From: dmcintoshtx@yahoo.com   
      
   Title: DAMAGED SOULS   
      
   Author: Donna McIntosh   
      
   Fandom: X-Files   
      
   Pairing: Skinner/Krycek   
      
   Genre: Slash   
      
   Rating: NC-17 FRAO   
      
   Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter; not to me. I just   
   let them have a little more fun than he did.   
      
   Summary: Skinner rushes to Central America to rescue Mulder and finds   
   out it's not really Mulder being held, but an old enemy; Alex Krycek.   
      
   DAMAGED SOULS   
      
   "Sir? Special Delivery letter for you. It's from Honduras." Kim said   
   as she dropped the letter on Skinner's desk.   
      
   "Honduras?" Skinner closed the file he'd been working on and picked up   
   the letter. "Thanks" he added as she headed back to the outer office.   
      
   He studied the writing on the envelope while he mentally ran through   
   all his agents current locations. None were in South or Central   
   America. He tore off the end of the envelope, blew in it, then pulled   
   out the single piece of paper and read.   
      
   "Senor Mr. Walter Skinner Sir. I write this letter to you for   
   Green-eyes. He say write you and you will come take him away from this   
   place of hell. Please come help him. They keep him locked up in chains   
   and do bad things to him. He cries and begs for death. If you no come   
   for him I think death will. He say tell you name is Fox Mulder. Please   
   senor, come help him. He is in Tela in small cantina Los Dos Amigos.   
   He is in basement. These men are very bad men. Very mean. Por Dio, por   
   forvor, venga!   
      
   Maria"   
      
   "Shit! Mother fucking shit!" Skinner stood and paced the floor as he   
   tried to remember when the last time he spoke with Mulder. It had been   
   some time; at least a month or more. What the hell was he doing in   
   Honduras?   
      
   He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Mulder's number. It went   
   directly to voice mail. He tried Scully's number. She answered on the   
   third ring.   
      
   "Scully?"   
      
   "Dana, it's Skinner. Is Mulder by any chance with you?"   
      
   "No he isn't. Did you try his number?"   
      
   "I did. It went right to voice mail. I really need to talk with him.   
   Do you have any idea where I can reach him?"   
      
   "Not really. We had kind of a disagreement a couple weeks ago and I   
   haven't talked with him since. Is anything wrong? Anything I can help   
   with?"   
      
   "No, nothing. I just had something I needed his opinion on. Listen, I   
   may be going out of town for a few days. If you hear from him or come   
   up with any ideas where he might be, I'd appreciate it if you'd call me."   
      
   "OK, sure. But I have no idea when I'll hear from him."   
      
   "Thanks anyway. I guess I'll just keep trying his cell."   
      
   "Did you leave a message?"   
      
   "No; I didn't. I'll call back and do that. Thanks, Dana."   
      
   He called Mulder again and left a message to call him immediately. He   
   paced the floor a little more then called his secretary in.   
      
   "Kim, make a reservation for me on the next flight to Honduras.   
   Reschedule my meetings for the next few days."   
      
   Skinner drove home, hoping all the way that his cell would ring and   
   Mulder would be on the other end. It didn't happen. He took a shower   
   and packed a few things. Even as he drove to the airport he still   
   hoped that Mulder might call. He didn't.   
      
   Skinner boarded the plane and as he sat and waited for take off he   
   reread the letter again. What the hell could Mulder be doing in   
   Honduras? Once they were in the air he decided to try and get what   
   sleep he could. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and he needed to   
   face it with at least some sleep.   
      
   The flight was smooth as far as Tegucigalpa and he did manage to get   
   some sleep on the way. Once there he boarded a small plane for the   
   three hour flight to Tela. The morning was bright and the sun hot as   
   he made his way through the tiny airport. There was a rental car there   
   for him; old, beat up, but it ran. He followed instructions into town   
   and stopped at the recommended hotel. His room was small and furnished   
   with a bed, a chest, a table and two chairs; all looked to be vintage   
   40s. The only bit of comfort was the ceiling fan that squeaked when he   
   turned it on. He opened a window but that offered little relief to the   
   stifling heat of the room. He wondered what the afternoon would be   
   like if the morning was this hot.   
      
   He glanced up and down the street but couldn't spot the cantina Los   
   Dos Amigos. He decided to take a walk and scope the place out. He made   
   his way down the stairs and nodded to others as they passed by. Out on   
   the sidewalk he felt a little better. Sitting for hours on end always   
   keyed him up and that was that last thing he needed right now. He   
   needed a clear head so he could think and plan.   
      
   There it was, Cantina Los Dos Amigos. Nothing much going on inside as   
   he passed by. He walked to the end of the block and turned around and   
   walked back. This time he decided to go in. Only a few other patrons   
   in the dimly lit place; they looked him over as he walked in then   
   turned back to their conversations. He took a seat at the bar and   
   ordered a beer.   
      
   He sipped his drink and was about to ask the bar tender if he was one   
   of the Dos Amigos the place was named for when someone from the back   
   shouted, "Cerveza!" The way he jumped told Skinner immediately that   
   this man was not an owner; he was far too frightened of whoever was   
   yelling at him. The man grabbed a beer from the cooler and hurried   
   into the back room with it. Once back, he busied himself wiping the bar.   
      
   "Do you speak English?" Skinner asked.   
      
   "Si, … er … Yes, I speak the English very good."   
      
   "So tell me, what does everyone do for a little entertainment around   
   here?"   
      
   "You're doin it. We drink, we talk, we laugh, then we go home to the   
   family."   
      
   "Ah, yes; the family. What if a man doesn't have any family? Would   
   there be any … entertainment for a man like him?"   
      
   "Well that would depend, senor."   
      
   "On what?" Skinner pulled his wallet out and flashed a wad of money as   
   he paid for his beer.   
      
   "On what kind of entertainment you like. There are some nice girls   
   here in Tela. Very nice, very young. You like them young; si?"   
      
   "Not too young; thirties maybe and not of the female persuasion;   
   possible?" Skinner eased a twenty out and slid it across the bar to   
   him for the information.   
      
   "Senor, anything is possible; if you can afford it." The bar tender   
   said with a smile as he pocketed the twenty.   
      
   "Well I'm just passing through on business. I just closed a big deal   
   and I made my bosses a lot of money. They are footing the bills so if   
   I add a little to the bill for entertainment purposes I'm sure they   
   won't complain."   
      
   "It will cost more than a little, I think."   
      
   "My entertainment usually does. They haven't complained so far."   
   Skinner grinned back at him.   
      
   "One moment, senor." The bar tender tossed the towel down and went   
   into the back. He came back out as far as the door way and motioned   
   Skinner to follow him. Skinner drained the last of his beer and went   
   into the back room. They walked down a hallway and into a sitting room   
   where two men sat playing cards and smoking cigars.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)