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 Seven

8 am Somewhere in Washington DC

Fear is one of the best weapons man has to use against others. Alex knew this. It was a lesson which had been deeply ingrained in him over the years. A lesson taught to him by masters. Sow a seed of fear in the mind and it will bloom and grow exponentially with astounding rapidity. However, knowing this was in no way helpful. Knowledge might be power in certain circumstances but in this one, it seemed, it had no power - except to aid his subconscious in enhancing the level of trepidation planted by Spender and Graaf's 'cosy' little chat.

Now that he could move a little he began to fight against his bonds again. Intellectually he knew he was going nowhere, but instinct, habit and pride made it imperative that he at least try. A rat caught in a trap will fight for freedom, even if that freedom costs it a limb or a tail and he, Alex Krycek, Rat Bastard, was no different after all. As before, of course, the more he fought the more his terror robbed him of the ability to reason. His one wrist, upper arms ankles and thighs were raw and bloody from where the metal bindings securing him cut into his flesh. When Dr Graaf entered the chamber to begin setting up his equipment for the coming session Alex was covered in perspiration, his limbs streaked with blood, and he was frothing at the mouth and choking. Angrily, Graaf slapped Alex's face.

"Stop that, you stupid bastard, you'll dislodge the probes and injure yourself." He shouted. "You need to learn one thing around here, and learn it very quickly. You are mine, you are going nowhere and I've just about had it with your histrionics. The only value you have around here right now is to me so you'd better learn to co-operate with me. Is that understood?"

Alex merely closed his eyes, but snapped them open again when Graaf grabbed his head.

"I said is that understood?" Graaf repeated.

Licking his lips a little, Alex carefully formed his reply.

"Go to hell you Nazi wannabe," he spat, "you're just a pale imitation of Spender's former collaborators and the pun is most definitely intended."

"You little shit!" Graaf roared, backhanding Alex again across the face, splitting his lip and making his nose bleed. Graaf looked as though he was about to launch a further attack until he saw Alex's triumphant expression. He drew in a deep breath and took a step back from the table.

"Very clever Mr Krycek." He said. "Who'd have thought you'd still be capable of trying to goad me into killing you after so many weeks here? I'm impressed by your tenacity, but I can assure you that it isn't going to work. We intend to continue with our work and for now, at least, you are an integral part of that."

With that he turned to the trolley he had brought in with him and began arranging cables and conductor pads, tape and other paraphernalia.

Blood continued to flow from Alex's nose, he could feel it and taste it, the coppery tang making him gag. He still felt dizzy and nauseous, probably as a result of having no solid food for as long as he could remember. Whatever nutrients his body was getting were in the IV (assuming he was still being fed in that way) and despite the fact that this had obviously been keeping him alive, it did nothing to assuage his gnawing hunger or his lightheadedness. He fought to stop his gorge rising as the blood cascaded back into his throat. Graaf had placed a band around his head which prevented him from turning it in any direction, if he vomited now he would choke on it. He began to splutter in the effort not to swallow more blood. Graaf, hearing him, whirled around in time to see Alex's predicament and realising that his 'patient' would vomit and then inhale it, thus drowning, he released the head band and turned Alex's head to one side, holding a kidney bowl beside it.

"If you have to throw up, do it in here now." He ordered.

Alex did as he was told, unable now to hold back. The blood and bile he produced seemed to him to be endless, making it almost impossible for him to breathe and making his stomach ache. Eventually though, he finished retching and he was left cold and shaking with spots dancing before his eyes. There was a roaring in his ears and he felt his head begin to spin again, and everything went black.

Spender entered the chamber just as Alex lost consciousness.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice its usual low and menacing rasp.

Graaf had been so engrossed in dealing with Alex that he had not heard the telltale sucking sound of the airlock. Spender's voice startled him and he almost dropped the kidney bowl on the floor. Managing to collect himself before that happened he turned to face his employer, carefully putting the container of blood and bile on the trolley beside him.

"I'm sorry sir, you startled me. I didn't realise you were here."He said.

"Obviously," Spender said dryly, "but you haven't answered my question."

Graaf swallowed nervously, but he knew from experience that it did not do to anger this man - however valuable you might be to him.

"I was cleaning him up, he shows a distressing tendency for vomiting and fainting." Was all he would commit himself to though.

"So I see. However, I can also see that there is blood there. Is there some problem with his biological physiognomy that we did not foresee?" Spender asked, moving his chair closer to the figure of Alex.

"No sir. There does seem to be an unfortunate inability of the subject to accept his situation, however, and I'm afraid I let his irritating verbalisations affect my judgment."

"In short, you struck him and caused the bleeding which caused him to choke and vomit before he passed out." Spender said. "Isn't that it Dr Graaf?"

Graaf gulped a little when he saw the venomous glare which was being directed at him. He could not hold man's gaze.

"Yes sir," he replied, "that is correct. I let myself lose control and a jeopardised our work here. I'm sorry. I can promise you that it will not happen again."

"Indeed." Spender said. "I understand fully how aggravating Alex can be, believe me, after thirty seven years of dealing with him I know exactly how he can try one's patience."

Graaf began to relax in relief.

"However," Spender went on, "if I ever have cause to reprimand you on his treatment again I will have you removed from our project. You are useful to me, but there are others who share your expertise and I would have no trouble in finding a replacement for you. Please remember that fact before you take any further unauthorised action against our subject."

Beads of sweat stood out on Graaf's forehead.

"I will remember sir, believe me. I am as anxious as you are to see this project through to its conclusion. I will do nothing to compromise it now."

"Very well, I will take you at your word." Spender rasped. "For now though, I suggest we bring him around and then we get started on the interrogation."

"Agreed." Graaf said, and he began to attach electrodes to Alex's body. Each had a long thin needle-like probe of between three to six inches in length which were thrust downwards into Alex's flesh. One was pushed into each nipple, one into the end of his stump and one into his navel. A probe was pushed into each temple. conductor pads were placed around the scalp and the probes in his testicles were re-attached to the generator on the trolley. Finally a probe of almost two inches diameter and six inches in length was pushed into Alex's rectum. This last action caused Alex to jerk back to consciousness, a hoarse scream wrenched from his throat as the probe tore into his anal passage.

"Good, you're awake." Spender said, as he watched Alex try to control the pain. "Perhaps now you can tell us exactly what little game you think you are playing?"

Alex gritted his teeth as he stared at the architect of his torment.

"Fuck you!" He said, his throat so traumatised now from screaming and vomiting that his voice was barely audible and the pain involved in vocalising the epithet was obvious.

"Alex, Alex. When are you going to learn that your petty rebellions only serve to land you in deeper trouble?" Spender said coldly. "You cannot seriously have believed that we would continue to allow you to defy us?"

Alex closed his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts on something other than the pain in his body. His mind, however, began cataloguing the sites and sources of each new pain. His breathing accelerated alarmingly as he noted the probe in his stump and cold biting fear arose from the pit of his stomach. A slap to his face made him open his eyes again to find the cold rheumy eyes of his erstwhile boss and mentor staring down at him.

"Alex, you could make this so much easier for everyone, especially you, if you'd just tell us what we need to know." He pressed on one of the nipple probes, pushing the tip further down into Alex's chest muscle, causing Alex to almost bite his tongue in half in an effort not to scream.

"These probes," Spender went on, "are attached to an electric generator capable of producing very high voltage. You will tell us what we want to know. The question is, Alex, would you rather tell us now and be allowed to go free, or, are you going to continue to play your new, and misguided, martyr role and make us go through with the indignity of torture? We will have our answers one way or another, it really is up to you."

Alex refused to speak and after a long silence Spender sighed and pulled out a cigarette.

"Very well." He said, pausing to light it. "You leave us no choice. Really Alex, you are the most troublesome young man."

He nodded at Graaf who acknowledged him with an evil grin. He turned to the monitors and control panels he had assembled. Turning one knob a little he then pressed a button on the console in front of him and the machine began to hum. At the same time Alex felt and electric shock deep within his abdomen, followed by another, then another. The pain was intense, as if someone was cutting their way out of his stomach with a sharp and red hot knife. He seemed unable to scream, but a gargling sound escaped him, clearly expressing his agony. Suddenly, to his intense relief, the pulsing shocks and the pain simply ceased. He felt like crying with joy as the torture stopped, but he knew well that this was only the beginning.

"Now Alex, I'm sure you understand, this was just a mild taste of what is on offer. If you want this to stop all you have to do is tell me what I want to know. Firstly, who were you working for when you sent Mulder to Oregon? Who was your contact in the resistance?"

He looked expectantly at Alex but no answer was forthcoming. Alex merely swallowed hard, closed his eyes, clenched his fist and waited for the inevitable.

"Stubbornness is a highly overrated thing Alex," Spender said, "you'd get much further with loyalty to those who raised you, clothed you, fed you, nurtured you throughout your life."

Still Alex refused to speak, so Spender gestured to Graaf to resume.

This time the pain was stronger, sharper, longer, more intense, and instead of being focused solely in his navel it was spread now amongst his navel, balls and nipples. Alex squirmed, trying to escape, pulling frantically at his bound wrist until he heard it snap - and the white hot agony that engulfed him masked even the pain from the probes. A scream was ripped from him which reverberated around the chamber. Spender tutted and Graaf stopped the electrical current on his signal.

"Are you satisfied now?" Spender said. "See what you've done here?"

He grasped Alex's wrist firmly, grinding the bones together, ignoring the strangled noises coming from his captive.

"You are your own worst enemy Sasha. Why couldn't you be more like Kolya?"

"Maybe because you always encouraged us to be independent of each other." Alex managed hoarsely, panting. "In any case, his loyalty to you hasn't gained him anything. He's still your plaything, your puppet. I'd rather be dead than to live like him."

"Well perhaps your misplaced loyalty to Scully, Skinner and Mulder will be altered when you learn what happened last night." Spender said, smiling evilly.

Alex just looked at him, unwilling to encourage him and also unable to get his voice to work at that moment.

"AD Skinner shot Kolya three times, twice in the arm and once between the eyes. He's dead Alex, you are the last hope we have to prevent the coming apocalypse. Just give up these ridiculous notions of yours. I need to know how the resistance has managed to alter the programming of some of the alien replacements."

"Why?" Alex croaked. " So you can tell them how much you admire their work and make a donation to the cause? I know you too well, you have no interest in the resistance - never have had. All you want to do is save your own sorry ass. What happens to the rest of humanity doesn't matter to you. We're all pawns in your game. We're all dead, or worse than dead if you succeed. Why would I come back and be your tame pet again, knowing what I know?"

He coughed, the exertion of talking had exhausted him. he had no way of knowing how much of what Spender had said was true but he did know that, come what may, he could not betray the resistance to this man. No matter what he'd done before for the evil bastard he could not go back to being Spender's puppet, even if it cost him his life, or worse.

Angrily, Spender ordered Graaf to turn up the dials and the current.

Alex's whole universe became narrowed to focus on the incredible pain in his anus, nipples, navel and balls. He became incoherent as he babbled and begged for it to stop. The pain was like nothing he had ever borne before, there was no language to describe its all encompassing control. White lights lanced his skull in echo to the pulsing current which sliced him internally. Then to his horror and humiliation he felt his cock stiffen and grow until, unbelievably, he was coming - coming- unable to stop. The stimulation continued, and so too did the unwanted orgasm. His whole body contorted into rictus, mimicking the pleasure that should have accompanied this most primal of bodily functions, but he felt no pleasure at all. He felt, rather, as though he was being devoured whole from within.

The sharp spikes of agony caused his vision to blur and rendering him incapable of voluntary movement. His heart began to pound until he feared it would would leap out of his chest. The noise in the chamber was unbelievably loud. Someone should stop it before the sound became unmanageable. Somehow he knew that the source of the sound was him, but all control had long since fled. All he could hope for now was to die before Spender decided that this 'delightful game' was something he would like to add to his party repertoire.

Suddenly the flow of pain through his body ceased and there were cool gentle hands caressing his forehead, a soothing voice caressing his ears before, mercifully, the whole scene shut up around him like a kaleidoscope.

end of chapter 7

Chapter 8

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