"Come on Alex, just a mouthful, just try a mouthful, that's all."

Alex shook his head and burrowed deeper under the quilt, Walter sighed and shook his head
in frustration.

He had been spending the last twenty minutes trying to coax Alex into taking a mouthful of the
chicken soup that Dana's mother had made especially for Alex.

"Hurts." Alex croaked shaking his head. "Too sore."

"I know it hurts your throat to swallow sweetheart, but you need to eat something."
Walter told him. "Come on, just one mouthful." He held the spoon out but Alex stubbornly
turned his head away.

"How's it going?"

Walter turned around as Fox sauntered into the guest bedroom, where Alex was staying until
he was over the'flu.

"I'm afraid it's not." Walter replied. He set the now lukewarm bowl of soup onto the night
stand. "I can't even get him to open his mouth to taste it."

Fox grinned. "I keep telling you Walter, you have to be firm or you'll get absolutely no where."

"Oh really Dr Spock, do you think you could do any better?"

"I think I might be able too." Fox replied. He seated himself on the edge of the bed, picking
up the bowl of soup.

"Right now Alex, open up...come on."

Alex shook his head, uhuh, no way.

"Alex, Maggie Scully made this just for you, now you don't want to insult her
by not eating it, do you?"

"Tell her thanks for me." Alex whispered hoarsely.

Fox sighed. "Alex, no more nonsense, open up...or else."

"Or else what?" Walter asked, amused.

"Or else, of Jesus...I don't know." Fox spluttered. He turned to glare at Walter who was
laughing.

"But I will think of something." He turned back to Alex, who was regarding both of his lovers
with amusement.

"Okay Alex, enough is enough, you are going to have some of this soup, then you can have your
medication and a nap."

"No." Alex said, shaking his head again. "Don't want to."

"Why don't we just leave it for now Fox, let him rest for a while then we can heat the soup
up for him later." Walter said. Fox sighed.

"You know Dana told us that he has to eat and drink plenty of fluids, he's lost so much weight
and he's still dehydrated."

He turned back to Alex once more.

"Look baby, I know it's no fun being sick, and being stuck in bed, but if you don't have some
nourishment you're never going to get better."

"Don't care." Alex pouted at him like a three year old, which was exactly the way he had
been acting since he had gotten sick nearly a week before.

Because of his already precarious health, it was taking him longer to shake
off the effects of the 'flu, despite all the medication he was on.

"Alex that's it, you are going to do as you're told." Fox said firmly. "Now
don't look at me like that, it's for your own good."

Alex's bottom lip pooched out, when it came to sulking, he was almost as good as Fox.

Walter chuckled. "He's right Alex, just a couple of spoonfuls, and then you can have some
ice cream, okay?"

"Doan wanna."

"Too bad baby, now open up." Alex opened his mouth and Fox tipped a spoonful of the chicken
soup into his mouth. Alex tried to swallow it, but it got caught in his red raw throat.

Spluttering, it sprayed out of his mouth, and all over Fox.

"Oh hell!" He leapt up, frantically brushing at his suit. "Oh shit, I just got this
back from the cleaners!"

Walter roared with laughter and Alex ducked under the quilt, pulling it up over his head.

"Oh for Christ's sake, Walter, this isn't funny!"

Walter quickly sobered. "No, you are right Fox, it's not." Then, unable to help
it, he burst out laughing again.

Fox glared at him for a moment, then turned back to Alex, who was still hiding under the
bedclothes.

He rolled his eyes, an ex Consortium agent hiding under the quilt for pete's sake.
"Oh Alex, come on out of there will you, you're not in trouble."

One eye peeked out over the quilt. "You sure?"

"Yes I'm sure." Fox grabbed the quilt and tugged it lightly. "Come on, it's time for your
pills anyway."

"Okay." Alex pushed the covers off him. His hair was sticking up all over the place, flopping down over his forehead.
Walter reached over
and gently smoothed his hair back.

"Sorry Fox." Alex whispered, staring down at the brightly patterned quilt.

Fox chuckled and reached down to tilt Alex's face up to his.

"Honey, it was an accident, don't worry about it.

"But I ruined your suit." Alex replied mournfully. Fox sighed.

"Alex, it's a suit, I can get it cleaned, It's nothing to get upset over."

"Okay." Alex still looked doubtful. Fox chuckled. "Well, I think we can safely say that the
soup was not a success."

"Sorry." Alex whispered. "My throat hurts, I don't wanna eat."

"Well, we'll try something later." Walter replied. "In the meantime, I'll go and get your pills."
"And some juice, he needs to drink something as well."

"What he needs is a good spanking." Fox replied, half jokingly, looking down at the stains
on his suit.

When Fox saw Alex's face drain of all colour, he could have kicked himself. Alex stared at the two men, eyes wide and terrified.

"Please...I'm sorry please don't spank me, I promise, I won't get sick again."

"Oh shit." Fox said miserably, he had forgotten how badly Alex reacted to any kind of physical
threat, even one said in jest. The Consortium had often beaten and tortured Alex using
the threat of pain to make him do their dirty work. According to Alex, the Elders of the Elite
had been the worst.

"Alex, I was just kidding, I'd never hurt you, you know that." Fox told him as gently as he could.
"And besides that, what would make you think that we would ever punish you for getting sick?"

He looked up at Walter for support. Concerned, Walter perched on the edge of the bed, taking
Alex's hand.

"Listen Alex, Fox was just making a joke..." He threw the man in question a disapproving glance.
"A questionable one, but a joke all the same. There is no way
either of us could ever hurt you. Okay baby?"

After a moment, Alex nodded. "Okay." He whispered, then he offered the two worried man a wan
smile.

"I'm sorry, I should have realized Fox was only kidding, but with Spender's phone call and all.."

"It's okay, I shouldn't have said what I said Alex, it was stupid and thoughtless of me."
Fox replied. Alex sighed and shook his head. "No, it's up to me to start acting like an adult
instead of like a needy brat all the time."

Walter chuckled and patted Alex's blanket covered leg. "You may be acting like a needy brat, but you are our
needy brat, and that's what counts."

Alex nodded, feeling better, ever since the Smoking Man had called three nights ago, it had
sent him into an emotional spin. Both Walter and Fox had been been giving as much support
as they possibly could. Walter in fact had taken some time off to care for him, and Fox had
tried to cut down on his workload to spend more time at home.

Alex really appreciated everything they were doing for him, but it made him feel bad.
He felt as though he was not pulling his weight.

"Now how about I get Fox cleaned up then get your pills, that way we might still be able to
catch the football game on channel six later." Walter said, standing up.

"Sounds good to me." Fox always enjoyed watching the football and baseball on T.V, Alex was
not much of a sports fan himself.

"Okay." Alex snuggled back down under the covers. "I feel really tired."

"Pills first, then sleep." Walter told the sick man firmly.

Alex waited until both Walter and Fox had left the room, to stick his tongue out at them.

"Who was on the phone?" Fox asked as he set the six pack of beer and the bowl
of popcorn onto the coffee table. He had changed from his stained suit into a pair of sweat pants
and a pull over.

"John, Dana's taken the baby over to visit her Mum so he's at a loose end. So I invited him
over to watch the game with us." Walter replied. "You don't mind do you?"

"No, it's just that..." Fox looked suddenly uncomfortable.

Walter frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Oh... nothing." Fox replied slowly. "Um it's just that I forgot to tell you, the Lone Gunmen
are coming over to watch the game as well."

Walter stared at him for a moment. "Thanks for letting me know."

Fox shrugged. "Sorry, I said, I forgot."

"Fox, may I remind you that you possess a photographic memory...how the hell could
you forget?"

Fox sighed, the last thing he wanted to do right now was get into an argument over it right now.

"I said I was sorry Walter, it's just that I have been snowed under at the Bureau lately,
what with Kersh on my case twenty four hours a day, and now The Smoking Man's decided to crawl
out from under his rock..."

Walter sighed. "I know Fox, remember I am in the exact same position, it's just that I know
that John and the Three Stooges don't really get on."

Fox rolled his eyes. "I wish you would stop calling them that, they are my friends, you know and
they're not that bad."

Walter grinned, actually he liked those three goofballs, but John Doggett and the Three Stooges,
as Walter dubbed them, did not really get on. Oh well, it was done now, all he could do was
hope that Langley was not to rude to John.

He seemed to get a kick out of baiting the serious minded FBI agent.

Just than, the phone rang, Fox reached over and picked it up. "Agent Mulder here."

He listened for a moment, then frowned. "What, are you sure. Give me twenty minutes, I'll
right there." He hung the phone back up, and turned to Walter who was waiting patiently.

"That was AD Kersh." Fox explained. "There's been a triple murder over near the Madison building.
He wants me to check it out."

"You'd better get going then." Walter replied with a grin. "Mustn't keep AD Kersh waiting, must we?"

Fox pulled a face. "I was really looking forward to the game." He sighed. "Oh well, better
get changed." He headed upstairs, just as the front doorbell rang.

Walter answered the door and was faced with the sight of John Doggett helping Ringo Langley
and Melvin Frohike carry a large box up to the front porch.

John Byers was carrying a smaller box crammed full of wires and plugs and other electrical
paraphernalia.

"What the hell?" Walter stepped aside to allow them entrance into the front foyer.

"Oh Jesus this is heavy." John Doggett grunted as he and Langley set the box onto the floor.

"What's all this?" Fox was coming down the stairs, pulling his coat on. He stopped at the
bottom of the stairs, staring at the boxes on the floor.

"It's for Ratboy...I mean Alex." Langley quickly amended. "It's a computer."

"Thanks Ringo." Fox replied puzzled. "But we have a computer for him, it's in the study."

"I made this one up for him myself." Langley replied. I thought he might like to keep it in his room
while he's sick, you know, take his mind off his misery and keep him occupied."

"Thanks Ringo." Fox said, genuinely touched. He knew that none of his friends liked or trusted
Alex Krycek. For them to go to all this trouble was really very sweet.

"We'll take it upstairs and set it up for him, he have a special stand that will sit over the bed."
Melvin Frohike said. "Something I just happened to whip up myself."

"I'll give you guys a hand." Walter said. "But let's do it after the game, right now Alex is
asleep, I don't want to disturb him."

"How is he?" John Doggett asked, Walter could see he was not asking out of politeness, but out
of genuine concern.

"A little better, but this dammed throat infection and cough just won't seem to budge."
Walter replied with a sigh.
"No matter what Dana precribes, nothing seems to be having real effect."

"In that case, maybe he should be in a hospital." John replied.

"I hate to interrupt guys, but I have to go." Fox said, cutting in. "I'll be back as soon
as I can."

"Hey, where are you going?" Frohike asked. "I thought we were going to watch the game?"

"Sorry guys, I am on an investigation, have to go. I see you all later."

"Shit man." Langley replied. "That is so uncool. Who would call him out when the football's on?"

"Crime doesn't stop for a football game." John Doggett replied with a smile.

Langley turned to give him one of his 'looks'."

"Come on guys, the game is about to start." Walter guided them all towards the living room, before
any trouble could start between Ringo Langley and and John Doggett.

He switched on the T.V and soon the five of them were engrossed in the game.

Walter reached over for another beer when the phone rang, eyes still glued to the screen,
Byers picked the phone up and handed to him.

"Assistant Director Skinner speaking." He barked into the phone. "Yes, yes Sir, of course."
Skinner said. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Right, thank you Sir."

He handed the phone back to Byers who replaced the handset onto the cradle.

"Sorry guys, but that was the Deputy Director, he wants to see me straight away."

"John Doggett looked up, surprised. "What, this late?"

"Emergency meeting." Walter explained. "I have to get going."

"I thought you were on leave while Alex was sick?" Byers asked.

"Yeah, so did I." Walter grunted. "But I have to go...oh shit, Alex!" Walter said suddenly.
"Hell, I forgot, I can't leave him here by himself, he's still too sick."

"We can stay and look after him until you or Fox gets back." Byers said. "It's okay."
He looked at the others. "Right guys?"

Frohike and Langley both nodded. "Yeah sure, no problem."

John Doggett shrugged. "I'm not doing anything for awhile, I can stay."

"And where's the lovely Dana tonight?" Frohike asked. Even thinking about the red headed agent
tended to make the pulse in his diminutive body race.

"She's taken Willian to visit her mother." John Doggett replied.

Walter hesitated. Leaving Alex in the care of four men that all had reason to despise him...

As if reading his thoughts, John Doggett said. "Walt, he'll be fine, I promise we will take
good care of him, all right?"

"Yeah, we are pretty good at taking care of sick little rats." Langley added, ignoring the glares
that both Frohike and Byers directed at him.

Walter groaned inwardly, he had a feeling that this was not a good idea, but it was not like
he had a choice. The DD had summoned him and that was that.

"All right then, I'll be back as soon as I can."

He hurried upstairs to change out of his jeans and polo shirt.

Langley settled back against the couch. "After all guys, what could go wrong?"

Alex's eyes flew open, he stared around the darkened room for a moment, disorientated.
After a moment, he recognized the guest room where he was staying while he recovered from
the flu.

For a moment, everything had looked different in the dim light coming from the half open window.

The moonlight had cast shadows over everything, making it look unfamiliar and somehow...weirdly alien.

It's the dammed fever, he thought grimly, struggling to sit up. This illness is playing tricks
with my mind.

Suddenly he heard a sharp thud from downstairs, followed by a string of curses.

Alex frowned, he did not recognize the voice.

Suddenly he heard heavy foot steps coming up the stairs.

"He's in here."

Alex froze. Who the hell was that? He threw back the quilt and swung his legs off the bed.

Christ, where the hell was his gun. With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he realized
that it had been locked away in the gun safe. Shit!

The bedroom door was flung open and Alex stared up at the two men that filled the doorway.

"Hi Alex, remember me?" Luis Cardinal stepped into the room, gun clutched firmly in his hand.

"Sorry to break in on you like this, but Mr Spender would like a word with you."
He gave Alex a chilling smile.

Downstairs, the Lone Gunmen were lying on the floor, hands over their heads. John Doggett
lay a little away, unconscious, he was bleeding from a headwound.

As soon as the gunmen had burst in through the back door of the house, John had fought valiantly until one of the men smashed the heel of his pistol down onto the FBI
agent's head. John had dropped like a stone.

Langley, Byers and Frohike were forced down onto the floor at gunpoint. The three of them
petrified with terror.

"W...w...what do y..you want?" Byers managed out between chattering teeth. Beside him, Frohike was trembling badly.

"Just stay where you are and don't move." One of the men said, then he and another man headed upstairs,
towards Alex's room.

The three other men stayed downstairs, keeping their weapons trained on their helpless captives.

Byers lifted his head, staring at one of the men, a tall dark headed man with a thin scar on
his left cheek.

"If you do anything to Alex, you know Walter Skinner and Fox Mulder won't rest until you
are behind bars...you know that don't you?"

The man chuckled, waving his gun at Byers. "Is that so?"

Langley lifted his head to stare at his friend. "John, shut up!" He hissd.

Byers ignored him. He kept his eyes on the man with the scar.

"Who are you working for? The Smoking man?"

"Byers, shut the fuck up!" Langley snarled. "Can't you see that you are going to get us all
killed?"

"Why don't you leave him alone?" Byers continued. "He's got a life here now, why can't you all
just leave him be?"

Frohike groaned. "John, these men are not open to reason, can't you see that? Shut up before you
get us killed."

"That's right." Langley said furiously. "Men who are waving guns in our faces aren't usually
open to discussion about anything so pipe the hell down!"

Suddenly there was a commotion from upstairs. Cardinal and the other man both had Alex gripped
between them. Alex was struggling desperately, but to no avail. The other man was holding
Alex's prosthetic arm in his hand.

"Come on, we have what we came for." Luis Cardinal said to the others.

The Lone Gunmen watched helplessly as the hired thugs dragged a wildly struggling
Alex out to a dark van.

"Oh shit, where the hell are they taking him?" Langley asked miserably. All the others
could do was stare at him speechlessly. Byers shook his head clearly shocked. It was Susanne Modesky all
over again.

"We have to call Walter and Fox." Frohike said. "And I think Doggett needs a paramedic."

Both Byers and Langley hurried over to where John was still lying on the floor. Frohike picked
up the phone to call Fox and let him know what happened.

Alex slowly came to. Head pounding, stomach knotted with nausea, he sat up, peering into
the darkened room.

"Ah, welcome back young man."

Alex sharply drew breath. He knew that well cultured voice.

The Well Manucured Man...or the Brit, as Alex privately dubbed him, was sitting as a long wooden
table, a cup and saucer in front of him.

Sitting opposite him, was Spender, ubiquitous cigarette bewteen his fingers.

"What am I doing here?" Alex asked, his voice harsh. The WMM gave him a razor thin smile.

"Come now Alex, do you really need to ask that question?" WMM sounded amused.

Alex opened his mouth to answer him, but a sharp pain hit him squarely in the chest and
he was overcome with a severe fit of coughing.

CSM and WMM both sat and watched as Alex struggled for breath. After what seemed like an
eternity, the coughing gradually subsided.

"My my Alex, you do not sound well at all." Spender said calmly.

"It's nothing, just the flu, that's all." Alex gasped out, trying desperately to catch his breath.

His chest felt there was an invisible hand squeezing it, his throat was raw and throbbing.

"Hmm, I certainly hope it does not turn into anything more serious." Wmm observed. "After
all these flu virus do have a nasty way of developing into pneumonia and other far more
complicated illness's."

"Yeah, I'm sure if I died of pneumonia, that would just break your heart." Alex sneered,then
started to cough once more.

Spender chuckled. "Poor Alex, so sick and no one to look after him, so sad isn't it?"

"No one but us." WMM agreed. Suddenly he stood up, Spender followed suit. WMM turned to
Luis Cardinal.

"See to it that our ...guest, is well taken care of." With that, both he and Spender left
the room.

Alex watched them go, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomch, he knew that he was in deep
shit now. Please Walter...Fox... He prayed silently. Please, you have to find me..
you have to...please!

Both Walter and Fox arrived home almost simultaneously. Walter had received a call
from Frohike, telling him what had happened.

An ambulance was sitting outside the house, the bright orange lights throwing everything into
stark relief.

The two men hurried into the house, to be met by a scene that was almost surreal.

John Doggett was sitting on the floor, near a pool of blood that was obviously his.
A paramedic was cleaning a deep looking wound in his scalp.

Frohike, Langley and Byers were all tripping over the top of each over, trying to explain
to a young looking paramedic what had taken place.
The paramedic was staring at each of them in turn, looking totally harrassed and confused.

Walter quickly decided to take conrol of the situation, he stepped forward, raising his voice
in order to be heard.

"What's going on here?" He demanded, in his best Assistant Director's voice.

John Doggett and the Lone Gunmen all stared up at him for a moment. Then John answered.

"Some men broke into the house and overpowered us Walter, they took Alex."

"Oh Jesus." Walter heard Fox say from behind him. He sounded completely dismayed.

Walter nodded, as furious and frightened for Alex as he was feeling, he had to let his FBI
instincts take over now, he knew it was the only way they were going to get Alex back.

Walter went over to kneel beside John. "Did you recognize any of the them?"

He shook his head, then winced. "No Walter, I didn't. I think they may have been from the
Consortium though, all they seemed to want to do was grab Alex and get the hell out."

"The Consortium." Johm Byers said. "But I thought they and the Syndicate as a whole were finished?"

Fox glanced over at his friend. "No, there's still a few of them around, Alex was actually helping
us decode the discs that they left behind, in the hope that we would eventually find the rest
of them."

"That's probably why they grabbed him then." John Doggett replied. The paramedic finished
patching his wound, carefully placing gauze and surgical tape over it.

"One of the bastards knocked me out with the butt of their gun." John explained.

"Jesus." Walter ran his hand over his smooth scalp. He turned to Fox, who was standing ashen
faced, nearby.

"Right, we need to get to work and find him." He said his voice filled with a confidence that
that quite frankly, he did not feel.

He knew how these Consortium bastards operated. All Walter could do, was pray that they would find Alex in time.

Pain, that was what filled his world. Pain. Slowly he opened his eyes, then squeezed them
closed as the bright light pierced his retinas, sending a lancing agony through his head.

"Water." He croaked.

One of the guards looked up from the cards he was holding.

"What was that you said?"

Alex groaned and forced his eyes open again. "Water...please.

"Can't you see I'm busy here?" The guard replied to the chuckles of the others sitting around the
wooden table. They were all playing poker, a small pile of money was sitting in the middle
of the table, between them.

"Please." Alex sighed. His mouth was as dry as sandpaper, his fever was raging through his body,

"I'll get it for him." Another guard, a slightly smaller, Hispanic man got to his feet.

Alex watched as he walked over to where a large jug of water was sitting. The guard picked
it up and poured the water into a glass, then carried it over to him.

"Here you go Alex." The guard tipped the glass towards him. Alex opened his mouth to drink, suddenly
the water was dashed into his face. Alex gasped in shock, spluttering.

The other three guards all roared with laughter as the Hispanic guard sat back down again.

Alex sighed and closed his eyes again. he was hanging from a thick beam, his hand manacled tightly to it. A special sling trapped the stump of his arm, forcing it into place above

his head. He had no idea how long he had been hanging naked like this for.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a door opening. Spender entered the room, WMM with him.

"And how is our young man faring?" WMM asked, glancing over to where Alex was hanging.

"Juan just gave him a glass of water." One of the guards replied with a grin.

Spender smiled drily as he watched drops of water running down Alex's face.

"Yes, I can see that."

"Take him down from their and bring him into the Recital Room." WMM ordered.

Alex felt himself lifted down from where he had been hanging. Two of the guards half carried,
half dragged him out of the room and down a long corridor.

"N...no, please..no. God...help me!" Alex screamed as he was hauled roughly down the corridor,
towards the Recital Room. Alex knew this room well, he had seen what
happened to disobedient young operatives who had failed in their
missions, in this particular place. He had often witnessed their punishments there.

Once inside, he was strapped face down to a long table. Thick padded strapped were drawn over
his torso and his arm and legs, and a slightly thinner one at the back of his neck, to
keep his head locked in place.

"Now Alex, I must tell you that I..and the rest of the Consortium are very disapointed in
you." WMM said sadly. "I must say that we had great hopes for you, and what do you do? You betray
us at every turn. You I am afraid to say, have been a thorn in our side for some time now. One that now, we
have decided to pluck out, so to speak."

Alex tried to turn his head, but it was held fast by the strap. "Please, please don't..." He
pleaded.

He tried to struggle, but it was no good. The straps held him fast. There was no escape.

"Ah Marcus, if you please."

A large, thickset man stepped forward, a thick, well oiled leather strap held loosely in one
hand.

"Sir."

"You may begin."

Marcus raised the strap high over his head, then brought it down squarely across Alex's naked
backside.

Alex gritted his teeth, refusing to give into the scream that rose up in his throat.

The strap came down again with amazing force. Alex grunted, tears forming in his eyes.
But still he did not cry out. He would not gives these monsters the satisfaction.

"Won't scream huh son?" he heard Marcus say with amusement. "Don't worry, by the time I'm
finished with you, you'll be howling for mercy."

Alex said nothing, instead he gritted his teeth against the searing blows of the strap,
silently praying for someone to find him and get him the hell out of here.
For someone to take him back home.

Fox lay weeping in Walter's arms. They were both lying in bed after spending a gruelling
day, organizing a search for Alex. Kersh had been most cooperative,
he knew that Alex Krycek was crucial to helping destroy what remained of the Consortium.

Also the fact that Walter had quietly taken the AD aside and told him in no uncertain terms
what he would do to him if he did anything to hinder the Alex's rescue.

"Shhh, it's all right baby." Walter was whispering to the distraught young man.

"We'll find him, I promise. You know Alex, he's a tough little rat, he'll survive this.
I know he will."

Fox shook his head, drawing in a breath, shaky from his tears.

"Walter, you know how sick he is, without his medication, the fever will get worse, he could wind
up with severe respiratory problems. He could end up getting pneumonia
or pleurisy. he could die."

The anguish in his young lover's voice cut Walter to the quick, he knew how frightened Fox
was of both Alex and Walter. He had lost so much in the past. His sister, his father...and
finally his mother. He was all alone, except for Walter and Alex, and the few friends that he had.
Like Dana, John and the Lone Gunmen.

"We'll get him back Fox, I promise you, we will." But Fox would not be comforted. Walter held
him, letting him cry himself to sleep.

Finally Fox succumbed to his exhaustion, Walter held him, kissing the dark hair that smelt
faintly of sweat and apple shampoo. Walter smiled gazing at the face that he had grown to love.

Then his smile faded, he had to find Alex, he realized that his life was not complete without
his sweet little rat.

His mind wandered back to the night when Fox had turned up with Alex in tow, demanding a safe
house to keep Alex in.

In reality, it was too stop Alex from escaping. Walter had punched him in the stomach, then
hand cuffed him to the balconey railing.

"Think warm thoughts..." that's what Walter had told him, after Alex had protested, saying
that he would freeze to death.
Why hadn't he forseen that Spender would make his move as soon as he had? Walter closed his
eyes. This was all his fault, he never should have underestimated the Smoking Man.

"Don't worry Alex." He softly vowed. "We'll find you...and I'll make those bastards pay."

"Well how are you feeling?" WMM asked jovially.

Alex squinted up at the older man. How did he feel? Like he had been run over by a bus, that's how he felt..

He groaned as he sat up, his bones felt as though they were filled with broken glass.
How long had he been lying here for? He noticed his prosthetic arm was
sitting propped up in a corner. Luis Cardinal was sitting near it.

"Would you like some water?" WMM asked solicitously. He filled a glass and handed it to him.

Alex took it gratefully, gulping down the cool sweet tasting liquid.

"There, better now?"

Alex nodded, then gasped as a sharp pain stabbed at the back of his neck. he must have twisted
something while he had been strapped down to the table having his arse beaten black and blue.

"Good, good." WMM turned to Spender, who was sitting quietly to one side, watching the proceedings.

"Would you like to make that call now Charles?"

Spender reached over and picked up a cell phone that had been sitting in front of him on the
table.

He dialled a number and lifted the phone to his ear, all the while, keeping his eyes on Alex.

"Ah, Mr Skinner, hello."

Alex's heart lurched in his chest....Walter!

"Where's Alex?" He heard Walter roar over the phone. Spender smiled thinly.

"He's fine Mr Skinner, he's with us and I can assure you, he is being well taken care of."

" Listen you black lunged son of a bitch, you can assure me of nothing."

For the first time since he had arrived at the Center, for that was where he had been taken.
Alex smiled. It sounded like Walter was going to leap through the phone any minute.
Spender chuckled. "Why Mr Skinner, it sounds like you have a wish to get this young man back?"

Walter stopped, frowning slightly. It sounded as though Spender wanted to do a deal.

"I think we might be able to come to some kind of arraignment." Spender continued smoothly.

A pause, then Walter replied. "I'm listening."

"Good, good." Spender glanced at WMM. "Then this is what we want you to do."

Walter listened, his face set in grim lines. After a few moments, he spoke.

"Fine, if that's what you want Spender, but I get Alex back first, and unharmed. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly Mr Skinner." Spender replied. "We shall be in touch with further instructions"

With that, he hung up the cell phone and set it back down on the table.

"Well?" WMM asked. Spender smiled, satisfied. "He's agreed."

"Good." WMM was well pleased, everything was going according to plan. Now all they had to do,
was simply sit back and wait.