Title: Lost and Found Rating: R Disclaimer: Alias and all its characters belong to JJ, ABC and Bad Robot. Author's Note: My very first Alias fic. This was written post-"Almost Thirty Years" and was done entirely without a beta reader. I have made some edits to post it here but I'm sure I still missed something.
Part One - Lost
He had not seen her in four years, but she haunts him still. A night doesn't pass without him waking in up in a cold sweat, her name on his lips. He's beginning to forget her face. But not her voice. Every night he hears her calling his name, screaming it as she tries to smash the glass. Sometimes she breaks it and they escape, sometimes he makes it through the door, but he always saves her. Every night he saves her.
When he rolled over and looked at the clock the digital display read .
Sighing, he threw the covers off and went to the kitchen to make coffee, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Caffeine was his only vice these days. When he got back from Taipei the agency gave him a month off to recover and he had spent most of it in a drunken stupor. He hit rock bottom when Weiss, who hadn't had any babbling incoherent phone calls from him in three days, got worried and found him passed out on his bathroom floor, unshowered and unshaven, in a puddle of him own vomit. He hadn't touched a drop since then.
As he sits at the table, Donovan at his feet, he looks through the file again. He started it just after he came back to work and now it was five inches thick. It had every scrap of information he and Jack had collected since the day she disappeared. They followed the exploits of "The Man" to every place on the map, many times going on nothing but a vague tip. Always Irina was one step ahead of them. They had found out she was "The Man" shortly after Taipei when Jack received a letter from her, saying how unfortunate it was that they didn't meet and that Sydney was 'cooperating and thus, unharmed'. They traced the postmark to Hong Kong, but the letter had been sent through a re-mailing service and was untraceable.
They were uneasy allies at first, but as time went on they became almost friends. Jack was much too distrustful of people in general to ever become truly close to anyone and Vaughn accepted that. He had laser sharp focus and was dedicated to finding his daughter at any costs, even if it meant his life. There had been several close calls in the past and now Vaughn took the suicide missions more often than not.
By allying himself with Jack he had become somewhat of an enigma in the CIA. He was exempted from most of the rules, provided he came through when he was needed, so he could concentrate on finding Sydney. His office had become what Weiss liked to call "Sydney Central". The walls were covered with maps trying to predict Irina's next move, her base locations, and places where she had operatives. Another wall had photos of people who they believed were involved with her organization and several shots of a woman they believed to be Sydney. In each photo she was completely transformed and virtually common. The only thing that was the same was the eyes. They shared the same haunted sadness. At first the leads were coming from everywhere, almost to fast for them to verify. London, Beijing, Brisbane, New York, Brussels, Tokyo, Buenos Aries, Mexico City, Paris and even once in Los Angeles. Information was almost down to trickle and the CIA was pressuring Jack to take early retirement.
They had finally destroyed the Alliance six months ago with information they had gotten, ironically enough, from Sloane himself. Jack had been made a member of the Board of Directors and Sloane had told him of a retreat that Alain Christophe owned in the Swiss Alps. Jack ingratiated himself and got an invitation to the chalet for the weekend. After drugging Christophe, his wife and the servants he broke into the basement vault and found a gold mine - the Alliance master disks. Every contact, every front company, and every transaction, everything down to the personal bank account numbers of the board was there. It had only been a matter of weeks after that and now SD-6 was a memory. Jack had gotten Sydney's revenge on Sloane personally, with a bullet to the temple after a full disclosure of how his closest 'friend' had been working against him all these years. It was a hollow victory, since she had not been there to finish what she had started.
He was startled out of his reveille by his cell phone ringing. When he picked it up the display said "Jack". 'Must be back from the mission.’ he thought.
"Vaughn."
"We have Sark. And we think know where she is."
Part Two - The Interrogation
When Vaughn arrived at the office they ushered him downstairs to the cell where Sark was being held. He found Jack and Weiss waiting outside.
"Where is he? I want to talk to him now!" Vaughn said without even breaking his stride.
Jack put a hand up and stopped him before he reached the door. "I had to sedate him. He was belligerent and tried several times to break the restraints. We need to discuss a few things before you go in anyway."
"What? What could we possibly need to discuss? All I want from him is what he knows about Sydney!"
Weiss, trying to reason with him cut in, "Hey, I know you want to find her, but look at this logically. He is our best chance to take down Irina. You need to calm down and listen to what Jack found out before you go in there, guns a-blazing."
Vaughn turned to Jack, "You're right. It's just I haven't slept one night since she's been gone and I just..." he broke off, not knowing how to continue.
"I know the feeling."
They moved to the table and chairs opposite the two-way glass of Sark's cell. Vaughn then noticed the papers and maps spread out on the table.
"What is all this? Did he have all this on him?" he asked, leafing through it. He looked up at Jack and noticed the purplish bruise on his cheek.
"Did he do that? I thought he wasn't a fighter."
Jack touched his cheek, wincing slightly," He's not really, but he is creative. He hit me with a paperweight shaped like a dolphin."
Vaughn smiled slightly at the mental image of Sark bashing Jack with a Flipper paperweight and Weiss laughed out loud. Jack scowled at him and he shut up abruptly.
"So, I assume you and Sark were after the same disks at Christoff's house." Vaughn asked.
"Yes. I arrived at the house just after nightfall. Surveillance reported the family had just left for the oldest daughter's ballet recital. There were guards at all of the doors. I disrupted their radios and took out the one by the back door and entered here." Jack pointed to a set of doors on the blueprint he had unrolled in front of them. "It was the closest to the office. Most of the staff had been given the night off and I got into the office without incident. When I got there I realized there was no computer in that room. I checked the safe but it was empty. Then I heard someone in the room directly above me."
"The daughter's room?" Vaughn asked, checking the plans.
"Yes. I crept up the stairs and saw the door was ajar. I could hear someone moving around. When I got to the door I saw it was our friend Mr. Sark. Apparently Christoff stored the data on his daughter's hard drive, thinking no one would look there. I managed to surprise him, but he grabbed the paperweight to try to get an advantage. He put up quite a struggle but I called the back-up team and we secured him. When we searched him we found the files and disks, most which was taken from vault downstairs. We also found a notebook written in some kind of code and this photo." Jack slid the photo to Vaughn and sat down.
When Vaughn picked up, his heart stopped. It was Sydney. Her hair was dark and severely cut. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent. She was wearing a navy sweater and she was sitting on a set of gray stone steps. It was dated three months ago.
"She's alive,” he whispered.
Just then there was a crash from the cell.
"Looks like our captive is getting restless again." said Weiss heading for the intercom.
"No," Vaughn said standing, "I want to talk to him. I can handle it."
He looked to Jack. Jack nodded and he turned back to the table and began sorting through the pages again.
* * * * *
Sark was cuffed to a chair in the middle of the room. The cell was small and confining. He looked up when he heard the door open.
"You must be the illustrious Agent Michael Vaughn. Pity we couldn't meet under more pleasant circumstances. I've heard so much about you."
Vaughn tried to restrain his urge to beat him senseless. He grabbed the other chair in the tiny room and put it facing him and sat down.
"Where is she?"
"Where is who, pray tell?" Sark asked with a knowing smile.
"Don't play games with me. I'm in no mood. Tell me where she is." he said, trying to control the rage in his voice.
"She's waiting for you. That's all she talks about. Never shuts up about it. How Agent Vaughn and her big bad daddy are going to find her. It's sad, really. She cries herself to sleep at night."
"I can make your stay with us very uncomfortable Mr. Sark. Don't force me to do something I might regret."
"Threats? I didn't think you CIA boys played rough? Syd does though. Only way she likes it..."
Before he could finish his thought Vaughn slammed him against the wall, his hand at Sark's throat.
"You tell me where she is right now or I swear you will be breathing through a fucking tube for the rest of your natural born life."
Sark's eyes narrowed at him before he responded. "She calls your name when she comes." Then everything went black.
Part Three - Signs
The minute Vaughn stepped out of the room Jack was on him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jack yelled, finally losing his reserve. "How are we going to find her if our only source is unconscious?"
"He deserved what he just got and more. I don't think I need to justify myself to you Jack." said Vaughn, pulling his arm away.
"I know how bad you want her back, believe me, but we have to play his game. You cannot let him get to you like that. It's what he wants. You kill him, she wins and she's too smart to give us another opportunity like this. It might be our last chance."
Vaughn watched him go back to the table. He looked tired and the look of permanent strain never left his face now. Sydney's disappearance had aged him and it was beginning to show. Vaughn considered his response.
"You're right Jack." he said as he went to the door. "I'll be in my office if you need me."
* * * * *
Weiss was waiting for him when he got upstairs, swinging his silver yo-yo. That was a bad sign. He only brought that one out when things were looking grim. He took a deep breath and went in, ducking the 'around the world' swing.
"So," he said flopping back into his chair, “Must be bad, huh?"
Weiss pulled the yo-yo back in at lightning speed and sat on the edge of the desk.
"What do you want first, the bad news, the really bad news, or the news so bad you might want to smash your head in with a hockey stick?"
"Give me the bad news first and we'll go from there."
"The files that Jack recovered were bogus, all of them." he said as he handed him a folder. Vaughn flipped thought it and swore under his breath. "Fuck."
"Next, the notebook we found on him? The code is so complicated; Marshall may not even be able to break it. He says it a combination of several old and new code formations and it changes patterns every two0 lines or so. He says he just has to find the right pattern. Could take a week, could take a year."
Vaughn shook his head in disbelief. "Please tell me that was the worst of it?"
"Not quite. The photo we found of Syd seems to have been digitally altered. They identified the place where the photo was taken; it's a church on an estate outside Budapest. The image of her was added after it was taken."
"Which means that Sark is our only hope?"
Weiss nodded. "At least until Marshal can break the code and that may still not tell us what we need to know. I'm sorry Mike. I know how much you and Jack want this."
"Thanks Eric. Hopefully I can squeeze some information out of Sark."
Weiss shifted uncomfortably on the desk. "I heard what he said before. About Syd." He saw the pain in his friend's eyes. "He's bluffing you know. If he even got within five feet of her she'd have his balls for earrings."
Vaughn chuckled at the image of that particular confrontation. "You always said she was a ball-breaker. I hope you're right."
Weiss stood and began flipping the yo-yo again as he headed towards the door. "I'll bring you analysis on the photo when they finish it. You want to talk to Marshall?"
"I'll go by and see him later. Do me a favor? Go check on Jack. Make sure he hasn't choked Sark himself,” he said as he picked up the phone.
"No problem. Later."
Vaughn dialed and waited for someone to answer on the other end.
"Will Tippin."
* * * * *
After his return from Taipei, Will had some hard decisions to make. There was no way he could return to his old life. The CIA gave him two options: witness protection or recruitment. While neither one were ideal, ultimately he couldn't give up his life and his family. After eighteen months of training, they placed him in the LA office, doing research and media relations.
He has also published a novel, under a pen name of course, that had done quite well.
He and Vaughn had become friends, in spite of the circumstances. To most of the outside world Sydney was dead and they both took comfort in having someone to talk to about her. Will was one of a very select number of people who knew that he and Jack were still searching for her. The only other people who knew were her former partner at SD-six, Marcus Dixon and Marshall, both of whom now worked at the real CIA, Dixon as a senior field agent and Marshall as the head of Op-Tech. Vaughn even occasionally worked with Dixon, but he still preferred to work alone.
Francie however was kept in the dark. Jack decided it was best for her. Telling her, he reasoned, would put her in danger and she had too many questions already. She did know that Will had taken a job with the government and had even had dinner with him and Vaughn once, never knowing who he was. Her restaurant was doing very well and she had recently become engaged again. She told Will her only regret was that Sydney wouldn't be there to be her maid of honor.
Will had asked that Vaughn let him know if they got any new info on Sydney's whereabouts. He eventually accepted that he and Syd were never meant to be. Whatever was between her and Vaughn was something much deeper. Vaughn's dedication to finding her was proof enough of that.
"Will Tippin"
Vaughn twisted in his chair. "Hey, it's Michael. We may have a solid lead."
Will sat up so fast he almost spilled his coffee. "Are you sure? Not like last time?"
A year ago Jack had gotten a tip from an anonymous tip that a woman fitting Sydney's description had been seen in Rio. Irina had a large network of contacts in South American and it was possible that the woman was Sydney. He and Vaughn spent three month tracking it and, after an almost deadly gunfight, came up empty handed again.
"No, this time we have someone who works on the inside. He's one of Irina's top agents. Jack apprehended him yesterday."
"Do you think she's alright? After all this time, who knows what she's gone through? She might not even be the same person we knew."
He was saying everything Vaughn had said to himself in his head a million times. "I don't know, Will. At this point I just want to know she's alive. When we find out something concrete, I'll let you know."
Will sighed, "Okay, well yeah, let me know."
"I will." Vaughn hung up the phone and almost immediately it rang again. It was the lab, the photo analysis was finished. Someone was bringing it up right then. Vaughn thanked the tech and not more than a minute after he hung up he had the photo in his hands.
He put the picture next to the last one he had of her from before Taipei. It was her, no question, but he already knew that. He traced the outline of her jaw with his finger, remembering how her hand felt in his, how her shoulders shook when she cried, the look on her face when he told her she looked pretty. It was enough to undo him if he let himself get caught up in it.
Then he noticed something he hadn't seen before. Sydney's hands were positioned very awkwardly. They were crossed over in her lap and her fingers were shaped, almost deliberately. He searched through the piles on his desk until he found the original statement that she had given to the CIA on her first day.
Native Language: English
Other Languages: Spanish, French, German, Russian, Japanese, Mandarin, Hebrew, Taiwanese, basic Latin, some Gaelic, ASL
For a second he thought he was hallucinating. When looking at the photo from left to right it looked like her hands were spelling the letters U & K. Was this her idea? Had she planted the photo on Sark, hoping he'd get caught? He wouldn't put it past her; she was a genius after all. They had intel on a possible base of Irina's in Northern England, but at this point it was unconfirmed. Could this be where she was? Jack had picked up Sark just outside of Paris and he didn't have any evidence on him that he had flown into De Gaulle airport. He rechecked the inventory list of Sark's property. Vaughn's heart stopped when he saw what he was looking for.
18. One train pass - Cross Channel Express
Sark had come from London to Paris on the train. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely dial the phone.
"This is Vaughn. Find Bristow and Weiss and tell them to meet me in my office. I think I found her."
Part Four - Quicksilver
It had taken three weeks to get the seizures under control. The cravings were finally starting to fade too. Her mind was clear for the first time in four years.
When she woke up tied to that chair in Taipei she knew she needed to find a way out of there, fast. She tried to focus, but the image of Vaughn on the other side of that door wouldn't leave her mind. If only she hadn't let him come here, he might still be alive. She had ruined another life.
They left her there for what seemed like hours. She could hear movement in the hall outside, and when she heard the door open she tensed, ready to attack when the opportunity arose. Then she heard a voice she thought she would never hear again. Her mother's voice. She spoke of regrets, about having to leave Sydney behind; of never seeing her grow up, of not shaping the woman she had become. But she was proud of her and hoped that they could put the past behind them and work together, as a family. Syd almost gagged when she said that. Told her she was never going to work for her and as soon as she was out of here, she would really learn what regret was. Her mother just laughed.
The door opened then and Sark and two thugs came in holding something that they dumped at Sydney's feet. It was Vaughn, still alive but barely. It took all she had to keep from crying out. Irina nodded and Sark grabbed Vaughn and hauled his body into a sitting position, a gun to his temple. She had a choice to make, agree to work with Irina and Vaughn lives or leave now, but with his blood on her hands. She didn't hesitate and Sark dropped the gun. She did have one condition - contact her father and let him know where Vaughn was. If he didn't make it out alive the terms were null and void. Irina was hesitant, but agreed. That's the last thing she can clearly remember.
Her next conscious memory was from a bed in a hospital room. She had restraints holding her down and there was an IV in each hand. There was a large observation window and when they saw she was awake a woman came in and checked on her. Sydney tried to speak, but a breathing tube blocked her throat. The woman told her Irina would be in shortly. That's when she noticed the liquid in one of the IV's was thicker and had a silvery color. This was not a good sign.
Sark came instead of her mother. An overwhelming sense of dread filled her when she saw the look in his face, like a shark circling his prey. He came and sat next to her on the small bed, his body flush against hers. He began to stroke her hair and leaned very close to her, his lips almost touching hers before he began to speak.
The silvery liquid was an experimental drug they had been working on called Quicksilver. It was one0 times as addictive as heroin and could be injected, snorted, or absorbed through the skin. It was virtually untraceable by machines and carried no discernable smell. It was the perfect drug. All it needed was a human trial and since she was unwilling to help her mother as an operative, they decide she would be the perfect test subject. They had been giving to her intravenously for fifteen days now. Tonight, they would take it out and wait for the results. Once she came down from her high, he assured her, there would be nothing she wouldn't do to get another fix. He stood up and gestured to the window. The same woman came back and removed the tube from her throat and detached the second IV. Sark hushed her before she could speak. He would be back later to check on her. With that he turned and left the room.
The nurse asked her what she needed. ‘Five minutes with my mother and a gun,’ she thought. She asked for water and something to eat. She said she would bring some right away and pointed her to the bathroom. She tried to stand up but was knocked back by dizziness and nausea. After several attempts she made it but just in the nick of time. She dropped to her knees and threw up the minimal contents of her stomach and dry heaved until she was exhausted. When she mustered the strength to stand back up she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was pale and drawn and the dark circles under her eyes made her look skeletal. That must mean that her body was trying to fight the Quicksilver. She could get out of this yet.
* * * * *
She had truly underestimated her mother. She was in hell. She had been locked in a padded cell for more than three days now and was getting desperate. Her body had not been as resilient as she thought. After a few hours she began to have slight tremors that had turned into full-blown seizures. The migraine and dizziness came next, along with the paranoia and delusions. She had become so violent that she had hurled the nightstand through the window. They came in and shocked her with a taser and dragged her to the room she was in now. She screamed and screamed until her throat was raw and still no one answered her. She was out of her mind, babbling stories from her childhood, random thoughts about anything. She promised to be a good girl as long as she could have more and she would do anything to get it.
As soon as she said that a guard came in and carried her to a quiet room with a big gray couch and told her to wait. She tried to keep her hands from shaking, but they wouldn't stop. That's when she saw Sark sitting in the chair across from her. It had dulled her senses so much she hadn't even noticed he was in the room. In his hand he held a syringe with what to her ravaged mind looked like liquid gold. Would this be so wrong? He was offering her an escape from her hellish existence, to ease her guilt.
She begged and pleaded with him to give it to her. She said she would do anything. He moved to the couch and after some negotiating she felt the needle slip into her arm and Sark slip into her.
* * * * *
Her memories were fuzzy. She remembered places, but nothing specific. A sunny beach, the sunrise from a balcony in the desert, a cabin in snowy forest, a rainy city street. He's always there with her. It's not really Vaughn, but in her mind it is. The drug keeps her from reality and she has accepted it. She's seen her mother, but not very often. Sometimes she dreams about her father and the time he took her on the carousel. She misses him and cries for him at night.
Three months ago, right after they got to England, she almost died. She lost count of her injections and overdosed. Luckily he was there to save her. It took a minute before the adrenaline hit her heart and she woke up. That was all the time she needed. In the seconds she was dead, the fog she was in cleared and she saw herself. Strung out, sleeping with Sark and helping her mother. But it wasn't her time yet. She still had things to finish.
After the overdose she discreetly began to cut down her dosage. Sark was away and the staff stayed away from her at all costs. Nighttime was the worst. That's when the sickness seemed to be the worst, and the quiet darkness panicked her, images of Vaughn running through her mind. Was he alive? Would he ever forgive her? Did he ever still care?
When Sark came back, things got very tricky. He didn't know she was planning an escape. It took all she had to avoid his advances. The sickness was almost gone after two months. Her hands still shook and she still had a constant dull headache, but she was down to an eighth of what she taking before. She used her relationship with Sark to her advantage. She was his weakness and she played that. It was almost too easy.
Then Irina came to see them. She had to play the drugged out fool she had always seen. It was tough to maintain and a few times Syd thought she had become suspicious. One night, during dinner she told Sark she needed to speak to him later, in private. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.
She heard him leave the room when he thought she had fallen asleep. Quickly she followed him downstairs. He went into the library where Irina was waiting for him. He was being sent to Paris on a retrieval mission in two days. It was information that the CIA was also trying to get and she wanted to beat them to it.
Irina handed him the intel and dismissed him. Syd flattened herself against the wall outside the door so when he opened it, she would be behind it. Instead of heading back upstairs he went down the hall into the front sitting room and flipped up a small painting in the center of the wall. There was a dial. He put his hand on it and spun it back and forth in a deliberate pattern. When he was finished the wall panel to the left of him slid open. She memorized the spin pattern and hurried back to their room before he came back.
* * * * *
The next morning her mother left without saying goodbye, something she was used to by now. The day seemed to go by agonizingly slow. She spent most of it in bed, trying to figure out the best way to alert someone to her presence here. Although she was down to barely a trickle of the Quicksilver a day, she was in no shape to fight her way out. There were guards inside and out. She knew it must have something to do with what was in the room she had seen Sark go into last night. He was leaving in the morning, she knew. He wanted her to come with him and she had refused. She also had refused to sleep with him and that had earned her a black eye. She hadn't denied him before and he snapped. The pain was a welcome memory. She hadn't felt it in a long time.
That night when she was sure he was sleeping she crept downstairs. She found the place on the wall where he had been and flipped up the picture. Underneath was a dial that looked like the one on a rotary telephone. She fit her fingers into the holes and spun it the same way she had seen him do it, praying it didn't require a fingerprint or voice ID once she got inside. The paneling to her left slid open. She went in and the panel shut behind her. In front of her was a lab. All of the shelves were lined with bottles of Quicksilver. That explained the heavy security measures. She could almost feel her blood singing to her, telling her just one more hit wouldn't hurt. She started to hyperventilate and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. She concentrated on the image of Vaughn in her head. It was from the night in Taipei. How he looked in that long black leather coat and the look on his face when he saw that other guy checking her out. She got control of herself. Until she was stronger, this was her only option.
She went into the lab and on the opposite wall there was a computer. She booted it up and when the logon screen came on she chose Sark's name. After four tries at the password, she took a wild guess and typed in her own name. 'He really is pathetic.' she thought. It all was coming back to her now, as she scanned the files. She found the digital camera in the left desk drawer. She set it on top of the monitor and positioned herself for the picture. Hopefully if someone found it, they would notice her hands and see what they spelled. She had taken a class in American Sign Language in college as part of her teaching requirements. She scanned herself onto an existing photo in the database and added the date on the back. She printed it out and cut it to size. She knew it was a long shot, but it was the best she could do for now.
After leaving the lab, she went into the room where he was sleeping. He was already packed. She slipped the photo into the small, nondescript black bag she knew he would take with him to get the intel. She crossed the hall back to her room. All she had to do now was wait.
Part Five - Intimidation
It was nearly eleven when he finally dragged himself into the office. He had slept an entire night for the first time in since she had disappeared. He knew they had to be close this time. If they weren't he didn't know how many more times he could put himself through this. So close, yet so far every time, it was slowly killing him and Jack, for that matter.
He came into his office carrying a venti vanilla latte and found his message light blinking. He shrugged off his jacket as he pressed play.
"Uh, hello Agent Vaughn, Marshall here. We have made some progress on the notebook. Partial words, phrases, sentences, and possibly a code name…wait, I know I wrote it down. Sorry, still looking...oh here it is. Quicksilver. Yep, it's mentioned several times but nothing yet on any addresses in England.” He heard the receiver hit the desk.“Whoops! Lost ya there for a sec. Anyway, that's it for now. I'll call when we have more info."
He grabbed a pen and jotted down that word. He was going back to see Sark today and it could prove useful. He hit the button again to hear the next message.
"It's Jack. I assume you'll be questioning Sark today. Devlin has asked that I sit in, in light of what happen the last time you spoke. Call me when you get to the office."
He had already heard that the powers that be were hesitant to let him interrogate Sark after his last outburst. Sark had been unconscious for four hours or so after and been even more uncooperative, if that was possible. On Jack's orders they threw him into the smallest, rankest cell they had. Jack knew he was slightly claustrophobic and obsessively neat. Never let the enemy know your weaknesses, that was Jack's personal mantra. Too bad Jack's weakness what written all over his face.
He flipped through the information they had gathered on Sydney possible location in England. There was a townhouse in London they knew was one of Irina's and the other was still unconfirmed. Sark was a long shot and they knew it. There was no telling what it would take to crack him, but Vaughn was prepared to do anything.
*****
He met Jack outside the cell.
"Jack."
"Do we have our temper in check today?"
Vaughn raised his eyebrow and shook his head slightly. "Let's just get started. You can critique me later."
They entered the cell and found Sark curled up at the head of the bed. The cell was small, much smaller than the one they had been in the last time he questioned him. There was a barely room for the bed, toilet, sink and the single chair, let alone three grown man. In silent agreement Vaughn sat in the chair and Jack stood near the door, almost in the shadows.
"I find these accommodations deplorable." Sark said, unfurling himself on the bed. "Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Bristow? To what do I owe this honor?"
"We want information and we want it now." Vaughn said, his voice even and calm.
"I'm afraid I have nothing more to tell you. My employer would be sorely disappointed in me if I went about revealing her secrets."
"Listen to me very carefully Mr. Sark. You are rapidly running out of options. If you don't start cooperating I'm not sure I can be held responsible for your continued safety. Things could get very ugly."
The room was silent. Sark shifted on the bed before he spoke. "If I agree to your terms, what's in it for me? Nothing comes for free, gentlemen."
"You are in no position to negotiate. You give us the information we want and once it's confirmed we can go from there. You will be detained here until further notice. Better living conditions can be arranged, I imagine." Vaughn said as he opened the folder on his lap.
"Tell us about Quicksilver."
Sark's face visibly paled, but his voice was steady. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jack's voice came from the darkness. "We have your notebook. Almost half of the code is broken. Once the rest is done we'll have all the information we need. You will be...expendable. Foolish of you to carry something so valuable. Could end up in the wrong hands."
"We are giving you an opportunity to save yourself. I'd take it if I was you."
Sark smirked defiantly. "Do you think, even if I do tell you where she is, you'll just be able to walk in and walk out with her, no questions asked? You have no idea who you're up against. She won't let her go without a fight."
Vaughn leaned forward and said, "What does she want with her? Why is she keeping her?"
"For one simple reason. You want her. Irina is fond of possessing things that other people desire. And I think we all know that's what this little search is all about, at least for you Mr. Vaughn. Unless there's something you want to share with the group, Jack."
Before Vaughn could react Jack had Sark off the bed and on the floor in a choke hold, his right arm twisted up behind him.
"Listen to me you little maggot, I am quickly losing patience with your games." He broke Sark's arm with a sickening snap. "You are going to tell us where she is and how to get her out safely or you will suffer serious consequences, and that arm will be least of your troubles. Am I clear?"
He let go of Sark, who hit the floor face first, and headed to the door. Vaughn, the look of shock still clear on his face stood to follow. Jack paused at the door and looked back at Sark. "You have five minutes."
*****
Vaughn was still speechless when they got outside. He had seen Jack be ruthless with people before, but this was different. The look in his eyes was almost feral. He was sure if he hadn't been in the room he would have beaten Sark within an inch of his life. Before he could ask him anything, Jack spoke.
"Vaughn, I apologize. I lost control in there." He leaned again the wall, his face in his hands. "I owe her this. I let her down on so many other things..."
Vaughn was unsure what to say or do. This was unfamiliar territory. Jack was starting to fray before his eyes. They stood in uncomfortable silence until Sark banged on the door.
He looked at Jack once more before they went back in. "Can I break his other arm?" he asked with an impish grin.
Jack laughed and said, "Try for his ribs, much more internal bleeding that way."
When they reentered the room Sark had reclaimed his position on the bed, the pillowcase torn and made into a makeshift sling. Vaughn went to the chair and Jack again stood by the door. The tension in the room was almost buzzing.
Sark broke the silence. "It seems we find ourselves right back where we started, eh? I have taken your proposal under advisement and have decided it would be in my best interest to help you. I will tell you Sydney's location and what to expect when you get there."
Vaughn face remained stoic, but inside his stomach was doing cartwheels. "And in exchange you want what?"
"Safe passage out of here and protection should the need ever arise. Irina's reach is far and wide, but I'm sure you already know that."
Jack was unfazed. "Done. Where is she?"
"In a safe house outside Blackpool, England, on the coast of the Irish Sea. Knowing Irina, she stepped up the guard in my absence. Electric fence and motion sensors with men stationed around the perimeter. Three entrances, front and back door and a trap door to the cellar. No cameras in the house itself, only outside. There are two wings. Sydney's room is in the right wing and, when she's there, Irina's is in the left. There will be at least four men inside the house at all times, two on the ground floor and one in each wing. They will be armed and will not hesitate to shoot you or her, if it becomes necessary."
Vaughn stood. "You made the right decision."
" I appreciate your gratitude. When do I leave?" he said with a smirk.
Jack turned to him. "You don't. First thing you learn in the spy trade, always get a guarantee."
Sark began to protest. "But you said…"
He smiled as he shut the door. "I lied."
Part Six - The Plan
Vaughn leaned back against the headrest. His mind was running at a mile a minute. They had gone over the plan a million times in the last three days, but there were too many variables.
The information from Sark checked out. They had agents on it the minute they left the room and confirmation came four hours later. Jack had gone in to mission mode. They knew the recovery had to be done as soon as possible. There was already a chance Sydney had been moved from the location. Vaughn called Weiss and they began strategizing. Jack felt the best way was a surprise attack; take out the guards at the back without alerting the ones in the front and go into the house via the cellar. He had gotten a set of blueprints of the house through an old friend in British intelligence. The cellar connected to the kitchen, on the ground floor. Once they got into the house they had to disable the two guards downstairs and get upstairs undetected. Once upstairs, Vaughn was to get Sydney out with Weiss as back up. Jack would secure the rest of the house and once it was clear he was going to drop a remote explosive devise. The house would be leveled in a matter of minutes.
They were on a plane bound for London. It seemed like they had left Los Angeles days ago. Weiss was sitting across from him storing peacefully and Jack was one row in front, still and quiet, but awake. Vaughn could tell he hadn't slept either. He hadn't spoken to either one of them since takeoff.
Once they landed in London they passed through Customs and boarded the CIA charter plane that would take them to Blackpool. It was an hour-long drive to the house. Normally they would have backup, but Jack had refused. He wanted as few people knowing about this as possible.
Weiss stopped the jeep when they were a mile from the house, just out of camera range. Jack grabbed the map and spread it out on the hood.
"This is it. The fence is about five00 yards straight ahead. The box for it, the motion sensors and the cameras should be at the back entrance, where the first set of guards is posted. We'll make a direct approach and Vaughn, you and I will take out the guards while Weiss disables the power."
Jack was all about business now. Vaughn was still in awe of him when it came to this. There was nothing that could shake him. He only hoped he could keep it together until they got Syd out.
They grabbed their bags and set off, in stealth mode. The dense woods provided a good cover and soon they could hear the guards talking loudly and laughing.
"Covert isn't in their vocabulary I see." whispered Weiss.
Jack silenced him with a look and gestured towards the now plainly visible power box. He nodded at Vaughn and took the lead, going forward. There were two guards armed with machine guns. They spoke in guttural Russian and were amusing themselves by throwing things at the fence and seeing what would spark. Without needing to speak they took them out in less than five blows. Weiss was finished and jogged over to meet them.
"The cellar door is straight ahead. You two head there, I'm going around front." Jack said handing them com pieces.
Vaughn began to protest. "Jack, this is not a good idea. We need to stay together, get in and get out. That's the plan."
"Your concern is getting Sydney out safely. I can handle myself. Let me know when you have her and are clear of the house."
Vaughn grabbed his arm. "Don't be stupid Jack. This is not the time for revenge. She's not worth it."
Weiss broke in, "Uhh, guys, no time to argue. We gotta get this show on the road."
"Quite right." said Jack, breaking Vaughn's grip. "Find her and get out as fast as possible. I'll see you at the extraction point."
Jack took off and they headed to the cellar. The padlock was easy enough to break. Weiss shined his flashlight down and found a set of rotting stairs.
"Guess this is the way. You go first."
Vaughn shook his head in exasperation and stepped gently onto the first step. It held. He carefully went down the rest of the way, Weiss close behind. When they got to the bottom he let out the breath he was holding.
"Pull yourself together. You're a CIA agent, for God's sake, not a scared old woman!" said Vaughn with a small chuckle.
"Hey! Shut up! I told you, I don't like cellars, okay! Let's go, huh?" Weiss said as they found the stairs that went into the house.
When they got to the top, Vaughn opened the door a tiny crack. Everything seemed quiet. He felt for the gun in his shoulder holster and opened the door all the way. It was clear. He gestured for Weiss to follow him and the crept towards the hall. Following the route he had memorized they went down the hall and turned left and went through an archway to the front hall. There were two more unconscious guards at the foot of the stairs.
"Guess Jack's already been here." quipped Weiss.
The stairs were carpeted and hid their footsteps. At the top they went right and found six identical doors. Weiss looked at him and shrugged. "Pick a door, any door. I guess."
She was here, he could feel it. He looked at the doors and paused.
"Second door on the right."
"How do you know that?" asked Weiss skeptically.
"Right is her dominant side and her favorite number is two."
Weiss shook his head as he reached for his gun. "You are so weird."
Just as they approached the door, there was a voice came from the end of the hall.
"Stop right there! Hands in the air!" he screamed, his gun drawn.
Vaughn turned and in one fluid motion shot him straight in the chest. At the same time the door in front of him flew open.
******
She thought she heard the door downstairs slam shut. Immediately she assumed the worst. Sark was back and her plan had failed. She went to turn on the lamp at her bedside. It seemed to glow brighter than she remembered. Standing, she grabbed the clothes nearest to her and began to dress. Her hands didn't shake at all now and the headache only came if she stood up too fast. Her mother had come back yesterday, but she had only seen her briefly, pretending she had come down with the flu. Irina had soup brought up to her, but the slightly metallic aftertaste proved it was not her welfare her mother was looking after.
She heard footsteps in the hall and for some reason she thought of Vaughn. She was almost at the door when she heard the shouting. She pulled the door open in time to see him grab the gun from the holster and fire. She thought she was dreaming until she heard him say...
"Sydney?"
And for that single moment the world seemed to stand still.
*****
He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. She buried her head in his neck and inhaled deeply, remembering that smell. If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend the last four years had been a very bad dream.
"Guys, I hate to interrupt, but we have to get out of here now,” said Weiss.
Vaughn looked at her. "Are you okay to run? It may come to that."
"As long as it gets me the hell out of here, I'll do whatever it takes." she said grabbing his hand.
Vaughn tapped his com piece. "Sandman, this is Daredevil. Nightwing and I have retrieved the package. I repeat we have retrieved the package and will meet you at extraction."
"Who's Sandman?” she asked as they reached the hall.
"Your father." he said.The earpiece crackled loudly. He swore he heard a gunshot, but it was too muffled. Once they were outside they broke into a run. Something made Vaughn stop and look back at the house. It was taking too long. The explosive was set to go off in one minute.
“Jack, Jack are you there?” he screamed into the comm.
The explosion was all that answered.
Part Seven - Confrontation
"Dad!" Sydney screamed as she hit the ground, Vaughn's body covering hers. The contact was almost too much for him to handle. He rolled away quickly and turned to check on Weiss. He seemed shaken but all right. He got to his feet and helped Syd up. The house was in flames. Soon the fire would spread to the woods. They had to move fast. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone.
“This is Vaughn. We have her. Send the crews out for containment ASAP. I’ll call when we are at the extraction point.”
“What about my dad? What if he was in there?” she said as they ran to the jeep.
“You know as well as I do that he can take care of himself.” Vaughn said helping her into the passenger side. Weiss jumped into the back and Vaughn threw it into gear and raced down the dirt road, the house blazing in the distance.
*****
**Twenty Minutes Earlier**
Jack disabled the guards in the front easily. Almost too easily. He knew that Vaughn and Weiss could get Sydney out on their own. He had something personal to take care of.
The front door required a code. He pulled out his code descrambler and the door opened soundlessly. Slipping in the door, he saw two more guards enter the hall. He pulled out his gun and screwed the silencer on. He shot the first one before he could touch his gun. The second one managed to aim, but he suffers the same fate as the first one.
Taking the stairs two at a time he took a left at the landing. His heart was beating fast and for the first time he had second thoughts about what he was about to do. This woman was once his wife. She had shared his life and his bed. No, that was not the woman at the end of the hall. Laura was dead, only Irina remained. But not for long.
He saw a door at the end of the hall standing open. It was foolish to think she had not seen this coming. He stepped into the room and came face to face with his past.
*****
They were here. When the outside power had been cut, a silent alarm went off in her room. Without the drain on the power, the lights were stronger inside. Then the backup generators for her cameras went on. She watched her husband, Agent Vaughn and who she presumed to be Agent Weiss move rapidly towards the cellar entrance. Sark disappointed her, but she wasn’t surprised. She knew Jack had gotten him in Paris. She watched as he left the other two agents and head towards the front door. It was time they had a little talk.
Getting up from her desk, she slipped on her red robe. His favorite color on her, if memory served. She opened her door and waited.
*****
When he saw her sitting on the bed like that he almost bought her act.
“Irina.”
“Hello Jack. It’s been a long time,” she said leaning back on one elbow.
“Please, let’s skip the small talk, shall we? Give me one reason not to shoot you and put us both out of our misery.”
She smiled and sat up on the bed. “If you kill me, you’ll kill her too.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“Poor Jack, surely Sark told you?” she said, standing. “For the last four years Sydney has been, well.... a lab rat of sorts. I created an experimental drug called Quicksilver and she was the first test subject. Everyday, up until three months ago, she took it five times a day. She accidentally overdosed and apparently thought she could wean herself from it without my noticing. We’d been running more tests and found, while it had many pleasing side affects, there were also some rather painful ones as well. Including kidney damage, liver failure, blood poisoning, and the worst one of all for you Jack, sterility. No bouncing grandchildren for us, I’m afraid.”
He seized her throat and said, “Tell me how to fix it, now.”
“Your hands are more callused than I remember.”
“Don’t fuck around with me. She’s your daughter. Why would you do that to her?” he hissed, tighten his grip.
“Because I could. She was more than willing after a while.” she said flinching only slightly when she felt cold steel against her temple.
He tossed her back on the bed; his gun still aimed at her. “You disgust me. I can’t believe I ever loved you. You are a heartless bitch who has done nothing but leave death and destruction in your wake. I won’t ask again, how I fix the mess you’ve made?”
“The antidote is in the drawer in the desk there.”
He moved to it and grabbed the pages. The com piece in his ear cracked and she took advantage of the momentary distraction to pull her own weapon for under the pillow. She fired and hit him in the shoulder. He stumbled back towards the window. She came at him and cocked the gun again.
“Time to say goodbye Jack. It’s been fun,” she said leaning in to kiss his cheek. At the same time he dropped the explosive on the floor at her feet.
“Goodbye, Irina”, he said as he threw himself backward out the window and hit the remote detonator.
******
He hit the ground running but was knocked down face first by the explosion. The wound in his shoulder was bleeding profusely and the fire was spreading quickly. He ran as far as he could before he collapsed. In his pocket, he searched for the ringing cell phone.
*****
“Does he have a phone on him?” she asked Weiss twisting in her seat.
He looked at her doubtfully. “You want me to try it?”
Vaughn looked in the rearview mirror and shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”
He dialed the number and it rang.
“Bristow.”
“Jack, where are you? Are you okay?” he asked, hearing a groan from the other end.
“I’m injured, but alive. I’m in the woods on the north side of the house. Did you get Sydney?”
He leaned up to Vaughn. “North side in the woods. He’s hurt.”
At that Sydney stiffened in her seat. She held on while Vaughn turned the jeep and went back towards the house.
“Yeah we got her. We’re on our way there,” he said, disconnecting the call.
They were nearing the property line when they saw him. He was half sitting, half lying against a tree, covered in soot and blood. Syd didn’t even wait for the jeep to stop before she jumped out.
“Daddy!” she cried, pulling him into a hug.
He wrapped his good arm around her and held her tight. “I missed you.”
“Me too Dad.” She let go of him then and moved back as Vaughn and Weiss helped him into the back of jeep.
“Let’s get the hell outta here!” yelled Weiss as they sped off into the night.
Part Eight - Going Home
The pilot has just announced that they will be landing in Los Angeles in three0 minutes. She has butterflies in her stomach. She thought she'd never see any of this again.
Once they picked up her father it was full speed ahead to the safehouse in Blackpool. Weiss called ahead and there was a doctor waiting when they arrived. The bullet had gone cleanly through Jack's shoulder and only required stitches. Once he was finished they gave him a sedative and he finally got some rest, at Sydney's insistence, promising that they would have plenty of time together when he was well. When she said that, he got an odd, pained look on his face, but she chalked it up to the medication. After a quick check-up they released her and she went to look for Vaughn.
She found him in the front room, asleep on the couch. He looked so peaceful she couldn't wake him. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. A tap on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" It was Weiss, playing with his ever-present yo-yo.
She smiled warmly. "I'm good. Better than I've been in a long time."
They both stood there, not knowing what to say. Weiss broke first. "He's been a mess since Taipei. Both of them have. Spent the last four years chasing down every lead they could find. Your dad got rid of SD-six and The Alliance. Did you know that?"
It was the question she had been afraid to ask. "When?"
"Six months ago. Took out Sloane himself, in his office at Credit Dauphine, but not before he told him everything. When Sloane asked him why, he said it was for you and no one fucks with his daughter without suffering the consequences."
She looked back at the sleeping form on the couch. "And him?"
"When he got back, the put him on leave, most of which he spent with his good friends Jim Beam and Jose Cuervo. He was a damn mess, calling me at all hours, sometimes crying; sometimes he just yelled and yelled until he slammed the phone down. I got worried when the calls stopped, so I went and found him in a puddle of vomit on his bathroom floor. I had to take him to the hospital, it was so bad. Once he got back in the office, he started taking the suicide missions, even the ones your father was leery of. He's wasted about seven of his nine lives. Anytime he wasn't in the field he was searching for you and Irina. So many people thought he was insane, told him you were dead and to let it go. But he wouldn't or couldn't and neither could Jack. Your dad nabbing Sark was the closest thing they to a break and it got ugly before we could get anything from him. I assume you planted the picture on him?"
"Yeah, not my best work, I'll admit, but it was all I had."
He chuckled as he 'walked the dog'. "Well, I wouldn't go submitting it for the cover of Vogue but it got the message across. Sark also had an encoded notebook on him, kind of a spy diary I guess. Marshall was still working on it when we left."
"Marshall!" she squealed. "He works for the CIA now?"
"Yep, head of Op-Tech. Dixon too, as a field agent. He would have been here, but his wife is getting ready to have the baby any day now and your father refused to let him leave her."
She smiled wistfully at the thought of Diane having another baby. There was one more thing she needed to know.
"What about Will?"
"Will is a member of the dysfunctional CIA family as well. After your father brought him back he knew he couldn't give up his life. He has a desk job in the LA office. He's a pretty good guy actually. We hang out and play ball sometimes. Mike always beats us both at free throws though."
The idea of Will, Vaughn and Weiss playing basketball made her laugh out loud. "You're kidding me right? You guys hang out and play ball and go to bars and pick up women?"
"Well, Will and I do. Mike's unavailable." he paused thoughtfully. "There hasn't been anyone else, if you were wondering. Not even a one night stand."
Shame washed over her. Sark must have told them. He was too arrogant to have kept it to himself. She leaned against the doorframe for support. Weiss looked at her and back at Vaughn.
"I don't know what was going on with you. Sark had some pretty colorful comments, which he shared at every possible opportunity. But I'm not the one who needs to know about it." he turned back to her then and said, "Just don't hurt him. After all this time, it might push him over the edge."
"I would never hurt him,” she said softly, tears forming in her eyes.
Weiss patted her on the back. "Come on, you need to get some sleep, we have a long day ahead of us." He led her back to a small bedroom. "It's good to have you back."
"Thanks for coming to get me, Nightwing," she said, a small smile playing at her lips,
"All in a day's work, all in a day's work." he tossed back her, smiling and yo-yoing down the hall.
******
She woke the next morning, with a stiff neck and an ache in her lower back. 'Gotta love the government. All the comforts of a Motel six,' she thought, stepping out into the hall. The smell of coffee in the air was intoxicating and she followed her nose to the source.
Vaughn was standing at the counter, his back turned to her. She cleared her throat to alert him to her presence. He turned around so fast, he almost spilling the cup he was holding.
"Hey you." she said stepping towards him.
"Hey yourself. I thought I'd let you get some rest,” he said as he set the mug on the table separating them. He wanted to leap over table and kiss her until she couldn't breathe, but he waited for her to make the first move.
She came around the table and touched his cheek. "I missed you."
"I missed you too Syd, more than you'll ever know." he said wrapping his arms around her. "I thought I'd never find you."
She just stood there, surrounding herself with him. She finally felt safe. They were quiet until, "There's some stuff I need to tell you. Things I need to explain. You might hear some things you won't like "
"I know. There's a lot that needs to be cleared up." He pulled away to look at her. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it as it comes." The intercom on the wall buzzed and they broke apart.
He pressed the call button. "Yes?"
"Agent Vaughn, the plane will be ready in an hour to take you to London. The tickets to Los Angeles and your passports will be ready when you leave. Agent Bristow is awake; we'll have him down in a few minutes. Can you take care of Agent Weiss and Ms. Bristow?"
"Yeah, we'll be ready. See you then." He turned back to Syd. She was sitting at the table, tugging at her left eyebrow.
"When did you start doing that?" he asked quizzically.
She looked at him for a second and then realized what she was doing. "Sorry, it was a habit I had as a kid. Every time my father left on a mission I was so worried I pulled at my eyebrows 'til they were almost gone. I had to stop when I became an agent, too much of a tell. I must've done it without even realizing. Bad habits are hard to break."
He nodded his head. "Tell me about it."
She shifted in the chair, wondering what to say next. "I should go get ready then." She stood up too fast and knocked the chair over.
"Your father brought you some clothes. I'll leave them outside the bathroom door." he said picking up the chair. "Better hurry, unless you want to take a cold shower. Eric is notorious for using all the hot water."
She smiled at him. "See you in a little while."
"Yeah." She had no clue how badly he wanted to go with her.
******
The flight to London was short and painless. Jack was still woozy from the medication, but they got on the plane to LA without any trouble. Sparing no expense, they had book all four of them first class tickets. He wanted to sit with Syd so they could talk, but he deferred to Jack and sat across the aisle from her instead. Jack fell back asleep almost immediately after take off, as did Weiss. When he turned back, Syd was asleep too, on her father's shoulder, like a little girl. He smiled and closed his eyes too.
Part Nine - Meetings
When they got off the plane they went immediately to the CIA offices. She was overwhelmed by all the people who wanted to see her, touch her, and talk to her. She felt like the main attraction in the freak show, The Amazing Reappearing Woman. They went into a conference room and to her surprise she saw some familiar faces.
Marshall and Dixon were sitting at the table and by the look on Dixon's face; Marshall must have been going off on one of his famous tangents.
"Marshall, do you still have my 'X-Files' tapes?" she asked grinning.
He leapt out of his chair and gave her a huge hug. "Of course I do. The show ended you know. I took the liberty of taping all the ones you missed. I'll put them on DVD for you." He looked around sheepishly at the other. "I'll shut up now. Glad you're back."
Dixon rose from his chair and she embraced him. "I'm so sorry I never told you. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Of course I can. I just wish I had known. It must have been hard on you." She shot a glance at Vaughn. "I managed. I heard you became a daddy again."
He pulled a photo out of his pocket. "Tara, seven pounds, one ounce. She was an unplanned surprise. Diane is glad the kids are older, built in babysitters!"
"You can count on me too, anytime." she said kissing him on the cheek. "I'll let you get out of here and back to Diane and the kids." She hugged him once more before he left.
She turned back to Vaughn, a questioning look on her face when there was a knock on the door. Weiss was the closest and opened it to reveal Will, hand in mid knock.
He rushed past the others and swept her up in his arms. "Syd..."
"Hey put me down! I hate it when you do that!" she said giggling.
He looked good. His hair was longer and blonder than she remembered. There was a glint of gold on his left ring finger. She snatched it in astonishment.
"Oh my God! You're married! When? Who is she? Am I going to like her?"
He pulled her down into a chair. "It'll be a year next month. Her name is Elizabeth."
"Does she know where you work? Does she know anything about…" her voice trailed off.
"About you? Yeah, she knows some. She knows I was in love with someone who loved someone else. She knows who you are, Francie introduced us, but she doesn't know that you were the girl I was in love with. And yes, she knows I work for the CIA in a non-agent capacity only, which is true."
She looked up to find that her father, Vaughn and Weiss had left the room. She took a deep breath and before she could ask, he answered her.
"No, Francie doesn't know anything. When you didn't come back, your father thought it was best to keep her in the dark. She was asking a lot of questions and he wanted to keep her safe. She's engaged now, and she has a restaurant. I'm not sure how we're going to explain your sudden leap from the grave. Your dad can take care of that, not my department,” he said with a smile.
"I missed you guys so much." she said on the verge of tears. Will grabbed her hand.
"Hey, none of that. This is a happy day. No more crying, ok? Promise?"
She nodded her head and smiled. "Promise."
"Well, I have orders to bring you to Devlin's office for a debriefing in minutes. Are you staying at your dad's place?"
She hadn't though about it. She wanted to stay with…
"Yeah, of course." she said as they headed down the hall. "Where else would I be staying?"
He stopped her outside the door. "Give him time Syd."
"I will. I'll call you in a few days okay?" she said as she hugged him again.
"I'll be waiting by the phone!" he said with a wink as he walked back down the hall.
She turned back to the door, took a deep breath and went in.
*****
The meeting was five hours of grueling questions and answers. It was only her, her father, Devlin and Director of the CIA, who had come from Langley. Since she didn't remember much, she couldn't really help. She told them what she knew and tried to fill in the blank spots. She told them about the lab in the house. She also told them about Quicksilver. All of it, from the hospital and the padded room to the overdose in England and her subsequent detox. She watched her father cringe when she told them about Sark. They had broken the code in the notebook. It was an address book of sorts with contacts and mission details from the past few years. There was a detailed account of the Quicksilver distribution plans in addition to location of several of the labs where it was being manufactured. They also told them that the team who did the recovery on the sit in England confirmed that they found the remains of Irina Derevko on the premises. This time she couldn't escape death. Jack's face was stoic. Syd broke down in tears, partly from the news and partly from the stress of the day. It was almost two in the morning when they finally left. They drove Jack's in silence. They were both too emotionally and physically exhausted to talk. He showed her to the guest bedroom, where she found her things from when she lived at Francie's.
"I knew you would want them when you came back." he said simply as he closed the door.
She sat down on the bed and opened the closest box. It was full of photo albums and framed photos. She flipped through them and recalled the stories behind them. Francie and her on the Ferris Wheel at the county fair, the two of them and Will in front of the 'Welcome to Nevada' sign from their road trip to Vegas. She couldn't bring herself to open the blue one. It was all of her and Danny. At the very bottom of the box, wrapped in newspaper was the antique frame Vaughn had gotten her as a Christmas gift. It didn't have a picture in it, yet. She set it up on her nightstand. Her body was screaming for sleep. She had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon. She changed, set the alarm, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
****** That afternoon her father drove her to the doctor's. They wanted to do some extensive tests and Jack insisted there was no time to waste. She was poked, prodded, and stuck with a needle so many times she lost count. They took x-rays of her from every possible angle, and she had a cat scan. By the time they were finish she was exhausted and wanted to back to her father's and sleep for a week.
When they got back to the house there was a message from Vaughn.
"He has your home number?" she asked.
"Yes, how else do you think he gets in touch with me?" Jack answered quickly.
She shrugged. "I don't know, cell phone?"
"Just play the message, Sydney."
She hit the play button.
"Jack, this is Michael Vaughn. I just wanted to see how the meeting with Devlin went. I know you had to take Syd to the doctor. When you get back could you please ask her to call me, if she's not too tired? You have the number. Thanks."
She turned to her dad. "What's the number?"
"Sydney, you need to rest. You can call him tomorrow."
"Are you telling me I can't use the phone?" she asked incredulously. "I am an adult. You can't ground me from the phone now!"
He shook his head. "The number's on the caller ID."
She snatched the phone and went upstairs to her room. She felt like an awkward teenager again. She seemed to recall having that same conversation with her father once before, but about a football player in the tenth grade.
She dialed the number and he picked up after the first ring.
"Hello?"
She smiled and said, "Joey's Pizza?"
Part Ten - Full Disclosure
"Hello?"
She smiled and said, "Joey's Pizza?"
Vaughn almost dropped the phone, but he recovered quickly. "Funny, very funny."
She leaned back on the bed and really did feel like she was in the one0th grade again. She wasn't sure what to say. Should she be flirtatious? Was that what he wanted?
"I heard you went to the doctor today,” he said.
"Yep, did everything they asked, just like a good girl. I even got a lollypop,” she said sweetly. "What about you? Work?"
He muted the TV. He needed to focus. "Yeah. I had to do the paperwork for Sark's transfer. He's going to a maximum-security prison in Arizona. Eric and I had a debrief with Devlin on the mission. He told me you were there pretty late last night."
She stiffened. "It was a long night, but I'm glad it's over with." She knew what he was going to say next.
"Syd, we need to talk. There's a lot things we both need to say."
A tone of melancholy entered her voice. "You're right, we do. The sooner, the better."
"Why don't I pick you after you get back from the doctor tomorrow? We can get dinner or something."
"That would be fine. I should be home by five. You can come by whenever after that,” she said tugging on her eyebrow.
"Okay. I'll see you then." He paused. "Goodnight, Sydney."
"Goodnight Vaughn. See you tomorrow,” she said as she hung up the phone.
She couldn't sit around and brood all night, so she began to unpack some of her things. She opened the closet and found empty hangers. "Clothes. Clothes are a good place to start,” she thought aloud. She pulled out the boxes and switched on the clock radio, tuning it to a random station. It was a good distraction and before she knew it everything was put away and her father was knocking on the door, asking her what she wanted for dinner.
"You know I'm not much of a cook, but we can have something delivered." he said, lingering in the doorway.
For the first time she noticed how tired he looked. It was a revelation to her. Like most little girls, she always thought her father was invincible, and compared to most people, he was. He had gone through a lot in the past few years and it showed. She crossed the room and hugged him tightly, not saying a word. At first he was a little stiff and reserved, not used to outward displays of affection. When he felt her tears on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her and held her closely as she cried. They stood like that for a long time.
*****
When she finally got up it was almost . She sat up and stretched, then went downstairs in search of her father. She found a plate of blueberry muffins and a note on the kitchen table.
Sydney- I went out and picked up breakfast for you. I think these are still your favorite. I have to go into the office this morning, but I'll be back in time to take you to your appointment. Call me if you need anything before then. ~Dad
She grabbed a muffin and began searching the kitchen for coffee. Her father's kitchen was straight out of a magazine, all white and chrome. The coffeemaker was on the back counter and to her delight, it was already set to brew. She flipped the switch and grabbed a plate to warm her muffin in the microwave. Once she had everything, she sat down and skimmed through the newspaper. 'This is what life is supposed to be like. Reading the newspaper and drinking coffee in the morning, every morning.' she thought. If she kept her mind occupied, she wouldn't have to think about what she was going to say to Vaughn.
She and Jack had discussed him over their Chinese food last night. He confirmed what Weiss had told her in England and filled her in on the way he was found in Taipei. They had dumped him outside the back door of the club and called Jack, telling him where he was and the terms of his release. He was barely breathing and was already running a high fever when they got him on the plane back to the States. He woke up a few days later full of questions with no answers. When he actually came back to work, he singularly pursued her trail. One month he racked up more than twenty thousand miles, chasing down different leads.
"Why?" she had asked.
He looked her in the eyes and said simply, "Because he loved you."
She was afraid that after tonight he wouldn't be able to love her any more. They couldn't pretend the last four years had never happened, but they might not have a future either. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, and looked at the clock.
"Damn!" she cursed out loud as she saw the time. She picked up the dishes and dropped them into the stainless steel sink and ran upstairs to get ready.
*****
They had been waiting for almost four0 minutes when the doctor finally came in.
"Jack, Sydney, I apologize for the delay. We were rechecking some of these test results,” he said indicating a sheaf of pages in his hand. He sat down before continuing.
"Well, the good news is that the drugs are completely out of your system. Your heart and lungs look good and the MIR and cat scans were normal. You have developed anemia, but that is completely treatable. But there are some things that concern us."
Jack sat forward in his chair and at the same time Syd reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Your liver and kidneys are slightly damaged. In regards to the liver, the damage is not unlike that of an alcoholic, and it can get better over time. Your kidneys are functioning normally now, but there may be a chance that you'll need dialysis in the future."
Syd tried to breathe deeply, willing herself to stay calm. "There's more, isn't there?"
"Yes, I'm afraid there is. It seems that in addition to everything else, you will be unable to have children. We're not sure how or why yet, but your ovaries have shut down. I'm so sorry Sydney."
She crumpled down in the chair. In all of her fantasies of a normal life, she had children. It was something she had always wanted, but took it for granted. She felt her father's hand on her back.
"Sydney?"
She sat up, blinking the tears back. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting that."
Jack looked from her to the doctor and back. "Is that all?"
"Yes," he said gently. "We have some medication for you. I'll leave it at desk with one of the nurses. Again, Sydney, I can't tell you how sorry I am." He quietly shut the door behind him.
Jack's heart was breaking for his daughter. He couldn't fix this, no matter how hard he tried. He squeezed her hand. This was not in the CIA handbook.
“Daddy, I just want to go home, okay?” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
He nodded and helped her to her feet. After picking up her medicine, they walked to the car, arm in arm.
******
When he knocked Jack answered the door.
“Hey Jack.”
“Michael, come in.” he said, stepping back from the door.
In all the time they worked together he had never been here. They always meet at the office or at his apartment. The house was done in cherry wood and rich jewel tones, not at all what he was expecting. He followed Jack into the living room and sat on the couch. There was something going on.
“Jack, where’s Sydney?” he asked carefully.
“She’s upstairs, lying down.”
The uneasiness was growing. “Is she all right? What did the doctor say?” He watched as Jack took a long drink from the glass of scotch on the table, but before he could answer Sydney appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and jeans.
“My ears were burning.” She smiled at him as she went over and kissed her father’s cheek. “Are we still on for dinner?”
“Of course, if you’re not too tired.” he said standing.
She smiled at him, but it seemed forced. “No, not at all. I‘m ready to go when you are. I‘ll see you later Dad.”
“Good night Michael.” he said not moving from the chair.
“Night, Jack.”
*****
They went to an Italian restaurant near the ocean. Conversation flowed, as did the wine. It was easy to avoid certain topics if they tried. He told her stories about Will & Eric’s less- than- friendly video game rivalry, and she told him about the time she and Francie got drunk at a karaoke bar and started singing old Stevie Nicks songs.
When they got back to the car, he asked if she wanted to go back to his place, almost forgetting what was about to happen. She just smiled and got in the car.
On the way there, a familiar song came on the radio.
“Oh my God! I love this song!” she said as she rolled all the windows down and sang at the top of her lungs. He loved seeing her this way, so free and happy. He pulled up in front of his building and when they got out she grabbed his hand on the way to his door. He unlocked the door.
“After you my lady.” he said with a smile. “Shall I give you the grand tour?”
She took his arm and grinned. “Yes, please.”
He affected a silly tour guide voice. “First up we have the lovely foyer, complete with front door, coat rack and the requisite all purpose junk closet.” He moved in to the living room. “Next the combination living room, dining room, and kitchen area. Note the color coordination of the couch and curtains. Our bachelor was assured by the pushy saleswomen that the colors were complimentary to the carpet,” he said with a wink. His living room was done in dark red and slate gray which did indeed go with the pale gray carpets.
“The dining and kitchen areas are next. The table and chairs are made of, umm...pine, I think and were all assembled by hand after coming home from IKEA.” She tried to look impressed as they went into the kitchen. “Standard man kitchen with no food that can’t be cooked in a microwave. Ignore the dirty dishes in the sink.” They went into the hall, the walls full of framed photos. He hurried her past them and continued his tour. “The bathroom.”
“Very nice, you even put the seat down.” she quipped as he quickly shut the door.
There was only one thing left to see. All of a sudden there was an odd tension between them. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He said a quick thank you to whatever had told him make the bed and clean up the dirty laundry that morning. There was a simple iron bed frame, a low pine dresser, and a large closet. The bed was made up with a navy and hunter green comforter. It was exactly how she pictured it.
“That’s pretty much it,” he said, the humor of the past few minutes gone. She turned abruptly and went back to the living room. He followed and sat on the opposite end of the couch from her. They looked at each other for a second and both spoke at once.
“Sydney, I want you...”
“Michael, I have to tell...”
He knew it was time to hear this. “You first,” he said softly. She bent her head and took a deep breath. The night had been so perfect and so long in the making. She wanted to make sure the memory of it was firmly in place before she said anything.
“I don’t really know where to start. Everything is just so fucking complicated. I wish we could pretend the last four years never happened, but I know we can’t. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure out how I was going to tell you all of this. I had to make a choice in Taipei, you or me. I made the right decision, the only decision. I stayed and she let you live.” She stopped him before he could speak. “No, let me finish. I don’t regret it. I couldn’t bear to have your blood on my hands too.”
He moved closer to her on the couch. “You don’t have to do this,” he said trying to put his arms around her. She shrugged him off and stood up.
“Yes, I do.” she said as she went to the large bay window. It looked out over the city, lights twinkling, it calmed her. “I know what Sark told you. About me and him...” she trailed off. She waited for him to respond. The silence was almost deafening and she couldn’t bear it. “Quicksilver was a drug he and Irina had been feeding me while I was unconscious. They addicted me to it and to them, I suppose. I can’t really explain why I kept taking it, except for that when I did, I could forget. Forget all the shitty things that had happened to me. Danny, Will, SD-6, Sloane, it was all gone. I thought that you and my father would be better off without me. You could move on and find someone who you could be with, who you didn‘t have to hide.”
He grabbed her and spun her around to face him. “Jesus, Syd! How could you think we‘d just forget all about you? He’s your father, for Christ’s sake. He would die for you; he almost did a couple of times! What the fuck gives you the right to make that kind of decision for him of for me, for that matter?” He let her go roughly and began to pace back and forth. “You have been the focus of my life from the minute you walked into the office that day.”
“I know! That’s the thing, I ruined you. Just like I did to everyone else who I touched. I hate myself for that and so many other things. I was a junkie and whore. I slept with Sark for drugs. I helped him and I did whatever he asked and I fucked him and, in my mind he was you. Every time he touched me, I pretended it was you.” That stopped him dead in his tracks. She watched his expression change back and forth between disgust and sadness. She was getting to the end. “I almost died, did you know that? I overdosed in England and in that split second, I saw what I had become and it sickened me. That’s when I knew it was time to choose again, but this time it was only my life on the line.” She felt the tears stinging the back of eyes, and she felt light-headed. His eyes followed her as she went back and collapsed on the couch, her face buried in her hands. He was torn. Part of him wanted to lash out at her, condemn her for taking the easy way out and the other part wanted to gather her into his arms and never let go. She spoke without looking at him.
“I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me. I’m not sure I can forgive myself.” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Michael, for everything.”
She felt his arms come around her and pull her to him. "Sydney, you made mistakes. You can't change what happened. I knew that, as much as I wanted it, you wouldn't be the same as you were before. I'm not the same either. We can't go back, we can only go forward." He softly kissed the top of her head and spoke again. "You don't need to apologize for anything. I'm just glad you're here and you're okay."
“How can you still want to be with me after everything that’s happened? After everything I’ve done to you?” She saw something flash in his eyes.
He moved away from her then. He was starting to get angry. “Syd, I think you need know something. You haven‘t done anything to me. I do what I want when I want. So, if I chose to spend the last four years trying to find you, then it was because I wanted to. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. I want to be with you so bad I can taste it but it’s not because you cast some spell over me.”
She was glad there was some distance between them. It might make this easier. "There's one more thing you need to know before we go any further." She felt him tense up again, but there was no turning back. "I found out at the doctor's office today that I'm…" Willing away the nausea she finished. "I can't have children. Apparently Irina told my dad there was a way to reverse it, but the pages were fake. The drug caused my ovaries to fail in addition screwing up my liver and kidneys.” She saw the stricken expression on his face.
“Syd, I’m so sorry, I don’t know...” he started, but she cut him off.
“Don’t! Don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve had as much pity as I can take in one day.” She stood and went towards the door. “I think I should go.”
He watched her gather up her bag and pull on her sweater. He couldn’t let her leave. It was now or never.
“Syd?” She turned, but found he was standing right behind her. Before she could say anything his mouth was on hers. It was the kiss she had been fantasizing about for such a long time. She sunk back into his arms and deepened the kiss, not wanting to stop, even though she needed to breathe. When he finally pulled his mouth away she whimpered.
“You are not going anywhere. We’ve both waited too long for this,” he said huskily. “No more talking. Just you and me, here together.” he said, nuzzling her neck. His breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine. His hands went up to her shoulders, pulling off the sweater. Their mutual desire was almost palpable. Lips crashing together again, she began to unbutton his shirt. He began to slowly move them toward the bedroom, shedding clothes and barely coming up for breath. They fell back on the bed, bodies entwined. Sydney felt like her senses were on overload. He was different than what she expected, more in control. It made her giggle. He looked over at her from where he was nibbling on her collarbone. “What are you laughing at?”
She stroked his bare back and replied, “I was just thinking that you are much more aggressive than in my imagination.”
He looked her up and down once more before replying. “Well, it’s nice to know I can still surprise you.” He began to slowly trail kisses over her collarbone, through the hollow between her breasts and down to her navel. She shuttered under his touch and he loved it. “I think you’ll find I have many skills not listed in my CIA profile,” he said with a wicked grin. She chuckled and knew there was going to be no sleep for her that night.
*****
She woke the next morning still snuggled tightly against him. She turned over and was struck at how child-like he looked when he was sleeping. It was as if all the stress she had seen on his face had melted away. Reaching up she touched his cheek gently, not wanting to wake him. He had taken his time with her last night, sweetly torturing her before giving her release. The first time was slow and soft and perfect. The second was swift and passionate and after the third time she stopped counting. It was the best night of her life. He started to stir and when she saw the clock, she knew it was time.
“Time to get up sleepy-head.” she sing-songed in his ear. She tickled his side lightly and tried again. “If we don’t get up soon my father is going to come over here and kick your ass for corrupting his daughter.”
He smiled at her with his eyes still closed. “Hey, I wasn’t the only not doing the corrupting. Where did you learn that thing with your tongue, by the way?”
“You liked that, huh?” she said sliding back down under the sheets.
******
By the time he dropped her back at her father’s it was nearly three in the afternoon. She didn’t want to leave, but he had insisted, saying her father was probably wondering what had happened to them. They made plans for later that night and she got out of the car feeling happy for the first time in a very long time. She had finally found what she was looking for.
******
Part Eleven – Epilogue: Normal Life
Just off the Pacific Coast Highway, between Imperial Beach and the Mexican border there is a large house built into the bluffs, right on the ocean. It’s meant to blend in and most people don’t even notice it there. Even fewer people have been inside. This is the house where Michael and Sydney live.
They found it three and a half years ago, just before they got married. It had been built by an eccentric millionaire and was equipped with more security than NASA, including a panic room with an escape hatch to a hidden dock below. It was the perfect house for two semi-retired CIA spies.
She sat on the upstairs balcony, sipping cinnamon tea and thinking about how she was going to tell him. They had woven together a wonderful life. The first year was touch and go, with Michael and her father still going out on missions to dismantle the rest of her mother's organization. There had been several close calls that year. Her father had been shot again, and this time he had more than a scar as a souvenir, he also had a slight limp in his left leg. Michael came home with two knife wounds, one in the back, just above his kidney and the other just inside his right shoulder blade where he been literally stabbed in the back. After the takedown, she insisted he scale back his work and he gladly agreed.
The CIA wanted her back in the field, but Jack put his foot down and said no, citing Syd's medical problems as too risky. She was upset at first, but she came to realize that she could be just as useful on the other end of the com link. She and Michael's positions were now reversed and it was a strange, but not unpleasant feeling. Once he was out of the field she retired completely and, at her father's insistence, went back to school and finally finished her degree. Vaughn was still working for the agency, but as a consultant only. She didn't have to work, but she liked to be busy and she found a job as an online book editor. She could work at home and spend as much time with Michael as she wanted.
Since their first night together they were inseparable. She couldn't get enough of him and he felt the same way. Once she had gone back to her father's and picked up some of her things, they spent the entire weekend in bed and learned everything about the other, from favorite movie (West Side Story for her, Clerks for him) to most embarrassing childhood moment. She tried to make breakfast and almost set his kitchen on fire. She smiled at the memory of him responding to her screams of alarm by racing into the kitchen, gun drawn in nothing but his boxer shorts. She never heard the end of that one. "How did you start a fire with a pan of scrambled eggs?" he had asked, breathless with laughter after he put the fire out.
When they finally got married after a year of "living in sin", as Will put it, it was a small private affair. They had just moved into the house and had the wedding on the beach. The bride wore a long, loose white silk dress and the groom wore blue jeans and a white button down shirt, untucked. The guest list was short but distinguished. Francie and her husband James, Will, Elizabeth, and their daughter Dawn, Eric, Dixon, Diane and their children, Marshall, and of course her father and Marianna, Michael's mother. Before the ceremony Marianna had come to her room and asked to speak to her. She told her the story of how she and Michael's father had met. Syd had heard the story, but hearing her telling it made it more real. He had given her the silver locket on their wedding day, their initials and the date inscribed inside. She opened it and Sydney saw the other side had her and Michael's initials. Marianna said she had hoped one day to have a daughter to pass it onto and now, she did. Sydney was speechless; all she could do was hug her and cry.
Life had been blissfully uneventful. They worked, saw their friends, and went on vacations. The only thing missing was children. They talked about adopting and Francie had gone so far as to volunteer to be their surrogate mother, but they had made peace with the situation. It just wasn't meant to be.
She heard a beep and with a touch the top of table slid back to reveal a security monitor. Michael was back from his trip. She swallowed the rest of her tea and headed down to meet him.
***** He dropped his bag inside the front door and called upstairs in his best Ricky Ricardo voice. "Sydney, I'm home!"
"I'll be right there!" called a muffled voice.
He headed to the kitchen and grabbed an apple out of the basket as he sorted through the mail. "Junk, junk, catalogue, bill, junk, bill, card from Mom, bill, and more junk." He gathered up the junk pile and went to dump it in the trash when he heard her come in behind him. When he turned around he had to catch his breath. She was as beautiful as ever and he had missed her. She came up and kissed him as if they had been apart for years instead of a couple of days.
"Missed you." she said her face in his chest.
"I missed you too,” he said kissing her again. "How was the doctor?" She had been feeling under the weather and he made her promised to go have it checked out while he was gone.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room. She sat them down on the couch and took a deep breath before she spoke.
"Everything was fine. They thought I might have a weird stomach flu, so they ran a bunch of tests, which all came back negative."
He was confused. "So, what's the matter?"
"Nothing's the matter,” she said, smiling. "In fact I couldn't be better. The doctor did say I'd probably have to be careful and stay off my feet in the last month or so before the baby comes though."
"Did, did you say baby?" he said stuttering.
"Yeah, I did. We're having a baby."
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But how? When? How? I thought..."
"Well, if I think you know how. As for when, I'm about two months along. They have no idea how it happened, but everything seems fine for now. I have to go in for a checkup every three weeks or so, due to the special circumstances. Other than that, I'm just like any other girl having a baby."
"God, Syd, this is amazing." He had to fight back the tears. "Does anyone else know? Did you call your dad?"
"Not yet. I wanted to tell you first. He's actually coming for dinner tonight. He's picking up your mother. They'll be here in about an hour."
He swept her up in his arms and headed towards the stairs. "Well, we have just enough time then."
"Michael," she squealed, "what are you doing?"
"If by now I have to draw you a diagram, I better give the birds and bees talk,” he said with a grin.