Title: First Impressions |
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Chapters 21-25 |
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Chapter 21 “No, Mr. Vaughn, you cannot help me,” Jack says, pushing past Michael and walking through the door. Sydney looks at him with a shocked expression. “Dad?” she asks. “What are you doing here?” “That’s the question I would like to ask you, young lady,” he says sternly. “And I will, but there’s time for that later. Get dressed, we’re going to my hotel. Mr. Vaughn can gather your things together and I will pick them up later.” “No, Dad,” Sydney says, jutting her chin out defiantly. “Sydney,” Jack says in a dangerous tone of voice. It makes Sydney falter and she looks at Michael. “Mr. Bristow, I know you’re upset,” Michael says, coming to stand beside Sydney, “but…” “You don’t know anything. Sydney, get dressed now,” he says, leaving no room for discussion. Sydney has seen him like this before, and she knows that it would be best to go with him now and sort things out later. At least he’s not bringing her directly to the airport, so she can call Michael from the hotel. “Okay Dad,” she says, turning towards the bedroom. She gets changed quickly, knowing how uncomfortable it must be for Michael out there. She can hear him pleading with her dad, but she knows it’s no use. He won’t budge when he’s like this. Sydney walks out of the bedroom and heads to the door. She feels as if she’s in a horrible dream. She looks at Michael and she can tell that he feels helpless. “I’ll call you,” she says to him as she walks out. “I will be back within the hour,” Jack says to Michael, ignoring Sydney’s comment. He follows her out the door and closes it behind him. They are both silent during the ride to the hotel. Sydney keeps waiting for her dad to say something, but he doesn’t. His face is as unreadable as always. “Dad,” she finally says when they are in his room at the Marriott. “Sydney, this is not up for discussion. I am unhappy with you. I trusted you, and you broke that trust.” “I love him, Dad.” “I’m sorry, Sydney, but that’s not good enough,” he says as he walks out the door. Sydney sits down on one of the double beds, trying not to cry. She calms herself for a moment before picking up the hotel phone and dialing Michael’s number. “Hello?” he picks up. “Michael…” “Syd, are you okay?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice. “Not really, are you?” she asks. “I’ve been better,” he tells her. “I guess we deserve this though, we did go behind his back. If you were my daughter, I would probably react the same way.” “I guess so, but I don’t know why he’s chosen now to suddenly become concerned with my life,” she says. “Michael, he’s on his way back over there now.” “I think he wants to kick my ass. Why didn’t you tell me your dad was in such good shape?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood. “Michael,” Sydney says, her voice breaking. The tears that she’s been holding back start sliding down her face. “Shh, Syd,” Michael soothes, “it’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” “I love you, Michael.” “I love you too. Everything’s going to work out. Sweetie, I’d better get your things together before your dad gets here. I hope to Hell it doesn’t come to you having to leave England, but I don’t want to piss him off further by not having them ready.” “Yeah,” Sydney agrees. “And Syd, if it does come to you leaving England, I’ll follow you back to L.A. I love you, Baby, we’ll work this out.” “I love you too,” she says, choking back a sob, “so much.” “I know Syd. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” “Okay,” she says, nodding although he can’t see her. “Bye Syd.” “Bye.” Jack returns with Sydney’s backpack and a few other bags and sets them in the alcove by the door. Sydney looks at him expectantly, but he says nothing. “Dad, can’t I have my own room?” she asks. “I don’t intend to take my eye off you, Sydney,” he says, ironically not looking at her. “Where would I go, Dad? You’d know where to find me.” “Don’t insult my intelligence, Sydney. You think I don’t know you would take off with that boy at a moment’s notice?” “How did you know where to find me, Dad? Did you talk to Meredith?” she asks, thinking that she’s the only one who knew where Sydney was. “It’s not important Sydney,” he says, which clinches it in her mind. How else would he be able to track her down? She had sent him postcards from Paris and Amsterdam when she and Michael had made weekend trips to those locations, trying to create the illusion that she was touring Europe. Not knowing what else to do, Sydney changes back into her pajamas and climbs into the bed nearest the window. She hears her dad typing on a laptop, and she bitterly thinks that even now, work is his top priority. Sydney sleeps fitfully, waking up every couple of hours and expecting Michael to be beside her. When she sees her dad in the next bed, the tears threaten to fall again. The morning comes and Sydney showers by rote. She looks at the breakfast her dad ordered from room service, but she can’t touch it. “You should eat something, Sydney. We fly out in a couple of hours.” “What? Dad! You’re not even going to let me say goodbye to him?” “He should be here in a couple of minutes.” Sydney is shocked. Michael’s coming here to the room? Why? There’s a knock on the door and she almost runs to answer it. Michael is there, looking grim. “Hi,” she says, letting him in. “Hi Sydney,” he says in an odd tone of voice. “I’m going to the lobby,” Jack tells them, walking to the door, “I’ll be back in half an hour. Then we’re leaving for the airport.” He walks out the door and closes it behind him. “Michael!” Sydney says, rushing into his arms. He hugs her back stiffly. “Michael, what’s wrong?” “Sydney,” he says, pulling away from her and sitting down in a chair. “What’s the matter? Why do you keep calling me Sydney instead of Syd?” she asks, alarm bells going off. “Syd, your dad’s right,” he says seriously. “What? What do you mean? What did he say to you?” She’s starting to panic. He looks so serious and amazingly calm. His face is white and his eyes are red, showing that he didn’t get much sleep last night, but he looks determined too. “You’re so young, Sydney. It’s not right for you to be living here with me. You have to go to school and forget about me.” “But, Michael, I’m going to go in the fall. What’s the… I don’t get it. That doesn’t mean we have to break up.” “It does, Syd,” he says, nodding. He’s looking away from her, focusing on an imaginary spot on the carpet. “Why?” she asks, trying to keep the panic she feels out of her voice. “Michael, what’s going on? What happened to all the things you said last night, that you’d follow me back to L.A.?” Michael shakes his head, and she wonders if he’s going to answer her. “Sydney,” he says at last, “I did a lot of thinking after your dad left last night. This isn’t just about him. I think that I’ve been on some kind of power trip with you. I’ve always known, since we first met, that you had strong feelings for me. And that’s heady stuff. When you were with that other guy, something clicked. I thought it was love, but now I think maybe it was just me not wanting to lose that adoration.” “Michael, that’s not true!” she cries out. “We’re in love, you… you were my first.” “Sydney, every guy loves to be the one a girl loses her virginity to.” She feels as if someone’s shoved a knife in her heart. She can’t believe he just said that. She remembers back all those years ago when Danielle, the girl he was seeing, said almost the exact same thing to her. She feels the hot tears streaming down her face and she can’t look at him. “I’m sorry, Syd,” he says, getting up, “but it’s over.” She still doesn’t look up, but she hears him walk to the door and open it. She wants to go after him, to plead with him to reconsider, but she doesn’t. He’s made himself clear, and she’s got a little pride left. She hears the door click and she finally looks up. He’s gone. Chapter 22 Sydney lies on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She just tried to call Michael’s old number in England. She didn’t know that it was his old number for sure until she tried it and got a recorded message that the number was no longer in service, but she wasn’t surprised. It’s been over a year since her dad forced her to return to L.A. and Michael walked out of her life. Life is finally improving. She’s a freshman at UCLA, she has a great roommate named Francie, and the biggest and weirdest change in her life: she’s working for SD-6, a black ops division of the CIA. She has trouble believing that’s true even when she hears it in her head, but it is. After she left England, she spent a few months basically lying in bed, depressed. Her dad had wanted her to start at UCLA in January, but she just couldn’t. She did manage to get herself together enough to apply for the fall, and by the time summer rolled around she was starting to feel a little better. Michael was still on her mind ninety percent of the time, but the pain was easing a little bit. By the end of the summer she was actually looking forward to school. Early in the school year, she even managed to have a little crush on this guy Dean from one of her classes. And then there’s Noah. He works for SD-6 also, and she was recently on her first real mission with him in Paris. It was kind of a mess, but it made her realize that she can have feelings for someone else. He hasn’t made her forget about Michael, but she doubts that anyone will ever be able to. She wishes she could forget about him, stop holding on to the memory of what they had, or rather what she thought they had. Obviously he never felt the same way about her that she felt about him, or he never would have left in her in the cold way that he did. One minute he was saying that he loved her and would follow her to L.A., and the next he was turning his back on her. She knows that her dad must have said something to scare him away, but Michael’s cruel comments about her virginity made her believe that he never cared for her the way she thought he did. The Michael she thought she knew would never have said something like that, nor would he let them be separated over anything her dad had to say. No. She thought she knew him, but she never really did at all. Sydney wouldn’t have believed it to be possible, but her relationship with her dad has become even more strained since they left England. She tried to find out what he said to Michael, and why he was so adamant to break them up, but with no success. He just ignored her when she brought it up. She’s barely spoken to him since she moved into the dorm, and he doesn’t exactly make an effort to call her either. “Hey Syd,” Francie says, walking into their dorm room. “What’s up?” Sydney sits up and looks at her ruefully. “I called Michael,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “What, are you serious?” Francie asks, dropping her books on her bed. “Did you talk to him?” “No, the number was disconnected. Not that I’m surprised, it’s been over a year.” “What made you decide to call?” “I don’t know,” Sydney says, lying back down. “I was just missing him.” “Syd, he was a total jerk to you. You have to get over him. Why don’t we go out tonight, get your mind off things? I heard about this floor party in one of the other dorms. It’s not open to everyone, but I know a guy who lives on the floor and he can sneak us in.” “I don’t know, Fran,” Syd says, shaking her head. “I’ve got so much homework to do and I have to work at the bank tomorrow.” “Tomorrow’s Saturday, Syd.” Francie points out. “I know, but they asked me to come in to do some work on an important project,” Sydney lies. Francie sighs and shakes her head. “You let them walk all over you.” “They just asked. I said yes.” “Whatever,” Francie says, rolling her eyes. “But I still think we should go to the party.” “I can’t, Fran. I’m sorry.” Truthfully, Sydney just feels like being alone this evening and wallowing. She has hardly allowed herself to think about Michael since she joined SD-6, or at least not long sessions of uninterrupted thinking about him. And that’s exactly what she has planned for tonight. “Alright, Syd,” Francie says, giving up. “But tomorrow when you’re done at the bank, we are going to go have some fun. Deal?” “Deal.” ~~ “What are you thinking about, Syd?” Noah asks, curled up behind her in bed. “Um, nothing,” Sydney lies. “You’re a good spy, Sydney, but you’re going to have to work on your lying,” he says, kissing her neck. Sydney can’t tell him that her thoughts are drifting to Michael. After everything that’s happened and all the time that’s gone by, she just can’t seem to forget about him. Noah is great, and their relationship is growing stronger. A relationship that they have to hide from pretty much everyone, but a relationship nonetheless. Francie has met him, as a co-worker from the bank. But she knows that their relationship is a secret, and she doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway. “I was just thinking about how we have to keep our relationship a secret,” she says. Apparently she does a better job lying this time because Noah accepts this. “I know. But we love each other and that’s all that matters,” he says. “I do love you, Syd, more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” “I know,” she says. “I love you too.” She can’t fully reciprocate his feelings though, because she doesn’t love him more than she’s ever loved anyone. She has loved Michael in one form or another since she was fourteen years old, and that’s really hard to beat. Maybe someday she’ll learn to love Noah as much, but that day hasn’t yet arrived. She knows that she’s not being fair to Noah by not being able to let Michael go, but she’s not ready yet. It’s been almost two years since she’s seen or spoken to him, but there is a void inside her that was left when he walked out of that hotel room in Slough, and she doesn’t know how to fill it. Sydney sighs. “It’s going to be okay, Syd,” Noah says, misinterpreting her sigh. She wishes that she shared his confidence. Chapter 23 Sydney slows down to a jog, waiting for Will to catch up with her. “Syd, you’re on a mission today,” he says, panting. Sydney smiles at his choice of words. “Okay, spill.” “Spill what?” she asks, stopping and grabbing her bottle of water. “Something is obviously bothering you,” he says. “You run like that when something is bothering you. Did you have a fight with Danny?” “No,” Sydney says, shaking her head, “nothing like that. I don’t know. I guess I’ve just got an old ghost haunting me today.” “What kind of old ghost?” “Oh, you know,” she says, shrugging, “an old boyfriend ghost.” “Really,” Will says, his voice betraying his intrigue. “You’ve never told me about your old boyfriends.” Sydney sits down on the grass in the middle of the track and leans back. Will sits down across from her and waits for her to divulge. “Well, I haven’t had many,” she says, playing with her shoelace. “Three.” “Oh come on! Are you trying to tell me that you weren’t a total heartbreaker in high school?” “That’s what I’m telling you. One of my boyfriends, Derek, was in high school, but…” “But what?” “I was in love with the same guy all through high school.” “What, like a crush?” Will asks. “Yeah, sort of, but we had a relationship, a friendship. See, he was quite a bit older than me. When I was eighteen, it became more. We fell in love.” “What happened?” Sydney’s face clouds over and she looks away from Will. “I guess it was one-sided after all. He didn’t love me the way I loved him. He walked out of my life. I had a really hard time getting over him. Part of me still isn’t over him.” “What’s his name?” Will asks. “Michael,” she says, getting up and brushing blades of grass from her butt. She hopes Will gets the message that she doesn’t really want to talk about this anymore. “Well,” he says, standing up, “Michael is clearly an idiot. But now you have Danny, and you two are getting pretty serious, right?” “Yeah, we are,” she says sincerely. She hears a hint of regret in Will’s voice. She knows how he feels about her, but she’s never felt more than friendship toward him. He’s a great friend, but the chemistry was just never there. Danny is a different story. The attraction was there right from the beginning. She loves everything about him: he’s brilliant, funny, compassionate, and he’s deliciously hot. He’s got a bright future as a pediatric cardiologist, and she really believes that they have a future together. The thought scares her a little. The last person she gave all of herself to was Michael, and that turned out really badly. Of course, she hasn’t completely given herself to Danny, and she won’t be able to until she leaves SD-6. Until then, she will always have secrets from him. But she tells him everything else about her life, including her romantic past. He knows about Michael, and as much about Noah as she can tell him. Noah. That ended badly too, but not with the same devastation as with Michael. Her relationship with Noah was passionate, exciting and tumultuous, and ended with him disappearing. She was affected, but not heartbroken. She’s moved on, and she smiles as she thinks about Danny. “What are you thinking about now?” Will asks, breaking the companionable silence they’ve been walking in. “Danny,” she says. “Syd,” Will says, taking her arm and stopping her, “I’m glad you’re happy.” “Thanks,” she says, hugging him. She understands what it’s costing him to say so, she appreciates it. ~~ Sydney looks at her left hand, the diamond sparkling in the sunlight. She can’t believe that she’s engaged. Yesterday, Danny got down on his knees in the quad and belted out “Build Me Up Buttercup” at the top of his lungs. Then he proposed. Sydney didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. And she said yes. Sydney can see normal life looming on the horizon. She’s not quite ready to quit the CIA, but that time will come. She’ll teach English, and Danny will save lives. They’ll have a couple of kids, and there will be no more lies. Lying is the one thing that puts a damper on her happiness. She wishes she didn’t have to lie to Danny. Something else is nagging at her as well. As much as she wants to banish him from her thoughts and heart, Michael has crossed her mind a few times since yesterday. She loves Danny, but she can’t help remembering that she once thought she’d be in this position with Michael. But that’s ancient history, and Sydney pushes the thought aside. You can’t change the past, and as painful as it was, Sydney doesn’t think she would want to. Everything happens for a reason, and she’s happy with her life now. She’s got everything she wants. She’s got wonderful friends, a job that makes her feel like she’s making a difference in the world, and an incredible fiancé. Life is good. Chapter 24 Sydney walks down the street, her strides confident and her purpose clear. She enters the building she’s been heading toward, and as she walks across the CIA emblem on the floor, the enormity of what she’s doing hits her. “May I help you?” the receptionist asks when she reaches the front desk. “I need to speak to your director, Mr. Devlin,” Sydney says, as if people ask to see the director every day. “I’m sorry, Mr. Devlin is not available, may I leave a message?” the receptionist asks, not bothering to call upstairs. “Tell him he has a walk-in,” Sydney tells her, knowing that she’s said the magic words. The receptionist picks up the phone and hits a button. “Roxanne, we have a walk-in for Mr. Devlin. Yes,” she says into the telephone. And then coming around the counter, “Come with me, please.” The receptionist leads her to an elevator, and they travel to the 8th floor. She leads her to what looks like a meeting room and asks her to wait. She offers Sydney a seat, but she declines, wanting to be on equal footing when the director enters the room. When he does enter the room, she wishes she had decided to sit. It’s not CIA Director Devlin who makes her legs almost give out, and it’s not the heavy-set agent to his right. It’s the agent to his left, standing there looking gravely at her. It’s the man who has haunted her dreams since she was fourteen years old. The face she’s loved and hated so much over the past twelve years. Michael Vaughn. She tries to hide her shock, but she knows he can see it. She doesn’t want the others to notice, so she uses every ounce of training she’s had to bury the fact that she knows him. Thoughts and questions are speeding through her head at a rate that would break a radar, but her face is the epitome of calm. “Ms. Bristow,” Devlin says, “I’m CIA Director Devlin.” “How did you…” she begins to ask, but of course they know who she is. She resists the urge to look at Michael. “This is Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Weiss. They will be taking your statement,” he says. He leaves the room and Sydney is forced to look at Michael. There’s something in his eyes that’s pleading with her, but she ignores it. Instead she sits down at the table. “Should we get started then?” she asks. “Okay,” Michael says, handing her a stack of paper and a pen. “Why don’t you start writing about how you got involved with SD-6 and what’s brought you here. I have to go take care of a few things, but I’ll be back. Mr. Weiss will stay here with you.” Sydney is thankful that he’s leaving; she doesn’t know how she would be able to concentrate on the task at hand with him standing over her. He leaves and she begins to write. ~~ Sydney’s hand is beginning to cramp when Michael comes back into the room. He’s carrying coffee and some doughnuts. “Here’s some more coffee and something to eat,” he says. Sydney ignores him and the plate of food, concentrating on her statement. “Um just, uh, let… let Mr. Weiss know if you need anything else,” he says uncomfortably. “New pen, this one’s dying,” she says without looking up. Out of periphery of her vision, she sees Mr. Weiss hand Michael a pen. “Thanks,” Michael says and sets it down on the table in front of her. She fluidly picks it up, uncaps it and resumes writing. She barely takes notice when Michael leaves the room again. ~~ Sydney sits in Michael’s office, waiting for him to enter. This will be the first time they’ll be alone together and she feels incredibly nervous. She looks around his office, and her eyes rest on a framed photograph on the filing cabinet beside his desk. It’s of him and a pretty blonde woman. Blondes. He always had a thing for blondes. They look happy, and the thought makes her heart contract. She’s surprised that she has anything left to feel. She thought her heart had reached its maximum pain capacity with Danny’s death, but apparently not. Apparently there’s room enough to mourn for every lost love. She wonders if she’ll run into Noah soon, and have the section of her heart reserved for him refilled with pain. Michael enters the room and walking by the photograph, turns it so that it’s no longer facing her. He sits down at the desk and gives her a little smile. “Well, this could be very interesting,” he says. Interesting? Sydney can’t believe he’s making light of the situation, but if that’s the way he’s going to play it, she’ll ignore their past as well. “Does that mean I’m in?” she asks. “No, not yet. They’re reviewing your statement. Uh it’s… you wrote a lot.” “I know,” she says, looking away from him. “I mean it’s like Tolstoy long,” he says with a grin. “Devlin says it could take weeks to verify. But I know we could use another double agent in SD-6.” Sydney smiles and shakes her head at that. Who does he think he’s talking to? Maybe he thinks she’s the same naïve girl he used to know. “So we’ll be in contact,” he continues. “I’m gonna get you a ride out of here, keep you concealed. Why are you shaking your head?” “Because you said another.” “So?” he asks. “So if you really had one already you most likely wouldn’t tell me until I was authenticated,” she says, staring him down. “Syd…” he starts. She doesn’t like him changing the rules, acting like he knows her. She’s more comfortable in the dance they’re doing, so she cuts him off. “My bet is you don’t. Have another double.” “We might,” he counters. “But you want me to believe that you do. So that on the off chance that I’m actually looking to be a triple agent, I’ll report back that there’s an existing mole, to upset the balance of my agency,” she says seriously. He grins at her throughout her speech, and it pisses her off. “I’m not trying to play you,” he says, and she almost laughs at the irony. Didn’t he play her the whole time she knew him? Didn’t he string her along until she was old enough for him to legally sleep with her and then toss her away? “We’ll see,” she says, not returning his stupid grin. They’re both silent for a moment, and then Sydney grimaces from the pain her teeth are causing her. “Ah you need a dentist. Do you have one, because I can get you a name,” he says, acting concerned. “I’m all right,” Sydney says. She rises from her chair and starts to leave. She can’t sit here with him anymore, especially when he’s acting so sweet towards her. He’s acting like the Michael she loved, not the Michael she’s been vilifying for the past eight years. “Sydney,” he says, trying to stop her. “I said I’m all right,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. Then turning around, she leaves without looking back. Chapter 25 Sydney walks across campus, her stomach churning with nerves. She has a meeting with Michael in five minutes, and she dreads the thought of seeing him again. Vaughn, she corrects herself. Thinking of him as Michael reminds her of what they had, what they were, and that’s too painful. Vaughn. Professional. She rounds a corner and the bloodmobile where Vaughn is waiting comes into sight. She stops for a moment to collect herself. The last thing she wants is for him to see the turmoil he causes in her, so she puts on her ‘tough girl’ mask and approaches the van. “Hi Sydney,” he says as she steps inside. “Hello Mr. Vaughn,” she says. He looks at her oddly, but doesn’t comment on the formality of her greeting. “Okay, let’s get down to business.” She takes off her backpack and sits down at a small table. “Okay,” Vaughn says hesitantly, sitting down next to her. Sydney begins telling him about some of the pertinent figures that SD-6 associates with. Leonard Dreyfus, Ineni Hassan. She figures that the quickest way to immobilize SD-6 is to bring down their contacts. Vaughn writes something down every once in awhile, but mostly he just tries to interrupt, which pisses her off. “Okay, stop,” Vaughn says, finally cutting her off. “You have to listen to me now, okay?” “You said you wanted to talk about the plan. I’m giving you the plan.” “It’s not your job to give me the plan, I’m giving you the plan. Tomorrow’s your first day back at SD-6. Now, nothing should change. When you get your assignment, you’ll detail your mission on a paper bag. Bag,” he says, picking one up to show her, which irritates her. She clenches her jaw and says nothing. “Then you’ll call this number. Memorize it. After three tones, press the appropriate digit, one through six. Each corresponds to a trash can at a specific location. Now we’ll dead drop, review your information, create a counter-mission, and we’ll contact you posing as a wrong number, Joey’s Pizza. Any questions so far?” Sydney would like to ask him a question alright; she’d like to ask his jaw how it likes her fist. “Yeah,” she says instead, “Can you show me what a bag looks like again?” Vaughn sighs and rolls his eyes, looking away from her. “Now, you listen to me, Mr. Vaughn,” she says, leaning forward. “I appreciate what your job is here, even though I think you're a little young to be doing it.” She throws the dig about his age in to show him that their age gap isn’t so significant anymore, and that he no longer has the upper hand. “To establish a protocol between the C.I.A. and their latest double agent. But I'm not sitting here to pick up the ins and outs of Langley procedure.” “Sydney…” “I am sitting here for one reason only,” she continues, “and that is to destroy SD-6!” “Hey!” Vaughn says, offended. “After which I am out! I want no more of this spy crap, that's why I went to you in the first place. So, listen to me and I will hand you, in record time, the people who will render SD-6 useless.” “Record time,” he repeats. “Two months, tops. And then I am out. I walk.” Vaughn is silent for a moment, and Sydney wonders what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s considering the implications of that. Maybe he’ll be more co-operative knowing that he’ll be rid of her again within a couple of months. He tears off the top sheet of a yellow notepad and sets it aside. “Draw me a map. Draw me a map of SD-6, all its allies. How far you think it reaches,” he says, handing her the pad and a pen. “Do I look like I'm in Junior High?” she asks, offended that he would ask her to do something so demeaning. “Just… just draw me a SD-6 family tree…” he says impatiently. “Are there braces on my teeth...” “How deep you think it goes!” he continues, yelling to be heard over her protestations. “Or headgear? Do you see a retainer?” “Just do it!” he says in a tone of finality. Sydney looks at him with near hatred, but relents. She picks up the pen and quickly draws a simple flowchart outlining SD-6 and its affiliates. She slams the pen down and looks at him defiantly. “I don't know what your problem is with me, you’re the one…” she begins, but stops herself. She doesn’t want to get personal. “I really don’t feel like wasting time here. There is only one way we’re gonna immobilize SD-6, and that's my way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but this is how it's gonna be.” Vaughn nods slightly and stands up. He retrieves a large roll of paper from a shelf above them. He unrolls it and spreads it in front of her. Sydney looks it over and stares at it in shock. What she sees is a large flowchart showing hundreds of names, with SD-6 in the middle. She feels humbled. She had no idea how far the organization she’s a part of actually reaches. “Since I've been at the C.I.A., I've only seen this map grow,” Vaughn says quietly. “This is what you're in the middle of, Sydney. If shutting down the Los Angeles cell is all we were after, we would have raided that office three years ago. This is not about cutting off an arm of the monster. This is about killing the monster. And the work you have ahead of you -- the work your father’s been doing… it's complicated, it's political, and it is long term.” Sydney folds the paper over, not wanting to look at it anymore. “Here, memorize this,” Vaughn says, handing her the card with the number she’s to contact him with. “I did,” she says, not taking the card. “Okay. Well, I guess we'll wait to hear from you,” he says. Sydney stands up and puts her backpack back on and turns to leave. “Hey, wait,” he says, opening a cabinet above the table they were sitting at. He grabs her arm and places a yellow smiley face bandage on the inside of her elbow. She feels a jolt of electricity when he touches her, and she waits for him to let go of her arm. He doesn’t. “Syd,” he says. “Don’t,” she says, pulling her arm away. “Damn it, Sydney, will you let me explain?” “Explain?” she asks in disbelief. “Now you want to explain? I’m sorry, but you had your chance to explain.” She turns to leave once again. “I couldn’t then, but now I can,” he says, pleading with her. “Please.” Sydney stops at the tone in his voice. She turns around and waits. Her heart is beating rapidly. She’s waited years for this explanation, wondering why and how he could be so callous. “Thank you,” he says. He gestures to the seat she just left and asks her to sit again. He takes his seat and looks at her, as if not knowing where to start. She decides to help him along. “Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what my father
said to you.”
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