Precious Angel
Sydney entered the warehouse, distinctly noting the slouched posture of Vaughn. Something was wrong, he seemed to scream. He instinctively turned around and gave her a pitiful smile, helplessly trying to hide his distraught.
"What's wrong Vaughn? What is it?" Sydney asked, worried that something may have happened to him.
He smiled, this time a bit more persuading, and asked "How are you feeling today?" It was obvious that he was trying to avoid the subject at hand.
"I'm good. What's wrong?"
He grimaced and grabbed her hand. "They're sending you on a mission. I tried to talk them out of it, I told them you were in no condition to go, but they insisted. I can't talk them out of it. Next week you have to go to Belarus to infiltrate Khasinau's home. This is like suicide Syd, I can't let you go."
Sydney let the words sink in. She knew Vaughn had given it his all, tried to get her out of it. He probably wouldn't have stopped if they hadn't have been in such a precarious situation. She was lucky enough to see him, to have him as her handler. She knew Vaughn was not on the top of Devlin's list of favorite people, and within the last months she was certain that Devlin's acceptance of Vaughn's methods had been running short.
Sydney also knew that she couldn't go on the mission. At least, certainly not alone. She was in no shape to be infiltrating the house of a sworn enemy, any more than she was running the government. She could see the pain in Vaughn's eyes as he watched her absorb the information. He hated this more than she did herself.
"What are we going to do?" She quietly whispered.
Vaughn reached out his free hand and gently caressed her swollen stomach. "I'm coming with you."
Sydney knew that standing here, in the middle of Belarus, with Vaughn protecting her, that her father had had something to do with it. As disappointed in her as he was, he would never induce harm on her, or his future grandchild. Her father, as gruff as he was, was looking out for her.
Preparing for the mission, was in the least, strenuous. Sydney had to learn to get around quickly with an added twenty pounds. It was a reassuring fact that Vaughn had come along. She could barely run down the hall, so she was glad to have some back up for when the guards came to break up the party.
The mission began easily, break through the sunlight on the ceiling and make their way through the extensive corridors, and find the basement. The hallways seemed eerie, the light streaming through the windows, showing the dust particles dancing in the warmth. Ghostly eyes stared down at them as they crept along. The echoes of people below them radiated up, the cry of surprise when they were spotted was overpowered with the ominous laugh rumbling from below. It was as if Khasinau knew they were caught, laughing at their misfortune.
They both woke up several hours later, tied to chairs on opposite ends of a tiny, dreary room. Within minutes of their awakening the owner of the house made his presence known, emerging from a dark corner and smiling at them in an unnatural way.
"Well. if it isn't Sydney Bristow. And Mister Vaughn. What a family reunion," he reached down and patted Sydney's stomach, "Hi baby, this is your Uncle Khasinau. How are you today? I love you very much, you know."
Sydney felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn't the inexhaustible kicking coming from inside of her. It was the fact that this man actually thought he was allowed to love her child. The feelings she felt were mirrored in Vaughn's eyes.
"Well, since you both seem a bit shy, I'll get right down to buisness. I want your child. And I will have your child. Do I make myself clear?"
"Go screw yourself," Sydney replied, trying to wiggle her hands free. Her fingers caught on to something, her keys. Her keys with the Swiss Army knife attached. She wanted to laugh out loud. The ironies of life. Quickly cutting through the rope, she planned her attack on Khasinau. So he wanted her child?
Jumping out of her chair as his back turned she stabbed him twice in the neck and watched him fall limply to the floor. Within seconds she had freed Vaughn and they were out the door.
Running down the halls they tried to remember which way they had come. Sydney began to fall behind, her pace nowhere near as fast as Vaughn's. By the time he had made it to the end of the hall she was still trying to make it up the steps. Right before her eyes she watched Vaughn be surrounded by menacing guards. Slipping unnoticed into a spare room, she left the door slightly ajar so she could see and here what was going on.
"Where is your partner?"
"I don't have a partner. I was sent here with one, but we were separated. She." Vaughn cut off his sentence short and began to attack the guards. Sydney's heart sunk as he tried to get away from them and head back her way. She watched as he tore one of the guard's guns out of his hand. Gasping at the audaciousness of his act, she drew the guard's attention to the room she was in. Glancing around she saw that she was in a closet. There wasn't anywhere to go. She was stuck. And then it happened. Something she would never forget in her life.
She saw Vaughn bring the gun up to his temple, the action seemed to last a lifetime, each second passing by for hours. She saw him pull back the trigger, and she saw his body lifelessly hit the floor. And she knew what he had done. He had taken his own life so the guards wouldn't find her. He had taken his own life so that she and their child could have a fighting chance.
Lucie Michelle was born in the bright light of an early autumn day. Three weeks before her birth SD-6 had been taken down, three days before the Alliance had fallen. Lucie was her father's child; obsessed with sports from an early day, screaming right along with the rest of the King's fan. She had his bright green eyes, and blonde highlights throughout her light brown hair. But most of all, she was an angel. On cold nights she would cuddle up with her mother to hear how daddy had become a guardian angel. She'd often fall asleep in the story, but she knew it by heart. Because her heart had been there.
Sydney entered the warehouse, distinctly noting the slouched posture of Vaughn. Something was wrong, he seemed to scream. He instinctively turned around and gave her a pitiful smile, helplessly trying to hide his distraught.
"What's wrong Vaughn? What is it?" Sydney asked, worried that something may have happened to him.
He smiled, this time a bit more persuading, and asked "How are you feeling today?" It was obvious that he was trying to avoid the subject at hand.
"I'm good. What's wrong?"
He grimaced and grabbed her hand. "They're sending you on a mission. I tried to talk them out of it, I told them you were in no condition to go, but they insisted. I can't talk them out of it. Next week you have to go to Belarus to infiltrate Khasinau's home. This is like suicide Syd, I can't let you go."
Sydney let the words sink in. She knew Vaughn had given it his all, tried to get her out of it. He probably wouldn't have stopped if they hadn't have been in such a precarious situation. She was lucky enough to see him, to have him as her handler. She knew Vaughn was not on the top of Devlin's list of favorite people, and within the last months she was certain that Devlin's acceptance of Vaughn's methods had been running short.
Sydney also knew that she couldn't go on the mission. At least, certainly not alone. She was in no shape to be infiltrating the house of a sworn enemy, any more than she was running the government. She could see the pain in Vaughn's eyes as he watched her absorb the information. He hated this more than she did herself.
"What are we going to do?" She quietly whispered.
Vaughn reached out his free hand and gently caressed her swollen stomach. "I'm coming with you."
Sydney knew that standing here, in the middle of Belarus, with Vaughn protecting her, that her father had had something to do with it. As disappointed in her as he was, he would never induce harm on her, or his future grandchild. Her father, as gruff as he was, was looking out for her.
Preparing for the mission, was in the least, strenuous. Sydney had to learn to get around quickly with an added twenty pounds. It was a reassuring fact that Vaughn had come along. She could barely run down the hall, so she was glad to have some back up for when the guards came to break up the party.
The mission began easily, break through the sunlight on the ceiling and make their way through the extensive corridors, and find the basement. The hallways seemed eerie, the light streaming through the windows, showing the dust particles dancing in the warmth. Ghostly eyes stared down at them as they crept along. The echoes of people below them radiated up, the cry of surprise when they were spotted was overpowered with the ominous laugh rumbling from below. It was as if Khasinau knew they were caught, laughing at their misfortune.
They both woke up several hours later, tied to chairs on opposite ends of a tiny, dreary room. Within minutes of their awakening the owner of the house made his presence known, emerging from a dark corner and smiling at them in an unnatural way.
"Well. if it isn't Sydney Bristow. And Mister Vaughn. What a family reunion," he reached down and patted Sydney's stomach, "Hi baby, this is your Uncle Khasinau. How are you today? I love you very much, you know."
Sydney felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn't the inexhaustible kicking coming from inside of her. It was the fact that this man actually thought he was allowed to love her child. The feelings she felt were mirrored in Vaughn's eyes.
"Well, since you both seem a bit shy, I'll get right down to buisness. I want your child. And I will have your child. Do I make myself clear?"
"Go screw yourself," Sydney replied, trying to wiggle her hands free. Her fingers caught on to something, her keys. Her keys with the Swiss Army knife attached. She wanted to laugh out loud. The ironies of life. Quickly cutting through the rope, she planned her attack on Khasinau. So he wanted her child?
Jumping out of her chair as his back turned she stabbed him twice in the neck and watched him fall limply to the floor. Within seconds she had freed Vaughn and they were out the door.
Running down the halls they tried to remember which way they had come. Sydney began to fall behind, her pace nowhere near as fast as Vaughn's. By the time he had made it to the end of the hall she was still trying to make it up the steps. Right before her eyes she watched Vaughn be surrounded by menacing guards. Slipping unnoticed into a spare room, she left the door slightly ajar so she could see and here what was going on.
"Where is your partner?"
"I don't have a partner. I was sent here with one, but we were separated. She." Vaughn cut off his sentence short and began to attack the guards. Sydney's heart sunk as he tried to get away from them and head back her way. She watched as he tore one of the guard's guns out of his hand. Gasping at the audaciousness of his act, she drew the guard's attention to the room she was in. Glancing around she saw that she was in a closet. There wasn't anywhere to go. She was stuck. And then it happened. Something she would never forget in her life.
She saw Vaughn bring the gun up to his temple, the action seemed to last a lifetime, each second passing by for hours. She saw him pull back the trigger, and she saw his body lifelessly hit the floor. And she knew what he had done. He had taken his own life so the guards wouldn't find her. He had taken his own life so that she and their child could have a fighting chance.
Lucie Michelle was born in the bright light of an early autumn day. Three weeks before her birth SD-6 had been taken down, three days before the Alliance had fallen. Lucie was her father's child; obsessed with sports from an early day, screaming right along with the rest of the King's fan. She had his bright green eyes, and blonde highlights throughout her light brown hair. But most of all, she was an angel. On cold nights she would cuddle up with her mother to hear how daddy had become a guardian angel. She'd often fall asleep in the story, but she knew it by heart. Because her heart had been there.