Life from the Ashes Book 1 - A New Beginning
Chapter 11
Bratiyaby Jo B.
purplefox@usfamily.net***
St. Petersburg
Friday, January 1
5:00 a.m.Walter Skinner walked through the quiet St. Petersburg's airport with Melvin Frohike at his side. Alex Krycek had promised to have a car waiting for them when they arrived. Skinner's stomach was knotting as he dwelled on the conversation that he had had with Krycek, going over it again and again.
One thing he knew for sure was that something had happened to Fox, but the rest of the conversation had him completely baffled. The fear and agitation was obvious in Krycek's voice, but what was that business about his mother's name? He would get his answers . . . and maybe a few licks in as well, when he sees that rat-bastard again.
Frohike was racing to keep up with Skinner's long strides. The A.D. didn't have to tell him about what was said in the phone conversation, he had listened in, but was unable to penetrate Krycek's thoughts. He had no problem reading Skinner's thoughts, but Krycek was a different story . . . he kept tight control over his thoughts.
"Assistant Director Skinner!" A portly older Russian shouted from across the room.
Skinner stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward the speaker. The man was quickly making his way to them across the concourse. When he got to them, he held out his hand. "I'm Boris Gudenko . . . Alexei sent me to pick you up," he gasped out breathlessly.
Skinner shook his hand, pointing to Frohike. "This is Melvin Frohike." Frohike shook the Russian's hand, frowning, he could read this man's thoughts loud and clear, but the man was thinking in Russian.
"Come along, gentlemen, Alexei was very insistent that I take you to him right away."
"Do you know what this is about?" Skinner asked.
"No, I'm sorry I don't," Boris answered as he led them to his car.
***
"Alex, would you please sit down? You're making me exhausted by just watching you," Dana said tiredly.
Krycek stopped his pacing and turned to the Scullys. "Dana, Bill, I'm expecting a visitor shortly. I think it would be better if I met with him alone." He hadn't been able to get them to leave him alone since they tracked him down to the parlor. Krycek had put up for over an hour of Dana's concern, but enough was enough. He did not want them here when he met with his brother *Walter Skinner* the mere thought was hard for him to swallow. Fox had become his whole life . . . and to find out his lover's other lover was his older brother was just too much.
His only consolation was that his big brother had no idea of their relationship. It would make breaking the news to him somewhat enjoyable.
"Does your visitor concern Mulder? If he does then I insist on being here, after all, Mulder is my partner."
"Dana, yes it concerns Fox. I'm expecting Walter Skinner in a few minutes and I would like to meet with him alone. He may be our only hope in getting Fox away from Slava."
"Alex, you can't be serious! Walter Skinner can't be trusted!"
"This isn't about *trust* it's about Mulder's life!" Krycek stomped angrily back over to the fireplace, staring sadly up at his mother's portrait. He could still smell her perfume in the room.
The door to the parlor opened and in stepped Boris followed by Skinner and Frohike. The Scullys both stood. Krycek was still standing in front of his mother's portrait. When he heard the gasp, he turned around slowly.
Walter Skinner stood slack jawed staring at the painting. When Krycek turn around to face him, the A.D. immediately saw the resemblance between Krycek and the woman in the portrait -- his mother. The resemblance was so striking he didn't know why he had never noticed it before. His world came crashing down on him. Now he realized what had bothered him about the alias Krycek used on the plane to St. Petersburg -- Mikhailovich was the male version of his mother's maiden name Mikhailovna. Alex Krycek was his brother.
"How?" he asked in a small strained voice.
Krycek turned to the other people in the room. "Please, leave us . . . I need to discuss some personal matters with Skinner in private."
"Alex, we're all in on this . . . I would prefer staying!" Scully snapped at him.
"Leave now!" Krycek ordered, pushing them to go with his mind.
They all left the room in a hurry, unable to prevent themselves. Boris pulled the doors closed after them, turning to them. "Well . . . that was interesting. Why don't we all go wait in the kitchen and share a cup of tea," Boris stated cheerfully, trying to relieve some of the tension.
Dana glared at the closed door. //Damn you, Krycek, what are you playing at? If you harm Mulder, I will see that you pay.//
Frohike interrupted Scully's thoughts. "This doesn't involve Mulder, Scully."
"Frohike, what do you mean?"
"Let's do as Boris requested and go into the kitchen. I'll explain what I know in there. Oh, by the way, what the hell have you done to your hair?" he asked.
"Shut up, Frohike," Scully snapped, stomping off in the direction of the kitchen.
***
Walter Skinner walked across the room and stood next to Krycek, staring up at the portrait. "Tell me?" he asked in a weak voice.
"I'll tell you everything I know, but first you tell me what you know about our mother?" Krycek asked nervously. It was early in the morning, but he needed a drink. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and removed a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He set it down on the coffee table and poured each of them a drink. Skinner accepted his gratefully as he sat down tiredly on the sofa. Krycek took the chair across from him.
"Mother died when I was six . . . father said she had been killed by a hit and run driver. He defected to America with my sister and me two weeks later. My father legally changed our names, wanting them to sound more American. That's all I know . . . I never doubted my father for a moment. Why did he lie . . . about this? Damn him!" Skinner was anger -- his mother had still been alive. If he had only known . . . he would have gone to her.
"Tell me . . . did she have a good life? Tell me what you know, Krycek?"
"Mother was always sad and she never left the apartment. She married my father in 1958 . . . I don't think she ever loved him. In fact, the only times she seemed happy was when he was away on business. She never mentioned having any other children -- until today."
"What? She's still alive?"
"No, she died in 1981 . . . shortly after I left for the U.S. to attend college. I never should have gone . . . I was her only source of happiness." Krycek sighed sadly; he had always felt responsible for his mother's death.
"You said she told you today -- how?" Skinner was becoming agitated. He didn't like the riddles Krycek had been throwing at him.
"I came in here in distress. Fox . . . has been kidnaped. I asked mother's portrait what I should do . . . she appeared before me and told to call my brother . . . Vladimir. Then she vanished and the phone lifted from its cradle and dialed itself and you answered. I know it sounds crazy, but that is what happened."
"I believe you."
Seeing Krycek's shocked expression, Skinner replied, "I oversaw Fox and his X-Files for over five years . . . nothing surprises me. Now tell me what happened to Fox? Who has him?"
"It isn't good . . . Nikolai Slava took him."
"The man that was on the plane with you to Russia? The Lone Gunmen said he is a well known Russia Mafia figure"
Krycek slammed back the rest of his vodka. "Slava *is* the Russian Mafia, he's killed off all of his competition. He's absolutely ruthless. Human life means nothing to him, it's just another commodity. Damn it, Walter, he deals in slavery. He has men abducted from around the world and has them trained as sex slaves, some of his biggest customers and I mean that literally -- are n'thrals. Not just any n'thral, but some of the most vial and ruthless rulers this world has ever seen." Krycek was physically shaking and he placed his head into his hands. He tried desperately to regain control; he did not want to break down before this man, even if he was his brother.
"Damn it! Krycek, why didn't you stop him? How could you have let that bastard get his hands on Fox?" Skinner stood up and was standing over him menacingly.
"Nikolai Slava is a sorcerer and he's considerably more powerful than I am. That is why I need your help, he doesn't know you. You could get close enough to him and find out where he is holding Fox. You'll be able to talk to Fox and find out if he's okay. Skinner, please, I couldn't get within ten miles of them."
"Okay, Krycek, I'll help for Fox's sake, but he's returning to D.C. with me when we get him back."
"I'll agree to anything as long as we get Fox back safely. Skinner, I love him too and I'm willing to let him go if it means that he will be safe." Krycek couldn't control the few tears that leaked from his eyes, and he bit his bottom lip to keep from sobbing.
"Where do you suggest we start looking?" Walter Skinner asked, feeling sorry for younger man before him -- his brother. He knew what it felt like to be so desperately in love that nothing else mattered except his lover's happiness and welfare. How could he hate this man that looked so much like his long dead mother?
"I suggest we contact the FSB and get a list of all of Slava's properties. He has to be holding Fox at one of them. We'll pick the most likely places and you can get within telepathic range and see if he's at any of them. What is your range?"
"Around fifty miles, it could be slightly farther."
"That's how you found him in Denver? I didn't know you had that kind of range . . . damn that's incredible. We may have a much better edge than I had thought. Slava's range is only twenty miles, he will never be able to detect you even if he knew your brain waves." Krycek smiled faintly, feeling slightly comforted by their advantage.
In the kitchen, Frohike was giving them a play-by-play of the discussion happening in the living room.
Boris looked at him in disgust. "Don't you have any respect for other people's privacy? Have you no shame, man?"
"Nope . . . none whatsoever. Why do you ask?" The little man smirked at him. Frohike had really started to enjoy his powers. He could live vicariously through other people. He really had enjoyed voyeuristically watching the sex between Skinner and Mulder . . . both men were so hot. He would give anything to be close enough to see Mulder and Krycek go at it, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen again.
"There must be some anti-clairvoyant drug the government could give people like you," Boris muttered.
Bill interrupted, "Okay, let's see if I have this right. You're saying that Skinner is Krycek's half-brother. They have the same mother, but neither one knew this until their long dead mother told Krycek?" Bill snorted in absolute disbelief. "Please, Frohike, if you're going to lie, try making up something believable."
"I am not lying!"
Bill got up and headed for the servant's room when he heard Matthew crying. His little boy had been crying on and off since Mulder had disappeared. Nothing seemed to pacify Matthew for long, he kept asking for the agent.
Bill came back out cradling his little boy in his strong arms. Matthew wiggled to be let down. Bill placed him on the floor and the little boy made the rounds meeting the two new people in the room. He waddled back up to his father. "Fox?" he asked him.
"Matthew, Fox isn't here." Bill sighed.
The door to the kitchen opened, and Skinner and Krycek walked in.
Scully glared at Skinner with undisguised contempt. The A.D. immediately picked up on her thoughts and didn't miss her conflicting emotions of satisfaction and sorrow she felt over lying to Mulder by telling the agent that he was dead.
"We're heading for Moscow." Krycek informed them.
"I'll get my bag," Scully said, standing.
"No . . . it would be safer for Skinner and me to go alone."
"Fuck that! Mulder is my partner and I don't want that man near him," she snapped at Krycek while glaring menacingly at Skinner.
"Fox, wouldn't be in this current predicament if you hadn't lied to him, Scully. He'd be safely back in the U.S. with me . . . not being held by some perverted peddler of human flesh!"
"You're a fine one to speak about lies, Assistant Director Walter Skinner! That was the only reason you were put in charge of the X-Files . . . to monitor our work and destroy the evidence. Not to mention winning Agent Mulder's trust . . . you did an excellent job in that area." She sneered at him with undisguised contempt in her voice.
"If we're going to dig up past transgressions, you'd better look closer to home . . . you were sent in to debunk his work. Did you tell Section Chief Blevins where to shove it when he asked you to spy on your fellow agent? Don't try your Saint Scully routine on me . . . it won't work."
"Fuck you, sir! You were behind my abduction . . . you bastard!"
Skinner sighed. "I most certainly was not! I requested that you be transferred. I didn't know about their plans to abduct you until after the fact. Afterwards, I was the one who got you returned . . . I have supported the X-Files ever since." Skinner felt a headache coming on as he clenched his teeth together to keep a few nasty comments from escaping.
"What about Mulder's father? That happened after my return. We have you dead to rights there . . . smoking gun and all."
"Why would I want to deny that I killed Bill Mulder. The consortium gave me a choice between killing Bill Mulder or letting Fox be sacrificed to their experiments," Skinner stated tiredly.
Krycek saw the strain on his older brother's face; he didn't want anymore stress on him because he needed Skinner's help to rescue Fox. He interrupted, "Enough! You are not going with us, Scully. I'm sorry, but I need Skinner's help. I can't do it without him and you won't work with him. Right now, Fox is all that matters to me!"
"Give me a minute to pack my bag," Krycek told Skinner.
Scully stood fuming. She knew Krycek was right and some of Skinner's arguments had started to make sense. Then again, there was this new development. Maybe finding out that Skinner was his brother had clouded Krycek's mind.
She stood silently holding her tongue as the men grabbed their bags and headed out the door. Her brother stood by her side. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Frohike strolled up to them. "So, nice pad . . . which room's mine?" he asked lightly, trying to relieve the tension.
Boris looked down at him, shrugged his shoulders. "Americans! Come along little man, I'll show you."
***
Moscow
Friday, January 1
11:00 a.m.Mulder came slowly awake, he felt disoriented . . . there was a warm body pressed against his left side and a hand rested intimately on his stomach. He turned his head slowly and squinted with sleep encrusted eyes at the person lying beside him. Slava . . . it all came crashing back to him, the repeated rapes, being stabbed, dying . . . fuck. He brought his hand up to his face and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Looking around the room, he noticed the door to the bathroom. He slowly eased himself away from Slava, trying not to wake him he got out of bed.
Mulder walked into the bathroom and turned on the lights. He used the toilet, flushed, and washed his hands. Splashing cold water on his face, he tried to clear away the gritty sand from his eyes. He stood back and stared at his nude body in the mirror, reaching up, he traced the small scar that still remained.
Slava startled awake, Fox was no longer beside him, causing him to briefly panic . . . until he saw the light coming from the bathroom doorway. He let out a slow shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding, rose, and went into the bathroom.
Mulder stood nude in front of the sink, his eyes met Slava's in the mirror. The Cossack walked up behind him, wrapping his muscular arms around the agent's lithe, sleep-warmed body. Mulder consciously pulled away, but Slava held him tighter their bodies firmly pressed together. The agent placed his hands over the Russian's arms where the larger man had them locked around his body. Slava leaned down, kissing and sucking the side of Mulder's throat until there was a small red mark. "You gave me quite a scare this morning, moi krasivy Fox," he murmured into Mulder's ear as his early morning erection pressed into the small of the agent's back.
Slava turned the agent around to face him. Trailing an index finger along Mulder's face, he traced a path from the agent's cheekbone to his lips. Then he traced down under Mulder's chin, using his finger to tilt the FBI man's head up Slava brought his lips down over Mulder's mouth.
The Cossack thrust his tongue in tasting and exploring the heated depths and pushed in further. He licked the ridged top of the agent's mouth and stroked his tongue against the younger man's. Mulder felt his body going slack from the lack of oxygen making its way to his lungs. Slava tightened his hold around the agent's body as he broke the kiss. He smiled down at Mulder, touching the rapidly fading scar on the agent's chest he marveled at the near perfect skin that only a few short hours ago was bruised and torn.
"I have a full day planned for us, moi Fox. Yori will be here shortly to shave and groom you. Then my tailors are coming to take your measurements, and I want to give you a tour of my business. I'm sure you will find it all extremely interesting." Slava smiled excitedly, anxious to impress his Fox with his wealth and power.
Slava turned when he heard a voice being cleared behind him. "Excuse me, Tsar."
"Yori, come in, this is moi Fox. I want you to give him your full treatment: manicure, pedicure, massage, and shave." The Cossack held Mulder against his chest as he explained what he wanted done to Yori. He ran his hand over Mulder's chest and down to his pubic hair as he told Yori what he wanted shaved.
Yori went into the bedroom and came back with a white, velour robe, which had been Dmitry's. He handed it to the agent who took it gratefully and put it on. "Come, we will go to the salon."
"You'll be in good hands with Yori, Fox. I have some business to conduct, but I will be back when my tailors arrive."
Mulder followed Yori out of the bedroom, down a hallway, and into the foyer. The two n'thrals who stood guard in front of the elevator came instantly to attention, staring lustfully after the agent as he walked past following Yori.
Yori couldn't help but notice the way his boss treated his new slave or the look of tenderness in Slava's eyes as he held Mulder in his arms. Yori was a clairvoyant, a fact he had kept to himself. He found it useful to read Slava's needs and expectations, making himself invaluable to his employer. Slava wasn't even aware how easily Yori could get inside his head. Clairvoyants were much better at telepathy than sorcerers. But what had Yori's curiosity piqued was what Slava was thinking as he held the gorgeous younger man.
The handsome Cossack wanted to please the younger man and make him happy. These weren't Slava's usually selfish thoughts, he wasn't even thinking of the agent as his property. Slava thought of him as an equal, as a lover and a partner. Yori smiled, this was very useful information to have.
Yori took the agent into a large room with a barber chair and sink. There was a massage table, and an open shower with a retractable, hand-held sprayer. At the other end of the room was a built-in sauna.
Yori led Mulder over to the shower and took the robe from him. The Russian was shaped like a large bear he was as tall as the agent was, but broader and stronger.
Yori walked over to the counter and returned with a pink bottle. Mulder stared at it with contempt; it was a bottle of hair removal lotion for sensitive skin. "Don't I get a say in this?" he muttered backing away from the Russian.
"No, Nikolai Slava has the only say in anything around here, and he wants your body hairless. Don't worry, this is totally painless -- definitely not as painful as waxing, and the hair will grow back finer, not course like from shaving."
When Mulder attempted to avoid him, Yori issued an ultimatum. "If you do not stand still, Fox, I will have to get one of the Neanderthal guards to hold you."
"Goddamnit! Okay, I'll stand still . . . I don't want one of those things touching me! And don't call me Fox! It's Mulder," he growled, realizing there was no way to avoid this new humiliation.
Yori opened the bottle and applied the lotion over the agent's pubic hair. Then he coated the Mulder's legs with the lotion. "Lift up your arms," Yori requested and he applied the lotion under the agent's armpits, and then to his chest.
"There, now we have to wait five minutes." Yori walked over and set the timer on the counter. He was happy the young man had fallen for his ruse to bring in a n'thral. Mulder was unaware that Slava would not allow anyone, other than himself to touch him, and in particular he would never allow a Neanderthal anywhere near Mulder.
After five minutes had passed the timer went off. Yori walked back over to the shower and pulled down the retractable shower sprayer and turned on the water. When it got to comfortable temperature, he sprayed the agent's body washing the lotion and hair down the drain.
Yori looked him over carefully, making sure he didn't miss any hair. Satisfied, he grabbed a bar of soap and wash cloth, handing it to the FBI man. He placed the shower sprayer back onto the wall, positioned it, and turned on the water. "You can wash yourself, Mulder. Afterwards, I'll shave your face and wash and trim your hair."
Mulder did as he was told. His skin felt weird, running his hands over his legs now totally hairless. He only hoped it would grow back, but with the way his luck was running, he'd probably never have body hair again. He glared angrily at the back of Yori's head the man was completely covered in thick body hair, including a full beard.
When he finished washing, Yori handed him a towel to dry himself off with and had him put back on the robe. He sat in the barber's chair and Yori washed and trimmed his hair, then shaved the stubble from his face.
"I'm surprised you didn't use your fucking lotion on my face, too?" Mulder snarled sarcastically at the large hairy man.
"I didn't want to chance getting any on your thick head of hair. The Tsar would have been very angry if you came back with a bald spot," he answered seriously.
After he finished shaving Mulder, the Russian decided he didn't need a pedicure or a manicure, the young man's hands and feet were already perfectly manicured. Yori had him hop up on the massage table and gave him a long soothing massage, admiring the agent's well toned, perfect body. Too bad the agent couldn't sexually arouse him; Slava had taken care of that when he first came to work for him. The Cossack did not want another man around any of his beautiful slaves, so he had him castrated against his will. He wished he had known what he was getting into, before accepting this job. At the time, Slava had male and female slaves.
Yori finished with the massage and handed Mulder the robe to put back on. He then walked the agent back to Slava's bedroom. Slava was waiting for them with two other men. There was a small stool in the middle of the floor.
"Fox, come let me take a look at you."
Slava removed the agent's robe and Mulder turned a bright shade of red, embarrassed to be standing naked in front of four fully clothed men. All looked him over with admiration in their eyes. The Cossack ran a hand over Mulder's body, enjoying the feel of the agent's hairless chest, running it down to his groin. "Good work, Yori."
"Fox, these are my tailors . . . step up on the stool, they are going to take your measurements. They will have a tuxedo ready for you by tomorrow. I have a special surprise in store for you tomorrow evening."
Mulder looked over at the bed, there were several garment bags, boxes, and bolts of fabric stacked. The older of the two men took his tape measure out and proceeded to take the agent's measurements, while the younger man wrote them down. The young tailor seemed nervous and kept shifting uncomfortably. Mulder glanced down at the bulge in the younger man's pants, then looked over at Slava who was watching the older man take his measurements. It was good thing Slava hadn't noticed the younger man's arousal, he knew that would be unhealthy for the young tailor.
When the older tailor finished, he turned and spoke to the younger one in Russian. The young man walked over to the bed and selected a garment bag and several boxes, handing them to Slava. They exchanged a few words and packed their supplies, grabbed the remaining bags and fabrics, and quickly left.
"This suit should fit you until your tailored tuxedo arrives tomorrow. They will deliver the rest of your wardrobe by the end of the week." Nikolai handed Mulder the boxes and garment bags. Get dressed, moi Fox, then I will show you my operation here," he ordered softly.
Mulder stepped down from the stool and walked over to the bed, anxious to get some clothes on. He opened the boxes and found several pairs of silk boxers, ties, dress shoes, and a linen dress shirt. The garment bag contained an elegant black suit. Mulder quickly got dressed. The suit fit surprisingly well, emphasizing his tall lanky frame.
Slava smiled with delight. His Fox would garner much admiration from his employees and associates. He looked forward to showing off his lover. He walked up to Mulder, placing his hands on either side of the agent's hips he pulled him tightly against his body. Slava was five inches taller than the lanky agent, and his hard manhood pressed into the American's stomach. Mulder tried to step back, but the handsome Cossack held him in place and brought his mouth over Mulder's for a deep passionate kiss.
"Come, moi love," he murmured as he stepped back taking the agent's hand, he led him out of the bedroom and back into the foyer.
The large Neanderthal Captain was waiting for them as they stepped out. "My Tsar, everything is prepared as per your orders."
"Very good, Captain Mikhin."
Slava led Mulder into the elevator and the captain stepped in after them. Pushing the down button, they rode it two floors below, getting off. "This is where my offices are located, you will be accompanying me here daily, moi Fox."
They entered a large office space with a glass desk sitting on a raised platform. Mulder looked around, the blinds were closed and lights were on low. There was a laptop computer on the glass desk, a chair, and large pillow sitting on the floor. Across the room was a large sofa, a wet bar, and two other doors. Mulder assumed one of them led to a washroom. The opposite side of the room was a large built-in 200-gallon fish tank, filled with brightly colored tropical fish.
"Captain Mikhin, have Dmitry's pillow removed, and have a desk and chair brought in for Fox. Set it up over by the aquarium."
The captain stared at him in surprise; his Tsar always took a great deal of pleasure in humiliating his slaves and teaching them their proper place. He was treating this one as . . . his equal.
"Is there something wrong, Captain?" Slava asked.
"No, my Tsar."
"Then get moving . . . I expect you back within a half-hour."
"Yes, my Tsar." The captain quickly rushed from the room passing the four N'thral guards who protected the office.
"Good help is so hard to find." Slava sighed, watching Mulder as he walked over to the fish tank. "Ever own a fish aquarium?" he asked walking up behind the agent.
"Yes, but nothing close to this . . . this is incredible."
"Where I grew up we weren't near the ocean, only dry grasslands. I always dreamt of becoming a sailor or a deep sea diver." Slava stared dreamily at his colorful fish.
"What made you choose to become involved in organized crime?"
"I grew up . . . besides it was my family's business. I come from a long line of smugglers and extortionists." He placed his hand on the small of Mulder's back. "You will learn to love it here, moi Fox . . . I will get you whatever your heart desires."
Mulder knew better than to tell the ruthless gangster what his heart's desire was. He would need to win Slava's trust in order to escape. "I could use my medication, what have you done with it?"
"I threw it away. There is no need for you to take that with me protecting you. No one would dare lay a hand on you, moi love. I'm not like your other lovers . . . they were weak, and unable to give you the love and protection that I can."
Captain Mikhin returned carrying a chair he was followed by another n'thral carrying a glass desk that was identical to Slava's only smaller.
"Okay, moi Fox, let me show you the rest of our operation."
Our? Mulder looked at Slava, he'd been acting stranger and stranger, and his people were staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. He needed to figure out what was going on, he knew it was something significant.
***
On the Road
Friday, January 1
5:00 p.m.Skinner had insisted on driving and Krycek sat disgruntled next to his bossy older brother. He glanced over at Skinner several times trying to see if there was a family resemblance. He was trying to image the A.D. with hair when an unsettling thought occurred to him. "How old were you when you lost your hair?"
"My mid-thirties . . . why, are you concerned?" Skinner smirked.
"Well . . . yeah, after all it's the genes on the mother's side of the family that determines baldness. I wonder if our grandfather was bald? If he was then there's not much hope for me," Krycek sighed, trying to picture himself without hair.
"He was as bald as a cucumber," Skinner mocked, enjoying the younger man's discomfort.
"Damn, I wonder if Fox could cure baldness?" Krycek murmured.
Skinner looked over at him thinking Krycek was a few bricks short. "Why would you even think that Fox could cure baldness?" This conversation was becoming reminiscent of the ones he used to have with Mulder while discussing his X-files case reports.
"He has the ability to heal . . . but then you wouldn't know that. We only just discovered it ourselves," Krycek stated matter-of-fact.
"How the hell would I know it! You kidnaped Fox away from me! What else don't I know about *my* lover that you do?" Skinner snapped irritated.
Krycek glanced at him smugly. "Only that he likes to be on top . . . occasionally. Comes really hard from being rimmed. And he likes long, slow, wet kisses . . . "
Skinner in a very typical older brother's move cuffed Krycek on the back of his head.
"Hey!" Krycek yelped. He thought about slugging Skinner back, but he decided if the A.D. was really pissed-off, he wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap on the back of his head. Besides, he was satisfied at the rise he'd gotten out of the older man.
Several minutes passed and it had started snowing heavily, so Skinner flipped on the windshield wiper-blades and turned on the car headlights.
"There is something you should know about Fox . . . that has me concerned." Krycek replied hesitantly.
"What?" Skinner didn't like the way the young man sounded.
"We found out if Fox goes longer than 48 hours without having sex . . . he starts experiencing painful withdrawal symptoms. Fox figured the first time he had sex with you, it triggered a chemical reaction in his body. The pheromone drug seems to help extend the time period, but even the drug doesn't prevent the painful withdrawal symptoms for long."
"Goddamnit! Krycek, that bastard will use that against Fox to make him submit to him." Skinner slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
"We need to get Fox away from him before that happens."
Krycek sat silently for several minutes chewing on his bottom lip and fidgeting in his seat.
"Okay, what?" Skinner sighed.
"Have you noticed that ah . . . your sex drive increased since having sex with Fox?"
"No, I've always had a healthy libido . . . why, didn't you?"
"No, coming four to six times a night has always been quite normal for me," Krycek answered quickly.
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Just trying to make conversation, bro." Krycek leaned back and propped his feet up on the dashboard and listened to the tires sloshing against the wet pavement.
***
Moscow
Friday, January 1
7:00 p.m.With Captain Mikhin and three other guards close by, Slava showed Mulder his slave pens, and training areas below his building. The agent was becoming nauseous from the foul smell, and the human misery around him. He was grateful that he only saw men there, and no boys, or young teenagers.
"Where do you keep the children?" Mulder hissed losing what little grip he had left on his temper.
"I don't deal in slaves younger than twenty years old. I have no interest in profiting off the defenseless. I'm not a total monster, moi Fox." It was very important for Slava to have Mulder's acceptance.
Monster enough, Mulder thought in the small hidden area of his mind. "Don't you make enough money from your other enterprises? Why deal in slaves?"
"If not me, then it would be someone else. Besides, it gives me pleasure. Look at them, moi Fox. They are not our equals . . . they have been put on this earth to serve us."
The cages were all small: five by seven feet and five feet high with no room to stand. The cages contained only a mat and the men inside were naked wrapped only in thin blankets. It was cold down here; the concrete floors provided no warmth.
"They're human beings, Nikolai. Not merchandise!"
"But they are not like us . . . we have evolved above them."
"Are you telling me you don't deal in mutants?"
"I don't deal in sorcerers or clairvoyants . . . we are the new masters of this world."
All eyes were on Mulder as he walked through. Slava guided him to where the highest valued slaves were kept, the cells were larger, and actually had working toilets with running water.
Mulder knew it was pointless to go on arguing with this man. He was as bad as any psychopath he'd come across during his years as a profiler for the FBI. Mulder shuddered knowing that he would never be able to remove these images from his mind -- they would haunt him forever.
***
Just outside of Moscow
Friday, January 1
8:00 p.m.Kostya Danko hugged the nephew he hadn't seen in forty years. "Vladimir, it is so good to see you! You look exactly like your father, except for being bald. Your father had lots of hair like all of us Danko men do. But your mother's father, poor man, looked like a cue ball."
Skinner looked back at Krycek and smirked. "Uncle Kostya, call me Walter not Vladimir."
Kostya was a skinny man in his early seventies. He had a deeply lined face. He looked over at Krycek who stood just inside the doorway. A shadow crossed over the older man's features.
"Who is your friend, Walter?"
"Uncle Kostya, this is my half-brother Alexei Krycek."
"I thought as much . . . you look like your mother, young man. Aleksandra broke my brother's heart when she ran off with your father."
"Uncle, can you tell us what happened? We just found out about our relationship," Skinner asked.
"There isn't much to tell . . . Aleksandra met Ivan Krycek at work, she was his secretary. She ran off with him deserting her family. It was Ivan Krycek who helped Sergei leave the country with you and your sister. He didn't want to share Aleksandra's love with anyone, not even her children." Kostya had led them into his home as he was telling his story, he motioned for them to take a seat on the sofa.
"That explains a lot, Uncle. But why did my father lie to me about her being dead?"
"Walter, to him she was dead."
"Now, tell me why have you come back to Russia?"
"I came to find my lover, Uncle Kostya. Fox ran off with Alex and I came to take Fox back home with me."
Kostya glared over at Krycek. "Just like your father, aren't you, young man? Now, Walter, if your lover willingly left with him why would he come back to you? And, why would you still want him?"
"He was tricked into leaving me and we've already reconciled. But, Alex wouldn't allow him to return to me." Skinner glared over at Krycek.
"Okay, so where is your lover?"
"Nikolai Slava has him."
"Slava! You might as well forget about your lover, Walter. No one gets away from Slava once he gets his hands on them . . . he is too dangerous for you to go up against. Go back to America."
"I'm not leaving without Fox, Uncle. It is Nikolai Slava that is going to regret ever crossing my path! He signed his death warrant the moment he touched Fox," Skinner snarled. His uncle backed off; he had never seen such hatred or anger before.
"Calm down, Walter. If Slava has your lover, he most likely has sent him to one of his slave pens. There is an underground slave auction he holds once a month. Your cousin Anton could find out the location for you. If your lover is in Slava's possession, he will most likely be up for sale at the auction."
"Why is this allowed to go on?" Skinner asked disgustedly.
"Too many corrupt politicians and military personnel, Slava has quite a few of them on his payroll. His power and wealth has increased to a point that now there is no one strong enough to challenge him. Even the FSB is afraid of him."
"Well, we're not! That bastard is going down!" Krycek snapped.
Kostya stared between the two angry young men . . . and shook his head. They were both going to their deaths -- no one took on Slava and lived. He saw it was pointless to continue to argue with them, maybe Anton could talk some sense into them.
"You both must be exhausted, you can share the sofa, it pulls out into a bed . . . I'll get you some blankets. Tomorrow, I'll take you to see your cousin." Kostya left the room and came back with a large blanket.
Neither man liked the idea of sleeping together, but they were both exhausted. "Just stay on your side," Skinner advised as they finished making up the sofa bed. They stripped down to their underwear and Skinner got in on his side of the bed. Krycek sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out the letter Fox had left for him. He wanted to reread it before going to sleep.
"Put out the lights, Krycek."
"In a sec."
Skinner looked over at him, lifted himself up so he could see what the younger man was reading. "Hey, that's Mulder's handwriting . . . hand it over."
"No, it's personal."
"Nothing is *personal* where Fox is concerned. Show it to me."
Krycek glared at him and handed him the letter, sighing.
Skinner had a shattered expression on his face when he got through reading it. "He's in love with you."
"Yes, but he's choosing to go back to you."
Skinner lay down on his back, contemplating Mulder's letter. The sadness in the words he had written made Skinner's heart break. He didn't want to see his lover miserable. "We're going to have to discuss this with Fox when we get him back."
Krycek turned the lights out and got in under the covers. "Yeah, but he'd still be safer in the U.S. with you."
"I want him to be happy, not pining after you. We'll have to work this out," Skinner sighed.
"When we get him back. Skinner, are you going to see if you can make telepathic contact with him? We're near enough to Moscow -- if he's there."
"I'm going to wait until later . . . I don't want to chance being detected. I don't think it would be wise to let Fox know that we're here. We're going to need the element of surprise, if what you've said about Slava's true, he'd be able to read Mulder's mind. I'll sneak in, check on Fox, then sneak out."
"Bro, do you think you'll be able to control your temper if you discover Fox is being mistreated? Strong emotions will instantly alert Slava to your presence."
"No, but I'll pull out instantly . . . so I won't alert the bastard."
"Good, wake me when you're ready to sneak in," Krycek said. He turned on his side facing away from the older man.
Skinner stared at the younger man's back, they'd got through a whole conversation and he wasn't tempted to smack him even once.
***
Moscow
Saturday, January 2
2:00 a.m.Mulder stirred awake. He was uncomfortable. He was hot and sticky and most of Slava's body was lying on top of him. He opened his eyes and tried to wiggle out from under the large Cossack, but it was futile. He didn't want to chance waking Slava again, so he laid still and hoped the larger man would roll off him on his own.
Mulder felt a faint brush against his mind; he'd had enough people contact him using telepathy to know what it was. *Who's there?* he asked telepathically, but received no answer.
Slava stirred. Mulder stopped as he felt the presence leave. The Cossack came instantly awake. "Who were you talking to?" he shouted and grabbed the agent's face between his two large hands, looking menacingly into his eyes. "WHO?" His body pressed Mulder's into the mattress.
"No one, I thought someone was trying telepathy . . . but I was wrong . . . there was no one there," Mulder panted finding it difficult to breathe, he knew it would have been useless to lie directly to the sorcerer.
Slava smoothed his hands over the sides of the agent's head looking deeper into his eyes. Satisfied that Fox was telling him the truth, he kissed his perfect lips. "Sorry, moi Fox. I've been concerned that Alexei might try something, but I would be able to feel his presence."
"Now as long as we're both up." Slava lowered his hand and placed it between the agent's legs, caressing up his thighs. Mulder sighed knowing it was totally futile to resist.
***
"DAMN! FUCKING BASTARD!" Skinner was out of bed, storming angrily around the room. Krycek had been sitting up watching him as he made contact with Fox.
"Ssh, Skinner, you'll wake the whole fucking apartment building." Krycek came up to him and put a hand on his arm. After the A.D. regained control over his temper, Krycek asked, "What has he done with Fox?" He knew it must be bad for the stoic older man to lose control.
"Slava's forcing Fox to share his bed . . . he's . . . raped him several times already. The bastard's been using mind-control on him to force him to submit. Fox really hates mind-control, he considers it a form of rape . . . on his mind."
Krycek flushed bright red, how could he have been so stupid and selfish? He never should have used mind-control on Fox; deep down he knew that his lover despised it. "Did you get a location?" he asked anxiously.
"Yeah, they're in an office building in downtown Moscow. The son-of-a-bitch has his living quarters on the top floors and that's where he's holding Fox."
"We'll have to devise a plan for getting Fox away from him. We'll need to know what the security is for the building before we even attempt to break in. Were you able to get anymore information out of Mulder's mind?" Krycek had started pacing excitedly.
"Quite a bit." Skinner sighed sadly at the images in his lover mind. Fox had gone through so many traumas in life -- more than one man should go through. Now he had a whole new set of emotional wounds to add to his list.
"What is it?" Krycek asked, seeing the sadness on the older man's face.
"Slava gave Fox a tour of his building. In the basement he's keeping the men he plans on selling at tonight's auction. He has them caged like animals and guarded by an army of n'thrals. Slava is taking him to the auction tonight, but I couldn't find out the location from Mulder's mind."
"The auction will probably be our best chance of getting to Fox. There will be too many minds for Slava to easily pick out ours. Hopefully your cousin will know the location when we talk to him this morning."
"C'mon, Krycek, we better sit down and plan out how we are going to combine our powers to defeat Slava."
***
Moscow
Saturday, January 2
9:00 a.m.Yori was again tending to Mulder, there wasn't really a lot for him to do. The agent was perfect, besides giving him a shave and massage there was nothing else he needed.
"Mulder, can I ask you a question?"
Mulder was lying on his stomach as Yori massaged his shoulders. "Hmm, what?" he murmured, feeling the tension leaving his body.
"How did you do it?"
"Do what, Yori?"
"Wrap the Tsar around your little finger."
"I don't understand what you mean. I hardly have that bastard wrapped around my finger. I wouldn't be here if I did -- I'd be back in the U.S."
"He treats you with reverence. The Tsar treats you as his equal, not as his slave. You seem to have an unusual affect on him, but you really aren't aware of it are you?"
"No. I wouldn't know how he would normally treat his other . . . captives?" Mulder started to mull over what Yori had told him. He remembered that Henderson, on their second encounter, had treated him much the same way as Slava was now. He realized it might be another aspect of the mutation. A sudden thought hit him, making him ill, what if it was because of his mutation that Walter fell in love with him? With Alex, he was sure that it was love, because the younger man came to D.C. to ask him to go back to Russia with him. He was sure Walter liked him, but did he really love him? How could he find out?
"Yori . . . would you like to leave Slava?"
"No one leaves Slava . . . except in a box."
"I'm willing to pay you and take you to America. Two million dollars would give you a whole new lease on life."
"That is a tempting offer, Mulder, but Slava will know what you are planning by reading your thoughts. Then I would end up very dead."
"He doesn't have to find out. I can hide some of my thoughts from him. But, what about you . . . he would read it in your thoughts. Damn, I thought it would work."
"How are you able to hide your thoughts?"
"My lover is a sorcerer. I discovered how while training him to use his powers. I can't hide all of them, but I can lock away a few."
"Can I test you?"
"Okay, but why?"
"I'll explain in a moment. Lock up all the thoughts about your family."
Mulder looked at him for a second, then concentrated. "Okay."
"What was your mother's name?"
"You tell me?"
Yori smiled and tried to read the agent's thoughts -- all thoughts of his mother were gone from his mind. "Very good, Mulder, I think we can do business."
"You're a clairvoyant?"
"Yes."
That was even better than he'd hoped; now he had an ally. If he could get out of this building, he just might be able to get out of the country . . . with Yori's help.
"Slava's taking me with him to the auction tonight. Do you know where it is going to be? It would be the best chance I'll get at escaping, with all the people that will be there."
"I'm helping to clean up some of the men that are to be auctioned off tonight. I'd have preferred to wait until the Tsar goes away on business, but he'd probably take you with him. Okay, we'll try tonight."
***
Moscow
Saturday, January 2
11:20 a.m.Anton Danko stood in front of a street map of Moscow. He was the same age as his American cousin, who was standing next to him. Anton had thick wavy black hair, brown eyes, and a droopy mustache. He was dressed in an off the rack suit that fit him poorly and wore a shoulder holstered gun.
Skinner hadn't been aware that Anton worked for the FSB (formally the KGB). He was going to contact the acquaintances he had made working for the FBI, but it was better being able to deal with a family member.
They had been going over the map for possible ways in and out of the building where Slava held his auctions. It was a tightly guarded structure and only those clients that had been pre-approved were allowed admittance.
"Anton, if you know about this despicable act that is going to take place tonight, why don't you raid the place and arrest all the participants?"
"Slava has too many high-level friends in our government and military. Some of them will probably be at the auction tonight. It is suicide to go up against him . . . the last people who tried are dead. There weren't even enough left to bury. I'm only helping you, Walter, because we are family. But, I ask you again to reconsider, let this man go, find yourself another lover."
"Anton, I will die first. There is no way in hell that I would leave my lover in that monster's hands. Fox Mulder means more to me than my own life."
"Fox Mulder? You mean FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder?" Anton asked surprised.
"Yes, does it make a difference?" Skinner was getting agitated at the lack of help he was receiving. He wanted to raid that place, but he couldn't do it with just three men.
"Of course it makes a difference . . . Agent Fox Mulder is famous. I could get many men to help just for the chance of meeting him."
"You're telling me that men would risk their lives just to meet Agent Mulder?" Skinner asked flabbergasted.
"Skinner, Fox is becoming a living legend in many parts of the world, since the government declassified the X-Files," Krycek informed him. After taking in Skinner's puzzled expression he added, "You weren't aware of any of this, were you? When we get Fox back, I have some magazines to show you."
"Yes, Alexei is right. Agent Mulder is legendary, there are men that work here that would lay down their lives for him."
Things were starting to look up. Skinner glanced at the map, if they could come up with another twelve men they would have all the exits covered. Then it would be up to Krycek and him to go in and retrieve Fox. "How many men can you get, Anton?"
"We still have to keep this hush-hush, but I'm positive of at least fifteen that we can trust."
"Okay, Anton, gather as many men as you can trust. Is there a secure place we could meet before this evening?"
"There's a old vacant warehouse near where the auction is going to take place. It's not close enough to arouse suspicion. I'll arrange for all the men to meet there at 4:00 p.m., here I'll write down the address." Anton grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down the address handing it to Skinner.
Skinner shook his cousin's hand. "Thank you, Anton, we'll meet you at 4:00 this afternoon. Come along, Krycek," Skinner growled as he left.
***
Moscow
Saturday, January 2
7:40 p.m."Please hold still, Mr. Fox," the tailor begged as he finished the last minute alterations.
Slava stood in quiet admiration, watching the elder tailor work his art on his lover. Fox looked magnificent in the black tuxedo with a forest green cummerbund, emerald buttons, and cuff links. The green from the buttons and cummerbund enhanced the agent's hazel eyes that were now a brilliant shade of green, glowing with an inner light.
When the tailor finished, Slava came up to them. "Nice job, Ivan," he complemented, handing the older man a tip, which he pocketed as he left the room.
"You look breathtaking, moi krasivy Fox." He kissed him tenderly and pulled a long box out of his pocket, which he handed to the agent.
Mulder sighed looking at it, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be a damned ring, but the box was larger than a ring box. He opened it and pulled out an expensive Rolex watch.
"I wanted to mark the first time we went out in public together, moi Fox. Do you like it?"
"Yes, it's very nice." It was nice, he'd always admired this watch, and no doubt Slava retrieved that piece of information from his thoughts. Mulder would never have spent the money on it for himself; it was far too extravagant.
"Here, let me put it on you." Slava took the watch and strapped it around the agent's wrist. "Mm, it's perfect. Come along, moi love, you will learn to love these auctions as much as I do." He guided Mulder out of the bedroom toward the elevators.
"Captain Mikhin, we are ready to leave. Are all the guards in position?"
"Yes, my Tsar."
They got onto the waiting elevator and headed down to the underground parking garage with the n'thral Captain. Mulder had been a bit out of it the first time he was down here and looked around the empty parking garage curiously. There were only two large limousines one had the same n'thral driver from their drive down from St. Petersburg. He stood at attention with the car door held open as he waited for them to climb in.
Slava had Mulder get in before him, a courtesy he'd never given anyone before. After Slava climbed in, the driver shut the door and the captain got in the passenger seat. As the driver steered the car out of the garage, three large sedans pulled out, two behind the limo and one in front. Mulder looked out the mirrored windows at them, noting the large occupants in each car.
"Our security detail, Fox. You don't need to worry about your safety; I won't let anything happen to you. I can personally handle any situation that might arise at the auction. The six n'thrals are mainly for show, they let people know how powerful I am."
The limousine drove to a rundown area past several burnt out buildings. It finally pulled up in front of a fenced-in building, there were two n'thrals guarding the gate. "Nikolai, do you ever hire anyone besides n'thrals for your security force?" Mulder asked, he wanted to find out everything he could about Slava's security.
"No, n'thrals make the best guards. They never question orders, their mere presence is intimidating, and they are extremely bloodthirsty."
The driver pulled the limousine in front of the main doors to the building and the Three large sedans pulled up behind it. Two n'thrals climbed out of each and took positions on either side of the limo. There was already quite a crowd present, the parking lot was packed with cars. Several of the customers stood around outside talking, waiting for the show to begin. They all glanced up at the limo as the n'thral open the door letting his employer out. Slava reached his hand back for Mulder, anxious to start showing him off.
Mulder climbed out reluctantly, he was nervous knowing that the Cossack had planned to make him the center of attention. He didn't welcome the looks he was going to be receiving tonight. At least Slava had a jealous streak and wouldn't allow anyone to touch him, not even to shake his hand. He had noticed that during the tour he had of Slava's business yesterday.
Slava wrapped an arm possessively around his waist as they walked inside the building. Mulder realized that it had once been an old theater as they walked into the lobby. He felt like he'd stepped into another world, clean and elegant, it was completely different inside from the rundown exterior. Most of the men milling around the lobby stopped and stared as they entered. They were all wearing expensive clothing and jewelry; even the n'thrals were flaunting their wealth to the others present.
Slava tightened his hold on the agent, pulling him closer. "Look at the envy on their faces, moi Fox," he whispered into the agent's ear.
There were waiters walking through the crowd serving champagne, one came over to them. Slava removed one glass, after taking a sip he handed it to Mulder. Which caused a murmur to go throughout the crowd, it was the slave who would test the drink for his master, not vise versa.
Mulder took a tentative sip; he wanted to keep a clear head tonight. He couldn't afford to get even a little bit tipsy, but he couldn't afford to offend Slava either. The man was clearly in his glory showing him off like some prized trophy. An older gentleman approached them. Mulder recognized him immediately, he'd never knew his name, had always thought of him as the well-manicured man. He knew some of the consortium had gotten away and were still operating in secret, but he had never expected to run into one, anytime soon.
"Mr. Slava, it is a pleasure to be doing business with you again, sir." He shook Slava's hand smiling pleasantly, before turning his attention to Mulder. "Mr. Mulder, you're looking well, life must be agreeing with you." Mulder couldn't help but notice the glint of amusement in the older man's eyes.
"Mr. Jones, you and Fox know each other?"
"We're old acquaintances. Isn't that right, Mr. Mulder?"
"Yes, why are you here?"
"We need some new test subjects and Mr. Slava's merchandise has proven to be of excellent quality."
"That's . . . sick . . . they're human beings . . . " Mulder bit back the rest of his response as Slava's fingers dug into his waist.
*Control yourself, Fox.* Slava told him telepathically.
*Sorry.* Mulder answered weakly back.
*You must overcome this sense of compassion you feel, moi Fox.*
*That would not be possible.*
*In time, you will, eventually you will come to enjoy the power you have over these mere humans.*
Jones watched their silent conversation with envy. He would pay for the ability to read minds, but he had remained a normal human after the virus was released. "Mr. Slava, I look forward to doing business with you in the future. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mr. Mulder." He reached out a hand to shake the agent's, but found his wrist grabbed by a much larger hand. He looked over his shoulder at the massive n'thral who held him.
"Mr. Jones, no one touches Fox except me. In the future, please keep that in mind," Slava warned and nodded at Captain Mikhin who released the well-manicured man's arm.
"I apologize it will not happen again," he said rubbing his sore wrist as he walked quickly away. Agent Mulder was still of interest to the consortium. They wanted desperately to get their hands on him, both for revenge for his interference in their agenda and to discover more about his mutation. They had four of the twenty-five men known to have the immortal strain of the mutation in their labs. Two had died during testing to see just how much their bodies could withstand, they found out total incineration would kill them.
The consortium had been unable to break through the FBI security surrounding the agent. After Mulder had left with Krycek, they had hoped to track the agent down and claim him for their experiments. With him now in that damned Cossack's hand, it would be virtually impossible to get to Mulder.
Slava guided the agent with a protective arm around his waist up the stairs toward their private box. He noted the hungry looks and the erections tenting the pants of everyone who was present, particularly the n'thrals. Because Mulder was off the pheromone medication he was causing instant arousal in all those around them.
The handsome Cossack had Mulder sit on his right side in the balcony box. It looked out over the stage and ramp that had been built out into the audience. The place was packed. There must have been over five hundred people in the theater. Theirs was the only balcony box and it allowed the audience an unobstructed view of the two elegantly dressed men. All eyes glanced up at them as Slava leaned over and claimed the agent's mouth in a deeply passionate kiss. He's mine -- eat your hearts out, he thought with pride.
Two men in the back of the mass of people glared up with hate filled eyes. Both were trying to gain control over the desire to destroy the man touching their lover. The older of the two had a better grip on his temper; he touched the arm of his younger companion, speaking silently. *Calm down, Krycek. I won't be able to maintain my shield around you if you don't . . . then Slava will sense your presence. *
*Sorry, brat. But, I call first dibs on killing that bastard!*
*Don't call me that.*
*Hey, it seems fitting. Besides, I've always wanted to have an older brother,* Krycek quipped.
*Don't call me brat . . . it may be the Russian word for brother, but if Fox hears it we'll never hear the end of it.*
*Oh yeah, you're right, he'd have a field day with it.*
*Oh and, Alex, as your older brother it is my right to kill that bastard first . . . you can have what's left.*
Yori had been standing in the back of the crowd and overheard the silent conversation pass between the two disguised men. So that was Alexei Krycek, he remembered Slava ranting and raving about the young man years ago. Alexei had told the Cossack to go to hell when he had made a pass at him. That was about five years ago and it still angered Slava that his advances had been rebuffed.
He wondered who the other man was, his thoughts were harder to read, and he couldn't make out his features under the thick fur hat and overcoat with its collar turned up. This was a blessing in disguise, literally. He now had allies to help him get Mulder away from the Tsar. He slowly eased his way over to the two men, keeping an eye on Slava's security force.
He stood behind them as the first slave was brought out on stage. The slave was a white male in his twenties, sandy brown hair and extremely skinny. He was naked and had a collar around his neck. He was led down the ramp to be viewed by all parties . . . he was shaking visibly with fear. Slava always saved his best slaves for last and the crowd knew this, so bidding usually started low for the first hour. Most of the buyers were waiting until the better merchandise was brought out later in the evening.
While the crowd was occupied, Yori used telepathy to speak to the two men in front of him. *Mulder hired me to help him escape. You are here for the same purpose, maybe we can work together?*
*Who are you?* Krycek asked angry that their cover was already blown.
*Don't worry . . . no one else is aware of your mission, Comrade Krycek. I am Yori, I work for the Tsar.*
*How do we know we can trust you?* Skinner growled.
*Do you have a choice?*
*Okay, but keep out of our way.*
The auction moved along slowly, eighty slaves had been purchased by 1:00 a.m. and there were over fifty remaining. Mulder glanced dispassionately down at the mulling crowd. Slava hadn't left his side all evening, touching him all throughout the night. Mulder knew he was causing the entire crowd to become aroused, which was driving up the prices of Slava's slaves.
"Nikolai, I need to use the restroom." If he could get Slava away from his bodyguards he just might be able to knock him out and get away. Yori was suppose to have a car waiting and had promised to be watching for him.
Slava stood up and stretched. "Come along, Fox, I'll take you. I could use a break." Slava pulled the agent to his feet, but wouldn't release his hand; instead he used it to pull the agent against his body.
"I want you so fucking bad right now, moi love." He moaned and pressed his hardness into the agent's stomach, bringing his hands behind Mulder's back, he groped his buttocks. "Let's grab a quickie while we're in the men's room?"
Mulder wrapped his hands around Slava's neck and pulled him down into a long, deep kiss that left the Cossack breathless. "You're right, Nikolai, I'm beginning to enjoy watching your auction. All those hot naked bodies are making me hungry for yours," Mulder purred into the Cossack's ear and licked his earlobe then catching it between his teeth he gently nipped it.
Slava moaned lust shot straight to his groin as Mulder's teeth excited him further, then his lover's words sank in, Fox wanted him! He hugged the agent tighter smiling into his silk hair. Mulder looked at his hand that was wrapped around Slava's neck, he glanced at his little pinky -- yes he definitely had him wrapped around it.
*What the hell is Fox doing?* Skinner muttered, watching the two men wrapped in a deep passionate kiss up in the balcony.
*Fuck . . . how the hell should I know?* Krycek growled equally upset.
*Mulder is leading the Tsar on, he's trying to distract him so he can make a break for it. Why? What did you think he was doing?* Yori asked amused by the men's irrational jealousy.
*Ah, nothing . . . I was thinking that ah . . . he was trying to . . . distract him.* Krycek blushed.
*I suggest we get ready . . . Mulder will need our help shortly,* Yori advised.
They watched as the two men left the balcony, followed by their n'thral bodyguards. The auction had been halted the moment the Cossack stood. The crowd took it as an impromptu break and started milling around. The few that had already made their purchases went to pay the bill and pick up their merchandise.
The three men passed a large crowd gathered around the corner of the theater. Several of the n'thrals couldn't wait to get their purchases home, and were fucking the slaves to the jeers and catcalls of the men around them. Skinner felt rage at the atrocities he was witnessing, but held his anger in check, and no one paid attention to the three men as they left the room, going the same direction that Slava and his lover had taken. They spied the Cossack's bodyguards entering a restroom, they watched as two men were roughly thrown out. Mulder and Slava then entered while the six menacing n'thrals remained outside.
Once inside Slava fell on the agent hungrily, pulling on the buttons to his pants. Mulder took in the whole room in a heartbeat . . . he only had one chance, so he had to make it count. He steered their bodies over to the small window above the covered trashcan. The trashcan had a heavy steel lid on it, not like the light aluminum most American cans had.
Slava succeeded in unfastening the agent's pants; he was so deep in the throes of lust that he didn't anticipate his lover's move until it was too late. Mulder kneed him hard in the groin, when he doubled over in pain the agent had the heavy lid off the trashcan and smashed it over his head. Blood covered the back of the lid as Mulder dropped it and pushed open the small window, crawling out just as the n'thral guards stormed in.
Krycek raced out the side door as he felt Mulder leaving through the window. Skinner and Yori followed close behind. Captain Mikhin ordered two of the n'thrals to remain and protect Slava as he and the other four dashed out of the room after the agent.
Mulder sprinted toward the parking lot. If Yori weren't around he'd have to steal a car on his own; so far he was making it. But his luck didn't hold, turning down the first aisle he ran straight into several men in black who were with their consortium boss Mr. Jones.
"Well, Agent Mulder, I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Grab him!" he ordered. The MIB aimed their guns at Mulder, and as he backed away, they branched out to cut off his escape. Behind him more footsteps came running.
"Fox, wait!"
"Alex? No! Look out!" He shouted as he saw the men raise their weapons toward Krycek's direction. As the young man came tearing around the corner -- they opened fire. Hitting the younger man countless times. Krycek had been so intent on catching up to Mulder that he hadn't been using his powers and was taken by complete surprise. Blood poured from the countless bullet holes as Krycek slumped to the ground, going completely still, his life slowly drained from his body into the hard frozen ground below. Mulder watched in shock as his lover's chest stopped moving, and his heart stopped beating.
***