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Title: In Destruction, Beauty
Rating: Up to R, later

Spoilers: General through late Season 1. This takes place somewhere in the void between the events of "1.18-Snowman" and "1.19-The Solution." Back in those days when we knew very little about Sark, Irina wasn't in the game yet, and the SVR was barely a glimmer in the fandom's eye.

Summary: Written for the Sarkney Ficathon. My assignment was for Nic-chan, whose requirements were:
- Tokyo
- Jack interaction
- no S/V of any sort
- set in a timeline late S1


 
 
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
 
 

Part One - First, We Meet

* * * * *

It was still early in the morning when Sydney pulled into the underground parking garage at SD-6. She withdrew her key card from her pocket to insert it into the security console and watched, expressionless, as the machine flashed its confirmation of her identity. She slipped it back into her pocket and pressed her foot onto the gas pedal, sliding through the lot and into her familiar parking space.

Several days had passed since Noah's death, and in those recent days she had begun to rise earlier and earlier, her nights affording her even fewer hours of sleep than the nights before. She'd waved off her father's attempts at condolences or consolation, and decided throwing herself into her work was the best option right now.

Whether intentional or not, she'd begun a sort of tally of everything that had happened in the last year of her life that had worn away at her self-confidence, optimism, and faith. If she were to extend that list past the previous year, she'd have quickly filled a notebook, she knew. Recent events were enough.

Danny. SD-6. Suspicion about her father. Discovering her mother's identity. Meetings with Vaughn that only revealed her own stubbornness and his dedicated ability to follow protocol. Letting Will down. Living with friends she couldn't have a real conversation with. A job she despised, working for a man she loathed. Noah. The DSR. Rambaldi.

The list was long.

The only security she could now rely on was the knowledge that her mother still remained undiscovered, unfound, unknown. Well, that and the fact that SD-6 still exists, she told herself. All the long months of working with the CIA and the years of her ignorance that preceded them seemed to be adding up, but to what purpose she couldn't be sure.

Today, it added up to Sydney walking into the offices of SD-6 a full half-hour before her morning briefing. Her steps were measured and precise, as were her gestures, but they lacked the confidence that she might still have mustered a few months ago.

She left her handbag at her desk, and went to find a cup of coffee before her meeting.


* * * * *

Sydney was surprised to find only her father waiting in the conference room when she arrived. She sat down stiffly, setting her coffee mug down in front of her. Jack turned his chair so that he could face her more easily, and looked back at his daughter.

"Good morning, Sydney," he greeted, simply.

"Dad?" she asked. "Did Sloane assign you to work with me this time?" It was rare that she would be assigned a partner other than Agent Dixon, but then recent weeks had brought many changes in SD-6 operations, subtle or otherwise. After Dixon's close call in Argentina, she knew he was still trying to spend as much free time as possible with Diane, and she wondered if this mission was simple enough that Dixon could be afforded some time off.

But before Jack could respond one way or the other, Sloane entered, briefing notes in hand, followed closely by Marshall. The two men joined them at the conference table, and Sloane slid two folders across the table to Jack and Sydney.

"Good morning - Jack, Sydney," Sloane began, as he sat himself at the head of the table. "I trust everyone is in good form today, because we have a mission for you, leaving this afternoon."

Sydney's eyebrows raised slightly, but she said nothing to indicate any surprise at leaving so soon. It was not an uncommon practice in SD-6 operations.

Sloane pushed a few buttons on a remote control, flashing some images onto the view screens in front of them.

"This should be a fairly simple mission," he explained, looking back at the two Bristows. "Sydney, you'll be our primary operative, and Jack, you'll be co-ordinating Op Tech and Comm relay from a remote location."

Father and daughter both nodded, glancing at the briefing note as well as the schematics on the screen.

"What are we after?" Sydney asked.

"You'll be infiltrating Tanaka Industries," Sloane answered, "where you'll be looking for this device," he explained further. A second image flashed on the screen, revealing an oval-shaped piece of machinery about the size of a laptop computer. "This is a photo of their latest battery cell prototype. It's cutting-edge technology, running purely on methane gas and can produce as many Watts as the average generator, but more efficiently and at a fraction of the cost."

Jack's expression looked concerned. "We've known about methane fuel for some time now," he acknowledged. "What is it about this device that specifically interests SD-6?" he asked. It was a reasonable question, and Sydney looked from Jack to Sloane, waiting to hear the answer.

"Certainly, any new, and more efficient means of power generation are of interest to us," Sloane explained, but he continued by advancing to another slide on the view screen.

"However, this device carries a uniquely designed interface, which bears a remarkable resemblance to that indicated in the known Rambaldi artifacts we have uncovered," he told them. "If we have access to the device, and the circuitry that powers it, it may give us further insight into the design of the Rambaldi machine, as well as delivering a decisive blow to any competitors in the Rambaldi hunt."

Sydney glanced up, looking back over towards Sloane. She knew the Rambaldi device was Sloane's first priority right now, but equally significant was gaining further information about any other Rambaldi followers. Especially information that could be used for SD-6's benefit, or to enhance Sloane's standing within the Alliance.

"You need more information on Takeshi Tanaka, as well?" she asked, although the question was very nearly a confirmation statement, more so than a question.

Sloane smiled a little back at Sydney, and nodded.

"That's correct. Along with this microchip," he explained, "Jack will assist you in uploading some specific packets of data from their secure server. You'll initiate the uplink on site, and Jack will stand by to receive the data."

"Will we return immediately afterwards?" Sydney asked.

"No, not right away. I've arranged with one of the Alliance's Asian operatives to rendezvous with you to receive the chip and a copy of the server data. The details are in your briefing package. It will be a formal function at the American embassy, so you'll need suitable attire. I'm sure you're familiar with our standard protocols, Sydney?"

She nodded.

"Excellent." He stood, then, replacing the remote control on the table. "Marshall will take you through what you'll need to complete the Op Tech. I'll expect a full report within five hours of your return," he told them, before excusing himself from the meeting.

Jack and Sydney remained a few more minutes, listening as Marshall explained the uplink protocols, the ring and necklace he had designed as infrared beacons, and the latest upgrades to their ear pieces and communications devices.

Sydney remembered back to the ball she'd had to attend in Vienna less than two weeks ago, and cringed inwardly at the familiarity of the mission, here. She only hoped that this time, her contact would arrive, and any memories of Noah Hicks would remain deeply buried.


* * * * *

"I'm over the wall," Sydney spoke into her earpiece, as she crept towards the rear entrance of Tanaka Industries' Tokyo headquarters.

Jack was on the receiving end of the signal, and monitored her progress from his console. His unmarked van was parked a couple of city blocks away, and from his remote access he was able to track Sydney's movements through the grounds and into the building.

"All right, Mountaineer," he acknowledged. "You'll need to disable the alarm system, next," he reminded her.

"I'm on it," she responded. She had silently approached the loading bay doors, and took a moment to withdraw her tranquilizer pistol. Three shots later, all of the security guards were hit, and would be down for the count for at least two hours. Unless someone stops by for a visit, she thought.

Sydney knew Sloane could care less whether they used tranquilizer darts or real bullets to disable the guards, but there were times when the violence inherent in her job wore away at her energy. A revolver and spare clip were tucked away in her belted holster, but she preferred to keep the body count to a minimum, especially on such a simple mission.

She reached the doors a few seconds later, and flipped open the security panel that held the alarm system controls. From her carry-all she withdrew a small device that looked like a cellular phone, and when she pulled at it in the right places a few small cables and an interface card hung loose.

"I've reached the alarm panel," she explained, as she slid the card into a key slot at the side of the panel. "The device is in position, you can begin the algorithm when you're ready."

"Copy that," Jack answered.

Takeshi Tanaka was a careful man, and one of the reasons Sloane was so anxious to access this facility so soon, was because of Tanaka's level of security encryption. In another two days, the system would receive an upgrade, and SD-6 would have lost the chance to exploit the weaknesses of which they were aware.

As it was, Marshall had had to work around the clock in the days before the mission, designing a counter-algorithm that would foil the alarm panel and search out a correct access code. Even before Tanaka's security upgrade, the technology in place was state of the art.

"Beginning decryption," Jack responded, after a few taps at his keyboard. "The system should be disabled within two minutes."

"Got it." She waited, turning a watchful eye to the parking area behind her and the relative silence of the space. Beyond the perimeter, the nighttime lights of Tokyo glittered in the vast distance. Not for the first time she wondered what it would be like to stay behind in one of these cities she visited on her missions. Time was always so short, and the tasks always too important, to consider anything else but the mission in front of her.

"You're in," Jack's voice told her in her ear, bringing her back into focus.

Sydney turned back to the console and removed the decryption card. "Copy," she answered. "Heading to the lab now - I'll let you know when I have the device," she told her father through the microphone hidden in her lapel.

As quickly as possible, she navigated her way through the maze of corridors and laboratories inside. Her keycard now enabled with the proper decryption sequence, Sydney could access most of the rooms in the building, and above all the lab that held the power cell they were after. She encountered only one other security guard, who posed little threat as she was able to subdue him swiftly with a single roundhouse kick and a dart to the neck.

A few moments later, she had reached the electronics lab, and entered after a quick swipe of the keycard. Closing the door behind her, she took in the size of the room and the large number of devices that were obviously still in production. There were dozens of lab benches, each holding a Tanaka Industries design in some phase of development.

After a few steps into the room and another visual sweep, she found the one she'd been looking for. "Found it," she spoke into her microphone, letting Jack know her progress. She approached the appropriate lab bench, verifying that she had indeed found the right object. The sleek, gray device was identical to the photographs and specs they had examined at SD-6 in preparation for the mission.

She searched with nimble fingers for the right groove in the device's casing, eventually finding the circuits they needed. "I've got the power chip," she told Jack, before heading over to the lab's observation room. One section of the lab was separated by glass partitions, and held the secure computer consoles that she needed in order to access the server. She reached the computer station and reached into her bag for the second little gadget Marshall had prepared for her.

"I'm accessing the server now," she identified for Jack, as she initiated the uplink protocol.

"Copy that," he answered. "The data stream is uploading, another minute and we should have it."

"Got it," she repeated, waiting as the transfer finished.

"Sydney," Jack's voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. "I'm reading someone else in the building, heading in your direction," he told her. "You may have to deal with another security guard," he advised, watching a red spot move across one of his computer screens.

She looked up, her gaze sweeping the room even more alertly than before. "How far?" she asked.

"40 metres, and closing," he reported.

"I'll be ready," she answered. "How much longer on the uplink?" she asked, now impatient to leave the building.

"Almost finished?" Jack responded, just as impatiently as his daughter.

A seemingly interminable twenty seconds passed before the uplink finished, and Jack had the data that Sloane wanted for the Alliance's analysis. Sydney quickly gathered her few belongings, and dashed out through the glass doors.

"All set," she told Jack hurriedly. "I'll see you at the extraction point as soon as possible," she finished.

There was only one entrance or exit to the lab, and she made a beeline for it without wasting any more time. Just as she was through the door, however, she rounded the corner and was suddenly face-to-face with the individual Jack had tried to warn her about.

But this man was no security guard. Blinking a little in the corridor's dim light, Sydney took in the figure of a young, blond man, who was holding what looked like a Glock .45 pointing in her direction. Her hesitation lasted another few seconds before she recognized the man as the mysterious Mr. Sark. Thus far her interactions with him had been limited to observing him through the glass window pane of a shaded warehouse, as he carried out Khasinau's - and 'the Man's - orders.

"Mr. Sark," she responded reflexively, having halted her movements a few steps away from him. Her arms hung loose at her side, and she felt the weight of her own revolver pressing against her side. She wondered if she could be quick enough to use it, or if that would even be necessary. Steadying her stance, she faced him with a hard expression.

"Good evening, Miss Bristow," he said, his tone even and cool.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, taken aback. Her response had turned into an expression of annoyance, added to her already rising impatience.

"You'd be surprised what I know about you, Sydney," he answered, taking a step towards her. "And I must say, you saved me a great deal of trouble tonight. I debated whether or not my own decryption sequence would be sufficient to disarm the security alarm - but then you arrived right on schedule, and it turned out I didn't need to worry about disabling anything at all."

"What do you want?" Sydney spat back at him, ready to move past him and be done with this mission - this mission that was supposed to have been so simple.

"I know what you came here for," he told her, sending an uneasy feeling waving through her stomach.

"Oh you do?" she asked, hoping she was sufficiently feigning skepticism.

"Indeed." He held out one hand, keeping the pistol trained on her. "The fuel cell computer chip, if you would, Miss Bristow."

She raised one eyebrow, pausing before responding.

His cool exterior evidently did not run as deep as he made out, as he quickly raised a thumb to cock the pistol. "Without delay, if you don't mind," he told her, the hint of sarcasm waning in his voice.

Sydney nodded quickly. "Fine, have it your way."

She lifted her hands to the carry-all that was slung across her shoulder. Bending to reach inside, she kept Sark in her peripheral vision. She seized the only opportunity she might have, and spun a hand out towards him, knocking the pistol out of his hands.

He was taken briefly by surprise, but responded with a force equal to hers, delivering a swift blow to her shoulder.

Sydney was thrown backwards, against the nearest wall. Gathering her thoughts and actions into focus, she kicked out at him, the heel of her boot landing at the side of his knee.

For the next few minutes they carried on in the same fashion, each agent meeting the other, blow for blow. Finally, just as Sydney had come out of a spin and knocked him to the ground, Sark took advantage of his low position and reached for his boot. A second later he held a knife in his hand, drawn from a small holster at his leg.

She paused in her movements, redirecting her thoughts towards the knife in Sark's hand. Knives could be much more difficult to sidestep than other weapons, and certainly harder to withstand than punches and kicks.

Sark made use of her moment of hesitation. Before she could regain her advantage, he had swung out with his knife, and she stepped past him expertly.

His aim had not been for her body, however, but for the strap of her shoulder bag. It snapped under the slice of his blade, and fell to the ground at Sark's feet. He stood quickly, then, grasping the bag under his arm.

"Now then," he said, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He held the knife out, towards her. "I'm afraid I have to be going," he told her, as the tone of his voice assumed a familiar lilt. "I apologize for the inconvenience," he added, much to her disbelief, "But I can promise you the chip will be returned to you."

Sydney sniffed in derision. "How considerate of you," she responded. She could feel the heat of that first blow to her shoulder, and knew a bruise would form there, soon. Her breathing was still slightly laboured. "And why should I believe you?"

He tilted an eyebrow upwards, shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose you have no reason to," he admitted, "all I can tell you is that my employer only wishes to borrow the device, not keep it from SD-6. Consider it a loan, even a favour."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you before you even make it out of here," she responded.

He let his gaze roam along her for a moment, as if assessing her ability to make good on her threat. "All I can say is that I hope our next meeting will be far more...cordial," he told her.

And then he was gone.

* * * * *

Part 2

 
 

 

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