Copyright:  Thursday, March 10, 2005 05:21:08 PM         PARADISE ISLAND ATLANTIC OCEAN LATE MORNING - DAY 5               Scully stared up at her dazed partner in stunned disbelief. "Krycek?" she echoed. "Mulder, what are you talking about? Krycek is dead! You saw Skinner shoot him, the same night William was born!"           His bewildered gaze still seemed to be focused on something far beyond the shimmering spores’ cave. "I don’t know. The security tapes were altered, and Krycek’s body disappeared. If the bullet struck just right, he could have survived."           Suddenly his eyes widened, and she could almost feel the puzzle pieces snapping together in his reawakening brain. "Scully, that’s it!" he exclaimed. "The Russians knew about the spores--and Krycek stole their vaccine! Remember how Marita Covarrubias testified at my trial that the Syndicate had infected her with the virus, and used her as a guinea pig at the Ft. Marlene military base, to test their improved antidote?"           He gripped her arm, and stared around the glowing cavern. "If Krycek gave the Syndicate this island’s coordinates, they could be the other visitors that the spores remember. And if the Syndicate has staked out this cave as their private little pharmacopeia, there’s only one reason Alex Krycek would be coming here right now."           "To kill us," Scully whispered. "To make sure we don’t gather any of the spores ourselves--or tell anyone about our findings here."           "To kill anyone he finds here," he amended, his expression grim. "You and I, Scully--we’ll be an added bonus."           Civilian lives were at stake, and she had no faith in his spurious belief that the spores would protect them. "But Mulder, Krycek is dead!" she insisted. "Skinner’s bullet penetrated right between his eyes! Even if it only severed the corpus callosum and didn’t clip either of his brain’s hemispheres, he’d have bled to death without immediate medical care. There’s no way he’d be in any shape to come hunting us down now!"           The guarded look on Mulder’s face sent a new mass of shivers chasing down her spine. "What?" she demanded.           He glanced away uneasily. "Krycek was at Mount Weather, when I was captured. He helped me escape from Knowle Rohrer. I thought I was hallucinating," he confessed. "But a ghost couldn’t have closed and locked that door behind me. Or warned me that more security guards were approaching."           The pool’s steady drip-drip suddenly seemed very loud. Krycek...alive! Scully’s guts knotted in dread at the mere thought.           Grimly she reached for her gun. "How far away is he? How much time do we have?"           "I’m not sure. An hour, maybe less." Then dismay lit his jade-green eyes. "I think he’s brought reinforcements, Scully. The spores are hearing one strong, focused mind and four, maybe five others nearby. It’s hard to tell, I’m getting such confusing impressions."           Some subtle echo or resonance in his voice chilled her blood. For just an instant, she could almost hear something else speaking through him.           Reluctant belief warred with her deeply-ingrained skepticism. She didn’t want to believe what he was suggesting. There were no tangible explanations, no scientific precedents for sentient cave spores. Yet the memory of her own indescribable experience lurked just behind her eyes, too vivid--too real--to discount. How could she not believe what she’d just experienced herself?           They stared at each other in silence for several long moments. Then Scully nodded once, and whirled around. "Hurry up, Mulder," she ordered over her shoulder. "We don’t have much time." • • • • • •           Brilliant golden light dazzled Scully’s eyes as she burst out of the long, shadowy passage. The hot sun was directly overhead. How long had they been confined in that humid cave, lost to reason among Mulder’s glowing spores?           The fresh air felt invigorating against her damp skin. She sucked in a deep, grateful breath, and aimed her 9mm at the towering treetops.           Then she hesitated.           Their only protection from Krycek and his team of assassins lay in remaining hidden. If she fired twice to summon their comrades, the distinctive report would carry out across the waves. Then Krycek would know the island was inhabited--and nothing would stop him from hunting them down.           Mulder sensed her dilemma, and laid a decisive hand on her shoulder. "You head up the mountain, make sure that Max and Reuben are safe. I’ll go fetch Esther and Penelope. Rendezvous here?"           He was thinking clearly again, now that he’d finally shaken off the spores’ unearthly spell. Scully released a silent sigh of relief. "Krycek may be closer than we realize. Take this," she advised, and pressed her gun into his hand. "I’ll get yours back from Reuben. But be careful--I adjusted the trigger tension down to one pound. It’s more sensitive than you’re used to."           He accepted the weapon, and her warning, with a sober nod. "If I’m not back soon, make sure everyone’s safely hidden. Krycek can’t kill what he can’t find." • • • • • •           Over the years, Mulder had traipsed through more hostile terrain than he cared to remember. But he’d never felt more like Tarzan than he did then, slithering and sliding down the rocky slope, clutching at thick vines to control his speed.           It had taken three long hours to painstakingly track the elusive stream to its hidden birthplace. He reached the curving golden-white beach again in less than five minutes.           It was empty.           For one awful moment, he feared that Krycek’s team had already landed, and taken the two defenseless women hostage--or worse. Then he glimpsed Esther’s plump form rounding the far bend. Weak with relief, he pushed free of the concealing underbrush, and hurried to meet her.           He’d forgotten all about the bloodstained bandage still tied around his left leg, until her round face paled in horror. "I’m fine," he quickly exclaimed, forestalling her panicked questions. "It’s nothing. Where’s Penelope? We’ve got trouble."           "Reuben?" One wrinkled hand instinctively covered her heart, confirming Scully’s suspicions about the garrulous retiree’s health.           "Reuben’s fine," he promised. "Look, I don’t have time to explain right now, but I need you to climb that hill. Agent Scully’s waiting for you, about halfway up to the summit. Can you make it alone?"           A thousand questions were brimming in her aging throat, but Esther Schaumberg knew when to hold her tongue. She cast one rapid glance up the steep mountainside, then nodded. "Penny’s in the cave, tending Reuben’s firepit. You’ll hurry?"           "I’ll hurry." Mulder’s respect for her boundless courage climbed several more notches. "Just follow the stream, and you’ll be fine."           Esther nodded, and took a deep steadying breath. Then she hitched up her long skirts, and pushed into the thick foliage without another word.           Mulder tossed an admiring salute at her vanishing back. He’d never met anyone else, except Scully, who possessed such innate bravery and wisdom. Reuben was a lucky man. He hoped they all lived long enough that he could tell him so.           The curving horizon was still unbroken, but Mulder knew that safety was a deceptive illusion. Krycek and his team might not be approaching from the west. Even now, they could be landing in the gentle southern bay, or up in the craggy northern rocks, preparing their deadly offensive...           Somehow he had to wipe out all traces of their existence, before they were found and captured. Thank goodness that heavy storm had destroyed their original campsite! And the drifting white-gold sands were so hot, they all preferred walking in the foaming surf. That would reduce the number of betraying footprints he needed to erase.           Dried palm branches crackled as he dragged them in his wake, swaying them back and forth to create a more natural pattern. Then he swiftly disassembled the stone cairn they’d built to mark their cave’s location. The restless incoming waves swallowed each rock without a trace. Reassured, he turned and scrambled up the slight hill.           Penelope was feeding some dried twigs into the firepit when he charged through the narrow entryway. "Agent Mulder, what happened to you?" she gasped, leaping to her feet.           "No time to explain." He kicked loose dirt over the glowing coals, and scowled as hazy smoke rose to cloud the air. Penny sputtered an indignant protest. "Forget the fire," he ordered. "We’ve got an emergency, and I need your help."           Her crystal-blue eyes widened. "Something’s happened to Maxie? Where is he?"           "Max is fine." Even as he swept his handful of dried palm fronds across the floor, he heaved an inner sigh of relief. Obviously she cared more about the rebellious teenager than she was willing to admit. "He’s waiting for you up the hill, with Esther and Reuben and Agent Scully. I need you to join them while I clear out this cave, make it look like we haven’t been here."           Penny hesitated, watching as he created a not-quite-random pattern on the floor. "That won’t fool anyone," she finally concluded. "Even I can tell that you’re hiding something."           "Well, it’s the best I can do on short notice," he retorted. "Now get going!"           She’d always obeyed him before, so her sudden refusal brought him up short. "There’s no way you can empty it yourself. You’re going to need some help." And before he could protest, she sprinted off to gather up their emergency kit. "You take our baskets outside!"           He hated risking her safety, and every moment was precious. But she was right. Even after only a few days, the cave had a lived-in look. Firewood was stacked neatly along one wall; the low ceiling was blackened from torch smoke. Reuben’s ingenious firepit was still smoldering beneath a layer of singed dirt. At best, maybe he could psych Krycek into believing he was alone on the island--if Penelope could help him hide most of their supplies.           Sighing, he gathered an armful of baskets, and followed her outside. She’d already stowed the emergency kit under a bush several yards above the cave entrance. At his signal, she began to catch the baskets, and hide them under some nearby shrubs.           Every nerve in his body was tensed, alert for trouble. But the distant horizon was still empty. Nothing moved, except Penelope and himself, in the sweltering midday shadows. He should have been relieved--but something felt wrong.           A hauntingly familiar pattern was coalescing in his brain, a grim pattern forged dark with hatred and envy, malice and greed...           "Get going now," he ordered, gesturing up the steep hillside. "I’m going to sweep out the bedrooms, then I’ll follow you."           He turned back toward the cave entrance--and found himself staring straight down the barrel of a high-caliber Beretta.           "How very domestic!"           Penny yelped in terror as a menacing figure suddenly materialized from the shadows. The last basket of grain slipped from her hands, and spilled down the hillside with a noisy clatter. Mulder’s hand instinctively closed around his partner’s borrowed 9mm. "Krycek!" he grated. "I knew I sensed you nearby!"           The younger operative jerked his gun sideways twice, gesturing toward the darkened cave entrance. "So you’ve already found the spores," he deduced with a faint mocking smile. "I’d wondered what effect they’d have on you! Inside now, both of you. And no heroics, Mulder. Even the omnipotent spores won’t save you from a bullet at close range!"           Mulder cautiously eased his hand away from the 9mm again. There would be time later, when Penelope’s life wasn’t in danger, to settle the decade-long score between them. For now, discretion and obedience seemed the wiser course to follow.           Penelope jerked back in terror when he reached for her hand, and gently tugged her down the slope. Up until now, being shipwrecked had seemed like an exotic adventure. But the big black gun clenched in Krycek’s right hand was real! The bullets it held were real, and the danger it posed was very real!           Suddenly she wasn’t having an adventure anymore. She was petrified--for Agent Mulder, for Max, for herself. "Wh-what are you going to do to us?" she quavered, edging closer to Mulder as the young assassin calmly herded them into the cave.           Krycek spared her a thin smile, and she felt his eyes pierce through her like twin daggers. Uncontrollable shivers raced down her spine. He was going to kill them, she just knew he was going to kill them...           "Nothing--yet," he replied, his voice gentling slightly. "First we’re going to have a little talk. And if I like the answers you give me, I might let you live."           Penny edged closer to Mulder, and surreptitiously clutched at his cold hand. They were going to die, and then he was going to track down Max and kill him, too...and there was nothing she could do, nothing at all, to stop him!           Two more shadows suddenly darkened the narrow entryway. Her heart leaped with hope--then plummeted again, as a pair of burly assassins lumbered into the cave and flanked Krycek. He snapped something at them in a language she couldn’t understand, but his meaning became clear when they pulled lengths of rope from their backpacks.           She instinctively ducked as the closer one reached for her, but he effortlessly pinned her small arms together, and wrapped the coarse rope around her wrists. Hot tears stung her eyes as he looped the rope twice around her waist, then knotted it securely behind her.           Mulder forced himself to remain silent as the other mercenary yanked Scully’s gun from his holster, then viciously lashed his wrists together. Even before Krycek had lost his left arm in Russia, some six years previously, he’d been able to take the young assassin. Gun or no gun, he wouldn’t have hesitated attacking his enemy if they’d been alone.           But Penelope Kensington was an innocent, vulnerable child. He couldn’t afford to risk her life, no matter how badly he yearned to grind Krycek’s youthful face into the dirt.           Krycek holstered his Beretta, and thoughtfully hefted Scully’s 9mm. "I had them tie your hands in front on purpose," he coolly informed the fuming agent. "You’ll need them in a few minutes."           "Why? So I can wipe that smirk off your face?" Mulder retorted.           His hatred of Alex Krycek ran bone-deep. For a few brief months, nine years ago, Krycek had been his partner on the X-Files Project. Then Krycek had turned traitor, and vanished. After aiding in Scully’s kidnaping by Axis-allied doctors whose horrific experiments had nearly killed her twice, and destroyed her chances for a normal life, he’d brutally murdered Mulder’s father and Scully’s older sister. Those were only a few of the things Mulder would never forget, or forgive.           Krycek ignored his scathing taunt. He could afford to be tolerant, when his enemy was securely bound and helpless. It was rare that he felt powerful, in control, around Fox Mulder. He reveled in the sweet satisfaction of a plan well executed.           Besides, he was genuinely intrigued by the girl. His intelligence reports hadn’t mentioned that Senator Kensington’s precocious teenage daughter was such a budding beauty! What a valuable pearl she could become, if he could recruit her!           "I need some information," he explained, offering her a charming smile. "And you’re going to give it to me. Then Agent Mulder and I are going to take a little trip up the mountainside to the other cave.           "And you..."  He deliberately hesitated, and watched as her deep blue eyes grew huge with apprehension. Then he tucked Scully’s gun between his prosthetic left arm and ribcage, and lightly stroked her face with his right hand. "You’re a pretty little thing," he murmured. "Maybe I’ll take you with me. You could be a great help to me--if you can be properly trained."           Mulder stiffened as Penelope jerked back with a terrified gasp. "She knows nothing, Krycek," he warned. "She hasn’t even been up to the cave. I’ve kept her down here, where it’s safe."           The young assassin threw his former partner a mocking glance. "I already know about the cave, and the spores," he reminded Mulder. "And everything they’re allegedly capable of. I want to know about the plane crash, how you found this island--and who else is here with you."           He was looking at her again, with those clever eyes that saw everything. Penelope felt cold inside, and sick to her stomach. Would he know if she lied about Max and the others? Would he kill her before Agent Mulder could stop him?           It didn’t matter. She couldn’t tell him about Max! And she wasn’t going with him, either, not if she had to throw herself into the ocean and drown!           So if she had to die, then she was going to do it bravely, without crying and begging. And without telling this mean bully any little bit of the truth!           "I--I don’t know what happened," she stammered. Her clear voice cracked, and she prayed that he’d interpret it as anguish. "Everything was fine at first, but then the plane crashed, and the windows all broke, and water was coming in everywhere! And then Maxie fell overboard..."           Hot tears welled up as she suddenly envisioned losing her very best friend. Why hadn’t she ever told him how much she really cared? Now it might be too late, she might never see him again!           "We tried and tried to find him, but he was gone!" She choked back a tearful sob. "And then the other boat disappeared, too, and we were all alone! And I’ve been so scared!" Instinctively she hid her tear-streaked face against Mulder’s shoulder, and felt his muscles tense.           Krycek’s lips curved in a sardonic grin. "You’re losing your touch, Mulder," he taunted. "Or has Scully been keeping you honest?"           Mulder met his contempt with a bleak expression. "Scully was on the other boat," he lied. "We tied them together, but the ropes broke in the storm. I don’t know where she is now."           Penelope didn’t dare look up as tense silence ricocheted through the cavern. Then Krycek scowled. "The day when you tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth--that’s the day I turn in my gun and hand myself over to the Syndicate!" he sneered. "You and Agent Scully lead charmed lives. Nothing can manage to kill you, not even me! Now where is she?"           Penny shivered. "I--I don’t know," she faltered, letting Mulder’s dirt-streaked shirt muffle her voice. "Really! We haven’t seen anyone at all since we landed. I was so afraid no one would ever find us!"           He couldn’t trust anything Mulder said--but this intriguing child was too innocent, too naive, to lie with glib ease. Krycek had no doubt that Scully was still alive--somewhere. But maybe luck really was with him this time.           "It’s a good thing I came, then, isn’t it?" he murmured, grazing his fingers over her tear-stained cheek.           Without turning, he rapped out more guttural orders to his henchmen, then arched a mocking eyebrow at his long-time nemesis. "Time to take that little walk up the mountainside now, Mulder. Hans will untie my little príekrahsníy once we’re gone, so she can move around the cave. But don’t try to escape, pretty one," he added, stroking Penny’s tangled blonde hair. "I have such great plans for you!"           Mulder instinctively lunged forward, his face a twisted mask of hatred. Krycek quickly jumped back, his right arm defensively raised. "Tsk tsk, Mulder, anyone would think you actually cared!" he scoffed, while Hans collared the fuming FBI agent. "What would Scully think?"           "The same thing I do," Mulder snarled. "That you’re a backstabbing little parasite with delusions of grandeur, who should have been drowned at birth! An oversight I’d be delighted to remedy!"           Krycek chuckled. "That’d be rather difficult, under the circumstances."           Then he noticed Penelope staring at his left arm in fascinated horror. A hot blush stained her cheeks as their eyes met, and she quickly ducked her head.           Krycek lifted the stiff prosthetic hand, and impassively examined it. "A little souvenir I brought back from Russia," he explained, flexing its cumbersome fingers. "Not a pretty story, but you’ll need to know it, before I begin your training.           "Now you’d best say your goodbyes, but make it quick," he added. "We don’t have much time left."           Penny choked back a sob. They were abandoning her to that big ugly giant, and Agent Mulder might not come back for her! Crying in earnest, she threw herself against Mulder’s wide chest. "Please don’t leave me here!" she begged, clinging to his bound hands.           Krycek’s eyebrows rose. "Maybe you haven’t lost your touch after all," he murmured, glancing speculatively at his silent enemy. "But it doesn’t matter. She’ll forget about you soon enough."           He muttered something to Hans, and the burly guard scowled. Then Mulder felt himself being shoved toward the cave opening. Krycek kept Scully’s gun aimed between his shoulder blades as he stumbled, then regained his footing. "Move it, Mulder. We don’t have all day."           Defiantly the tall FBI agent hesitated, and glanced back over his shoulder. Penelope was staring up at him with a helpless, beseeching plea in her brimming eyes.           He managed to offer her a faint reassuring smile. Then Krycek prodded him with the 9mm again, forcing him into motion.