Chapter 1: Church Meeting

Sydney specifically remembered orders from Jack. "Dixon's been missing for a while. I know that this has been a hard thing for him, but he's gonna have to suck it up. This is the CIA, things are going to happen to you." So, of course, he sent his own daughter out on a mad hunt to find a depressed man. On her way, she couldn't help but remember the last time she talked to someone who had lost his wife. Instantly, she jumped back to the CIA safe house, where James Lennox was being kept.

The night was dark, and when reflecting on it, Sydney distinctly remembered there being a warning of rain. She had gone to the safe house to drop off some groceries for him. Even though she hardly knew the man, Sydney felt she could really connect with him. She almost felt Danny's kiss on her stomach.

"Jim?" She called.

"Beware the grieving man and his bottle," he had warned. Struggling, he stood up with a half-drained bottle of rum.

"I lost my fiancé last year," she told him. "And as hard as it is, I would rather feel it then to not feel anything." Suddenly, James came at her, with a kiss. Even though she knew he was drunk, she felt guilty to both Danny and Michael.

With the honk of a horn, Sydney flashed back to reality. The light she had been waiting at was green again, so she drove through the streets of L.A. on possibly a never-ending manhunt. On the way, it started to rain. In a way, not only because of Dixon's marital status, but also the atmosphere, Sydney felt herself being dragged back to the CIA safe house incident. After nearly an hour of searching, and half an hour of torrential downpours, she found the CIA black sports car parked in a church parking lot. "Oh no," Sydney muttered to herself, entering the building. After opening the colossal set of front doors, she pressed her ear up against the second set to make sure there was no service in progress. Slowly, with wet hands, she opened the door and saw a lone figure in the front pew, with his head bowed. Slowly, she walked down the aisle to his pew. Halfway through, the large wooden doors slammed shut on their hinges and Dixon looked up. What he saw, through his tears, was a dark-haired woman in shambles. In desperation, he muttered, bewildered, "Diane?"

Sydney couldn't take it. She stopped moving, trying to come up with a response. She knew answering yes would let him down soon enough, but saying no would have gotten his hopes up for nothing. Dixon, sensing her reluctance, turned back to facing the massive crucifix on the altar. Sydney started her procession back down the aisle. When she reached the front, she kneeled, crossed herself, and went to kneel next to Dixon. He turned to see his partner of nearly 7 years, and almost smiled. His smile soon reversed itself when he thought of his wife's last moment.

He flashed back to outside the restaurant. "I don't know why I'm surprised, but I am," he had told Vaughn after some discussion about the Lakers. Season passes! The idea excited him, but the casual kiss from his wife excited him more. "I'll be home after I go get the kids," she had told him. If only she had know that would be her last words; her last kiss. The idea that really scared Dixon, though, was that if he had been in the car behind her, he could have possibly been a casualty. But he was happy, in a way. She had said to him earlier "If you had died that day, I would have buried a stranger." In a sick, twisted way, he was happy Diane didn't make a stranger a widower. He laughed, in spite of the situation.

Sydney, thinking that maybe he was feeling better, struck up conversation. "The CIA got some Intel about you wife…" she started.

"Oh God no," Dixon cried. "This can't be another Irina or Elsa situation! Please tell me she was a U.S. Patriot! Please…" he begged.

"No, that's not the case," Sydney said. Then, "I mean, she's not Irina or Elsa. The Intel we found was about her murderer."

"Let me guess. The Irina-Sloane-Sark foundation?"

"Yes. We have video footage from the explosion. It was definitely triggered by something, a detonator. And we saw someone close enough to the car to set it off, and drive away when it exploded. We managed to recover a phone call made in that vicinity…" Sydney trailed off. She couldn't believe what Marshall had uncovered. How could it be?

"Yes?"

"My friend has been the CIA leak to Sloane. I feel like such an idiot, betrayed like that."

Dixon felt that Sydney's emotions were insignificant because he had just lost his wife, but he could understand that Sydney must have been suffering from the betrayal.

"Let's take them down."