Disclaimers:  Still playing in someone else's sandbox, but this time it's Chris Carter's, and 1013 Productions.  No money being made.  Just practicing, honest.
Rated:  PG-13 for implied violence.  I don't know what to call this thing.  UST?  RST?  Who knows.  Definitely an alternate universe, though.

I Can See Now

As always, the grey-haired man stood surrounded by smoke.  This time, though, it was the smoking ruin of his plans, of the aliens' hope, of the rebels' final, successful attack.  A convulsive shudder escaped his control, ran through his muscles, although he'd heard no sound behind him.

"You lost."

Cold, expressionless voice, not even gloating.  Rather than give his opponent the minor triumph of his last defeat, the Cigarette Smoking Man struck a match against a broken remnant of concrete and lit one last smoke.  "Yes, it would seem I did."

"Your allies fled... the ones who survived."

"They did."  Toneless himself, as if discussing a dreary day.  "We did what we thought best."

"For yourselves," the man behind him agreed calmly, apparently unconcerned by the fact.  "Bill Mulder at least wanted humankind to stay human.  You wanted to be in charge of whatever existed."

"Bill Mulder is dead, remember, Krycek?"

"I remember," said his assassin inexorably.  "His daughter's alive, you know.  She's even marginally sane, somehow."

"It ran in the family."  The past tense lay between them in the air, heavy as fool's gold, lethal as Black Oil to an unvaccinated human.

"I know, Paul," and that name drew a shocked, hissing breath from the Smoker.  "Oh, we found your name," Krycek told him.  "Frohike and Langly were... inspired.  They found everything.  I just wanted you to know.  There is nothing you did, no deal you made, that hasn't been revealed.  The last and least of your flunkies is rotting in a cell, hoping like hell that the lynch mob gets to them before a jury does."

"Yes, they would, wouldn't they?  So, where is the esteemed Director Skinner?  And AD Scully?  I wondered if they would benefit from our downfall."

"They don't know where you are," Krycek said quietly.  "This is between us.  Enjoying the cigarette?"

"My last, I assume?"

"Something like."

"So, this is the end, then."

"There were things you deserved," Krycek told him.  "A slow death, enough pain to match my arm, a few other minor details.  But some friends told me I'd regret it later.  I suppose I'll trust them."

"Ah.  A clean kill, Alex, for old times sake?"

"No.  For my sake.  But, old man, just for you?"

"I wondered where you had the salt for the wound.  What?"

"My name was never Alex Krycek.  I'm Alexei Nikolaivich Arntzen.   You remember my grandfather, the NKVD colonel?"  The sudden inhalation answered that.  "My father had five children; you missed one."

"He was a stubborn fool, your grandfather."

"Really?  We won, as he said we could."  The sharp, metallic rasp of a round being chambered punctuated that statement.  "Those friends told me something promising, Paul, something for you to think about before I kill you.  Everyone gets what they deserve, sooner or later.  The trick is to make sure that what you deserve is what you want."

"Death ends all things.  Remember?"

The Russian watched impassively.  "No.  It just deals the next hand."

<><><><><><><><><>

He walked out of the rubble that had once been a launch site, still hearing the gunshot echoing in his mind, still seeing the crumpled body lying in a pool of blood, unbreathing, pulseless -- Alexei had checked, had slit his throat and buried a knife in his heart, for Mulder's sake.  The bastard had come back once before.  Not this time.  Not ever again.

When he reached his helicopter, a second one sat beside it, a sleek black military issue.  Three concerned faces looked at him:  Samantha Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner.  Alexei sighed and stated, "The Gunmen found me."  A slow nod from Samantha answered that.  "I'm getting careless."

"You wanted to be found," Scully told him, her gentleness odd between the two of them, as if Alexei were very, very fragile.  "The Smoker?"

"Dead."  One blood-stained hand was held up for her inspection.  "I made sure this time."

Skinner nodded and handed him a handkerchief to clean the blood away.  "It's over, Alex."

Dark, thick eyelashes hid shockingly green eyes, then the man who had always been his own agent looked up again. "You won't see me again, Skinner."

Samantha Mulder glared at him.  "Alexei.  You haven't told me everything about my brother yet.  You don't get to vanish or die until you do."

His mouth twitched, a smile or a flinch, hard to be sure.  "You're the only one who uses that name," he pointed out almost mildly.  "And they knew Mulder better than I did."

"They knew Mulder; you knew Lisa.  I want all of him, Alexei."

"Find someone else," he told her, suddenly too tired to be gentle or kind to the last of the Mulders.  "I'm sick of poker; I'm going to find a different game to play."

He turned and walked to his own helicopter.  Behind him, he heard Skinner call, "All the charges have been dropped."

That drew a sharp laugh.  "Alex Krycek's dead, Skinner.  Bury him."

Alexei lost them in the forest, flying at insanely low altitudes, changing his path often, until he knew they were gone.  The whole time his mind planned ahead, automatically.  Where to change vehicles, how to access his formidable amounts of money, what name to take, how best to take down the remaining players in this obscene game.  Too many people had profited off the alien invasion, had helped the Smoker and his cronies, were responsible for Mulder's death.

"You're all coming down," he whispered to the console as he landed and abandoned the 'copter without regrets.  He was changing games all right; from poker to Battleship, maybe.  He would find them, and he would blow them out of the water.  No regrets, no recompense, no escape.

In the back of his mind, as always, Alexei heard music playing.  Usually it was simply company for him, but today the song was the same one he had heard, off and on, since he'd seen Fox Mulder lying dead, finally struck down by the Consortium for learning one dangerous thing too many.

And there's nothing more dangerous
Than a man with nothing to lose,
Nothing to live for,
And nothing to prove....

There were still plans to make, partnerships to shatter, people to kill.  Alexei Arntzen hadn't collected the full blood-price for Fox Mulder yet.  But he would.
 

~ ~ ~ finis 3/99 ~ ~ ~

Comments, Commentary, and Miscellanea:

1 - Lisa is Russian for Fox; corrected from original lisitsa which is the feminine.  Oops!

> 2 - The lyrics are from the Dead Can Dance song "I Can See Now" off the album Towards the Within.

3 - This is what happens when you combine cold medicine with that song.  And yes, this is definitely an alternate universe from my other stories.

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