Disclaimer: I don't and will never own ALIAS or any of its characters
Agent Sydney Bristow was used to odd things happening. There were things she'd seen that would seem impossible to anyone other than a CIA agent. She had even "died" once or twice. But this job had claimed too many lives.
She sat on the couch with fellow agent, Michael Vaughn. She wanted to tell him what she was feeling, that she was scared that one day soon she would lose her life because of the job she held at APO, a black ops division of the CIA, that they both could lose their lives, but she couldn't.
"What are you thinking?" He asked her after a number of minutes had passed. She smiled at him "nothing" she replied, trying to get off the subject. "Sydney Bristow, super agent not think about anything?" she laughed, "Super agent?" "Yeah, you should ask them to add it to your title" he said "Can you imagine that on my badge? Somehow, I don't think they'd take me very seriously." "No?" he said sarcastically.
Sydney could never get used to coming into the bright lights of the APO office from the dimly lit subway station. She could hear the low murmurs of agents talking as she walked in on what was supposed to be her day off. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a true day off.
Ahead of her she saw her sister, Nadia. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she drew closer. "I got a phone call, said it was urgent" Sydney nodded "me too." She said. They walked into the briefing room together and sat down in front of the many T.V. like screens.
Then, one of the men Sydney most despised walked in. She hated that he had been given this position, hated that the CIA could just forget all of the terrible things he had done, agents he'd killed, and lives he destroyed. How the CIA could let a man like Arvin Sloane run one of its offices was beyond her comprehension. Yet, there he was standing in front of her, giving her orders and acting as though he had never done anything wrong in his life.
"This morning," he began "this office received information that suggests a known terrorist is looking to gain access to a weapon" This was nothing special to any of the agents in the room so Nadia asked "what kind of weapon?" Sloane pointed to an image that had just appeared on nearly all of the screens. What was shown was a huge structure that would rival the size of the Empire State building. It looked slightly worn but no less dangerous.
"This," said Sloane "is the V2930 more commonly referred to as levágás." The agents looked at each other. "What does it do?" asked Vaughn who was sitting in a near by chair. The image on the screen vanished and was replaced by one of chaos. There were bodies burnt beyond recognition, limbs misshapen bent and torn on the sidewalk, and people walking around, dazed and confused blood covering their entire bodies.
"This is only a taste of what levágás can do." said Sloane "In truth; the CIA has no idea the full potential of this weapon. Sufficed to say that it is your job, all of you, to find this weapon and disable it."
Levágás is Hungarian for Slaughter