showering and shaving. His room was very nice, done up like any guest room might be. The only difference being the hospital bed. He had a large screen TV, cable with over a hundred channels to choose from. There was a book case filled with CDs and DVDs plus row after row of books and magazines to read. The one window in his room overlooked a courtyard; immaculately landscaped with a fountain in the middle. He never saw anyone out there though, except early one morning he did catch sight of a grounds keeper trimming hedges.
He asked his nurse Celeste if he could go down there to get some fresh air but she insisted that was impossible.
He didn't start to get really angry until he tried his door once and found it was locked. He pounded on the door with his fist but no one came. When his nurse came the next time it was as though it had never happened.
He bombarded her with questions; railing at her for keeping him a prisoner. She simply smiled at him, set his meal on the table and left assuring him that the locked door for his own protection.
He'd been in there a full week before he saw Krycek again. It was early evening; he'd already had dinner and was standing looking out his window when the short knock on his door startled him. Krycek opened the door and walked in.
"What the hell's going on here, Krycek? Why am I being held against my will? No phone, no visitors and why is my door locked?"
"I see you're feeling better," Krycek smiled at him. "Now that you're off your meds and your mind is clear I can answer your questions."
"Start with what you're doing here; where 'here' is and when I can leave." Skinner ordered standing with one hand on his hip while the other remained in a sling.
"OK. You're in a private clinic in the DC area. It has no name just a designation. PMU63. Meaning Private Medical Unit built in 1963. You will be here another ten days then you can leave."
"Ten more days! WHY? I'm fine and I demand to be released." Skinner was furious.
"As far as anyone knows, you have fallen off the face of the earth. The bureau is pretending to run a quiet search for you; your colleagues have been told you are on emergency leave. The old man is patting himself on the back; happy that you are now out of the way, clearing a path for his new man to slide into your position. It's imperative that you stay 'dead' for the next ten days; then you'll be free to resume your life."
"So just what is it that's supposed to happen in ten days?"
Krycek's grin was wide and sincere. He took a seat on the couch and motioned for Skinner to sit as well.
"I'd rather stand. Are you going to answer my question or not?"
"We are taking the Consortium down to the last man; finally!"
"And just how do you intend to perform this little magic trick that the government has been trying to accomplish for the last several decades?" Skinner sneered.
"It's all planned, all set."
"And my being locked up in here is a part of this plan?"
"No, actually, we had no way of knowing that you'd sufficiently piss the old man off that he'd decide to get rid of you. You became a liability; something he needed to deal with. In any other organization you would just have been shot on sight but the old man wanted you to see him; to know that he was responsible for your death. He had any number of men who could have done the job including me. I've been putting the bug in his ear for the last couple of years that I hated you and when the time came, I wanted the job of taking you out. Last week, he granted me that privilege."
Skinner snorted at him and turned back to the window, disgusted.
"We had to do some quick thinking, make arrangements to have doctors standing by."
"You damn near took my arm off!" Skinner snarled at him.
"You still got it though, don't you?" Krycek was becoming just a little irritated by Skinner's attitude.
"What makes you so sure that this plan of yours is going to work? I can't believe that Cassidy would bring you in on something like this."
"Bring me in? This whole plan is my idea! They've tried for years to take them down and never could do it. They finally agreed to my plan; and let me tell you, it WILL work!"
"If this plan of yours is so great, why hasn't it been tried by now?"
"Well, the bureau is a little antsy about it because it involves multiple deaths."
"Multiple deaths? How many are we talking about here?"
"28."
"28? You expect me to believe that Cassidy has approved you taking out 28 people just to put your little plan into action?"
"The Consortium is now in 14 different countries. There is a big meeting coming up right here in NYC in ten days. The top two men from each country are going to be here. They won't be leaving."
"That's some plan alright! Did you ever stop to consider how you'd get away with this? You think you can take all 28 out by yourself? Don't you think one or two of them might fight back? What do you plan on doing with 28 bodies? You're an idiot, Krycek and Cassidy is crazy if she's fallen for this stupid plan. And why now have you turned against your friends, the Consortium? Didn't get the Christmas bonus you expected?"
"Skinner, do you want to hear the plan or not?" Krycek was becoming exasperated.
"I thought I just did."
"You heard the outline. Are you interested in the details or would you rather stand there ranting and insulting me?"
Skinner heaved an angry sigh and turned to Krycek. "Yes, I would like to hear the details; I haven't had a good laugh yet today."
"OK. Here it is. The meeting is to be an early morning meeting, at the private penthouse dining room in the Kilbourne building. The old man owns the building. Coffee will be served. It will be served in cups that have been treated with a deadly poison. It's a very fast acting poison; it has no taste or odor. It will simply make them sleepy; they will fall asleep and within minutes their hearts will stop beating. Within 15 minutes from their first sip of coffee, they'll be gone."
"OK. You've got that part worked out, I'll give you that. What are you planning to do with the bodies?"
"Cassidy has taken care of that. She is providing a clean up crew. The meeting is to be held on a Saturday, the building will be empty. It is set up to be fumigated that afternoon so everybody will be warned to keep out. Guards will be posted to see that no one enters the building.
After the meeting, Cassidy's crew will show up with a cleaning truck. They'll wheel those big laundry carts in empty and out again filled with body bags. Arrangements have been made to take the bodies to a nearby air field where a plane will be waiting. They will be taken for a one-way ride out over the Atlantic where they will be stripped and dumped, mid ocean where the currents all run south so if any remains do happen to surface, it will be around the South Pole somewhere."
Skinner stared at him, open mouthed, ready to make some sarcastic remark but none came out.
"And Cassidy has agreed to all this?"
"She has."
"I find that hard to believe. Besides, that just takes out the top two men. The Consortium has a lot more men then that."
"Exactly. Each group has attorneys, accountants, and politicians. I have been working for years now and I finally have irrefutable proof to take each one down! I have a nice little set of packages that will be delivered in each country, to the governments, news papers, clean politicians etc; anyone in power in each country. We take the top two out and we have those immediately under them arrested."
"With their money, they will all be out in a matter of days."
"Now that's another part of the plan that I rather enjoyed. You see, I'm a whiz with numbers, accounting, and international banking laws and taxes. I have helped each country to set up a series of accounts where they can switch their accounts around from time to time to avoid paying taxes. I've also helped them in the stock market to make a killing. When one of them needs big money, Spender sends me in to help them and I do.
I know the market like the back of my hand; I know when to buy, what to buy, when to sell, and how to avoid paying taxes on the gains. They all love me and rely totally on my judgment in financial matters."
"So you've helped them get rich – richer. So how does that help the plan?"
"This series of accounts that I have set up, approximately 20 in each country, has one account that is accessible only by me. Nine days from now, all monies in each country will be transferred into accounts that only I have access to."
"And you think their own accountants won't notice this?"
"It's something we've been doing for years now. Switching monies back and forth from one account to another. It will be done just before the close of business on Friday. If they haven't noticed by now that one particular account is inaccessible to them, I doubt they will in the next nine days. It is all done by computer anyway with a program that I set up. When the time comes, I will enact the motion and all funds will become the property of the US government."
"Directly from Consortium accounts into US accounts? Don't you think that will raise some suspicions?"
"It won't go directly into accounts in the US; it will be funneled through several accounts, different international organizations within each country that are under US control. The international banking community only becomes interested if large sums of money leave the country. No money will be leaving these countries. It will all stay in the country it was taken from and channeled back into charitable organizations in that country."
"And just what do you get out of all of this, Krycek? Huh? You get to keep the bank receipts from this country?"
"No thank you. I'd have no use for it. There are plenty of organizations that can use it and use it wisely. I have no say in where any of it goes; that's Cassidy's job."
"And you get nothing out of all this? I find that hard to believe."
"I get something very valuable; my freedom; I'm retiring."
"So you get a free pass, for all the shit you've pulled all these years?"
"I can answer that," Cassidy announced as she entered the room without knocking.
"Krycek has been working for me from the beginning. He has done nothing he needs a pass for; on the contrary. He's one of the very few agents who has done exactly as he's been told year after year."
"You telling me he's been working for you all this time? You are aware that he's one of Spender's boys, aren't you?"
"That's what he was trained for. His orders were to let himself be recruited and report back to me. Do you have any idea how many years we tried before successfully getting someone inside that group?"
The impact of what she was saying slowly dawned on Skinner. "He's been undercover all this time?"
"I think he's finally got it." Krycek grinned at Cassidy.
"It's about time! I want the two of you to go over this entire plan again and again. I know you're sure you have all your bases covered but it's best to get another opinion. You and I have been going over it for years now, Krycek. There might be something that we missed."
To Skinner she said, "You're one of the best strategists we have, Skinner. I want you to go every facet of this plan and see if you can find anything that we missed. This plan has to be 100 full-proof before we put it into action." With that, she turned and left the room.
Skinner looked at Krycek; they stared at one another for a time before the ice melted.
"So let's hear the plan again. I want to hear each and every detail, don't leave anything out."
Skinner was now at his best. He was doing something that he knew how to do and did well. They went over and over the plan until Krycek was yawning and leaning with head resting against the back of the couch. Finally he could take no more.
"OK. You know the plan by heart now. I'm taking off. I need to get some sleep; I've got an early plane to catch tomorrow. Keep going over it in your head and I'll check back in with you in a few days; as soon as I get back into town." He stood and stretched, then slipped his jacket back on.
"There are so many factors involved here; just one slip up anywhere along the line and it's all over." Skinner warned him.
"Yes, I know. I've been working on this plan for years now; you've just had it a few hours."
"You sure this room is secure? There are an awful lot of people involved in this plan, if just one of them screws up…."
"Get some sleep, Skinner. Come at it fresh in the morning; see if you can think of anything that we missed."
"If I do, how can I get in touch with you?"
"You can't. I'll be in touch with you, as soon as I get back into town."
"We only have ten days left; there can't be any loose ends."
"Glad to have you on board with this, Skinner. I've been trying to talk Cassidy to bring you in on it from the beginning."
"I should have been told about you at least."
"Yeah. I guess Cassidy has her reasons." He stifled another yawn.
"Go on; leave. You need to get some sleep."
"So do you."
"I can sleep anytime. Right now I've got a lot of thinking to do."
"All right then. I'll see you in a few days."
"OK. I'll give this plan my best shot."
"I know you will. Night." He smiled and walked out the door.
Four days passed before Krycek appeared at his door again. He had a bruise on his left cheekbone.
"What happened to you?" Skinner asked as Krycek came in and sat down.
"I zigged when I should have zagged." Krycek answered with a smirk.
"You've got to be extra careful now. We only have six days left. You can't risk being taken out just before the end."
"I can't change a single thing that I do or how I do it. I can't afford to do anything that might arouse suspicion."
"You're right, of course." Skinner wiped a hand over his bald head, nervous now that the time was so near.
"Did you come up with anything?" Krycek asked.
"No. I can't find any holes in the plan. You've got everything pretty much covered; as long as you're sure of the people involved?"
"I am; on both sides. I know whose coming; and our people are already in place to distribute those little packages in each country. We just have to send them the word."
"Good. There is one thing. Are you going in as Spender's second man?"
"He doesn't know it yet, but I am. At the last minute Curtis, Spender's second in charge, will take ill; way to ill to attend. I've gone in as second man before at these meetings. It won't arouse any suspicions."
"And you're sure he won't recover in time?"
"He won't recover at all. Cassidy is taking care of that."
"What are you going to do if you get handed a cup of coffee?"
"The meeting is set for Saturday morning. I've already bragged to everyone about the hot date I have for Friday night. I'm going to stay up too late and drink too much and I'll be suffering a roaring hangover. With the help of a little Ipecac syrup I'll manage to throw up where the old man will hear me. I'm to pick him up at his office at 9:30 Saturday morning to drive him to the meeting. Just before I go into his office, I'll take a little nip of the stuff and go in feeling miserable. I'll just make it to the bathroom off his office and puke my guts out. I've used this stuff before and I know how much to take and how long before it'll take effect on me. I'll be able to gauge it right."
"Any chance he'll think you're too sick to drive?"
"Nah. I won't take that much; just enough to let him see that I'm nauseated and that coffee is not what I need. I'll take some bottled water along and sip on that."
"There's just one more thing then."
"What would that be?"
"I want in."
"NO WAY! You're staying right here! I want you safely out of the way in case anything goes wrong."
"Nothing is going to go wrong. This plan is perfect. It's so perfect that no one individual will actually be responsible. The scientists just create the poison; they don't know what's going to be done with it. The next group just coats the inside of the cups with it. They don't know what the substance is and will never hear anything about what happened because of it. Cassidy's caterers only know to deliver the cups to a certain building, and you just get to sit and watch it all take place. No one is directly responsible."
"It's my idea and Cassidy approved it so the two of us are responsible."
"The beauty of this plan is that there will be nothing for anyone to be accountable for. Each group does their job and none of them knows about the others. There won't be any news bulletins or missing person's reports. These people don't have families or anyone who will be looking for them. They just simply disappear. It's a good plan, Krycek. It's going to work."
"I'm glad you approve."
"I do approve, and I still want in."
"NO!"
"Then you must not have confidence in your own plan. There's no way anything could go wrong. I want to be there. I want to see that bastard take his last breath!"
Krycek was weakening; Skinner could tell.
"Cassidy would have my head."
"Then we'll just have to make sure she doesn't find out. You can find a way to slip me out of here and into the building can't you? Take me in a day or two before. There must be some place where I can hide out; keep out of sight; a janitor's closet or something."
"Shit, Skinner. There's no way I can talk you out of this?"
"No! I want to be there!" Skinner was adamant.
"Let me think about it and see if there's someway I can get you in there."
"I'd consider it a big favor, Krycek. The slate between us would be clean then."
"Oh I don't know about that. I think I owe you a little something for that punch in the gut."
"After you beat the shit out of me in that hospital stairwell?"
"It was either my fists or Cardinal's switchblade."
"OK. We can even the score right now." Skinner stood up and held his arms out. "Go ahead, hit me. Take your best shot."
Krycek chuckled. Slamming a fist into Skinner's well muscled stomach was not something he wanted to do but it did give him an idea.
"You tighten up at just the right time and I break my fist."
"OK. I'll close my eyes; I won't even know when you're going to do it." He stood there waiting.
Krycek stepped nearer. Instead of a punch to the gut he leaned up just a bit and kissed him on the mouth; a soft lingering kiss. He stepped back just as Skinner's eyes popped open.
"You gonna hit me again?" Krycek grinned and stood ready to defend himself.
"No…I…Why did you do that?"
"It's something I've wanted to do for years now. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance.
When you closed your eyes, I knew this was it; the only chance I'd ever have."
A thousand thoughts skittered their way across Skinner's mind but none of them settled long enough for him to make any sense out of them. They stood there staring at one another until Krycek broke eye-contact. He turned and headed for the door.
"I'll see what I can do about getting you in on this." He was out the door and gone before Skinner could say a word.
Four days passed and he heard nothing. He had one short visit from Cassidy but that was it. No word from Krycek. Cassidy hadn't heard from him either; at least she said she hadn't. He was no longer sure he could believe anything she said and it gave him cold chills to think what might happen if she screwed this thing up.
Friday night came and he paced the floor hoping to hear something. By midnight he gave up and went to bed, cursing and sure that he'd been left out of things.
"Skinner, wake up." Someone was shaking him. It took a few minutes before he realized Krycek was in his room.
"What's wrong? What's happened? Something go wrong?" He reached for his glasses on the night stand and flicked the light on.
"You still want in?" Krycek was grinning at him.
"You're kidding!"
"If you still want to be there get dressed. I can get you in. I got a place fixed up for you where you can watch all the action."
"You got a see through mirror?" Skinner scrambled into his clothes.
"Better than a mirror. It's a picture; a beautiful landscape; an exact duplicate to the one that normally hangs there. You can look at it real close and not be able to tell the difference. From the other side it's like a picture window. You'll be able to see everything."
"And right now you're supposed to be out on your hot date?" He eased his jacket on over his injured shoulder and grinned.
"Yeah, that's about it. I guess that makes you my hot date for the night. Come on. Let's hit the road."
They slipped out into the deserted hallway and down the back stairs. They paused and looked all around before heading towards Krycek's car, parked next to the building.
Skinner's pulse was racing; he was filled with nervous excitement. It was going down and he was going to witness the fall of the Consortium!
"You get your banking job done?" He asked as Krycek started the car up and drove down the winding hill before he turned his lights on.
"Yep. Sure did. Not a Consortium dollar is available to anyone in the world but me!"
"You're a very rich man tonight."
Krycek laughed out loud at that. "The hell I am! And I will be too until Monday morning when all that money gets dumped into the different accounts that we have set up to move it around."
"You ever give any thought to keeping any of it? You could, you know. Especially the US money. You've earned it."
"No thanks. I don't want a penny of it. I've got my own little stash. The Consortium did pay good money and each time I helped out one of the other leaders with his finances, they always gave me nice bonuses. Plus, I was getting under cover pay by the bureau in a private little account."
"So what are you going to do when this is all over with? Is Cassidy planning on bringing you in?"
"She's already talking some other big plan she has in the works but I'm thinking I'm about finished. I think I've pushed my luck about as far as it will go. I've decided that I'm getting out once this is finished."
"What are you going to do?"
"Nothing for a good long time. I intend to get used to sleeping in a bed for a change; instead of on air planes, or busses or in alley ways or warehouses. I might like to see what it would be like to have three meals a day. After that; we'll see. I might just like doing nothing so much that I'll make a career out of it."
They pulled up in an alleyway the next block over from the Kilbourne building. They looked carefully around and made their way to a back entrance that Krycek had a key for. They slipped inside; the buildings night light system shedding just enough light to see by. They took the elevator up to the top floor; down the hall and through the double doors into the penthouse dining room.
The long narrow table stood in the middle of the room. Krycek walked over to where a picture hung on the wall over a credenza. Skinner followed him over, looking carefully at the picture.
"Is this it?" He squinted to see if he could see anything, he couldn't.
"Yeah; looks good, doesn't it?"
"Sure does."
"Here's where you'll be staying." They walked back out the door into the main hallway and off down a side hallway that led to an emergency exit. There were doors leading to a stairway and also a restroom. They went inside and Krycek showed him into a small utility closet.
He pulled the string on the light and the small space was lit up enough to see the blacked out window. Krycek flipped the small switch at the bottom and there was the meeting room lit up before him.
"You're sure nothing can be seen? Even with the light on?"
"Positive. It's guaranteed. Not a speck of light shows through and the picture looks no different than it did a few minutes ago."
"Amazing!"
"You need to be in this closet with the door locked no later than 9:30 in the morning. It's a little past 3 now so that gives you six hours to wait. You can lie down on a couch in one of the offices and get some sleep if you want. Just make sure you're in here by 9:30 in case anyone gets here early. Here's the key to lock the door from the inside. I brought a chair in from down the hall for you to sit while you wait and this bag here has some snacks in it; bottled water and stuff if you get hungry. Once things start happening, you stay put, quiet and locked in here until I come get you out. I don't want anyone seeing you here."
"Looks like you've thought of everything."
"I know it's a long wait in here for you, but it was the only way I could be sure of getting you in here safely without Cassidy knowing. The current guard on duty is a friend of mine. He slipped me the key."
"I can't believe it's all happening," Skinner said taking a deep breath and rubbing his hands together nervously.
"I know the feeling. Well, I'd better go. I guess our first date is over with." He grinned and walked back out into the hall. Skinner followed him.
"Some date! Don't I even get a goodnight kiss?"
Krycek grinned at him.
"You want a goodnight kiss?"
"That's acceptable on a first date." Skinner stood his ground and waited for Krycek to step in closer; he did.
Krycek leaned towards him and Skinner met him half way. It was a nice kiss; a firm meeting of lips; no tongue, no wandering hands; just a very nice kiss. They stared at each other once it was over, each trying to read the others thoughts. Then Krycek turned and hurried down the hall.
"Call me?" Skinner said to him just before he turned the corner for the elevator. Krycek turned and looked as Skinner waved two fingers at him. Krycek grinned and was gone.
Walter fiddled with his watch and set the alarm for 7:30. He didn't think he'd need it because it would be light by then but he didn't want to take the chance of over sleeping. He walked down the hall to the first office and went in. There was a nice leather couch up against one wall. He wondered, as he walked over to the closet, if this was like the offices at the Hoover, there would probably be a blanket and pillow. Yes, there it was.
He made himself comfortable and tried to doze off. His mind wandered to Krycek and the kiss. That was very nice! He'd have to look into that after this was all over with. Krycek and him? Hmmmm. It was definitely something to think about. His old rule about never getting involved with a co-worker didn't apply here as Krycek was leaving the bureau. That had definite possibilities that warmed him just thinking about them.
Skinner's wrist was vibrating and he came awake with a jerk. His alarm was going off. It had been four hours already! He was amazed. He hadn't thought he'd be able to sleep at all and here it was 7:30!
He got up, folded the blanket and returned it and the pillow to their place in the closet, carefully wiping the knobs clean on the closet and office doors and swiping his handkerchief several times over the couch. He made his way to the restroom, relieved himself and dug around in the bag Alex left, for something to eat. He decided on an English muffin and a container of orange juice.
He deposited his breakfast debris back into the plastic bag it had come from and decided to take a short walk. He went into the dining room next door, careful to use his shoulder to push the door opened. He kept his hands in his pockets to remind himself not to touch anything; didn't want to leave any fingerprints.
He walked around the table and thought about the 28 men who were about to end their lives there. It was a strange feeling. He felt no regrets; no great urge to call it off, to save these lives. These were already wasted lives. Lives that had been spent making others miserable; taking everything they wanted with one hand while strangling the life out of people and countries with the other. He felt no sympathy for them. His only real feelings at the moment were nervous anticipation; an acute readiness to have it all over and done with.
He went back into his little hiding place and turned the light on; he could see everything clearly. He walked back into the dining room and checked. He had to. He leaned over and peered closely at the picture and there was not a speck of light to be seen. He looked at it from different vantage points around the table; nothing. Krycek was right. His presence would be totally undetectable.
He paced the hall and waited. He paced the restroom and waited. By 9:15 he went into the closet. At 9:30 exactly he closed the door and locked it. He sat nervously and waited some more.
At 9:47 he heard voices; footsteps; people were arriving. He switched off the light in his room. It wasn't necessary but somehow he felt more comfortable in the dark.
Spender walked into the room, followed by a meandering Krycek, head down and massaging the back of his neck.
"You should know better than to drink so much," the old man was chiding him.
"Shit, I didn't know I was going to have to show up for your little shindig. I figured I'd spend the day sleeping it off. What the hell is wrong with Curtis anyway?" He went to the coffee machine and turned it on.
"We don't know yet; it sounds like it may be his heart again." The old man lit a cigarette, took a deep drag and blew the smoke out his nostrils.
"So I get to play waitress!" Krycek groused.
"It's all set up. All you have to do is fill each person's cup and hand it to him. Granted it's not the kind of work you're used to but in our profession you do what needs to be done.
"Yeah, well the smell of this fancy designer coffee is about to make me puke again so if you see me head out the door in a hurry you'd better not stop me or it'll be all over your shoes."
Two men walked in; they shook hands and were talking when more showed up.
Walter stood behind his window, palms sweating, watching as they all entered the room and began to mill around. Before he knew it coffee was being passed around and they were taking their seats at the table.
Someone with his back towards Skinner was the first one to sag. The man next to him was laughing and slapping him on the back; offered him some more coffee which he drank. Another at the end of the table was yawning. Someone at the other end of the table slumped against the man next to him. There was laughter at first, teasing one another, more yawns and one fell face down on the table, knocking his coffee cup over. Two men at the end became alarmed as they glanced around the table. They spoke in Italian, Skinner thought, before they tried to get up. One stumbled and fell to the floor, the other slumped against the man next to him.
In reality it took about 10 minutes but it seemed to go a lot faster. Like a string of dominos set to fall against one another, they fell unconscious one by one.
Spender was at the head of the table; head down, chin on chest; his hand still wrapped around his coffee cup.
Krycek walked over and nudged Spender. He rolled off the chair and onto the floor. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number saying just one word, "Cleanup."
Walter stood arms crossed holding himself tight. "Could this be it? Is it really all over?" He thought to himself. Before he had any answers the dining room was flooded with men in white cleanup suits.
They were stuffing the bodies into body bags, one by one. Someone was rolling up the tablecloth with all its contents, cups, ashtrays and all. Krycek was bending over Spender, fingers on his neck feeling for a pulse. He stood up, glanced in the direction of the picture and shook his head no.
The men came in then with the large laundry carts. One by one the body bags were lifted inside. As soon as one cart was loaded another would be filled.
Someone was going over the place with a vacuum, others were spraying the furniture and wiping it down along with the doorway, the walls, anywhere that someone might have touched. The coffee cart was wheeled out and replaced with an exact replica to be returned to the catering service.
And then they were gone; all of them. Walter glanced at his watch. It was 10:22. It was all over and there was no sign that anything had happened in that room just moments before. The end of the Consortium; and he had been witness to it; a moment in world history that should be in all the text books for years to come but he knew not a breath of it would ever see print.
A small rap on his closet door startled him and then he heard Krycek's voice. "It's alright, they're gone. You can come out now."
He fumbled with the key but got the door unlocked. Krycek was at the sink washing his hands.
"It's all over?" Walter still couldn't bring himself to believe it.
"Uh huh. Cassidy said she'd keep me informed along the way. She has a clear route to the air field; the plane is waiting for them."
"She's going along?"
"Oh yeah. She wants to make sure the old man doesn't manage to weasel out of this one. She wants to watch the drop."
"I guess somebody needs to follow through." Walter said with a grimace.
"You ready to get out of here?"
"I am!"
They left the restroom and headed for the elevator. In moments they were in Krycek's car heading towards Crystal City.
"You taking me home?" Walter asked when Krycek took the CC off ramp.
"Yeah. I figured you were about sick of that room. Cassidy already put the word out that you had a family emergency to explain your sudden absence. She didn't go into details so you can say whatever you like."
They pulled up into the parking area for Skinner's building and stopped.
"You want to come up? I could find something for breakfast."
"No thanks. I'm still a little queasy from that Ipecac. I really just want to get some sleep."
"Sure, ok. Thanks for everything." He was suddenly at a loss for words. What do you say to someone who just saved about half of the world from the grips of an incredibly evil organization?
Krycek nodded and drove away.
Skinner went up to his apartment; glad to be home at last. He took a hot shower and climbed into bed. It was dark when he woke up and his stomach was growling. He dressed and went downstairs and fixed himself some dinner. It wasn't much but it didn't matter to him, he didn't taste it anyway. He just needed something to put in his stomach before the bottle of Jack Daniels he planned on emptying.
He was about half way through the bottle and feeling a lot more relaxed when someone knocked at his door. He cursed as his first thought was that Mulder was there with a thousand probing questions about his absence. He peeked out the peephole and saw Krycek standing there. He unchained the lock and opened the door.
"Hi! Wanna get drunk?" Krycek held up a bottle of Cutty Sark.
"That's on my agenda for the evening. Come on in."
They sat on the couch facing each other; Krycek taking a swig out of the bottle.
"Oh, let me get you a glass."
"Don't need a glass; it's almost gone anyway." He tipped the bottle up and drank some more. "I brought two bottles. Damn! I left the other one in the car."
"No matter. I got mine right here." Skinner sat back down with his bottle and took a swig.
"I wanted to tell you, I heard from Cassidy."
"You did? Everything go OK?"
"Yep. The old man's fish food now."
"Good enough for him! Bet those fish get indigestion."
They snickered and laughed at that; then took another long drink.
"What happens now?"
"Nothing we'll ever hear about. Nothing you'll ever read in any reports. It's all just finished."
Walter thought about that for a while then asked.
"Cassidy say anything about bringing you in?"
"Yeah; I told her to go to hell." He took another drink.
"Did you?" Skinner grinned wide; that was something he had always wanted to do.
"Yep. Thought about telling her to kiss my ass but I was afraid she just might try to do it."
They laughed at that.
Krycek upended his bottle and finished it off.
"I'd better go before I get too drive to drunk." He mumbled as he struggled to stand.
Walter laughed at him. "You're already too drive to drunk. Better stay here and sleep it off."
"You comin on to me, AD Walter?" Krycek slurred his words and Skinner found it hilarious.
"Absofuckinlutely, Alex Krycek! You can't hold your liquor like I can," he finished off his bottle and got to his feet with almost as much difficulty as Krycek had.
"Watch out there," Alex caught him, "You almost fell on your ass." He laughed.
"C'mon; got room upstairs." They headed for the stairs.
"You really want to do me?" Krycek asked as they made the first few steps with great difficulty.
"Yep. Soon as we get up these damn stairs. Didn't remember them being this steep before. Careful there, hold on the railing."
"Can't reach it. It's on the other side. Just hold on you, K?"
"Watch that step; it's movin,"
"Shit! Need to sit down; gonna sleep now." Krycek slid down the wall sprawled out on the steps.
"Thought you wanted to do it? You don't want to?" Walter sat down beside him just for a minute until the stairs stopped wavering.
"I do. C'mere," he pulled Walter to him by his shirt front and kissed him.
"Oh that's good. More." Walter said and went back in for more.
"Yeah, more," Alex agreed in between kisses.
This time tongues and hands were definitely involved; kisses slurped down the side of necks, hands worked their way into each others clothes. Alex's head banged back against the wall as Walter tried to lie on top of him. He didn't care. He managed to get Walter's shirt off and was nuzzling his nose in the soft chest hair. Walter was tugging on jeans, getting both pair down and pistoning his hips into Alex's. Alex's lips found a nipple and sucked hard; Walter let out a yelp of pleasure. He fiddled with Alex's shirt getting it off and ran his hands over his almost hairless chest; brushing lightly over the straps of the prosthesis and latching onto a nipple. He squeezed and rolled the nipple in his fingertips as Alex moaned underneath him. Their mouths were glued together, Cutty Sark and Jack Daniels mixing; stirred by two fervent tongues desperate for the others taste.
Alex lost it first, he grabbed Walter's hips and bucked against them as much as he could with the larger man's weight pressing down on him. That triggered Walter and he pumped through his climax. They lay together on the stairs for several moments as if frozen in time; neither one wanting to be the first to move.
"Jeeeze, you made a mess." Walter laughed and lifted his weight up off Alex.
"I did? Hell you squashed it out of me!" Alex laughed and they tried to stand. Helping each other, they made it the rest of the way up the steps and into the bathroom. They took a quick shower together covering each other with kisses and caresses. Soon they were dried off and wrapped around each other in Walter's bed.
"Soon as we wake up, I'm gonna fuck you, OK?" Walter whispered against the top of the head lying against his chest.
"Promise?" Came the breathless reply.
"Promise! Just need to rest my eyes for a few minutes."
"Yeah, me too."
They closed their eyes, inhaled each others scent and went to sleep.
Walter Skinner awoke some time later with a head ache, a hard on and an empty bed. He called out but there was no answer. He scurried down the steps and into the kitchen; the laundry room, the balcony. The place was empty; Alex was gone. He sat on his couch and wished that his head ache would leave as fast as his hard on had. Alex was gone.
Monday morning he showed up at work at the usual time. Every one was glad to have him back and with his arm no longer in a sling, he seemed none the worse for wear. He sat down at his desk and Kim brought him in some coffee. Seeing his mood, she left him to himself.
Walter worked diligently at his desk trying to catch up. Kim brought in files, messages, the usual routine of a days work at the Hoover. By mid afternoon he could stand it no longer and phoned Cassidy's office for an appointment to see her.
At 5PM he walked into Cassidy's outer office and within minutes was escorted into her office. She was at her desk with a pencil in her mouth, going over some paperwork. She motioned for him to sit down. She made a notation on the papers then shoved them into a file folder and gave Skinner her full attention.
"What can I do for you?" She asked lacing her hands together on the desk in front of her.
"Where is he?" Skinner demanded, leaning towards the desk.
"Where is who?"
"Krycek! Have you got him off on some other assignment already; without even giving him a chance to catch his breath?"
"As a matter of fact he is off doing a little something that I arranged for him. What's it to you?"
"Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed under his breath and stood; rubbing the back of his neck.
"I have some questions for him. How can I get in touch with him?"
"You can't."
"The hell I can't! Where is he?"
"He will not be available for several months; find your answers elsewhere." She pulled another file out of the stack on her desk and began to rifle through it.
"He just pulled off the biggest coup in the bureau's history and you don't even give him a few days off before you send him out again?"
"He volunteered."
"Yeah, I'm sure he did! I want to know right now where he is and how I can get in touch with him!" He leaned on her desk, and glared at her.
"Mr. Skinner, this meeting is over!" she stood, dismissing him.
A short rap on the door and Beverly stuck her head in announcing that Cassidy's 5:15 appointment was here. Cassidy thanked her and walked Skinner to the door. "I'm sure he'll be in touch once he gets back."
"And when is that likely to be?" Skinner insisted.
"Six to nine months." Cassidy answered as she opened her door for the next AD to enter.
Skinner was seething as he left her office. He didn't even return to his own office; just called Kim and told her he was going home.
The weeks passed and Skinner went through the motions. He went to work every morning; read his reports, sat in meetings did everything he was supposed to do. But the evenings were totally different. He spent them in silent contemplation. No radio or TV to distract his thinking processes. His past life spread out before him as he wandered through the memories; reliving old experiences; remembering old dreams. He ate his dinners quietly and alone; he stayed away from the liquor cabinet.
Four months passed and he found himself in Cassidy's office again.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, then seeing the look on his face added, "No, he's not back yet, no there's no way you can reach him. He'll get in touch with you if and when he's ready to." She drummed her fingers on the desk top.
Skinner dropped a letter on her desk. As she read it, he pulled out his badge, ID and gun and placed them all on the corner of her desk. She laid his letter of resignation down with exasperation.
"Forget it! I'm not accepting this." She tossed the letter back to him.
"You have no choice. I have 22 years in; it's my right to decide when I want to leave. I'm through as of right now." He turned and headed for the door.
"You want to tell me what this is all about?" She asked his retreating back.
"I've had enough. I'm through. I ask only one thing of you and that's that you find Kim a suitable position somewhere. She's an excellent worker and a valued employee."
"I don't give a damn about your assistant. I want to know what's burning your ass. You still upset about Krycek?"
"I have no intention of discussing my motives with you. Nowhere in the Request For Retirement handbook is that listed as a requirement."
"So you think you can find him on your own?" She grinned at him.
He had the greatest desire to pick her up and throw her out the window but his years of training helped him to curb that impulse.
"You'll never find him without my help and you won't get that unless you take this back." She called after him.
"I'll leave the rest of the paperwork with Kim. She'll see that you'll get it." He walked on out the door leaving it wide opened which he knew she hated.
He deposited the completed forms on Kim's desk with a letter of recommendation on top. She nodded her tear stained face at him as he said good-bye and walked out the door. He put his coat on in the elevator and glanced around at all the familiar faces as he walked down the hall and out the front door.
He breathed in deeply the morning air and felt absolutely free for the first time in years.
Not since he had returned from Nam had he felt such exhilaration. He was free! He was alive and well and he was going to do what needed doing.
He drove into the old part of down town that was mostly warehouses now; down unmarked streets and into a familiar alley. He got out and walked to the door; pounding on it with the side of his fist. He was on his fourth knock when he heard the chains and locks being opened inside.
The door opened a bit and a small man peered out.
"Jesus, Skinner what are you doing out at this hour?" Frohike asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Walter walked in through the opened door and answered, "Frohike its 10:30 in the morning."
"Already?"
"What's going on?" a sleepy headed Langley walked into the room wearing a purple plaid pajama bottom and a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt. "Oh shit the Skin man! Is Mulder in trouble again?"
"No, Mulder has nothing to do with my visit. I have a job for the three of you. Where's Byers?"
John Byers walked into the room at that time, fully dressed, three piece suit and all. "Right here. What can we do for you Mr. Skinner?"
"I need help finding someone."
"We're not exactly the Missing Persons Bureau here." Frohike said, starting a pot of coffee.
"I know that. This is a special case; a missing agent. It's imperative that I find him."
"I don't mean this to sound mean but did you try the FBI? I hear they're good at this sort of thing." Langley said.
"As a matter of fact, I did and got nowhere. I'm willing to pay."
"How much?" Frohike asked quickly.
"Are we looking for Mulder again?" Byers asked.
"No. Someone else. Alex Krycek." Skinner answered taking his coat off. Whether they knew it or not, he wasn't leaving until they agreed to help him.
"Oh, shit no! Not rat-bastard, scum sucking Krycek; the guy who killed Mulder's father!" Langley backed away shaking his head. "He's fucking Consortium. We don't mess with them. We'll take a pass on this one Skin man."
"Has this Krycek killed someone else?" Byers asked.
"No. And it turns out; he wasn't what we all thought he was. I don't know all the details yet, but he has been working undercover for Director Cassidy for the last 8 years."
"Son of a bitch! Does Mulder know?" Frohike asked.
"No. No one knows yet. He just finished up a big assignment and before I got to question him, Cassidy sent him off on another job. He's been gone four months and there's been no word from him."
"Have you spoken with Director Cassidy?" Byers asked.
"I have. She refuses to answer any of my questions; just says he's unavailable for the next several months."
"Sounds like he's just busy to me. What's so important you can wait until he gets back to ask him?" Frohike asked.
"I'd be willing to pay whatever you asked." Skinner said seriously.
"I can ask quite a lot," Frohike said.
"Can you pay $1500?" Langley asked.
"Langley!" Byers said.
"Well we need it; rents due tomorrow!"
"Yes, you've got it. I'll write you a check right now for $1500 and there will be another check for the same amount when we find him."
"Whew! You must want him bad!" Langley whistled.
"OK. You got yourself a deal. We don't have to catch him for you do we? I mean the deal is just that we locate him for you, right?" Frohike asked.
"Right. I just need to find out where he is. I can take care of the rest myself." He pulled out his checkbook and wrote the check out and handed it to Byers. "You can start right now, can't you?"
"Yeah, sure. It's not like we got anything else going." Frohike agreed and sat down at his computer.
Several hours passed….
"I tell you, there's just nothing out there. No ones heard anything about the Consortium in months." Langley reported as he finished off the last piece of pizza in the box.
"Nothing from the Bureau's end either." Byers joined them from his computer station.
They'd been at it all day, it was close to midnight.
"Did you make it clear to Cassidy how important it was for you to get in touch with him? Maybe she's just being stubborn; PMS or something." Frohike suggested.
"I did and she made it perfectly clear that she wasn't going to tell me." Skinner stood and walked around the room a bit; stretching his legs.
"Bitch!" Langley said under his breath.
"OK, Byers said, summing up the situation. "We tried it from the Consortium angle, we tried it from the Bureau angle; what about a personal angle? Does he have any friends he might be in contact with? What about relatives?"
"When you're undercover with the consortium, you don't have friends. You have contacts and Cassidy was his only contact. He has no living relatives." Skinner answered.
Frohike popped a hand full of Rolaids in his mouth and chewed. "One of these days, I'm going to get my stomach checked out. I swear I've got an ulcer!"
"What about Krycek's health?" Langley asked. "Any chance he's seeing a doctor for something? Does he take any prescriptions that we might be able to trace?"
"No, he was perfectly healthy the last time I saw him. He's not taking any medications that I know of."
"Does he have a drug problem; alcohol? Maybe she's got him stashed someplace drying out?"
"No, he's not into that stuff. He couldn't do the work he does if he was."
"So he's got no chronic health problems; bad teeth, ulcers, asthma; nothing that would require a doctor's supervision?" Byers asked.
"No, nothing." Skinner was loosing hope by the minute.
"What about…didn't he have a fake arm? Mulder used to call him a one-armed something or other." Langley asked.
"Yes, he has a prosthetic left arm."
"Does he ever have any problems with it? Has he gotten a new one lately?" Frohike asked.
"Not that I'm aware of; how could anything like that be traced?"
"We can check into all the doctors in the area handling prostheses and see if he's been in recently." Langley was already tapping the information into his computer. "What's his home state, do you know? He'd probably go there for medical care."
"He lost his arm while he worked for the Bureau. Check out the Bureau doctors first."
Skinner advised.
Skinner, Frohike, and Langley hunched over Langley's computer while Byers tapped away at his computer across the room. Thirty minutes later they still had nothing. No bureau doctor had treated an agent with a prosthesis in years; another dead end.
"Any possibility he might be thinking about getting a new arm?" Byers asked. Three heads turned to look at him.
"How long did Cassidy say he'd be gone?"
"6 to 9 months; why?" Skinner walked over to Byers computer.
"You said he had just finished up a big assignment; isn't it unusual to be sent right back out again immediately?" Byers asked.
"Yes it is. Why?"
"And he lost his arm on Bureau business; any chance that the Bureau might be willing to spring for a new prosthesis for him?"
"There was no hint that he was in the market for a new arm." Skinner said losing hope again. "What are you thinking?"
"I remember reading something in JAMA about a new state of the art concept in prostheses. They're still in the experimental stage so the price is staggering but they are supposed to be so realistic and maneuverable as to be almost undetectable. They even have a device in them that keeps the prosthesis the same temperature as the rest of the body."
"Something like that would cost more than an agent could afford." Langley offered.
"What makes you think there's a connection?" Skinner asked.
"It probably doesn't mean anything; it just caught my eye is all."
"What did?"
"Recovery time. It's a surgical procedure; these prosthesis are surgically attached."
"And?"
"Recovery time is 6 to 9 months."
The four of them stared at each other.
"He couldn't afford something like that. It's probably cost millions." Langley insisted.
"This assignment he just completed? You think it was important enough that the bureau might kick in some big bucks for a new arm for him?" Frohike asked.
"Yeah, they just might. Who's doing these surgeries; and where? See if they are in the process of doing one right now." Skinner was hyped again.
Byers worked furiously at his computer for a few minutes. "How long did you say he's been gone?"
"Four months." Skinner answered.
Byers turned to him with a grin. "They started a new one four months ago."
"Where?"
"Rochester, New York." Byers answered and hit the print key. Pages of information began filling the tray.
"Any information at all about the patient?" Skinner asked eagerly, scanning the pages.
"35 year old male, left arm amputated between the shoulder and elbow."
"That's him!" Skinner grabbed his coat.
"It might not be him, Skin man. There's lots of guys could fit that description." Langley warned.
"He's right, Skinner. Don't you want to call or something to make sure it's him before you take off up there?" Frohike agreed with Langley.
"It's him. I know it is." Skinner had his coat on and was waiting while Frohike unlocked all the locks and was out the door before it was barely opened.
He called the airport with his cell phone as he headed to Crystal City. The next plane to Rochester was in two hours. He booked a ticket and headed for home. He had time for a shower and shave and to throw some clothes in a bag before he was off. Once he was parked at the airport he unlocked his glove box and took out his spare badge, gun and ID. Just in case.
The plane landed at 6:12AM and the rental car was waiting for him. He had printed out the directions to the private clinic where the experimental procedures were being done.
He arrived just past 7:00 and was stopped by a guard at the gate. He showed his badge and the gate was opened for him without question.
He drove to the main building amidst the landscaped grounds and got out. He had no idea what he was going to say but he had come this far and he wasn't turning back. This just had to be Alex!
He walked up the steps and through the main doors. At the receptionist's desk he said, "Dr. Addelstein's office?"
"That would be 411, Sir." She smiled sweetly at him.
"Thank you," he remembered to be civil though it took everything in him not to go tearing up the stairs as he stood waiting for the elevator. It finally came and deposited him in the hallway outside the 4th floor nurse's station. He walked down the hall and opened the door to 411.
"Good morning, do you have an appointment with Dr. Addelstein?" A pretty young thing behind the desk asked.
"This is all the appointment I need," he showed his badge.
The girl stood, looking at his ID, not knowing what to do when a white-haired man in his 60s came out from an inner office.
"Everything alright, Audrey?"
"Sir, this man is from the FBI." She stood wide-eyed.
"Can I help you?" the doctor said.
"I'm here about Alex Krycek." Skinner said.
"Oh good! You must be Mr. Krycek's brother! We were so hoping you could make it!" He ushered Skinner into his office.
"Alex explained that you were his only living relative but that your job kept you traveling a great deal and you might not be able to make it. I'm so glad you did. Sit down, please." He took a seat behind his desk and Skinner sat in the chair in front.
"This kind of surgery is so new that many of our patients become frightened or disillusioned before giving their rehabilitation the time needed. It's important that they have the support of a family member to help them through the long weeks needed for complete recovery."
"Could you explain to me the exact nature of this surgery?"
"Why, yes, of course. Didn't Alex inform you of the process?"
"We talked by phone; he wasn't too specific on the details."
"Well I can understand that. My practice has me on the road a lot too. It's difficult keeping up with things when you're on the go."
"How serious is this surgery? Is he in any danger?"
"There is always an element of danger during any surgery but that danger has long since passed. His surgery was, let me see…" He pulled a file folder out of his desk drawer and opened it. "four months ago now. He is well into the rehabilitation stage; the stage where it's most important for him to have a coach. That's you. Did he not send you the paper work on what's expected of you?"
"He probably did. It just hasn't caught up with me yet."
"Yes, of course. Basically you just need to keep his spirits up; monitor his exercises; see that he eats right and takes his medication on time. There's very little to it on your part but it's none the less vitally important to the patient to know that he is not alone and that someone is there for him when he needs it." He handed Skinner a pamphlet explaining the duties and responsibilities of a transplant coach.
"That's what I'm here for." Skinner assured him as he scanned the pamphlet.
"Good! Well, I'm sure you'd like to see him. I can show you where his cottage is. It's on my way." They stood and walked out the back door of the office, out into a hall that led outside. In the back of the main building, Walter could see a series of small cottages scattered across the park-like acreage.
"He's all the way in the back; #22. Have a nice visit now, and I'll see the both of you at afternoon rounds." The doctor turned off and headed in another direction.
Skinner walked on towards the cottage and wondered why Alex hadn't told him about this; why he felt it necessary to keep it secret.
He knocked on the door and waited. A small movement of the curtain told him Alex was there. He knocked a second time before he heard the chain being undone. The door opened a crack.
"What are you doing here?" Alex asked.
"I'm your coach, brother."
"Did Cassidy send you?"
"Hell no. I had to use Mulder's Lone Gunmen to find you."
"Shit! Please don't tell me he's here too?"
"No, I'm here alone."
The door opened wide and Walter walked in. They stared at each other for a time. He noticed the sling on Alex's left arm.
"May I sit down?" Walter asked after a few awkward moments.
"Of course; please." Alex nodded to the couch while he sat opposite in a chair.
"Any particular reason you didn't tell me about all this?" Walter asked.
"There was no reason to involve you."
"So you slip out in the middle of the night and I just never see you again? Is that the way you see this ending?"
"I didn't know how it was going to turn out; I still don't."
"So you thought it best to let me think you'd run out on me?" Walter was angry and he didn't want to be. He wanted to scoop Alex up in his arms and tell him he'd take care of him the rest of his life but he knew that wasn't what Alex wanted. Lack of sleep made it difficult to organize his thoughts.
Alex broke eye contact; looking away. "Why are you here?" he asked.
Walter thought about that a minute then answered, "Because you're here."
Alex stood up and walked over to the little kitchenette and opened the refrigerator. He took out a bottle of water. "You want some water? I have water and apple juice."
Walter stood, removed his coat, tossed it on the end of the sofa, and joined Alex. "I'll take a juice," he replied standing there leaning back against the counter.
Alex handed him one and again they were standing there staring at one another.
"By the way, I retired." Walter said with a smile trying to ease the tension between them with a little normal conversation.
"You retired? When? Why?"
"Yesterday. I decided I'd had enough. I was miserable. I hated my job, I hated that granite mausoleum where I live; I pretty much hated my life in general. I decided to do something about it."
"What are you going to do?"
"Whatever catches my fancy. First of all, I'm going to find someplace else to live; someplace out in the country; away from the noise and stink of the city; a small town somewhere where I can spend my days in jeans and boots and flannel shirts." He grinned.
Alex returned his grin and looked down at the floor. "Sounds nice. I like flannel shirts."
"You do?"
"Uh huh."
"Perfect. I'll see that we each get a dozen or so."
"So why are you really here?"
Walter couldn't think of the right words so he sat his juice container on the counter and took the two steps over to Alex. With a crooked finger under his chin, he brought their mouths together in a quick firm kiss.
"We have a little unfinished business between us."
Alex's breath caught; he didn't dare to hope that his dreams might be coming true. He had to keep asking.
"You came here because you want to fuck me?"
"That's part of the reason." Walter nuzzled his nose against Alex's cheek.
"And the other part would be?" Alex could barely get the words out.
"You need me." He nibbled an ear lobe.
"I do?" His voice was hardly more than a whisper.
"Uh huh. I like being needed."
Alex still couldn't believe his ears; thought maybe he hadn't heard right.
"So you're going to look after me while I'm here and afterwards you get to fuck me?"
"Actually I was thinking of a more permanent situation. Like maybe we get through the next few months of your rehabilitation and then the two of us ride off into the sunset together in my SUV and live happily ever after." He kissed him again. "What do you think of my idea?"
Alex backed away; walked back into the sitting area. He was shaking like a leaf. Walter came up behind him, put his arms around him, resting his chin on Alex's shoulder.
"Did you have plans for when this is all over?"
"Yes! No! I don't know!" He pulled free from the embrace. "Walter this may not work out. I may be stuck with that old plastic arm for the rest of my life!" He raised the arm in the sling just a bit.
"Then we deal with it. You've dealt with it for years; why is it a problem now?"
"Because it is! It's ugly and plastic and I hate the damn thing!"
"I can understand that. Is that why you decided to try this implanted prosthesis?"
"Oh, it's more than just an implant, Walter. It's almost like having a real arm again. It looks real, it feels real and can do must of what a real arm and hand can do. It's fused to the bone and nerves. There aren't any straps and I don't have to take it off…" His green eyes blazed with excitement.
"Sounds wonderful, Alex. So why didn't you want me to know about it?"
"There's a possibility it might not work out; if I can't learn to use it, they'll take it off and I'm back to the plastic thing with the straps again." He sat down on the couch; fear and despair plain on his face.
"And you thought that would make a difference to me?"
"It makes a difference to me, Walter! You're so…perfect…"
"What? Alex, I am far from perfect! I've got my share of scars; I'm bald, middle aged," Walter sat down beside him.
"Walter, I've been in your bed. I know how perfect you are."
"Alex, I really don't give a damn about your arm. Whether your new one works out or you go back to the old one, it makes no difference in the way I feel about you. YES, I very much hope this new one works because it means so much to you, but if it doesn't; we can live with it; whatever it takes."
"You have no idea what it's like living with that…that thing."
"You're right, I don't. You have no idea what it's like living with no hair on the top of your head either." He rubbed a hand across the top of his bare scalp.
Alex grinned a sad little grin. "That's different."
"It's all tied up with the image we have of ourselves. You see yourself as a one-armed man. I see myself as a bald-headed man 13 years older than you. You don't think that worries me?"
"I just don't want to be "the one armed freak" the rest of my life!"
"Alex, what happened to you was horrific. I've read your reports. If I could change what happened to you, I would. I can't. We are both damaged men; physically and mentally; but there is something between us; something good; a chemistry that won't be denied. It's been there from the beginning; we both know that. I'd like to explore that something; see if we can make a life out of it. I think we can; it's there, Alex, I know it is. I think you know it too."
Alex stood up and walked a few steps away, needing to put some space between them. He ran his hand through his hair and cradled his new arm against him.
"If this works out…"
"Whether it works out or not, Alex, I want to be with you. Wherever you decide to go when you leave here; I want to go with you. None of the rest matters."
"I still have several months here before I can even think about leaving."
"So I understand after reading this brochure the Doctor gave me. You need a coach; I'm applying for the job. Give me a shot here, Alex."
"If this thing works out; I'd be almost normal again. I could do about everything; just not any heavy lifting."
"I can do whatever heavy lifting you need."
"I've got lots of exercises I need to do everyday; medicine to take, protein drinks; there's a lot involved."
"Good. We'll have something to do with out time. I like exercising, and I can see that you don't forget your medications."
"Walter, you really want to do this? Be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere? I can't go into town or anything. I have to stay right here on the grounds."
"Sounds great to me. No commuting, no traffic. The brochure says these cottages are all two bedrooms so the coach has a place to stay as well. I just brought a few things with me. I'll need to run into town and pick up a few more. Anything I can get you while I'm in town?" He stood and picked up his coat, shouldering it on.
"Walter…"
"Tell me you don't want me here; tell me you'd rather I walk out that door and never come back. If you can do that, then I'll leave; head back to DC and try to find something else to do with my life."
"I can't do that. I've wanted you from the first day we met and not a day has gone by in the last 8 years that I haven't thought about you and me together. I just wanted to come to you whole; or at least as whole as I can be."
Walter closed the distance between them with two steps and rested his hands on Alex's shoulders.
"Alex, if this is what you need to feel whole, than we can work on it together. I was hoping maybe this might accomplish that." He brought their mouths together in a long slow sweet kiss that left them both breathless when it ended.
"Walter…"
He kissed Alex again, pulled him gently into his arms. "Give me a chance, Alex; give US a chance. We deserve that much, don't we?"
"I want the same thing you do, Walter, I'm just afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of being with you and then you changing your mind; deciding that I wasn't what you really wanted after all."
"That's not going to happen."
"I've waited so long for this moment; dreamed about it. I just never thought I'd be so panicky about it if it happened."
"You've been through a lot the last several years and you got through it all alone. You're not alone any more, Alex. You don't ever have to be alone again." He cradled Alex's head against his chest.
"I love you, Walter. Is it OK to say it?"
"Uh huh. I kinda like hearing it. I love you too, Alex. You…I don't know. You fill me up, I guess is what I'm trying to say. You complete me."
Alex leaned back and blinked the tears from his eyes. "You really gonna buy me some flannel shirts?"
"Absolutely. I'll get some while I'm in town. You got something to do for a couple of hours or so until I get back? You got any exercises scheduled or anything I need to be here for?"
"Not until late this afternoon. I already did the morning set and took my pills. I usually take a nap about now."
"Good idea. You grab a nap and I'll be back before you know it." Walter headed for the door.
"Wait; here." Alex fumbled in a drawer and pulled out a key with the #22 on it. "I guess you'll need this if you're going to be living here."
Walter smiled and took the key, clasping it tightly in his hand. "I like the sound of that. I'll be living here."
"Hurry back." Alex said.
"I will; and when I get back; I'm staying; for good."
Alex locked the door behind Walter and headed for his bed. He lay down with a smile on his face and a prayer in his heart. "Please, God, don't let this be a dream. Bring him back to me." He dozed off with the taste of Walter Skinner still on his lips.
The End