Call It Treason

*** PROLOGUE ***

Scientific Research Site ~ Ice Station, Antarctica. June 22nd, 1992.

The man's body slammed into the metal wall with a nauseating crunch. He managed to open his eyes to find Rock and Willow standing up in front of him. "Why?" he whispered, blood spraying from his mouth as he spoke. Rock sneered and cracked a knuckle pointedly.

"Originally because you saw things you shouldn't have. Now because you evaded quick, painless death by killing 5 of your colleagues. *Now* you suffer." The man closed his eyes.

"They weren't my colleagues. None of you were. Who are you?" Willow snickered, "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you..."

The two SEALs laughed at their joke and stared at the man again. He was lying crumpled, seemingly unable to move. He was still wearing his marine's uniform, minus the helmet, but it was marred by rips and blood. There was an awful lot of blood on the man. Blood and broken bones and now, finally, after almost two hours of lethal manhunt, the look of defeat had entered his eyes.

"Finish it," he whispered -almost a supplication- and instantly retched as his own painfully emitted words raked the back of his throat. More blood spurted from his mouth and he moved his hand to wipe his chin with savagely broken fingers. He winced, closing bloodshot eyes. Indeed his face was a mess. Torn and beaten, one eye almost indistinguishable amid the mass of puffy and bloody flesh. Merely a slit. His hair too, was blood matted, dusty and even singed where it had apparently caught fire.

"Oh I'm going to," Rock promised. The man expected him to pull a gun, but Rock had other plans. In a lightening move, he was down by the man and dragging him towards the centre of the deck - directly under the glass roof. With a ferocious kick that made the man groan and added another cracked rib to the count, Rock propelled him into the central pole. The man hit it with a Kevlar plated shoulder - standard uniform for a navy SEAL.

He blinked up at his once friend, once colleague, in bewilderment, mind not understanding.

Rock harshly bound his wrists around the pole with a piano string-like garrotte. The man yelped as fine metal dug acutely into already deeply mutilated skin. Willow just watched and smiled. "We got the sonofabitch," he announced into his headset.. Cheers could be heard and he smiled complacently down at the man. "Now for the finale!"

The man sagged in his bonds. He was literally broken and almost shredded too. He was a trained killer who had managed to eliminate 5 SEALs in self-defence. The survivors weren't going to go easy on him, but he had the solace to know he would more than likely pass out or pass away at the first blow already. He also knew his body was mangled beyond repair anyway. Soon, River, Shawn, Wolf and Desperado joined their team mates around the captured marine. No emotion traceable on their faces. Rock looked up at the sky-light with consideration. Beyond it was the starless sky of the South Pole sky. He glanced at his watch, then at his unit.

"23 minutes and a cruise missile complete with nuclear head will hit this station. We won't be here, but it will act as an eraser for everything else." He looked directly into the man's eyes and sneered, "You won't even see it coming. Congratulations for getting in as many hits as you did. You're... you *were* a good marine. But one who has seen oh so much more than allowed. Bad luck and goodnight."

With these words the commanding officer of a SEAL unit in which only one man hadn't been a highly classified search, secure and total destruction agent, ordered his men to evacuate the Antarctica research station.

The man forced his eyes to remain open and his mind to stay aware as he looked bitterly at the haze of light beyond the glass and counted the seconds...

A blinding flash of white starred out from the ice - an explosion visible from the moon that concluded in a red and black mushroom.

THE WASHINGTON POST - June 24th, 1992

"9 scientists killed when US research facility on Antarctica explodes in freak accident. Causes of the detonation are being investigated."

DEPARTMENT OF DEFENCE - classified document

Telex from US missile cruiser 'USS Rebound' from C.O. Reggie "Rock" McDonald to immediate superior Jonathan Culling.

"Base secured. Body count after cleansing operation 9 (names included). UFO secured. Alert naught. "Trouble from non-SSTD member of unit. Problem terminated. Body count 5 (names included). Base, UFO, destroyed by Eraser type NC-9732 BC 773 (nuclear cruise missile). "Mission success. Over and out."

A strange and eerie silence fell over the eternal twilight of Antarctica...

*** CHAPTER 1 ***

Private Hangar Rent-out ~ Richmond, Virginia. September 19th, 2000.

The two men rolled about the floor in desperate struggle until finally Krycek gained the upper hand, and kicked Mulder in the midriff aggressively, making the larger man fall back, gasping for air.

Krycek regained his feet slowly; he looked wary, at nerve's end. "Stay down," he Snapped, and Mulder had to admit himself temporarily defeated and in a position of serious disadvantage. Thoroughly winded and on the floor, he obeyed and observed.

Mulder's mind flashed back to how he had got here. Unauthorized entry in the warehouse depot every night for the last week and Skinner, having nothing better to offer, sent Mulder to stake out. When the trespasser appeared, it was Krycek. Mulder, instead of doing his job of patient observation, was seized for the umpteenth time by that pure and utter hate. He tackled his nemesis.

Now he lay helpless at his feet. Mulder's angry brown eyes flashed out a single message, "Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!"

"Agent Mulder. I thought we had evolved beyond this childish feud a long time ago?" Krycek knew his words sounded empty, he understood that all the pain and distress Mulder had managed to put behind himself had all flooded back after their temporary collaboration recently. He knew Mulder felt betrayed - one time too many perhaps. Krycek's involvement appeared like a game, he had used Mulder, grabbed the ship and got the hell out. In actual fact, reality was far more different than the FBI man's wildest dreams. Krycek too had been screwed around this time. By CSM.

"It was never settled," Mulder seethed, hating himself for being so reckless, but also for feeling so personally wounded; but for the last 7 years every time he thought of Alex Krycek it was like twisting a jagged knife in a newly healing gash. Of course he knew his pain wasn't rational but how could he ever forgive and forget a duplicity from a man he had really trusted... and really *liked*?

Krycek shrugged. "What can I say, Agent Mulder? Get over it. It *is* over." Mulder's jaw dropped; he was about to bound to his feet, when a large black boot placed itself squarely on his chest. The message was clear, 'don't even try'. He found himself staring up at a disturbingly chilly gaze.

"I trusted you, " he abruptly whispered. Krycek scowled darkly. "Let it go. Almost 7 years, Mulder! Wouldn't ever have triggered your acquaintance if I thought it could drag on into a psycho-drama!"

He moved back, assured that the man on the ground had given in for the time being. Both knew that Mulder's pain had been interiorised; that was why the man had never been able to put what went before behind him. Now emotions were in danger of all exploding out in a flood of regret and accusations.

"I fucking trusted you though!"

Krycek sighed almost sadly, but his face remained impassive. "Oh, stop it. You'll make me cry." He didn't bother point out that Mulder was quite obviously trusting him not to kill him right now. Then he hissed quickly, "You're not the only martyr on earth. You're not alone in betrayal, Agent Mulder." His teeth snapped together in sharp anger and he turned on his heels.

Mulder stayed on the floor and watched his enemy leave, knowing there was nothing he could do for the moment.

Slowly, Krycek's words worked their way to his brain. It took him a long while to accept the obvious. Krycek was in pain too, and it was the same pain as his own...

*** CHAPTER 2 ***

J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING, Washington DC March 6th, 2001.

Scully stared in blatant incredulity. "What?" she exclaimed over and over, but Mulder's eyes kept their boyish twinkle and he nodded eagerly. "Ice, Scully, ice!" She shook her head in astonishment. Surely Mulder had grown out of careering off and going AWOL at the slightest hint of extra-terrestrials? Apparently not.

He continued enthusiastically, "So much evidence in the ice! My contact says this metal is absolutely unclassifiable by our known elements and we both know what that means! It's a UFO, Scully, there's no doubt, we were so close in Oregon, I'm not letting it slip away again!"

Scully's mind rushed back to what she had seen on the Ivory Coast. She nodded her understanding, but expressed her reservations about the danger of such a mission. "Mulder, Antarctica isn't just a larger version of Alaska you know, and really, I'm *quite* sure the military will kill you if they find you snooping about anywhere again! You know they only rescued you last time because Sen. Matheson was aware of your exact location!"

Mulder sighed. Scully would never believe in that ship - Stupid bee! Then he smiled brightly again. "Scully, I haven't covertly entered any army bases this year yet!"

She frowned. "I'm serious. You have *n*o idea what is out there, and even admitting your source is correct, you don't know the first thing about surviving out there! Mulder's eyes turned heartbreakingly miserable, and she had to turn away. "Without me. I have a son to worry about. Be reasonable Mulder. I'd only be a encumbrance!"

Half-heartedly, he understood and clasped her hand, gaining the reward of an indulgent smile - Mulder would never change!

"Don't worry, I'll be back," he promised through fluttering eyelashes.

*** CHAPTER 3 ***

Wilkes Military Base, Virginia. March 7th, 2001.

Of course Mulder realised he couldn't just rush off to Antarctica like that. He would need the right equipment and more significantly, he would need someone who knew the grounds and that meant military, for only their people had access to these restricted zones.

Sergeant-Major Jerome Gallagher chuckled dryly, "Just like your father, Fox; always off on some mind-blowing universe saving venture. Won't tell a soul what you're up to though, you Mulders, eh?" Mulder bit back a smile and looked down. Gallagher was an retired military contact. A man with rank but little real influence, who had actually known his father by reputation only. He had helped Mulder many times before and was entirely trustworthy. He loved Mulder's unconventional investigations, even though his strict military principles tried to dissuade him from admiring such a man.

Mulder gave in and told him about the ship in the ice.

"That's some crazy mission you want to go on, boy! It ain't a playground out there and the whole iceberg is secured military zone. International of course, but even scientists and research teams have to wait years for their entry authorizations." Mulder nodded and explained that this was why he needed an Antarctica expert desperately or he wouldn't survive the day. He knew the Pentagon was angry enough with him already, and the UFO was in US territory. He had no idea how things worked out there.

Gallagher sighed, "Ain't easy, kid. Only crack commandos have access out there and that means top-classification. We're talking men that are untouchable. Absolutely. Recon-units and navy SEALs, no one else would..." he stopped contemplatively and Mulder noticed his eyes widen a little. He urged him on.

"There is... maybe a man."

Mulder raised an eyebrow. The old man's eyes narrowed as he tried to snatch at memories.

"He knows the grounds alright. But there's a slight problem."

"What?" Mulder interrupted full of impatient hope.

"Well. Officially, this man is dead."

*** CHAPTER 4 ***

Wilkes Military Base, Virginia. March 7th, 2001.

Mulder's mind was alert with curiosity. "Officially? What is his story?"

Gallagher laughed a little. "That's some good story, Agent Mulder - make yourself right at home here. He was a navy SEAL. They're the worst... or the best, depending on how you see it, we have. Indestructible killing machines. His unit was operational out on an Antarctica Ice station, sometime late 80s, early 90s. Permanent base manoeuvres and tactics neither you nor I know exist were their everyday life. God knows what they were really there for! Well, remember in 1992 the station that blew, killing 9 scientists?"

Mulder nodded as he vaguely remembered the headlines.

"It wasn't an accident. It started when those honest scientists declared a UFO find to the Pentagon."

Mulder's jaw dropped. This was his ground, no wonder the Pentagon was so paranoid about his snooping around icy plains. There were so many things to uncover!

"The SEALs were supposed to secure the station, hold the UFO. Only it seems that such discoveries are actually the original reason for their presence out there. Makes one wonder, he? Well, kid - this is all rumours now, but turns out those SEALs were not SEALs at all. Turns out they belonged to a top "top" secret 'search, secure and total destruction unit'... Something I would have sworn doesn't exist in my active days, but now - well so many conspiracies. I start to think rumours must be founded on something too... Anyways they are all SSTD. All but one. They arrive at the scene, eliminate some civilians -the scientists- this is confirmed as the one and only real SEAL radios in to announce the shocking news. He is trapped, realises his colleagues are plants, or a special quick intervention team or part of some horrible scheme. But he's cut off - either by his side or by the engineers of the future above. Who knows. From then on we must rely on rumours, because before you know it, a missile complex with nuclear head vaporized the entire site.

"So how did this guy get out?"

Gallagher shrugged. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't."

"Yet you seem sure he's alive."

"Son, at my age you acquire a sixth sense for such things. A few of the SEALs came home after the blast, triumphant. In the official classified report their colleague was left for dead. Evidence destroyed. Hell the guy must have been in some fucking state, God knows how he cleared the area in time, but he must have."

"So why are you so sure he did?" Mulder insisted.

Gallagher waved a dismissive hand and shook his head.

"SEALs have been tracked. Marines too. Officially terrorists and whatever but, no. I know Agent Mulder - anger, revenge. All justified if one is to believe the rumours. Helluva guy. Pursues the SSTD plants in all units and eliminates them. Exposes scandal and cover-up from the Pentagon. He's around, son. I know it's him and the department feels it too, through they won't admit it openly of course."

Mulder drew a deep breath - his mind was going haywire. Il all sounded like internal myth to him, but Gallagher was no lowly gossiper, he was a Sergeant-Major, the highest non-commissioned officer. Rank meant responsibility, and even a retired man wouldn't blurt out words of such heavy significance at random.

He needed this man. A man betrayed by the very people he'd sworn allegiance to. A man who had had close contacts with a UFO and above all, a man who had spent 4 years of his life in Antarctica. It made Mulder wishful. He *needed* this man! He said so aloud.

Gallagher sighed. "I can show you his official file, but if he was easy to find, it would have been done by now. Maybe it has." He pulled a laptop over and started typing - before long a blue page with white font appeared on the screen. Mulder read carefully.

No photo, no name - standard navy SEAL file - description of expertise... killing machines... indestructible. Mulder's eyebrow raised as he progressed. Suddenly he choked.

Codename: 'Ratboy'.

He leant back, heart pounding against his chest. Betrayed by his entire team...

"Oh my God," he whispered hoarsely.

*** CHAPTER 5 ***

On the Alexandra highroad - in Mulder's car March 7th, 2001

In the car, Krycek's words of half a year earlier came back and echoed around Mulder's mind clearly.

"You're not alone in betrayal..." That ice cold expression... Ratboy. No. Krycek couldn't be a navy SEAL - he had never won a fight! You've never ever *seen* him fight.He... never missed a shot, let himself be pushed around and was still alive after events that were pretty much un-survivable. He was a Russian spy godammit! So he has good intercontinental contacts, an errand boy of the Consortium which was linked with the Pentagon and whose members were now all dead. A rookie FBI agent gone wrong who from the start believed a helluva lot more than he should have...

Mulder's mind went into overdrive with all these conflicting thoughts and he was sure of only one thing - he *had* to find Krycek. He *had* to find out what happened to a 24 year old Navy SEAL, the elite of the US marines, after his colleagues left him for dead next to an alien vessel in 1992 at the mercy of a nuke.

Mulder hit the accelerator and speeded toward the J. Edgar Hoover Building. His expectations lay in Internet coverage by paranoid nerds: the enigmatic 'Ratboy', KIA, was bound to have been granted officious attention on-line.

*** CHAPTER 6 ***

J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington D.C. March 8th, 2001

Agent Scully arrived at the office to find her partner sleeping with his head in his arms on the keyboard. Next to him lay a piece of paper with 'Adrian Mall' and a hastily scribbled Richmond phone number.

After various searches had pointed to the name 'Adrian Mall', always a background character or contact listed on a homepage, Mulder had decided to wake Langly. His efforts were rewarded as the Gunman nearly hit the roof with excitement when Mulder mentioned Mall He explained the man had written for their newsletter occasionally, always focusing on conspiracy theories involving UFOs and plants in crack units - "government denies knowledge" stuff. Of course none of the Lone Gunmen had ever seen Mall, and in fact they hadn't heard from him for about three years, but this only served to reinforce Mulder's belief that Mall was indeed Alex Krycek. And Krycek - he could find.

Richmond, Virginia March 8th, 2001

Mulder stood in front of the block the FBI database had associated with the unlisted phone number. A deep breath later, he knocked at number 37. Almost at once the door sprang open, and Mulder stepped in cautiously, his gun drawn.

"I don't fucking believe it!" The husky groan behind him made Mulder start, he swung around to face Krycek. Silenced gun ready - the aim was at the floor and the killer was shaking his head. "How, why and what, Agent Mulder?"

"I need your help," the agent announced simply. Krycek laughed out loud. "I just don't believe you, Mulder! You're gonna be the end of me. Help? Sit down and talk." He clicked the security off his gun and motioned towards the living room. Mulder did as he was told and stared at his own hands intently, his own weapon was holstered again.

"There's a UFO. I have to see it. I need photos. I want to go inside." He thought he saw Krycek flinch. Probably not.

"Why do you need my help? You're not unknown for your UFO hunting skills. I know you've been inside one or two before."

"I need irrefutable evidence. You said it - exposure!"

Krycek sighed deeply. "I've heard that before too. Why come to me now? When you know I'll snatch the ship behind your back?" His voice dripped with cynicism and it was Mulder's turn to flinch.

"Because I won't make it alone, but I need to seize this chance! Who else can I trust?"

"Very funny Agent Mulder. Tell me more about this ship." Krycek's voice remained cold, his face impassable, he didn't know what Mulder was playing at. But he wasn't impressed.

"It's half hidden in the ice. My contact said it's visible in an ice cave. Almost at the surface." He paused, noticing Krycek stiffen.

"I can't help you, Mulder," the killer snapped a little *too* quickly. Mulder's brown eyes tried to find a small trace of emotion in the ivory face, but there was none.

"Please?" he pleaded with a beaten puppy dog look "I know I can't do it alone. Come on, it's your quest too, Krycek!" His once-partner shook his head firmly. "It's not a game, Mulder."

"But we're after the same thing!"

"No, we're not. I can't help you." Mulder looked downcast. He was still wringing his fingers and could tell Krycek was getting impatient. "It's now or never. Antarctica, Krycek!"

The green eyes hardened as realisation sank in. "Oh, you son of a bitch!" Krycek bounded to his feet and for a moment Mulder thought he was going to punch him, but the killer turned the other way, clenching his fists tightly. "You've some guts!" he hissed. "You go near a UFO in secured military territory and they will exterminate you." - "Who are they?" Krycek gave him a dark frown. "Don't be childish, Agent Mulder. Forget it. Get out." Mulder stood up to leave and made his way to the door listlessly.

As his hand touched the knob, Krycek spoke out. "The temperature is -30°C. That means thermo-survival equipment. Once you're presence is signalled by the radar, you have about an hour to evacuate before they come to secure. That means 12 Navy SEALs out to kill you and eradicate all evidence of your existence. One hour maximum. That gives us about 40 minutes in and out. They use LCACs1 out there so we'll need a helicopter. Even so, they'll give chase, maybe shoot us down from sea, maybe just track us and wipe us out with a cruise missile." He stopped breathlessly and stared at Mulder almost defiantly. "So. When do we leave?"

Mulder's stomach lurched. "You'll do it?" he blurted out in amazement. Krycek sighed again. "You wouldn't even have time to locate the ship before they slaughter you off. Can't let you run out there shooting like a cowboy." His eyes trailed off into distant memories. "Even so, I'd say it's a 80/20% chance we never get back. Is it worth it?" Mulder nodded and whispered, "thanks". Krycek let his lips curl slightly. "Now or never, right?"

Silently, Mulder agreed, he still had one fundamental question to ask Krycek, but knew he should

wait until he was forgiven for being so childish and dangerously stubborn.

"Ratboy..." he murmured inaudibly.

*** CHAPTER 7 ***

US Territory Antarctica March 18th, 2001

They sat in silence, knowing that to attempt conversation over the whirring rotors of the helicopter was futile.

Krycek had spent the last 10 days bringing together the mission - he had not had any contact with Mulder save one day previously to tell him they were leaving. They had flown to Cape Horn and from there, a Russian military vessel had taken them out to sea. The helicopter was waiting on another ship. Now, they were heading to Mulder's coordinates in a tense atmosphere.

Several hours later, Mulder started pointing animatedly. Krycek kept his frozen look, four years of his life had been sacrificed to these icy plains, and then... He closed his eyes for a second, his head pushed back against the seat, drawing in deep breaths, shutting out unwanted memories.

"What do you expect from all this?" he suddenly shouted out. Mulder sighed, keeping his eyes fixed on the tiny black dot on the ice in the distance. "Alaska. The Arctic. Always ice. I've seen so many now, but I need this proof, Krycek. Maybe I can finally finish it." Krycek was about to respond when Mulder asked, "How did you get out of the station before the nuke hit?" Pale faced, Alex concentrated on the ice for a while then he looked at Mulder;

"You've heard quite a lot, Agent Mulder. Then you will have been told that the UFO was nuked. True. But it didn't even suffer a scratch. I was dead. As good as." He fixed Mulder's eyes sternly, a look of open honesty visible for once. "I managed to kill 6 Navy SEALs, Mulder." It wasn't a boast, it was a fact. "6 men and women with whom I had all but grown up, with whom I lived. You can rest assured the 5 remaining ones weren't happy. I was dead."

He put up a hand as Mulder was about to interrupt and the older man shut up. "The ship... I... I thought the missile had hit its target, but I found myself inside the UFO. I know you've been in one - same model - in Alaska. Well, the morph, 'Jeremiah Smith', shape-shifter, whatever they like to be called, put his hands on me and!" He needed say no more, the irretrievably mangled body had been entirely regenerated.

"Not a scar," Krycek completed in tones as low as the rotors would allow...

Krycek tensed. "Mulder. That ship is half out of the ice. There's no way the US base won't have it on their screens." Mulder just overlooked the thought and ran across the small stretch of glacier to

the craft. They had only just landed and he wasn't going to let Krycek spoil his fun. He touched the frost-coated metal and shivered a little in exhilaration. His camera was clenched in a black gloved hand.

Carefully, Krycek jumped from the chopper and joined the X-Files man. His heart was pounding hard, but he stayed cool, too experienced to let any form of emotion get the better of him.

"Mulder, I'm deadly serious! If I didn't know you well enough to believe you security check all your sources, I'd..."

The helicopter exploded, in a large flash of white light, fireballs and scrap metal showering the area. Both men were propelled to the ground violently and Krycek cursed. "You fucking moron, Mulder! You drag me out here into a trap!" He drew a palm-pilot from a pocket and turned furiously burning eyes to his companion. "Two LCACs... Less than 40 minutes from here. That's probably two thirds of a full unit, 9 trained killers and... Cykinsin!" He kicked a charcoaled rotor piece with another Russian expletive. Mulder winced, aware of his own idiocy, but

even so - he had thought... he... something was wrong - why would the Pentagon lure him out here when it would be so easy to eliminate him in DC?

Because it wasn't him they were after.

"Oh my God," he whispered gutturally. "They're after *you*," he turned eyes of guilt to his best enemy as it finally clicked in his mind. "Oh my God, Gallagher..." he hissed realising all of a sudden

how easily he had been manipulated, and where exactly the veteran 's loyalties really lay.

"Krycek I'm so sorry, I didn't think... I"

Krycek drew himself to full height. "We have to try and get into that... whatever it is. And we give them our best performance," he snapped bleakly and turned off to inspect the metal creation.

*** CHAPTER 8 ***

US Territory, Antarctica March 18th, 2001

It was man-made. American made. A sort of vessel that had clearly been encased with great power into the ice. Despite the dread of the approaching SEALs, Mulder felt disappointment weigh heavily on him. Not only was he going to die, but he wouldn't get a roll of UFO photos first either. He observed dismally, crestfallen, as Krycek worked his way around the craft. The doors were bolted shut and time was running out.

"Stand clear" Krycek muttered, not caring if a piece of shrapnel might perchance hit Mulder or not, in fact the statistical chances of it seemed rather too low right now. Moving back a little, he pressed the detonator and let the cc wrench the metal and create a jagged opening. Shooting Mulder a look of pure venom, he climbed in.

After a hasty look around, Krycek summed up the state of affairs. "There are six rooms, obviously an old control deck of some type, and living quarters. Two disconnected corridors connect everything." Mulder listened, not understanding the implications.

"That means we're cornered. Completely and utterly fucked." Krycek chose the control deck as home base, mainly because he saw various appliances on the panel could be of use as explosive devices and as cover. He emptied his pockets, and viewed the Desert Eagle and the three grenades morosely. "Everything was in the chopper." Mulder just stared uncomprehendingly. "We gonna fight them?" - "Do you have any better suggestions?" Mulder's shoulders sagged. "How long till they're here?" Krycek checked his watch, grim-faced. "Well. Put it this way, we don't have time to elaborate a plan, so - " The blades of a hovercraft made itself heard outside. Krycek talked a little faster, " - when you see anything move, shoot blindly. No fancy tricks - aim for the head, the rest of them is Kevlar plated. Aim to kill, Agent Mulder. You won't get a second chance." Giving the visibly panicked agent a last fleeting look he ran out, ignoring Mulder's call of "Hey, Krycek, where are you going?"

Mulder was alone in a strange vessel, waiting for almost certain death when an unexpected explosion resounded from outside. He heard shouts , and burning, and saw Alex run past the control deck door, along the corridor. But he stayed still, Desert Eagle poised and aimed at the door. He felt his hand shaking badly - no way he'd succeed a straight shot like this.

Moments later, a deceptive silence befell the room. Two men entered the vessel watchfully. One was talking into his headset. "2 men down, Sir. Bastard used a grenade, type III. Yes Sir." He glanced at his colleague who had a red smear along his cheek where a burning piece of hovercraft had skimmed his face. He pointed at the corridor and nodded towards the door of the control room.

Mulder tried to control his breathing and waited for one of the men to enter. "Ok, starting exploration of Small Venus 2," the marine announced into his headset and put a foot in the room.

Mulder pulled the trigger and started the carnage.

The Navy SEAL's head exploded in a flower of crimson red, splattering the walls, floor and ceiling alike. The second SEAL jumped back in tactical retreat, but Mulder didn't hold his fire. In sheer terror he kept his hand up, and a finger down until, minutes later, the last of the bullets ricocheted off the metal walls of "Small Venus". Silence. Absolute, deadly silence. Mulder cringed back in fear and waited for the inevitable. But the SEALs weren't to know he had no ammunition.

A shuffle behind him made Mulder's heart rate leap up to a dangerous level, but Krycek put a finger on his lips and gave Mulder a meaningful glance. Stealthily he moved towards the door, staying well out of sight to any potential enemy outside. Just as mutely, he pulled a red object from his pocket, pulled the pin with his teeth, and let it rolled out into the corridor. Then he moved with the speed and agility of a panther, leaping over the panel to where Mulder was, and pushing them both to the ground, uttering "fragmentation" a split second before a cry of horror, followed by an almost deafening explosion, and a thousand zinging noises of jagged metal darting through air could be heard. Krycek raised his eyes to see silver flash by overhead and embed itself in the wall. He knew what the man outside must look like now, but didn't want to see again the butchered flesh that still sometimes haunted his nights.

He pulled Mulder up. "You ok?" The agent was shaken and felt weak, but unharmed. "Did we just kill two Navy SEALs?" he asked feebly. Krycek took the Desert Eagle from him and snapped in a new charge. The adrenalin was moving now. "Two in here. Two in the LCAC... Five on their way. Congratulations, Agent Mulder," he said, shooting a glance at the human remains on the floor. The stench of brutal death was sickening, but he knew he had to set the example of strength.

"It's a space station," Mulder murmured.

"What?"

"This here - "Small Venus 2", an American space station. They brought it down earlier this year."

Krycek nodded briefly, eyes and ears alert only for the sound of reinforcements. "They won't fall for us twice. The five of them will burst into here from all fronts." He tried to wipe the helpless look from his face, not wanting to make Mulder lose hope and courage. "If, and I don't see how, but *if* we survive this, Agent Mulder, I think I will finally have to kill you myself." He sounded serious and Mulder looked down, focussing on a spot of blood. Perfectly round and domed, it glanced at him like an angry eye.

He looked back to Krycek anxiously and dared mumble the word "plan" in a very subdued tone. Krycek looked up from his very last grenade, which he had been turning around and around in his clasp, attentively.

*** CHAPTER 9 ***

"Small Venus 2", US Territory, Antarctica March 18th, 2001.

Rock's expression was true to his name as he directed his LCAC towards "Small Venus 2". The Rat had done it again. Slain four of the United States elite. With the help of a civilian! He shook his head in silent anger. Well, five more were coming and these ones wouldn't walk into some petty trap. He had no idea how Ratboy had survived but his lips twisted into a cruel smile as he thought of the mangled body, the wrecked face. Ratboy would be a hideous creation of grafted skin, thick scars and stapled bones, nothing short of Frankenstein's monster.

Rock watched "Small Venus" grow larger and came to a standstill half a mile clear of the site. Assuming Ratboy wouldn't use the same tactic twice would be taking a very real and very gratuitous risk. He barked orders at his unit and they all swarmed out into the twilight of white shimmers.

Krycek held the remains of the dead marine's headset to his ear. He recognized Rock's voice instantaneously and felt every muscle in his body contract.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered. Mulder looked up sharply. "What?" The FBI man had calmed himself and was fully operational. Krycek gave him a withering look of contempt. "The CO who wants to mow us down is non other than Reggie McDonald. An old acquaintance." His look said it all. "Plan cancelled." - "What?" - "New plan," he hissed and ran his fingers down another old acquaintance, a Walther P38. Mulder still held the Eagle in one hand and his service Sig Sauer in the other. He made a worried face. "You can't let anger and personal revenge get in the way of the efficiency of our defence!" he urged and was surprised to see Krycek's eyes flare up. Then the man smiled darkly. "It's never bothered *you* before, Mulder!" Mulder closed his eyes - how to explain he had always the strange gut-feeling that Krycek would not kill him. It wasn't the same! He didn't push the point any further. "So what do we do?" Krycek looked at the red dots on his palm pilot. They were under siege.

"We pick them off as they come in, and... fuck, no plan. Just leave Rock to me. Just kill them. There are probably three more on the way, and well, we're stuck here either way. I'd say this is as close to death as life gets." He spoke in a snatched tone, and Mulder could tell he was angry... and anxious.

"You can't afford rage, Krycek," he whispered. Krycek bit his own tongue hard enough to make it bleed. He turned sincere eyes to his former partner.

"We'll give them all we've got," he promised before smiling just a little. "But only so I can get you back for this later." Mulder felt again a dreadful wave of regret. He had fallen into the most basic trap possible! He! Paranoid Spooky! "Well that's gotta be worth living for," he said flatly.

Rock stood aside as his men checked for explosives along the shell of "Small Venus". His mind wandered a little, relishing the fact he was finally going to end this. He couldn't remember when he had started hating Ratboy. In high school. But he had always feigned friendship. Then came the marines. He, Rock, had been promoted, but still Alex kept the good looks, the calm efficiency. He knew he was being left behind, but it seemed he had other things on his mind - always star gazing. It infuriated Rock, when he had been recruited by the SSTD team, and Ratboy hadn't, he knew the day would come when his hate for the bright young man would officially be allowed to externalise.

"Sir!" It was Kanna, nick-named after Kanna Beach where he grew up. This unit was not entirely SSTD, but that was irrelevant as Ratboy and his civilian were terrorists and there was no need for cover-ups or secrecy. Simple elimination - like a SEAL was trained to do. "What?" he snapped. Kanna swallowed timidly. "No explosives, Sir. Wolf has set charges near the control

room and the central motor room. We're prepared to enter by force."

Rock nodded curtly.

Inside the vessel, Krycek and Mulder overheard everything. What motor room? A sudden fear hit Krycek that they had overlooked access to other decks, but Mulder assured him this was impossible. They decided to wait till the control room wall blew and straight away take offensive against anyone outside.

Mulder had started trembling again, but Krycek had gone into another mode. Calculation and action.

"There'll be two men here. So we can't waste the last frag grenade. We'll mow them down before the smoke's even cleared. That'll leave three. Unless we can retrieve some artillery." The weapon of the first arrived SEALs had been decorated in silver metal when the grenade went off.

The risk of grave dysfunction was too great to chance using them.

"It's likely some will enter at the same time from behind. I want you to take care of that Agent Mulder." He stared into the man's eyes and for a moment his own seemed to soften. He nodded and suddenly clapped Mulder's shoulder. "Don't let me down, partner."

Mulder's throat was dry and he bit his lips like a child. He wanted to say he would try his best, but feared his best might not be good enough. Instead he nodded and turned to the door.

They waited.

*** CHAPTER 10 ***

"Small Venus 2", US Territory, Antarctica March 18th, 2001

Metal wrenched deafeningly and the entire room floated with thick clouds of smoke. "Lie down!" Alex managed to yell as he dived for the clearer air himself. His P38 was raised. "Stay down," he ordered, expecting the SEALs to enter with open gunfire. He was not disappointed. Where their torsos had been only moments before, a sea of bullets sprayed the room through the smoke. Krycek squinted, waiting for a shape to aim at not wanting to waste bullets, but knowing that as soon as he could see them, they could see him. Seconds seemed like an eternity and all of a sudden it was time: a faint figure appeared at the newly ripped out section of wall. Krycek aimed well and shot. The man went down, a neat bullet in his head and at the same time Mulder opened fire on the other front. Krycek cursed silently, unable to pick out another marine. He

crawled to Mulder's position. "We have to make for the second corridor... Where I sneaked up on you before!" He heard a strangled cry as one of the desert eagle bullets found a target, and quickly dragged Mulder behind him to cover.

Panting, he slammed the door and jumped to his feet. "All ok?" Mulder nodded through gasps. "I think I hit someone." - "Good," Krycek snapped then he looked thoughtful. "Still have the headset?" Mulder did, but he had fallen on it after the explosion.

"Sorry," he offered but Krycek just looked around them. "There's no hope they won't try to chase us into an ambush," he sighed training his gun at the door. They listened to shouts and orders beyond it, but no footsteps approached the metal door - obviously nobody felt like being coldly shot down just yet. "One and a half down," Krycek whispered, more to himself than Mulder.

Rock stared in acute disgust at the marine writhing on the floor, blood spurting from his throat.

He swore out loud. "Find the bastards!" he seethed... "Alive," he unpredictably added to the great surprise of his team.

In the second corridor, Krycek shattered his damaged palm pilot against the wall. "Great. Now we're really in the dark," he said with a sense of finality that made Mulder shudder. Krycek took a deep breath and exhaled, creating a fine cloud of white mist. "Ok we are going to track them. There's no point in sitting here waiting for them to sling us up. We're going to sneak up on the guard. I'm certain there's one at our main point of entry. Watching the hovercraft. It's routine." Mulder followed him readily. They trod up with care, avoiding the rooms and slinking along the corridor, alert and poised. Complete silence engulfed the vessel and the whereabouts of the SEALs could only be guessed at with Krycek's knowledge of their strategy. One watching the LCAC, two searching the fallen space station. Maybe three, but his cry had sounded like that of a man who wasn't going to be getting up again in a hurry. One of the remaining two was Rock.

Krycek left Mulder inside the vessel as he climbed out. Kanna saw him immediately, but didn't have time to react before a bowie knife sliced its way through his forehead, stopping only when its hilt struck bone. Kanna's eyes were wide in shock as he pitched towards onto the snow, a dark puddle of red tainting the pure white. Krycek quickly took his headset and sniper gun. A simple green grenade was the only other thing of use Kanna had had on him.

Mulder sagged with relief when he saw Krycek come back in. He couldn't help a genuine smile that made Krycek remember how furious he was at the man and throw him another cold glare. Mulder didn't care, he followed the ex-SEAL back the way they had come - always paying vigilant attention to the slightest hint of the killers.

Krycek handed him the green grenade. "You have to be about 5 meters away when it goes off. For mine on the other hand - you have to be in total cover. Use only if you're sure to kill." His words were clear and fast. Orders like the rattle of a machine gun. Mulder nodded a little and holstered his sig before gingerly pocketing the bomb. He observed Krycek's eyes flit around nervously. No voices had came through headset - very suspicious...

What happened next went too fast for Mulder's eyes to follow; a bellow and suddenly Krycek was on the floor, a large black man towering over him. "Wolf." Krycek said simply and the man gave a feral grin, barely paying attention to a tetanised Mulder.

"Rock wants you alive, Ratboy," Wolf sneered with a certain glee. Krycek grimaced and let his finger move towards his gun. A violent kick stopped the motion. It was up to Mulder. Krycek knew the FBI man needed to be jolted into action, but couldn't give him any hints without being noticed. Already Wolf had informed the headset of their whereabouts.

Rock was coming.

Mulder was standing, one wrist locked to a pole. He looked, and was, helpless. Condemned to watch Rock enter and bee-line for Krycek's figure, on the floor, half propped upon one elbow.

Rock stared at Krycek and his blood ran cold. He had expected a vengeful monster and found a desperate, but perfectly beautiful young man. The man Ratboy would have... "How did you do it!" he asked roughly. Krycek raised an eyebrow in question. Rock touched his own cheek. "So you survived, but you should have been marred, disfigured, an invalid!" The tone was tinged with resent and Mulder wondered what was going on.

"I got lucky," Krycek said then let out a grunt as a steel copped shoe all but lifted him off the floor in a violent kick. Rock looked down. "You should have died years ago. You've eliminated my unit a-fucking-GAIN!" he screeched and Mulder squeezed his eyes shut as a blow of sickening force descended upon the powerless man. Wolf kept his feral grin smugly.

"Yeah, and it was pretty easy too," Krycek said, spitting blood. He rolled aside to dodge a second blow and bounded to his feet in defensive crouch position.

Mulder let his free hand glide into his pocket where the grenade was. Obviously trained combatants wouldn't dream of putting a lethal weapon into a *pocket*. They had removed Krycek's fragmentation grenade from its special pouch in his jacket. Mulder had the same jacket on, but no idea what went where. One-handed and holding his breath, he pulled the ring and held down the bar. His heart was thumping against his ribcage so painfully, he thought it was going to break out any moment.

Crunch. Ratboy refused to scream out as Rock battered him relentlessly, denying him that pleasure. And it infuriated Rock, made his violence all the more personal and raw. Mulder couldn't watch, knowing he would be frozen and of no use again if he ventured a peek. The sound effects were bad enough.

Krycek gritted his teeth. In truth, he was amazed Mulder and himself had got so far, but such luck can never last. He winced as he saw the huge boot moving once again for his head. There was no escape and his green eyes glazed over in disbelieving instinctive defence.

"Hey!" Mulder's voice sounded out strong. Rock stopped in his tracks. "Shut up. You're dead too," he snapped, not even looking at the FBI agent. Mulder drew back as the voice hit him, but didn't lose composure. He held up the grenade. "This room is too small for a grenade like this to go off, but..." There was no hesitation. "I thought he was a civilian?" Wolf demanded. Krycek answered. "You thought wrong." He leapt up in the second's distraction and dived behind Mulder, flinging the grenade at Rock and in the same move, dragging his associate to the ground forcefully. The unforgiving lash of the detonation swept over them, creating fire designs in the cold air. Krycek stood and picked a gun from the floor. He walked into the smoke. "No chances," he promised himself and checked the two SEALs. The gun was not needed. Even if there had been enough recognisable remains, the men could only have been dead. Blocking his nose to the burning flesh, Krycek delivered Mulder with a perfect shot through the handcuff chain.

"I'm sorry, I'm a moron," he said sullenly and was astounded to hear Krycek laugh out. "Agent Mulder - although I think we should grant you the codename Fox now - it was now or never. You are a moron sometimes, and maybe I *will* kill you anyway, but - " he extended a hand. Mulder stared at it before grasping it with his own. "Ok, Ratboy. Please let's get away from here!" His face was drawn into a pained grimace at the smells and sights inside "Small Venus 2". Krycek didn't waste time and moved for the exit.

"It's always dark here?" Mulder wanted to know as they made their way away from the flames and smoke towards the LCAC Rock had left on the ice. Krycek shrugged. "Six months a year." Mulder whistled "It wasn't a UFO," he said dejectedly. Krycek smiled indulgently. "Not this time. Now tell me, how did you get to me about all this?" - "Gallagher. I guess it was a trap from the start. The fake leak about a UFO, then the set up to make me find you." This interested Krycek. "Hey, that means they know you're good if they were so sure of you finding me!" He added that Gallagher was a retired SSTD officer. Mulder shook his head sadly, but stayed mute until they climbed into the hovercraft.

Soon they were moving at 80 mph. "Where we going?"

Krycek smiled. "Out of US Territory. To the Russians. Trust me, they'll blow the American Ice Station to hell and back when I tell them what happened."

The trip passed unhindered and lasted two hours. Although suspicious, the Russians let them in and allowed Krycek to contact Moscow. They listened in incredulity to the story, seeming more shocked by the fact that the SEALs had wanted to kill fellow citizens, especially a civilian, than by other details

of the fight. Moscow promised an army helicopter and for the first time in 36 hours, Mulder felt his eyes sinking as he lay back in a Russian armchair. Krycek seemed to stay awake, organising food and then talking to the scientists about recent discoveries.

"Mulder...?" The voice was so gentle that Mulder didn't recognise it until he opened tired eyes.

Krycek! "Time to go?" he hoped, but Krycek gave him an enigmatic smile. "Soon. I think you should see something first."

He led the way down a catwalk and into a dark room. The walls were of ice and sticking out of one of them was a big black fin. Mulder gasped.

"My understanding with the Russians, although helped by my origins, comes from the fact that after the nuke hit and I was in the ship, it moved *through* the ice. It brought me here and it was a sort of gift - theirs to study in exchange for my safety." Mulder gasped. "But why?" A bright light filled the room and the FBI man jumped back. "It's opening!" he shouted but he remained immobile. "Agent Mulder." A familiar stern voice said in a slightly reprimanding tone, and Mulder's jaw dropped. Jeremiah Smith! Mulder fell to his knees.

"Thank you!" he whispered through tears and Krycek and Jeremiah Smith exchanged a look of understanding. Jeremiah Smith stepped into the room. "No, thank *you*" he said, softly placing his hands on the agent's shoulders. Pure bliss flooded through him. "But... but what about the black oil?" Another tolerant smile from Krycek. "Unconnected I assure you. But you've always known really. The Oilien and the 'little green men'. Different concepts." Mulder remembered Deep Throat in the racing track and tears fell freely. "You live in the ice?" Jeremiah looked into his eyes and again joy flooded his every cell. "You saw what happens to us up there." Mulder nodded and awkwardly stumbled to his feet.

"So our quest wasn't the same," he agreed with Krycek who laughed. "No. I had my proof, you had your beliefs. Our fight against the colonisation is the same, but... that's another story altogether."

Mulder stood, albeit a little shakily, and watched Jeremiah move back to his ship. Moved through the ice. Remember what happened up there... Fresh tears started to show as he saw again the disaster caused by Jeremiah Smith's public appearance on Earth. He looked at Krycek and wanted to say something, but it stuck in his throat. Jeremiah turned around with a last heart warming look. "Accept his proposition, Alex," he said in a golden voice leaving the young man bewildered.

"We should go now. What did he mean?" Mulder flushed. "... well you said yours and mine... our quests against the colonisation are the same and I was thinking maybe..." he trailed off feebly.

Krycek understood. "Will you trust me?" he asked firmly.

Mulder hesitated only an instant before whispering sincerely, "I think I already do."

They heard the helicopter overhead - it was starting its vertical descent and both men automatically looked up at the ceiling as though they might see the craft of their escape from this ice-hell. They glanced at each other and emerald green eyes locked with golden flecks. Suddenly Krycek's entire face lit up in a generous and most dazzlingly beautiful smile, catching Mulder completely off guard.

"Then I think its a very good plan... partner!"

*** EPILOGUE ***

The Washington Post March 20th, 2001.

"Disaster strikes Antarctica!"

"9 Navy SEALs reported missing after an explosion during a routine space-station recuperation operation. Causes of the blast are under investigation."

"3 further SEALs from the same unit met their death after losing control of their hovercraft which left the plate and hit the ocean 300ft below. Causes of the accident are being investigated."

Department of Defence Classified Document
Telex from US St James Antarctica Military Base
From Admiral J. Freeman to Jonathan Culling.
- Ratboy escaped - body count 9 (names included)
- LCAC rammed from cliff - suspect of Russian offensive acting under orders of Ratboy. Body count 3 (names included). No retaliation possible. (diplomatic + evidence issues mentioned)
"Small Venus 2" destroyed by eraser type BM-004321 (ordinary ballistic missile) at 0200 hours March 19th 2001.

Operation Ratboy aborted.

Over and Out.

Once again, the cold silence reigned over the South Pole, but in Mulder's heart there was light and in Krycek's soul there was trust...

Appendix: LCAC = Land Craft Air Cushioned. It's the only land vehicle of much use on ice continent.

... no foxes or rats were (seriously) hurt during the production of this piece. :-)