Season Six:
Episode 21

FBI Headquarters
Washington D.C.
8:57 pm

Assistant Director Walter Skinner was striding down a quiet hallway. It was late and there weren't many people about. Skinner usually didn't end his work day at this hour, but going home hadn't even occurred to him today. He was restless, concerned about Agent Scully's continued safety and the rather odd abduction attempt.

Why send ten to twelve men to take three, if you're going to make use of only one entrance? A full frontal assault through an apartment door is relatively straightforward to defend with two and sufficient ammunition. With three and some ammunition limits, it had still been easy and made even simpler by the goal of taking, rather than taking out Agent Scully. Only some extremely bad luck on the part of those ensconced in Agent Scully's apartment would've allowed the operation, as run, to be successful. Skinner didn't like things he couldn't understand and neither did Alex Krycek, as was apparent to Skinner when he'd spoken with the younger man about what had happened. That shared uncertainty was a large part of the reason that Skinner had tolerated Krycek's assumption of the responsibility for Scully's protection. Unless Skinner misread the situation, he believed the strangeness of the situation and Krycek's obvious confidence in his security arrangements convinced Mulder.

Krycek's confidence had seemed well placed, when Scully had called that morning, reporting safe and sound at 9:00 am sharp. She had also informed Mulder that she and Krycek were acting on the information that the two men had exchanged the night before, which had been augmented by an additional tidbit that Krycek had obtained that morning during a meeting of some sort. With whom, Scully hadn't said. Despite himself, Skinner wondered if she really didn't know. He didn't want to trust his instincts and accept the feeling that she was keeping things from him and Mulder in favor of, and perhaps to protect Krycek.

Dana had also issued a warning to both he and Mulder. Skinner didn't have a problem with her admonition to "Be careful." Mulder had seemed merely to be amused by it. However, Skinner was surprised by the level of anxiety that Scully's independent course of action seemed to engender in Diana Fowley. Asserting that he was playing fast and loose with Scully's safety, Fowley had challenged Skinner's tacit acceptance of Scully's actions. Skinner had calmly pointed out that he had little choice in the matter, yet Fowley's anxiety level had remained high. The Assistant Director found Fowley's behavior odd. He'd been under the impression that the two women didn't like each other very much.

His ruminations were interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. Skinner glanced at the display. It was an internal call from the Director's office. This late? Frowning in puzzlement, Skinner picked up the hand set. "Skinner."

"Good evening, Mr. Skinner."

The voice was unmistakable. Cancerman. He was in the building, again. Silently, Skinner amended that he was not only in the building, but in the largest, most well appointed office there.

"Might I have a word with you?" the Smoker inquired politely.

As soon as Skinner mentally decided "might as well," he recalled Agent Scully's warning. Cancerman in such close proximity was certainly cause for concern ... and a measure of caution. "What's on your mind?" Skinner inquired lightly, with a calm he didn't actually feel. His free hand occupied itself removing his service weapon from its holster.

"Only this, Mr. Skinner. It's time to offer full support to your favorite pair of agents. Any hesitation on your part could have ... unfortunate consequences. Ones that would clearly trouble your conscience."

The click signaling the termination of the call seemed inordinately loud. Walter Skinner listened to the dial tone for a few moments before slowly returning the hand set to its cradle.

Dana Scully opened the passenger's side door of the non-descript rented sedan that she and Alex Krycek had picked up at the Buffalo airport. She stepped out of the car in the visitor's parking lot of the Wiggan Sanitarium, admiring the well cut black suit and wild pattern colorful tie worn by her companion and wondering about the file folder in his hand. The view was good enough to make her forget her lingering headache for the moment. She'd slept a lot in the last twenty four hours, but it wasn't quite enough for the vestiges of her mild head trauma to completely dissipate. Sighing, Scully arched her eyebrow at Krycek's after you gesture.

"You're the doctor Dana," he pointed out in his most reasonable tone.

"This is your show Alex," she countered. "I'm just along for the ride ... and to provide blood hound services."

As she intended, her light tone inspired a smile.

"If Mulder's right, you'll provide a whole lot more than that." Krycek purposefully avoided meeting Scully's gaze following his enigmatic statement, concentrating on navigating the set of glass double doors and preoccupied with considering how Mulder had described these clones. Protective of their "mothers," he'd said. Scully was one of the women whose ova had been used to produce them. Based on some things he'd seen, Krycek was almost certain that her "relationship" to these clones was particularly close. Since he wasn't completely sure, he'd kept his own counsel about who their goal. It'd seemed like a good idea at the time, but Scully's intense scrutiny and accompanying frown suggested that reconsideration was in order. But there was no time, another case of too little too late. Alex Krycek wondered whether he was trying his luck.

When they approached the reception desk, Krycek's thoughts turned toward the conversation he'd had with Cigarette Smoking Man a little over twenty four hours ago. He'd surprised the older man by casually inquiring as to the location of the Kurt Crawford clones. His persistence had overcome Cigarette Smoking Man's reticence, yet the information had come with a warning. Changes were afoot, already set in motion by Cigarette Smoking Man and difficulties might be encountered by visiting the facility at this time. Even though Alex thought their timing was such that untoward complications would be avoided, he'd passed that warning onto Scully so they'd both be sharp. Scully's voice brought Krycek back to the present, forcing him to focus on the matter at hand with a more appropriate level of alertness.

"... appreciate your assistance. We're here to see Mr. Crawford."

The woman at the reception desk became slightly agitated at the mention of the patient's name. Scully found that interesting, but not alarming. Mr. Crawford was probably a challenging patient.

"Mr. Crawford isn't permitted to have visitors"

Krycek moved next to Dana, smiling shyly at the woman who'd spoken forcefully despite her obvious discomfort. "We understand completely. But we're not visitors. Dr. Scully has experience in dealing with Mr. Crawford's ... situation. Hasn't Dr. Cullen called? He assured us he would."

Scully fought back a smile, as she watched the middle aged woman try to determine how to respond to a guileless Alex Krycek. That was after she'd made a mental note to discuss his withholding of information and briefly considered suitable punishments. "I'm unaware of any communication with Dr. Cullen," the woman began uncertainly.

"Could you check? Please." Krycek opened the folder in his hand, giving every impression of reviewing his notes. For all Dana knew, he was. "He said that he'd authorize ... um ... I have it here somewhere. I think. Oh, here it is. Protocol alpha 6."

The woman's surprise was evident, as was her rising suspicion. "Unsupervised and unprotected access to that particular patient is unheard of Mr. ..."

The guileless young man was gone. His replacement, the no-nonsense professional, replied. "Dr. Scully's an expert in her field. Her work requires no supervision and her protection is my job. I'm quite good at it. I assure you."

The woman was off balance, looking at Alex with a new measure of respect. Particularly when he unbuttoned his suit coat and allowed it to fall open, revealing a sophisticated tranquilizer gun.

Scully decided then that it was time to join the fray in the tone and with the demeanor that people so often expected of physicians. "Dr. Cullen requested that I see this patient. Telephoning me incessantly and insisting. So I've taken time from my patients to travel here to do so. If I leave without completing my examination, I will not be back. C'mon, Alex." Without more, Scully turned away from the desk and moved rapidly toward the door. Krycek fell into step beside her.

"Is there a problem, Madeline?" a forty-ish, balding man asked, approaching rapidly. As an administrator of a private mental institution, one that accepted patients that had not been processed in the normal fashion, he'd become well versed in diffusing potentially explosive situations. This looked like an opportunity for using that skill. The hospital didn't need any more disgruntled persons making trouble.

"No, sir," the woman replied softly. "Everything's under control."

The man nodded and turned his attention to the visitors. They'd paused briefly when he'd asked his question. At his seeming acceptance of Madeline's explanation, they glanced at each other and moved once again toward the door.

"Excuse me," he called as he moved at an angle to intercept them. "I'm Randall Charmichael, hospital administrator. Is there anything I might help you with?"

Charmichael was focused on Scully, so Alex looked to her to respond. Sighing, she did. "I've traveled from Washington D.C. to see a patient of yours at the request of his treating physician only to be turned away. Call me what you will, but I don't like to have my time wasted."

The administrator moved to Scully's side, his expression and posture connoting sympathetic understanding. "I'm sure that there's been some mistake." Madeline's "But sir!" was ignored, as Charmichael continued his efforts to soothe. "Please, sit down and let me look into the situation. I won't be long. I promise."

"Do that," Krycek interjected. "I'd hate to have to report this to your benefactor." As he spoke, Alex reached into his pocket and removed a pack of Morley's. His eyes never leaving Charmichael's, he opened it and extracted a cigarette. The administrator's eyes shifted involuntarily to the "No Smoking" sign as Alex lit up. Krycek merely smiled at him, inhaling.

"I'll need to see his file," Scully called after the rapidly retreating man. Grinning up at Alex, she commented. "Nice rendition. Have you been practicing?"

"Anything new?" Fox Mulder asked as he crossed the threshold into Lone Gunman territory. Certain data from the operation End Game portion of the uplink information was vital to Scully's success and maybe to her survival. That was, of course, unless Krycek was blowing smoke. Mulder had decided, while talking to his former partner in the aftermath of the attempt to abduct Scully, that he couldn't take the risk that Alex was bluffing.

"Not much Mulder," Byers offered. We can only get so far. About a page of it translates into something we can at least read. The rest is garbage. Random symbols, as near as we can tell."

Langley approached from the left, brandishing a single eight and a half by eleven sheet of paper. "Can you make anything of it? We can't. Even Frohicke's overactive imagination is insufficient to provide context for this."

"I heard that," came the unmistakable voice of Frohicke from some other room.

Mulder smiled briefly and appeared to be considering something, rather than looking at what Langley had handed him. The two present Lone Gunmen found that strange. Mulder had always been a glutton for new information. Finally, the special agent spoke. "What if the goal was to communicate numbers? Would that skew the output?" What had struck Mulder about what Krycek had was the precision with which the lighthouses were believed to function. Could an effort to deactivate them be any less precise? Somehow, Mulder thought not.

Byers mentally reviewed the decryption protocols they'd tried. To further improve the accuracy of his analysis, he inquired, "Just numbers?" At Mulder's nod, Langley and Byers exchanged a glance and shook their heads "no." "I'll run it, then" Byers stated. "Both with and without the material that translated into the text you've got."

Satisfied that he'd gotten the ball rolling, Mulder glanced down at the page in front of him. It read as follows:

Unit 1111###able: Housing.
Unit 1111###mov: Portable Base.
Unit 1111###pow: Power Pack.
Unit 1111###aff: Cable, red.
Unit 1111###opp: Cable, black.
Unit 1111###alt: Alter Module.
Unit 1111###con: Control Unit.

Assemble in field. According to specifications. Technician level epsilon required. No tools necessary.

Precise placement required. Placement codes are as pre-selected. Timing within acceptance window required. Acceptance windows vary with power function. Appropriate power function dictated by location and date.

Emergency acceptance windows unavailable. Code change confirmed. Altered codes unavailable. Code change may indicate mission compromise. Known mission objectives decrease success probability to ten percent. Success probability maintained at forty five percent, provided mission implemented in next available acceptance window.

Mulder found himself wondering whether Krycek had a copy of the user's manual for the device to which these instructions pertained. If so, access to the device itself could prove to be the larger problem. Alex had been in search of means not method when they'd last spoken. Now he and Scully were seeking what? The Kurt Crawford clones? Something else? And if they were on the trail of the clones, Mulder wondered where they'd gotten a lead as to their location. Sighing, Mulder refocused his mental effort on the print out provided by Langley.

"You want numbers, Mulder. You got numbers." Mulder looked up quickly at the grinning Byers. Frohicke emerged from where ever he'd been in time to clap Byers on the back.

"Good man," Frohicke commented, as he looked over Byer's right shoulder. Mulder moved to peer over the left and Langley shouldered between them. Each man gazed at the four columns of numbers. Frohicke pointed at the third column. "Dates?" The other men nodded assent, without looking away from the screen.

"These could be longitude and latitude," Mulder asserted, indicating the first two columns. "Let's check our schedule, shall we?"

Byers nodded, typing furiously. "I'll get you your locations Mulder. But what's the fourth column for? All the entries are the same."

The observation focused Fox Mulder's attention on the repeated number/symbol combination. 28i. The special agent considered the output as a whole. Where was covered. At least Mulder thought so. It remained for Byers' program to run and confirm his theory. So was when, at least with regard to the date. What about time? Surely a date was insufficient.

"Ok Mulder. Here're your locations."

"Let me guess, Byers. Skyland Mountain. Kazakstan. Pennsylvania. Spain. Oman." Byers looked at Mulder in awe. Langley and Frohicke turned toward the FBI agent. Faced with three open mouthed Lone Gunmen, Mulder laughed. "Am I close?" he inquired innocently.

"Dead on Mulder," Langley retorted. "But you knew that. How?"

"A man's got to have some secrets." The three hackers exchanged an exasperated three way glance.

Alex Krycek and Dana Scully were waiting, patiently for the moment. Administrator Charmichael had been encouraging, before he left to "See what he could do." Scully'd tried to hide the fact that her head was still hurting, but she couldn't. Alex put a hand on her shoulder in support, before he leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. He wasn't tired really, just thinking about the interaction he'd had with Cigarette Smoking Man the day before. The ramifications of their discussion were far reaching, if Alex decided he believed what he'd been told. He hadn't yet and had made that clear to Cigarette Smoking Man before they parted ways. At that point, he'd seen something unprecedented in his experience in Cigarette Smoking Man's. It'd looked like ... fear.

As to the meeting, Cigarette Smoking Man had been true to his word. He'd arrived on time at Alex's Falls Church Virginia location. Krycek couldn't think of it as home, but it looked like one. A four bedroom house in the suburbs. He'd bought the houses on either side as well to make the security arrangements flow more seamlessly with the surrounding neighborhood. The three house "compound" blended in well, an illusion that Krycek had spent some time perfecting. Fitting in was something of an art. Alex excelled at it.

To hear Katya tell it, Cigarette Smoking Man strode up the front walk like a long lost uncle. Fortunately, Krycek had alerted his security team to the likelihood of a visitor as well as the expected time of his arrival. As a result, Cigarette Smoking Man had had no unfortunate confrontations. In fact, he'd had a pleasant, yet brief conversation with Katya and said hello to Gibson upon gaining admittance. Krycek still hadn't decided how to deal with Katya for her severe breach of protocol. Letting Cigarette Smoking Man into his bedroom while Alex was sleeping was unacceptable, especially under the circumstances.

Alex and Dana had arrived at the "compound" at 3:23 am that same morning, both exhausted. Katya had caught Krycek's eye, smirked and shook her head before taking charge of Dana Scully. Graham had directed Alex's attention to a set of communications that couldn't wait. With a sigh, Alex had applied himself to the task of responding.

Krycek had made his way to his bedroom about forty five minutes later. He was tired and the light level in the room was low, but Alex couldn't fail to appreciate the spectacle of Dana Scully looking out the window wearing what looked to be one of his shirts. She turned, as he shut the door behind him, slightly startled. "Making yourself at home, Dana?" he asked lightly.

"Is this your ...?" Scully broke off the question, looking a little embarrassed and no small measure annoyed, making Alex certain that she'd gone where Katya instructed.

Alex nodded affirmatively, trying and failing not to grin. "Does that bother you? There're plenty more. I can just ..."

"No." That word was assertive, decisive and final. Krycek smiled and made a show of looking Dana up and down, enjoying the fact that she blushed as a result. However, he soon realized that relinquishing the upper hand was not what Dana Scully had in mind. "I borrowed your shirt," she commented and she toyed with the top button she'd buttoned. The one between her breasts. "I hope you don't mind."

Mind? Why the hell would I mind? Have a whole closet full, and it looks so damn good on her, especially when it shifted over her frame as she sauntered toward him. She hadn't unbuttoned that button, had she? She had. Jesus. Time to change the subject and retreat to a safer topic and distance. His mouth cooperated, but his feet didn't. "How's your head?"

"Hurts. The pain killer's wearing off, and I'm not supposed to take another one tonight." She'd reached a position less than six inches away from him and paused, seemingly amused by his determined focus on her face.

His strategy really didn't help him, though. He was aware of her scent mixed with that of the soap she'd used in his shower. Dana Scully in his shower. Don't go there, Alex. Too late. His mind's eye provided him with several very intriguing ... very distracting ... very stimulating visual images. Distance, Alex. Remember. "I guess ... um ... you'd better get some sleep. I'll just get some stuff and go."

She closed the little remaining distance between them, a distraught expression on her face. Without thinking, Krycek slid his left arm around her waist and cupped her chin with his right hand, tilting her head upward. "What's wrong?" She met his eyes with tears in hers. "Dana, hey."

Without more, she burrowed into his arms. He held her close, trying not to think about how small and fragile she felt, even though he knew how strong she was. About her small hands stroking his back through his shirt. About her fists grasping and untucking it as she had the evening before -- a lifetime ago. About her hands roaming the skin of his back. Failing over and over again to direct his thoughts to places where he felt comfortable. Stepping back slightly, Dana gazed into his eyes for a long moment. "Stay with me, Alex. I don't want to be alone tonight."

Alex Krycek didn't trust himself to speak, so he nodded his assent. Satisfied at some level, Dana ran her index finger along his lower lip, smiling when he kissed it. The finger continued it's journey, from his lip to his jaw ... to his neck ... to his chest ... to the point where the first fastened button of his shirt halted its progress. She smiled mischievously and unbuttoned it and moved her finger to the next one.

"Dana, I thought your head hurt."

"It does. I thought you were tired." The second previously fastened button went the way of the first.

"Tired, yes. Dead, no."

Dana smiled at the strain in his voice. "Understood," she murmured, unbuttoning the remaining buttons with clinical detachment. "We need to get you ready for bed." With a sly smile, she slid his shirt off of his shoulders and asked, "What do you usually wear to sleep?"

Alex laughed and tossed the shirt he'd been wearing into the corner, admitting, "Less than this."

"Well then ...", Scully began throatily. "Let's see what we can do about that."

"Dana, I ..." Krycek caught her hands as she had reached for the top button on his jeans.

"Alex, you can't sleep in jeans. I won't permit you to be that uncomfortable or that ... confined." Krycek couldn't help smiling in response to her smirk.

"Fine. But ... if you take them off, neither of us are sleeping any time soon and we both need it."

Scully smiled and kissed him gently but thoroughly. Pleased by his reluctance to release her, she offered, "I'll let you attend to your own pants, provided you join me forthwith."

Alex Krycek hadn't wanted to think about what he was feeling, as he stood stock still, shirtless, and watching Dana Scully climb into his bed, settle in and pat the mattress next to her invitingly. He'd turned off the light, stripped down to his boxers, slipped into bed and pulled Dana into his arms. Kissing her gently, he murmured, "Go to sleep, little one." She sighed and snuggled closer. He'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

Cigarette Smoking Man had sat down and made himself comfortable at the small table near the window. Krycek had no idea how long Cigarette Smoking Man had been there before the smell of cigarette smoke woke him up, although Krycek admittedly hadn't immediately recognized what it was that suggested that it was a good idea for his eyes to open. His attention was immediately drawn to the woman in his arms. She looked peaceful, almost ... happy. Alex smiled, kissed her forehead and ran the fingers of his right hand through her hair. She was ... beautiful. God, he wanted her so badly. What the hell? Sniffing the air resulted in a less pleasant adrenaline surge. Turning slowly to his right, Krycek focused on Cigarette Smoking Man who was obviously amused. Alex didn't want to consider how smitten he'd looked. He was well aware that he'd been totally focused on his red haired companion.

"Must've been quite an evening Alex," the older man had commented dryly. "Your reputation will suffer a blow from which it'll never recover. If this gets out. Alex Krycek in bed with a beautiful woman in his arms. The both of them sound asleep ... and her wearing far too much clothing to justify another thrilling chapter in the annals of Krycek conquests."

Glaring at Cigarette Smoking Man, Krycek had endeavored to get out of bed without waking Dana. Alex ceased his efforts temporarily when she shifted closer to him, a contented smile on her face. As she settled comfortably against his side, she murmured his name. Certainly loud enough for the other man to hear it in the quiet room. Shit.

"I'll ... wait for you downstairs." Krycek hadn't acknowledge the amused statement, refusing to look up until he'd heard the bedroom door open and shut. He certainly didn't needed grief from Cigarette Smoking Man about Scully; he had enough trouble.

But he didn't realize how serious his situation potentially was until he and Cigarette Smoking Man had gotten down to business. He'd sat across the kitchen table from Krycek, drinking coffee and smoking another cigarette. Krycek had declined Cigarette Smoking Man's offer of a Morley for himself, but it'd been difficult. Both men were under severe stress. Cigarette Smoking Man sighed, took a deep breath and placed three scrambler units on the table between them.

"Use these. Destroy the ones the Eldest gave you."

Alex Krycek idly picked up one of the devices and turned it over in his hand, not speaking, simply waiting. "I believe the ones he gave you have been designed to be defeated by technology he controls."

"And block signals, except for those he originates?" Krycek's question hadn't really been one. His thoughtful musing was more in line with thinking out loud. Tone and demeanor altering completely, Alex refocused on Cigarette Smoking Man. His voice was hard, posture aggressive. "And I'm supposed to believe that these three aren't designed the same way vis a vis you? All I'd be doing is changing channels."

Cigarette Smoking Man tilted his head slightly to the left and set down his coffee cup. "You're well aware of how I operate, Alex. I have both the ways and the means at my disposal to monitor your activities should I choose to do so. Consider. I found you this morning. Talked my way into your bedroom no less. I don't need these devices. Robert does. He's less mobile and has fewer resources directed to ... mundane activities like locating people. And his people haven't worked with you. They don't know you, your tendencies or your associates."

Cigarette Smoking Man had been pleased, but had worked very hard not to show it. The logic of what he'd said wasn't lost on Krycek, but all the years of distrust and open animosity between them was getting in the way. That and the force of Robert's personality. He was very compelling, persuasive and reasonable. Alex had one choice -- trust neither. That decided, Krycek said, "Two scrambler systems that can be defeated by different signals, used together, would be impenetrable. Even if both systems had a dedicated signal for tracking the user. Right?"

Cigarette Smoking Man had smiled as he nodded assent. "The only issue would be whether identical tracking signals had been selected."

Alex's fist had impacted the table forcefully. "So everyone would have the same information."

"Better than having you wandering about unaccounted for. Wouldn't you say?"

Krycek hadn't respond immediately. His eyes weren't focused but his mind was. "All other things being equal, yes. But they aren't. So there's no reason for you to accept an even playing field." Alex had leaned forward, watching Cigarette Smoking Man closely. The older man had nodded slowly and took another cigarette out of his pack. Watching Cigarette Smoking Man light his cigarette, Krycek had realized that he'd gotten all he could out of that line of inquiry. "Why's he so interested in me?"

Cigarette Smoking Man had met his eyes without hesitation. "You plan to do something that he doesn't want accomplished. It's as simple as that."

"So Robert's actually pro-invasion. Is that it? That's what you'd have me believe? Based on what? Your word? Sorry. You'll need more than that." Alex's voice had been calm, but his effort to project detachment was foiled by the nearly continuous drumming of his fingertips on the table.

Cigarette Smoking Man hadn't backed down from the challenge Krycek posed. He'd simply leaned forward and spoke with great intensity. "He's fooled many people, Alex. Including me. And I've paid a very high price for my inability to see him for what he was."

"Had to go an hour without a Morley or something? That'd make an impression, I'm sure." As he'd spoken, Krycek stood. Shaking his head, he'd moved toward the coffee pot.

Cigarette Smoking Man had stood as well and cut Krycek off before he reached his destination, standing close enough to obviously invade Alex's personal space. Krycek had looked Cigarette Smoking Man in the eye, unafraid and not intimidated. Unimpressed, Cigarette Smoking Man hadn't flinched or retreated. Both men had been angry and aware of how high the stakes were.

"He was responsible for importation of certain Iraqi technology. And for the assault on Agent Scully's apartment last night." Krycek's jaw had tightened at Cigarette Smoking Man's accusations and the older man had relentlessly continued, "Robert's developed an ... interest in the young woman in your bed. An interest that I believe you'd consider to be ... unhealthy. He doesn't want the lighthouses "decommissioned," Alex. And he'll do what he must to prevent it."

Krycek's only response had been a non-committal grunt. His mind had been elsewhere, evaluating options.

Cigarette Smoking Man anticipated him. "Alex, let's be frank. Robert will try to maintain the status quo, even as we seek to alter it. Together ... we might succeed. Alone ..." Cigarette Smoking Man had let his sentence trail off meaningfully. Stepping out of the younger man's way, he'd waited.

Alex's eyes had tracked Cigarette Smoking Man's movement. Then he'd shrugged, stepped forward and reached for the coffee pot. "Why don't you just tell me what you want? And we'll go from there."

"Ready to proceed?" Charmichael queried boisterously, startling Alex Krycek out of his reverie and exacerbating Dana Scully's headache. The hospital administrator continued, unaware of or ignoring the effect of his question on his listeners. "My sincerest apologies, Dr. Scully. A most unfortunate miscommunication. Your examination can proceed without further delay. Will you follow Nurse Ketchum please? She has the file you requested."

Nurse Ketchum was in her fifties and exuded that air of no nonsense efficiency that is often a characteristic of career health care professionals. She preceded them down the hallway without a backward glance, expecting them to follow. They did, a respectful two to three paces behind. As they moved toward their destination, Scully found herself grateful that they had a guide. The facility was maze-like, and the doctor in her found that strange. Why design a care facility for mentally ill patients in this manner? Harder to escape, surely, but it would also be more difficult to fine a patient who got lost. A more straight corridor architecture would be more prudent in Scully's view.

"Mr. Crawford's in this room," the nurse finally announced, offering the file to Dana. Scully accepted it and exchanged a glance with Krycek, as the nurse slowly and carefully entered a complex lock code into an electronic device to the right of the door. "The door will lock behind you. There's a call button on the wall just inside. Use it when you're finished."

When the lock mechanism disengaged and the door opened, Scully and Krycek moved toward it. Krycek went first, cutting directly in front of Dana to her surprise and minor trepidation.

Scully's unease was furthered by the nurse's muttered, "I hope the two of you know what you're doing."

Dana turned to look at the closing door, a move which delayed her realization that the room was huge. There were about twenty beds, arranged in two rows with a "corridor" in between. All were occupied. Scully frowned. Where the hell was Crawford? And why was he in this common room?

Suddenly, Dana became aware of Krycek's scrutiny. He'd stopped between the first two beds and was looking back at her uncertainly. "So where's your man Alex?"

"Right here." Krycek's tone was neutral, his expression unreadable.

Scully's frustration manifested as sarcasm. She didn't have the patience for games and wondered why Alex was taking the time to play one. He'd been moving with a sense of urgency up until now. "Which one?"

Alex hesitated before responding, "All of them."

Scully's laugh was loud in the quiet room. She was smiling and shaking her head before she glanced at Krycek. He wasn't laughing or smiling. He was tense, keyed up, maybe even a little ... nervous. Deciding that she was unlikely to determine what his problem was until she figured out what he was alluding to, Scully approached the first bed in the left hand row. The chart at the foot of the bed indicated that this was Kurt Crawford. He was being given a cocktail of depressants and muscle relaxants to keep him docile. Why? In an effort to find out, Scully opened the file the nurse had provided. A brief examination indicated that Kurt Crawford had violent tendancies as well as a mischievous side. Page after page described his problematic behavior. How could one man have caused this much trouble?

"Dana, could you come here for a moment?"

Scully looked up from the file, puzzlement obvious. Thoughtfully, she approached the second bed and accepted the chart that Alex held out to her. Absently, she glanced down. Her level of alertness skyrocketed when she saw the name and treatment regimen. Kurt Crawford? Same cocktail of drugs? Shaking her head in disbelief, she looked at the second patient. He was a twin of the first. An identical twin. But why did they have the same name? What parents would do that?

"Dana," Krycek called softly. She glanced up, startled. He was standing at the foot of the third bed in line, once again holding the associated chart. "They're a set of clones, designed to work in labs doing alien/human hybridization experiments. I've got reason to believe that they have information relevant to dealing with the lighthouses and to think that they'll tell you what they know."

"Why on earth would they tell me?" Scully had moved closer to Krycek to ask her question. She'd sounded oddly vulnerable and Alex managed to meet her eyes briefly before dropping his to the floor.

Before Krycek could respond, the clone in the third bed on the left opened his eyes and focused with difficulty on the two people standing nearby. He dismissed the male immediately, because of the importance of the woman. "Mother?" he called with as much volume as he could muster. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to cause the man and woman to look his way. Kurt tentatively reached out his right hand toward the woman. "Mother. You're all right. I didn't fail." His smile was broad and oddly engaging.

Scully was stunned. This man was an adult. He couldn't be much younger than she was, but he'd spoken with conviction in asserting his parentage. And Alex, he was oddly quiet, watching her approach the bed and take the young man's hand. "No Kurt," she murmured. "You didn't fail."

Kurt smiled and his eyes closed. In a moment, he was sleeping again.

"Start talking Krycek," she commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

"So Krycek's begun his "retrieval" operation then?" Special Agent Diana Fowley asked Fox Mulder. They were alone in his office in the J. Edgar Hoover building. Her question was rhetorical in the sense that she knew the answer. Fox didn't know that she knew, however. For Fowley, it was a way of getting Mulder started talking to her and building momentum necessary to obtain answers to the tougher questions to follow. Mulder merely nodded affirmatively, not a good start from Diana's perspective so she tried again. "How long will he and Scully be gone?"

"Three to five days, he said." Mulder was preoccupied. Diana could see that clearly. But by what? Answering questions without exposition was not Mulder's standard conversational pattern, at least not with her.

"So what's the problem, Mulder?" she queried lightly. When that garnered no response, she switched tactics. "Scully not report in as instructed? Or has she reported something that didn't sit well with you? Like a plan to work through the entire Kama Sutra with Krycek in that time frame." No reaction from Mulder to such a blatant attempt to rile him. That was unprecedented. "Fox, are you with me here?"

"Hmmm," was the vague reply. With an obvious effort, Mulder focused on Fowley.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mulder."

Fox Mulder considered his situation. Scully didn't trust Diana. If she was right, telling Diana anything could put Scully at risk. If she wasn't, they were not availing themselves of all of the resources at their disposal. Mulder decided that he had to know, one way or the other. If Scully required protection from Diana, Mulder vowed to provide it, regardless of the personal cost. Sighing, Mulder met Fowley's gaze, smiling despite his uncertainty at the patient yet expectant expression on her face.

"Five days is too long," Mulder offered. "Three is pushing it. If the Lone Gunmen have got the schedule right." Fowley remained silent, willing Mulder to continue. "Beyond that, the timing is hardly better. Krycek needs a great travel agent, if he's handling this job personally. If he starts on time and doesn't have too much trouble, he'll get from point A to B ok. And maybe to C with some margin for error. His penultimate job will have to come off without a hitch for him to have a chance to be on time for the last one. His own transportation would help, but it would be close, even then."

Mulder's information made no sense to Fowley, but the night was young. His expression as he contemplated ... whatever he was contemplating was unusual. He looked upset. She'd almost be tempted to say stricken. "Tell me the rest, Mulder."

Her gentle prod garnered the desired result. "His last stop's in Russia. If he makes it that far, I'm not certain that he'll come back."

Diana's analytical skills were engaged. Krycek remaining in Russia seemed like the best case scenario for Mulder. His precious Scully would be liberated from the younger man's influence. It'd be back to XFile partners again. Wouldn't it?

As if on cue, Mulder answered her unspoken question. "That'll hurt Scully a lot. The bastard."

Fowley cursed herself for not seeing what should've been obvious. Yet to be honest, she'd never quite been able to convince herself that Mulder's affection for the red head was real. Yet Scully seemed to figure in all that Fox Mulder thought and did. Diana doubted that Mulder was even aware of how much. "Why do you think he'll stay?"

Mulder shrugged and continued slowly, "I don't think he will if he has any choice. But Krycek's burned more bridges than most people have ever built. With people and organizations that have long memories."

Mulder's analysis of Krycek was plausible. Diana lacked data with which to confirm or deny Mulder's conclusions. "What's all this based on Mulder? I can't imagine Alex Krycek baring his soul to you in Agent Scully's apartment."

"No. If Alex has a soul, the idea of baring it would be anathema to him. Especially to me."

Fowley wondered at the somewhat sheepish smile on Mulder's face, as he commented on his former partner. How much had these men bonded in the short time that they worked together? Their insights as to the other often were inordinately accurate. Agent Fowley was also interested in the extent of Scully's knowledge on this topic.

Mulder shrugged. "Bits and pieces of information collected over time along with a tenuous and fragile theory connecting them. That's all I've got. Alex has some Russian roots. And he's left there, I believe on more than one occasion, under less than ideal circumstances. How many times can a man return to the scene of past misdeeds without them catching up with him?"

Diana nodded slowly, hoping to convey solemn agreement. Her effort seemed to be successful, so she ventured, "Russia's location E. Where are A through D?"

Mulder shook his head, almost as though to clear it before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper, which he unfolded and placed on his desk. "Here's the route I'd take, if I were him."

Special Agent Dana Scully was silent. She had been for several moments. "These clones share my DNA," she stated tentatively, as though she were sounding it out. Krycek nodded. "What else aren't you telling me?"

Realizing that an argument was brewing, Alex ignored his desire to proceed more cautiously. There just wasn't time. "Nothing that you need to know."

Scully modulated her voice just in time, barely suppressing her need to shout in view of the sleeping clones. Instead, she moved closer to Krycek and snarled, "What gives you the right to decide that? For better or for worse, Alex, I'm in this mess with you. I both need and deserve to understand what's going on."

"I'll explain as much as I can. Later. For now ..."

"What? You want me to ask them something." Scully's voice was angry, bitter and heading toward self pity. "Tell me, do you ever do anything yourself? Or do you always just use whoever is most convenient?"

"I do what I can, Dana." His answer was as calm as his expression was troubled. "If not, I get the job done however I can. You know that. You've always known that."

She turned away from him, gazing down at sleeping Kurt number 3, uncertain why she felt betrayed and used. Sensing Krycek's approach, Scully tensed. He stopped immediately, coming no closer, but putting a hand on her shoulder and exerting a gentle backward pressure. Scully sighed and grudgingly half turned toward him.

"I ... should've told you about them on the way here. There were reasons I didn't, but I doubt you'd consider any of them particularly persuasive. Hell, Dana, I told you I didn't think I could work with anyone anymore. Guess this proves it."

Scully pursed her lips. It'd been quite the performance. Alex had contrite down pretty well. It was only the merest hint of speculation in his eyes as they met hers that gave him away. His tentative smile in response to her silence almost convinced Scully that she'd been mistaken. It also made her wonder how many of his past performances had been flawless. Which, in turn, made her feel very foolish. Rather than skirting the issue, Dana decided to tackle it unambiguously. But first she wanted to get Krycek's attention and express her frustration.

She was a little ashamed by the satisfaction she experienced in delivering the sucker punch to the stomach, followed smartly by the pistol whip to the left side of his face. The widened eyes staring at the gun now aimed at his forehead were also appreciated.

While she focused on his face, Krycek had hooked his foot on the cord of the monitoring unit located on a small wheeled table. When Scully spun toward the sound of it moving toward them, he'd moved in, grasping her gun hand before she could bring the weapon back to bear on him and twisting her wrist forcefully. The sharp pain had the desired effect. Her gun fell to the floor and he kicked it away, grabbed her other wrist, forced her against the wall and held her there with his hip. Breathing hard, they stared at each other. Green eyed anger faced blue eyed defiance.

Scully demanded, "Let. Me. Go."

"No." That was it, a one word answer, spoken through gritted teeth. Dana Scully tried to extricate her wrists from his grasp, only to cause further pain in the injured one. "Listen to me, Dana," he said. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you will, won't you Alex?" Her words were spoken in a harsh whisper, clearly indicating that she believed that the answer to her question was "Yes".

"No more than you force me to."

"How noble! I'm so impressed." She was still whispering, but now in a more taunting manner. "Shall I force you to hurt me some more. Would you like that?" As she'd spoken, Dana had suggestively rubbed her body against his. That got a reaction. Alex had pushed her away. He wasn't sure what she was after, but she had his attention, enhancing her chance of getting her point across as forcefully as she liked.

"Is that what you think?" He looked and sounded confused, but Scully wasn't buying it.

"Step away from her," ordered a male voice originating from behind Krycek. "Slow and easy."

Alex closed his eyes briefly, before glancing over his shoulder. Six Kurt Crawfords were arrayed there, two in flanking position and three bunched around the one that was now holding Scully's gun. Taking a deep breath, Krycek released Scully's wrists and moved further back. Only a step or two, but it was enough for Scully to move around him toward her rescuers. Slowly, Krycek turned to face all of them and softly muttered, "You're making a big mistake, Dana. If we don't finish this, there's going to be a whole lot more to worry about than wounded pride."

"Shut up!" the gun wielding Kurt ordered.

"Is that what you think this is about? My pride?" Without thinking, Scully moved closer to Alex.

"Isn't it? I said a few things that I thought would satisfy you, so we could get back to the matter at hand. And you caught me." His last statement was punctuated with a half shrug, half raise of his hands. "Trying to placate you. Then you started wondering how many times you hadn't. Well, if you want to know, I can tell you. There haven't been that many, Dana. Not nearly as many as there should've been."

Scully looked at Krycek for a long moment. He didn't look away or try to divert her in any manner. He appeared to be waiting for her to make her assessment. "Why are we here, Krycek?"

Alex tried to determine how the dynamic between them had just altered. Her change of subject likely indicated that she was at least thinking about what he'd said and allowing that it might be true. It was a start. "I need to know where to find the device that can deactivate the alien lighthouses. Mulder thinks they know." His hand motion, generally encompassing the large room, identified "they" as the clones. "Given your relationship to them, I thought they might be more forthcoming, if you did the asking. And I think we're operating under a time constraint, Dana. Mulder was going to ask the Lone Gunmen to evaluate the uplink information with that in mind. He may even have the dates already."

Special Agent Dana Scully's headache had returned with a vengeance. Softly, she asked, "Do you know what he's talking about, Kurt?"

The one closest to her replied, "Sure. It's part of a piece of art. A sculpture of a bird of prey perched on a tree branch."

Alex Krycek's face paled, his shoulders slumped and he muttered, "Oh shit!"

Ignoring him, Scully focused on the clone who'd replied. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, mother." Eager to please and reacting with alarm to Dana's frown, the clone gestured to Krycek. "He knows I'm right. And where it is, looks like."

Scully returned her attention to Krycek, who now appeared to be very far away, focused on a problem that only he perceived. Touching her hand to her head briefly, she moved toward him. "No mother," several of the clones warned. "Stay back."

Dana found it interesting that the Kurts' statements were what caught Alex's attention, rather than her proximity. His eyes did focus on her seconds later, somewhat warily. Gently touching the bruise forming on the side of his face, she asked, "How much trouble are we in, Alex?"

The use of the word "we" and his first name sounded like a peace offering to Krycek and was as much of an apology as he was likely to get until they were alone and some time had passed to allow the emotions of the moment to be put in perspective. It was enough. Acknowledging it seemed neither necessary nor desirable, so Alex answered her question. "More than I'd like. We're going to have to pay someone a visit. A very important someone, who may well be the villain of the piece. Did you happen to buy yourself any evening wear in New York? He likes things a bit formal."

A pattern had been broken. Scully wasn't sure why. "You want me to go with you? Isn't this about the time where you say, "It's too dangerous. I'm going in. Alone," and I protest to no avail." Krycek laughed, making the Kurt with the gun nervous.

After Alex glanced at him and raised an eyebrow to Dana, she nodded and retrieved her weapon with a whispered, "Thank you," and a kiss on the cheek. Smiling at the happy expression on the clone's face, she turned back to her companion. "Well Alex?"

"Generally, yes. But how can you expect me to retrieve anything without my bloodhound?" Acknowledging his effort to get things back to what passed for "normal" between them, Scully answered Krycek's grin with one of her own. Yet his smile faded when he approached and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Seriously, Dana. We've talked about getting in too far. This is the line separating the shallow from the deep end. If you come with me, you'll have crossed it. And you can't go back."

Dana met Krycek's earnest expression with a matching one and a hug. "You need me. I go. It's not complicated, Alex." Krycek sincerely wished that he believed that Dana really understood the commitment that she'd just made. He didn't, and that fact plagued a conscience that he'd forgotten he had.

Special Agent Diana Fowley was encrypting the information that she'd obtained from Fox Mulder. Actually, the computer program was doing it while she waited. As soon as the process was completed, she would transmit the data to her associates who, Diana was reasonably certain, would find it quite interesting. Information such as this required immediate action. Thus, she was going over the procedure for breaking "radio silence." A flashing icon on her computer screen alerted her that the encryption was finished. A few keystrokes sent the information winging its electronic way to its destination. Fowley sat back in the chair, took a settling breath and reached for the telephone.

It was answered on the third ring. "Yes."

"Fowley, here. I've just sent you some information that Mr. Strughold will want to review immediately."

"Really?"

Fowley reacted negatively to the skepticism in the man's tone, but delayed her response to ensure that none of her feelings could be heard in her voice. "He wanted to know Krycek's plans, including a timetable. That information's included in my transmission. I trust he'll find it useful."

"I see. Then the purpose of this highly irregular telephone communication is what exactly?"

"To direct your attention to my time sensitive information and to request instructions. I'm assuming, of course, that you'll arrange to rendezvous with him in Oman. Do you want Krycek stopped before he gets to you?" The pause on the other end of the line was longer than Diana was anticipating. "Hello?"

"I'm still, here Agent Fowley. I was checking Strughold's calendar. He's not particularly busy over the next ten days. Can we expect young Krycek during that time frame?"

"Yes. But he'll have built up some momentum, if he gets to you unscathed."

"Scathe him, then. If he reaches us, Mr. Strughold will entertain him in a manner appropriate to the occasion."

"He'll be focused on the lighthouse. I doubt that he'll deviate from that objective. The timetable doesn't appear to permit it. Still, he might make the time. Marita Covarrubias mentioned the "special arrangement" she had with Strughold before her elimination. Alex may want to discuss that with your boss."

"Do I sense a modicum of grief in your voice?"

"None," Fowley answered without hesitation and with a sharp laugh. "I've got a little sinus trouble."

"That must've been it," Stephen allowed. "Is that all?"

"For now. I'll slow Alex down for you. It's the least I can do."

"If his chest ceases to rise and fall before he gets to us, we'll endeavor to manage our disappointment. Good hunting, Diana."

"Thanks, Stephen. I'll let you know." Diana Fowley smiled as she replaced the telephone receiver. This was going to be fun.

Alex Krycek had talked -- the entire way from the hospital to the airport, on the plane, from the plane to Scully's car. He'd been hesitant at first and vague but she'd been patient, waiting and asking the occasional question en route to obtaining the information that she'd craved for years. Dana Scully now had a reasonable idea of what they were up against, what they were trying to do and what he expected of her. She didn't agree with where he believed her contribution would end but didn't feel the need to argue at this point. Finally, Alex had run out of things he was willing to share. Dana had no idea how much more he knew, but she was satisfied for the moment. Alex had gotten quiet, appearing to focus on his driving, when he wasn't glancing her way in an effort to determine her reaction to the information he'd provided. She remained silent, trying for an enigmatic expression.

Finally, he couldn't stand the suspense. "So. Are you in?"

Dana met Alex's eyes, grateful that they were at a red light. He was staring at her, lower lip caught between his teeth. Impulsively, she leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "What do you think?" She could look at that smile for hours, but the honking of horns ruined the moment. Alex's expression was priceless, as he stalled the car trying to put it into gear quickly. Dana hid her smile behind a hand.

One glance her way indicated to Krycek that she was laughing at him, albeit silently. Her smile had reached her eyes. Despite the cause, Alex enjoyed the playful and happy look in her clear blue eyes. It didn't appear often. As soon as he got the car to the vicinity of the speed limit, his cellular telephone rang. He had to change lanes to get situated properly in the traffic circle and shift gears to accelerate. "Dana. My phone's in my jacket pocket. Could you ...?"

"Sure," Scully responded quickly. Traffic was always tricky through here. "Use the Force," she advised, as she retrieved his phone and depressed the key to complete the connection. "Yes."

As Scully expected, there was a noticeable pause on the other end of the line. "I'm trying to reach Alex Krycek." The voice was female, a little throaty, what a man might consider to be sexy.

"May I tell him who's calling?" Dana stifled a laugh at Krycek's rolled eyes. Surprisingly, she was actually enjoying playing administrative assistant, but Scully didn't let the unusual situation concern her. Truth be told, she was curious. She hadn't expected a woman, although upon a moment's further reflection she supposed that she shouldn't have been that surprised.

"Tell him it's Jennifer. He'll know who I am."

"Hold on, please." Grinning at the man in the driver's seat, Dana covered the "mouthpiece" of the cellular phone. "Will you take a call from Jennifer?" Startled, Krycek turned toward Scully. "Alex!" Redirecting his attention to the roadway, Krycek corrected the car's path, keeping within his own lane.

"Sorry, Dana," he muttered, reaching for the telephone.

"An admirer?" she asked with a smirk, holding the telephone just beyond his reach.

"A problem," he replied, gesturing for her to hand over the telephone. Still smirking, Dana did. Hesitantly he switched it to his left hand and held it to his ear. After taking another moment to collect himself, he spoke. "Jennifer. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Scully could hear the laughter on the other end of the telephone. She'd slid as close to Alex as the bucket seats would allow and leaned toward him. Cooperating, he tilted his head toward her to enable her to hear both sides of the conversation.

"I think you know, gorgeous. Unfortunately, this isn't about that promise you made. The one you seem to have forgotten. It's business. We think it's time for a chat. Do you agree?"

"Can't hurt."

"I wouldn't go that far, but I'm glad that you generally concur with our thinking. Perhaps there'll even be time for a tour of my uncle's art collection. Would you like that?"

"That'd be great."

"Afterwards, I might be able to arrange that full body massage that we've talked about."

"That won't be necessary. I've managed to find another outlet for stress lately. And I'd rather collect on your offer, when I really need it."

"Your ... alternative stress reliever wouldn't happen to have red hair, would she?" Alex smiled when Dana Scully kissed his neck, but kept his eyes on the road.

"I'd like to bring her with me, if that's all right. She's fond of art."

"Please do. My uncle's anxious to meet the intrepid Agent Scully."

"Shall we dress for dinner?"

"Please. We'll make an evening of it. Tomorrow at eight?"

Alex glanced at Dana, asking about her availability with his eyes. Scully nodded affirmatively and winked. "See you then."

"As much of me as you'd like. Later."

Frowning, Krycek terminated the cellular telephone connection. Dana Scully reached across his body, took the phone and returned it to his pocket. His tension level was high, much higher than before the call.

Gently rubbing his right shoulder, Dana inquired lightly, "Trying to make me jealous, Alex?" His laughter was genuine. She'd swear it. And he'd relaxed a little.

"Nah. But it'd do my ego good if you were."

Scully simply grinned and continued to massage his shoulder, waiting for him to continue. When he remained silent, she said, "So Jennifer and Robert want to see us and show off their art collection. Just when we've been told that what we need is associated with a sculpture. What's going on, Alex?"

"It's time to play poker, Scully. And see who's best at bluffing."