MISPRISION

Misprision: (pronounced, miss-prizz-ee-on); adjective; Middle English, a mistake, misdirection or a misunderstanding, deliberate concealment or deflection in the release of information - from Old French 'mesprendre' to mistake, ... was still in common usage in 16th century England.

Chapter Nineteen

Langley and Byers were engrossed in the files of medical information they had open in front of them, but Frohike was looking through a box of the video tapes they had brought in from the van. Selecting one at random he inserted it into the player they had set up at the end of the room. The screen flickered into life and he found himself looking at a young Alex Krycek, probably about 15 years old, naked and circling warily to avoid the darting thrusts of a knife that was being wielded by ... Frohike shook his head and looked again, he was not deceived. There appeared to be two Alex Kryceks on screen, one naked one clothed. The one wearing clothes was wielding the knife, the naked Alex was unarmed, dirty and unkempt. He was thin, almost skeletal in appearance. The clothed Alex looked reasonably sleek and well cared for. He was moving well, skilfully, with an almost feline grace, whereas the naked Alex looked as though he could barely keep his feet. He was breathing hard but, though clearly tired and hot, he was not sweating - indicating that his exertions, his efforts at defending himself, had likely been over a long period of time. His poor physique and obvious fatigue in the end caused him to lose his footing at a crucial point and the clothed Alex's blade sank into his naked counterpart's torso - to the hilt - before slicing downward and making a jagged scar. Blood poured profusely from the wound as the victor jeered at his opponentÔs misfortune.There was no sound with the picture but Frohike could hear the boy's screams in his head even so.

Skinner made towards a room to the rear of the open space in the living area of the cabin. Maggie Scully followed close behind him. He poured himself a stiff scotch and offered one to Mrs Scully, She shook her head, declining.

"Thank you, no." she said, taking a seat in front of the large desk which dominated the small office area.

Skinner took a stiff swallow of the spirit and settled behind the desk.

"Mrs Scully..." he began.

"Maggie" she corrected. "If we are going to be here for a long time, as seems likely, and we are going to be working together it seems a little silly to be so formal don't you think?"

"You're absolutely right, and in that case you should call me Walter." Skinner replied with a slight smile. "Maggie... I'm not entirely sure where to begin..."

Whatever he had been going to say was forestalled by the most blood curdling shriek coming from one of the bedrooms. Skinner was out of his chair and through the door almost before Margaret Scully had registered the sound.

She stood and followed close behind as Skinner moved across to the corridor that led to one of the bedrooms. The door was partially open and he paused to draw his weapon before entering cautiously, gesturing to her to stay out of sight. She decided to obey, purely because of the uncertainty of the situation.

The sounds of panic and of muffled screams continued from what was clearly the en-suite bathroom. The door to that room was also ajar. Unconsciously she held her breath as Skinner moved with a stealth that belied his solid frame and carefully pushed open the door.

Moving his gun into position, Skinner looked into the bathroom to see Conrad holding an almost insensate Alex upright in front of the toilet. Alex was panting and gritting his teeth, unable to prevent the strangled screams from erupting from his throat as he tried to empty his bladder of all the fluids that had been given to him since they had left the laboratory building.

If it hadn't been so obviously agonising for the man Skinner would have laughed. As it was he felt a distinct sense of relief and relaxed enough to begin sheathing his gun in its holster. He was about to back out of the bedroom and close the door behind him when he was halted in his tracks by the strained voice of his one time nemesis.

"You going to start selling tickets Skinner? If I'd known you got off on that kind of thing I could have used it to my advantage long ago." Alex said, trying hard not to choke on the effort it took to speak and not throw up.

Taking a piss had been a necessity, but it had also been the most painful activity he could think of right then, apart from sex, since there was so much blistering around his genitals from Spender's attentions with his cigarettes and Graaf's little added touches with the electrodes.

He'd known it was going to hurt like hell but even he had not anticipated the white hot waves of agony that had assailed him as the stream of urine began to flow. He was shaking now and barely able to breathe and yet here he was once again baiting the man who, for now, had him at his mercy. He'd really have to break himself of that very bad habit, he mused as he began to see black spots forming in front of his eyes. He barely noticed Margaret Scully's entry into the bedroom, closely followed by Mulder, before he succumbed to insensibility once more.

Kersh was madder than a hornet whose nest has been disturbed. Damn that man Skinner. Who the hell did he think he was anyhow? When Knowle Rohrer had come to him seeking information on Scully's whereabouts he'd been ready at last to serve the cause he'd been recruited to. A noble cause for which he would gladly sacrifice much, though he'd always thought more in terms of the benefits his allegiance would bring. However, at every turn, Skinner was always the one creating problems. His dogged support of Mulder and Scully, come what may, his blind faith in his agents and his stubborn refusal to toe the line had caused endless disruptions to the consortium's plans, and thereby to Kersh's position within the consortium.

It should have come as no surprise, therefore, that when Mulder and Scully were both unable to be found, Skinner should be AWOL too. Not only that but Doggett and Reyes seemed to have joined the errant AD in whatever misguided activity he was engaged in. What was a surprise was to discover that Skinner had managed to suborn two other agents into his little cabal. He wondered how much the AD had told the two saps about their 'mission' before he'd sent them here to guard the evidence he'd hidden away. How much did he tell them of the danger they'd be in? How prepared had they been?

Of course he knew, as perhaps Skinner was only just beginning to realise, that, whatever preparations had been made, they would never have been able to prevent the events that had unfolded here. He sighed heavily. The last thing he'd wanted to do was to issue a warrant for the arrest of Assistant Director Skinner. Yes he'd been more than irritated by the man's refusal to accept the realities of life. Yes he'd been scornful of the man's pathetic attempts to protect Mulder and the X-files, but he had also had a certain amount of respect for the man's integrity. Yet he could hardly avoid this action when faced with the fact of two dead agents who had been sent to this location at Skinner's behest, and it had to have been at his bidding - the fact that this place was run by Skinner's old Marine Corp. buddy Conrad Borrachio made that a dead cert. About as certain as the fact that whoever was responsible for the deaths of these two agents was now in pursuit of Skinner too.

Kersh hoped that he and his men could find the absent AD before the super-soldiers did.

end of chapter 19

many thanks to Helen for beta duties on this one. I hope it will not be as long before I get the next chapter done.

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sharonmarais@sam27.demon.co.uk

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