A.N. This is my first Alias fic, so don't go toooo harsh on me. I would really love some feedback though. This is a Sarkney (not for a while though), but will have some references to horrible things like S/V and Lark I suppose, with JuSi, and J/I. It is not all about romance though! Mostly a retelling of the whole Rambaldi stuff. AU from mid-season 2, with some changes that will hopefully be obvious.
Timeline. Just before Sydney's missing 2 years, there are flashbacks to earlier stuff though.
Anything else. I don't own 'em! The title is from a Midnight Oil song of the same namewith the chapter heading the title of a Dizzy Gillespie song.
Scream in Blue
Bang Bang Part 1
The little girl tossed and turned, twisted limbs askew amongst her pink, fairy emblazoned quilt. Beads of sweat formed across her forehead; fine hair becoming knotted, clinging to her flushed cheeks. Small eyelids squeezed tightly, subconsciously trying to close her mind to whatever thoughts were haunting her. Slowly, they blinked open, revealing the waking world. One in which she was safe from the creepy 'tree men' who plagued her dreams. They were as tall as the sky, with long, spindly branches, lurching forward to scoop her up. Instead of leaves, they appeared to be shrouded in long, grey tendrils, like an old man's beard. The whispering dream world they inhabited, filled her with a sense of dread which never seemed to materialize. The trees were nothing like the huge weeping willow standing proud and tall in her garden. The one her father hung a small plank of wood and rope from, for her to swing the days away. That was green and lush, its' canopy grazing the heavens, not staring down menacingly from the dark depths of the midnight sky.
Sydney sat up in bed and quickly hopped off, bundling her dolly under her arm and followed the soft sounds of laughter to the living room. A warm light emanated from the small space between door and shiny hardwood floor. She timidly pushed the door and peered through the crack with wide eyes.
The woman was seated on the man's lap, his arms holding her close, fingers playing with the ends of her long, chestnut hair. Noses nuzzling necks, soft murmurs Sydney could not make out. Then one eye opened, focusing on her hidden spot in the shadows behind the door. The other face turned. And two fingers motioned her forward. She snuggled into her mother's warm embrace, sniffling about the monsters in the dark, as her father relinquished his hold on the woman and sent them on their way.
Her mother tucked her back under her covers, quilt up to chin, with dolly still secured tightly under arm. She stroked her hair back from her eyes, behind ears, and told her a tale to soothe the darkness away.
Sydney listened to her mother's voice and felt herself in the dark woods again, wandering aimlessly through the night. A sudden flash and light was all around her. She looked behind, but it was gone. Another flash, and she felt a scorching heat rush over her. She ran. Her small feet a blur, but her face moved in slow motion. She felt the sweat sliding along her skin and dripping off into the wind. Then with no warning it was black again, and she found herself standing at the gate of a small cottage. The gate opened with an unearthly creak, and lights flickered from nowhere, illuminating a short, dusty path. The cottage came to life, literally. It turned on strange, retractable legs, and a small door appeared at the end of the path. Opening wide, it urged her inside.
Her small body walked through and Sydney saw a grey-haired, old woman hunched in the corner, puffing steadily on a long, golden pipe. Swirls of smoke danced through the room, making her feel woozy. The woman's eyes flashed at her, daring her to speak. Sydney sank back a little, but the woman tipped the contents of her pipe into the fireplace, stood up and hobbled over to Sydney. She patted her on the head, and in an instant, Sydney felt strangely uncomfortable. Her knees were now pressed up against her chin, hands and arms curled under and around her legs. Shoulders hunched over her chest, she felt like a giant trying to fit into a pixie shoe.
"I saw things!"
"Yes, child." The old woman nodded.
"I saw a...a...a, black horseman. Out there." Sydney pointed as best she could outside. "I was frightened. The dark...I...do not..." She could not quite finish her sentence.
She nodded again. "My servant is who you saw. My black, dark night."
"And, then. Then, it was bright, and I could barely see anything. Just a flash. I thought I was blind, but the flash faded away..."
Another nod. "My white horseman. My dawn, my bright dawn." She smiled up at Sydney.
"Then, I was running. I was so hot, I thought I was going to melt! The world was red." Sydney flicked her head to the fireplace, gazing into the burning embers before returning her focus to the woman. "Was the world on fire?"
The old woman shook her head and merely told her, "My servant, child. My red sun."
The world outside was flashing, light streaming through the windows of the cottage. The brightness hurt Sydney's eyes, even closed she could feel it, imprinting shapes on her mind's eye. As it faded, she opened them again to feel the heat of the red sun assault her senses. As if knowing what was coming, Sydney squeezed through the small door of the cottage. She towered over the small dwelling now, and felt brave for a moment. She thought of running, out of the woods, back to her big weeping willow, her home, before the horseman came closer to her. He brought the night with him. She saw the sky changing, a bright red succumbing to inky nothingness.
The horses' eyes gleamed red, and Sydney felt a sudden burning pain in her shoulder. She fell to the ground, and saw the old woman standing over her, chocolate eyes glistening.
"Truth takes time, child."
"I don't understand." Sydney looked up to the woman who was carefully examining her wound. When she seemed satisfied, she turned back toward her home.
"Without the dark night, we would never have a bright dawn." Her voice trailed off as she walked through the door, a small smile crinkling her old face. The door closed tight, an unusual 'hum' filling the air. It looked as though the door was never there, the edges blended into the cottage walls, seams soldered by an electric blue glow tracing its outline, then fading to grey again.
In an instant, the strange legs that had been tucked under, lifted the cottage, as if hiking up a skirt to step across a puddle. It then turned a perfect half circle and re-established its foundations on terra firma. All the lights flickering along the gate faded, then cut completely, leaving Sydney alone, in the dark once more.
Sydney removed her hand from her shoulder. It was sticky, felt cold against the breath of the horse looking down over her. And suddenly, up close, the horse was not so scary anymore. Its' mane, was silky, glowing. Eyes like black pearls, gleaming with something she knew was not malicious, but knowing. Twitching ears which seemed like horns of the devil earlier, now were just alert, always moving, ever aware. Slowly, Sydney lifted her bloodied hand, summoning courage to pat the beast's nose.
When her hand was almost at the animal's snout, her world shook. In the blink of an eye, she was running through a field of green. Swimming in knee high grass, almost drowning in it. There was noise all around her, so loud it echoed in her ears. She turned around and saw herself. She was lying, taking cover, from what she did not yet know, in the grass, staring in disbelief. Tears threatened to burn past her lashes.
"Give me your hand!" Yelled a voice from somewhere above her.
Sydney looked down at her bloodied hand. Instinctively it reached up to her damaged shoulder again and she saw fresh blood beginning to flow. Streaming through her fingers, under nails, and forming perfect, rounded droplets on the green clovers padding her feet.
She lifted her arm to the voice, and through clouded eyes, saw two perfect blue ones staring back. Pain screamed through her side, but she kept her hand up, reaching to his gathering arms, arms now painted with her blood.
"I'll never let you go, Sydney."
Her eyes looked to her shoulder. There was no gaping wound, just a small, puckered scar. She closed her eyes and allowed the noise in her ears to become louder and louder, until she was sure her ear drums would burst.
∞
Present Day. Los Angeles.
Sydney woke with a start. Sark? She pondered, shaking her head, as a bead of sweat trailed her temple. Her side ached. Had she slept on it too long? She felt her heart thumping, trying to pound its way straight through her rib cage, as her fore finger rubbed absent-mindedly on the small scar on her shoulder.
Her cell phone rang. How long has that been ringing? She reached to her bedside table, and flicked it open.
"Sydney?"
"Dad?" She managed to croak out.
"I need to see you."
She thought she said ok, but her throat refused to co-operate. It felt dry, raspy, as if she had spent the night screaming like a hormone-fueled teenager at a Robbie Williams concert. With phone to chest, she tried clearing her throat again and attempted to answer her father.
"Ok. Give me 30 minutes. Usual place?"
"Are you feeling alright, Sydney?"
"Sure, Dad." She smiled, as if it would magically convince her father through the phone, somehow. "Just woke up is all. I will see you soon."
With a sigh, she dragged herself from her warm covers and slipped into the bathroom. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, she splashed her tired eyes with cold water. One pair of navy trackpants and red sweater later, she was tying her Nikes and pounding the pavement.
The early morning sun was shining brightly, her eyes squinting involuntarily. Squeezing them open and closed a couple times, she felt her residual tiredness fade as she quickened her pace to a sprint. The feeling of her feet moving faster than the rest of her body, sent small shivers of adrenalin rushing through her. As she rounded the last corner to her destination, her breath caught up to her feet, then as she eased off, both steadied to a slower pace. She saw her father leaning against the railing of the jetty, looking out to sea.
Without turning, he handed her a bottle of water as she came up beside him. She broke the seal, and drenched her throat with the icy, cool water.
"That's better." And it really was. It was remarkable how many demons she could exorcise with a simple, knee-jarring, quad-burning run.
Her father turned to her and nodded, lips pressed tightly together.
"So, why am I here, Dad?" She studied his face, looking for a clue to their Saturday morning rendez-vous.
"I have reason to believe you are going to be, or currently are, being targeted Sydney. By whom, and to what end, is still somewhat of an unknown."
Sydney snorted. "Yeah, well, when hasn't that been the case lately?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She sighed and took another splash of water to her mouth. "Where did this intel come from? I can only assume through non-CIA sanctioned sources, considering our current location."
Jack pulled out a small white envelope from his jacket. "Who this came from is not the question at the moment, Sydney."
"I don't understand." A sick feeling spread over her as she remembered her earlier dream. "Dad, do not tell me Mom has anything to do with this."
He furrowed his brow at her, as if surprised by her supposition. "I did not receive this intel from your mother." He handed her the envelope and waited her reaction.
"The Gemini Project?" She asked.
"Mmhm." Her father nodded
"I have not heard of it. Should this mean something to me?"
"I'm not surprised. It's apparently the DSR's new pet."
"What's this? Two minds, one body..." She trailed off in thought. Two minds...If anyone is planning a lobotomy for my future, I have two little friends they can meet, and they don't need a mind to work! Her toe arched up in her sneaker as she lazily nudged at the small firearm held at her ankle by a soft, leather holster. And Vaughn, he has one too, more than one! Oh! That one too! Not so little... Ahhh. She felt a faint blush come to her cheeks as she realised what she was thinking in her father's presence.
"The Department of Special Research has apparently taken it upon themse..."
"Wait. DSR? What do they have to with this, Dad ? I mean, past arrests and problems aside, aren't we all on the same side ? They don't plan on taking off with my brain or some other bizarre, Rambaldi fueled mania, do they?" She sighed, feeling a little deflated at the mere thought of Rambaldi.
"We may have reason to suspect a rogue force operating within the DSR agenda, Sydney."
"To what end? What is this?" She pointed to the four words, running her finger over them as if to gain some unseen knowledge. "Two minds, one body?"
"Mind control."
"Like a sleeper agent, or ..."
He shook his head. "I'm working on more information, Sydney. Don't worry, I will get to the bottom of this. Just..." He paused a second, "stay vigilant. Perhaps it is not even directed at you, but someone close to you? How has Francie been lately? Will?"
A second sickly feeling spread over Sydney. She tried to sip a mouthful of water from the near empty bottle, but could barely swallow it. Will had almost recovered from her 'coming out' to him, and he was living a semi-normal life again. With Francie, even! She smiled inwardly. Who would've thought those two crazy kids would ever get together? Apart from her fellow CIA officers, she could not think of anyone else who could be targeted to affect her, in any way, shape or form.
"Can I give you a lift home, Sydney?"
She snapped out of her thought and nodded to her father, following him to his car parked a block over. Taking a final drink of water, she opened the car door; she threw the bottle over her shoulder, cocking her head behind her to watch it spin through the air, and land plum in the garbage bin to her rear. Her father flashed her a half smile and they set off, each sitting in silent contemplation for the ride.
Sydney stared out the window, watching the world fly past. Couples walking hand in hand, enjoying the morning sunshine. She noticed one rather boisterous dalmatian jumping, almost dancing with its' owner, who was trying in vain to regain some control. A small grin crossed her face. Her eyes closed a moment, briefly remembering watching 101 Dalmatians as a child and begging her father to let her have one. He never did, of course; just a soft, stuffed replica.
Her eyes opened again as the car slowed to the lights. Another man walking, one hand in pocket, the other holding a cell phone close to his ear. His faded blue jeans hung low on his hips; fitted black t-shirt clinging to a slim, yet shapely torso; light, curly locks escaping from the back of a cap. The car stopped at the lights, and Sydney watched the young man approach the curb in her rear vision mirror. His black baseball cap was pulled down low, obscuring a proper view of his face. I love LA, she thought as the lights turned green and the car took off once more. She saw the man becoming farther away again. So many pretty boys to brighten a girl's day! Only when they reached her apartment did her father speak again.
"Perhaps another bug sweep would be prudent, sweetheart." He mentioned as she undid her belt, and slipped out the car.
"Yeah. Thanks, Dad." Ducking her head through the window, she looked to her father. " I want to know the moment you hear more on this." He nodded in reply, and she headed inside.
When Sydney reached her door, she bent over to remove her key from her sneaker pocket. She was just about to stand, when the door was opened for her. Ten pink, painted toenails greeted her eyes.
"Woah! Francie, you scared the hell out of me!" Sydney almost knocked her room mate upside the chin with her head, as she stood up in surprise. Turning back a second, she sent a wave to her father, who was still waiting, the car engine purring softly. Sydney walked inside. Francie followed her, sending her own look back to the man.
∞
Sitting in his car, Jack Bristow waited for the inevitable call. As if his impatience was a tangible feeling in the air, his cell rang.
"Yes?"
"Does she know?"
"She knows..enough."
"Really, Agent Bristow. You are not the only one with a stake in this."
"How can you be sure Miss Calfo has been compromised? Contrary to our current circumstance, you are not my first, or even last choice in matters of trust."
"I was fully briefed. The procedure was performed almost three months ago now. A small implant inserted into her left nasal cavity. Untraceable as you would expect using our current tech. Impossible to remove, of course." He pondered that thought a moment. "Well, perhaps not impossible. Death strikes me as an obstacle even the most pernicious of devices could not overcome."
"How, comforting."
"I took the liberty of removing some of the more problematic surveillance devices from your daughter's home during your meet this morning. I see no reason for those to fall into DSR hands. I actually objected at first to their installation, but chivalry is indeed dead it would seem."
"Well, claims of protecting Sydney's virtue aside, I will expect those tonight. I assume you were not noticed by Miss. Calfo."
"Actually, funny story, really. I had her fetch the bugs for me. Charming woman, a veritable credit to the project. My associates will be expecting the others though."
Jack rolled his eyes and let slip a short grunt.
"Yes, well. Extraction is set for tonight, 10:30 p.m."
"Fine."
"I hope so Jack. My employers..." A momentary pause, before he concluded, "...do not appreciate failure, nor do they anticipate complications." and pressed 'END' on his phone.
∞
The story Laura/Irina told Sydney in her dream is based loosely on an old Russian folk tale about an old crone, her weird cottage and her three horsemen in the forest.