A/N: I don't own Alias or any rights to it. This is my first attempt at Alias fanfic, so you'll have to read and review and let me know what you think. I'll try to update as I can, but it might be a little slow going with working. I hope you enjoy! Abs
"I must say, Ms. Gibson, I didn't expect to see you again. Kelly Peyton told me that you had left the agency," the therapist sat down at the desk across from Rachel Gibson. She adjusted her glasses as she picked up Ms. Gibson's file, "Well, I should rephrase that. Peyton told me you were dead," she leaned back in her chair with a casual laugh.
Rachel managed faint smile. Just hearing Kelly Peyton's name made her blood boil, "She thought so," she rolled her eyes, "But here I am."
"Here you are," and leaning across the desk to Rachel, "I'm glad you're here, Rachel. I've been worried."
Her mood lightened. Rachel was here on a mission, but it was good to see a familiar face and talk freely with someone again. No ties. No allegiances. "I was wondering when you'd call me by name," Rachel winked, "How long has it been, April?"
April Morris flipped open the file labeled Rachel Gibson, ID number GDMI100451, to find the last date Rachel was in, "Four months ago. But there was lunch in Prague two months ago. Completely off the books. But Peyton didn't send you back to recollect our last meetings. What's going on?"
-----
"Alright, keep her talking Oracle, I'm in the air shaft. Outrigger, what is the situation with the guards?" Agent Thomas Grace questioned.
"You're all clear, Sidewinder. The file room is around your next corner, about 50 feet in front of you. You'll need to go radio silent."
----
April Morris adjusted her glasses, "They keep sliding down my nose," she laughed. She had known Rachel since she had began working for Gordon Dean four years ago. She had profiled her, and conducted all her psychological evaluations before they hired her. Since then, she and Rachel had forged a friendship, which was very rare in her line of work. "What have you been up? Since you're obviously not dead?"
"I've moved to a different division within the CIA. Doing much of the same thing," Rachel omitted the part that her previous employment wasn't actually CIA. April didn't need to know that. She needed to still believe that it was Kelly Peyton who sent her in for evaluation. April needed to believe that she was still working for the enemy or her current mission would be compromised. "You know, op tech, hacking. Same ole…with a little competition from a very interesting character. Anyway, I've been put in situations lately that have made me reconsider my desk job," her mind flashed back to her recent run-in with Julian Sark and defusing the bomb, "I need to be cleared for field training."
April opened the file in front of her and beginning sifting through her previous notes. "That's new," she smiled. Rachel returned it. "You're excited about it?"
"I am. I've met some incredible people at my new place. There's this one agent—amazing. That's the only word I can come up with for her. With everything she's been through, she's still 100 loyal. She's really motivated me to work hard and learn fast. I'm even thinking about learning other languages," Rachel opened up.
April nodded, "It's tough. I'm speaking from experience."
"You're field trained?" Rachel shot back.
April shook her head in disagreement, "No, but I speak seven languages." Rachel's eyes widened and she let out a small chortle, "Surprised? I have to for my line of work. Not everyone speaks English, even though we're in England." April's eyes wandered to her computer screen before she stood up, "If you'll excuse me for a few minutes. I need to go get new evaluation form. Then when I come back, we'll get more into this."
"Oracle, where is she going?" Dixon questioned feverishly.
Rachel waited until April had shut the door, "Her office. That's where she keeps her current files and forms. This one is just for counseling for security purposes. Everything is ok."
-----
April shut the door behind her and readjusted her glasses. The image from her computer screen appeared in front of her. There was a man crawling through the air vent to the file room and she was picking up a CIA communications frequency on her headset. She pulled up her sleeve and adjusted the dials, the security cameras set on a loop and she made her way to the file room.
Hastily, she entered the code to enter the file room, including the retina scan and EKG before the door opened. Entering a separate code on the keypad inside, she lifted a tranquilizer gun from the drawer that opened. She entered the room as the grate above her was lifted out of place. She readjusted her glasses so that she was now on communication with Rachel, Dixon, and Grace. "Hi there we have 2 minutes before the loop I'm running stops and everyone in this building can see us," she pointed the gun at a masked Grace, "So, whatcha doing?" she smiled knowingly.
"I'm unarmed," Grace held his hands.
"I know, it would be against protocol," her eyes never moved from Grace, while his remained transfixed on her. "I also know, that if you jump down from there, you're going to kill everyone in this building. This floor is rigged with explosives. I have to have a retinal scan, and EKG to enter the room. It is monitoring my heart rhythm right now, and it also knows my weight. You jump down here and it all goes boom. That includes Ms. Gibson back in my office. Mr. Outrigger, you wouldn't want that on your conscious would you—losing both your assets?" Dixon shifted nervously in his seat from the van outside the office building. "I know you can hear me. I'm on your com frequency. I have been since you got here. You're CIA. You always use the same frequencies, and I know how to hack into it," April rolled her eyes.
"Why should we believe you?" Dixon finally spoke as Grace held his precarious position above Emily and the file room floor.
"Because I'm on the same side as you. CIA voice recognition code bravo, delta, charlie, 6-3-0-8-6. Run it. Tick-tock…"
Dixon quickly called Marshall back at APO headquarters, "Marshall, I have a CIA voice recognition clip for you to run. Now!" he called urgently.
"Ready," Marshall pulled up the necessary network programs.
"Here's the clip," Dixon replayed the recording for Marshall.
A confirmation page flashed before Marshall, minus a name or picture, "Well, good news or bad news?"
"What? Marshall, I don't have time. Good news!"
"Ok, ok. Trying to make it light—the good news is that this person is CIA. The bad news is I still can't tell you who she is. It's all classified," Marshall verified.
"That's good enough for me. Thanks Marshall. Sidewinder, she's CIA. Tell her what we need."
"Thirty seconds. Good timing. Mr. Flinkman's quicker than I thought. What file are you looking for, Sidewinder?" April still didn't remove the tranquilizer gun sights from Thomas's neck.
Grace sat transfixed for a moment. Although Marshall had verified that this woman below him worked for the CIA, he didn't know if he should trust her. His instincts said yes, but his training told him no. If she knew enough to be listening to the communications between him, Dixon, and Rachel, what if she also knew how to hack the CIA system? Give herself an identity? But she didn't have time to do that, he retionalized.
"The name. Now," April hastened.
"Angeline Molina. Spanish division of Mili-Corps," Grace practically whispered.
April dropped the gun in shock, "What?" she asked indignantly, then pointing it back at Grace, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Grace rolled his eyes at her."
"Time's up, close the grate behind you. I'll be in contact," April dropped the gun back in the drawer before going to the file and grabbing Angeline Molina's psych file. On her way out of the room she grabbed a field agent evaluation.
Back in the counseling room, Rachel was pacing. "What did I do?"
Rachel had known April in the context of work since she had been working with Dean. She had quarterly evaluations with her, and when April was in Prague, they would have lunch, dinner, or even go out dancing. She had never questioned who April worked for. Then again, she had never questioned who she herself had worked for—so, April had never really deceived her. She had always worked for the CIA. But she could have told Rachel that she didn't!
April walked back in the room and slipped her glasses in her jacket pocket. Rachel watched her walk back around to the other side of her desk before she resumed her seat. "Want an apple?" April offered from the fruit bowl on the book shelf beside Rachel's placement on the sofa. "Watch out for the fruit flies," she warned.
"It's code, Oracle. The room is bugged," Dixon interpreted.
"I'll pass," Rachel leaned back.
April took a deep breath, "I know we haven't worked together in a long time, but you can still trust me. I'm the same person I've always been," she held her breath and looked away, "We still need to evaluate you for field training. Tell me what made you decide to go into field work and why you think you're field ready?"
After an hour, Rachel emerged from the Vesuvius office building, with an encrypted note in her pocket. "She slipped this in my pocket when she hugged me goodbye," she handed it to Dixon, "it's all numbers."
He looked at it a minute, "Have you tried to read it?"
"No," Rachel slouched into the passenger seat as Grace cranked the engine and they left the parking lot.
"Good, because I was going to be disappointed if you weren't able to interpret it. It's the simplest code imaginable," he laughed, "every number corresponds with the alphabet. It's a meeting place, time, and who. Grace. You're going to meet her to get the file. Three hours. Let's report back to Jack."
Rachel didn't say anything, but sat silently contemplating her conversation with April, "Don't worry," Grace finally consoled her, "We turned off your com-link once we realized she was on our side. Your conversation is still confidential." Rachel finally felt herself breathe.
-----
At 6:30, Grace met Emily Morris at Covent Garden in London's theatre district. She had her iPod in her ears and was looking at silver jewelry in the market. "This is beautiful, don't you think?" she picked up a bracelet with a garnet center and Celtic engravings, "You should get it for her," she turned to Grace with a deliberate smile.
"Who?" she had caught him off-guard.
"Come, have a seat, it's less conspicuous," she put the bracelet back on the table and walked to the nearby café. "Order something," she insisted as Grace picked up the menu and realized that a CD was tucked inside, "I personally like a café au lait with cinnamon. But that's me."
"I appreciate the suggestion," Grace looked up at his new colleague.
April shook her head, "OK, this is on me," she set five pounds on the table as she stood up, "Nice working with you, Mr. Grace. Let's never do it again," April turned to walk away, "I mean it. Next time you need something, go through the right channels. Ciao." And she disappeared.
-----
Two days later, Dixon, Grace and Rachel reconvened at APO for the debriefing. Jack Bristow was standing in front of the group of Sydney, Marshall, Rachel, Grace, and Dixon with the file open on the computer screen with the picture of a Spanish woman, "This is Angeline Molina. She is an agent with Mili-Corps, formerly with the Alliance. Sloane and I know her from our previous affiliations."
"I think I remember her," Sydney interjected, "She's a Rambaldi follower. We worked together on a mission."
"Yes, recovering a token that when placed within the sun's light at precisely 5:03 pm, in Rome would reveal a sequence of hieroglyphs within a painting. We now have reason to believe this artifact has come into the hands of the men of Prophet Five," Jack clicked to the next slide, "We're not entirely sure what it can be interpreted to mean as we are missing key components to the cipher code. We are assuming this pattern is the EEG of one of the key players in Rambaldi's endgame."
"Like Nadia's," Sydney remembered.
"Exactly. Marshall," Jack motioned to Marshall.
Marshall looked around, "Exactly, Marshall, what?"
"It's your turn to talk," Jack raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, right," Marshall stood up, "Hi all. Welcome back you three. Good job in London. I hope it wasn't all work and no play. Catch some shows, throw back a pint," he paused, "Right. Ok. The only reason we are suspecting that this is going to be an EEG is because of this hieroglyph here," he pointed to an inverted triangle with three dots above it. "Why you ask? Because we've seen it before. With Nadia. The hieroglyph appeared in the same text. But after that, the rest is a mystery. No way to find the person based on what we know right now."
Jack stood and preceded with the debriefing, "The information that was obtained from London was crucial. Peyton and Prophet Five have contacted Ms. Molina and are using her connections to gather more information. She has been seen by Ms. Morris at Vesuvius and had divulged information to her regarding future and past missions in the air of confidentiality. Molina is meeting with Peyton in Monaco in three days to exchange information. Dixon, Grace, you're going in to apprehend Molina before the interchange. Dixon's point, Grace is back-up. You'll pose as one of her associates at the scheduled drop time and give Peyton fake cipher text. Then return here for us to go through it. That's all."
The group dispersed, but Rachel hung back. "Sydney," she asked as Syd stood, "when you first found out that the people you worked with, the people you had trusted were not who they said they were… how did it make you feel?"
"What happened?" Syd sat back down.
"Well, April Morris, the agent in London. She's CIA. And apparently has been deep undercover for years. Marshall said all her information is classified. But I know she has worked as a profiler at Vesuvius for at least four years. We've been friends. I've told her stuff—lots of stuff. And all the time, I thought we worked for the same side. But as it ends up, she worked for the CIA, and I didn't. And I didn't even know…and she always did," Rachel's voice trailed, "It's hard enough realizing that you have been working for the exact people you are trying to thwart for four years, then to find out that your friend knew you were working for the bad guy, and never said anything."
Sydney gave her an empathetic smile, "Try it being your father. I worked at SD-6 for six years before I knew they were not really a covert division of the CIA…with my father, who knew the whole time. He never said anything to me. And I hated him for it." Sydney watched Rachel's eyes turn red, and she took her hand, "But you know, I got over it. It took me a couple of years but I got over it. I don't know why Ms. Morris's cover is so tightly kept, but the CIA has a reason, just like they have a reason to keep APO secret. And if she had told you who she was, she would not only have blown her cover, but yours. Because think about it, you might have thought that she was working with the CIA, but your bosses didn't. They thought, and still think she works for them. That's the way it's got to be."
"You're right," Rachel nodded, "I didn't think of it that way."