** I am in no way associated with Alias. The usual disclaimers apply.

PART ONE

Sydney pressed her hands firmly over Sark's wound, deep crimson blood teaming about her fingers and coagulating in small pools on the pure white sand where he lay.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sydney asked without looking up at him.

Sark thought he heard traces of concern in her voice.

"Why, you worried I won't make it?" He smirked confidently through his pain.

"Yeah, you're the only one who knows how to operate the submarine…"

Sark nodded slowly, but the smirk remained planted on his youthful face. He could feel himself fading slowly into the sand, the edges of his being blurring into the peaceful island scenery. Ironic that he'd meet his end here, in such a passive, serene setting, with Sydney Bristow hovering concernedly and almost confusingly close above him. He chuckled slightly as his sharp blue eyes closed softly, laughing at his death, calm and gentle, and such a paradox to the way he had lived.

Previously….

LOS ANGELES

Sunlight filtered unevenly into the office where they sat silently, staring anywhere but at each other. Sydney's gaze kept flickering back to Vaughn's wedding ring. Almost tormenting, a beam of perfect, cylindrical light percolated through the blinds and seemed to hit the gold band conspicuously. Sydney narrowed her eyes. Even nature was conspiring against her.

The uncomfortable silence was broken as Agent Weiss entered the room, shrugging as if he could unconsciously feel the weight of the tension building in the room.

Agent Weiss directed his comments to Sydney, short and abrupt, but underlying with compassion. "Has Vaughn filled you in on the details?"

Sydney nodded at him, smiling slightly.

"Alright then, we move out in an hour…"

Sydney went to say something, but seemed to hesitate. Knowingly, Weiss turned back to her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… it's just… how can we rely on this intelligence? Vaughn said Moore was a free agent, working for anyone and everyone…"

Weiss glanced at Vaughn nervously. "Vaughn and Moore have a… history… working together. She trusts him, he trusts her…"

Sydney sensed Weiss' discomfort with the subject and looked to Vaughn for validation.

"Moore and I have an understanding… if she can benefit from working with us than she will." Vaughn looked up at Sydney from beneath dark lashes, guilt reflected in his voice and eyes.

"She…?" Syd turned from Vaughn and looked questioningly at Weiss, surprised that Vaughn hadn't mentioned Moore's gender.

Weiss handed a file to Syd. "Tarra Moore, you'll rendezvous with her in the air…"

***

"The last time I had peanuts I near-choked on one, seriously"

Sydney turned to the woman sitting beside her and gave a weak smile. She hated airplane small talk, and she was in no mood today to deal with her neighbor's near-death experiences, or anything else for that matter. She scanned the airplane carefully, looking for signals that would reveal Tarra Moore to her. Tarra Moore, what kind of a name was that anyway? Sounded like a prostitute. Sydney creased her forehead in frustration, tucking a stray piece of hair safely behind her ears.

"You know sugar, you shouldn't frown - it'll give you wrinkles"

Syd turned back to her neighbor, feigning a smile. The woman smiled back warmly, her shadowy brown eyes flashing mischievously and her large, dark-red lips twitching into a smirk. Her skin was smooth and golden, hinting at a slightly Mediterranean lineage, although her accent was clearly lower-class New Jersey. Long chocolate-brown hair was braided neatly down her back, and, for a moment, Sydney thought she looked a lot like a younger version of her mother. Sydney's mouth started to open, but the woman next to her flung out a hand.

"Tarra Moore, freelance espionage agent"

Sydney stared open-mouthed for a few seconds, before extending her own hand.

"Sydney Bristow, former CIA agent, uncertain of my current status"

Moore grinned at Sydney, a sly smile that aged her young face. "The only certainty in life is death, even then I'm sure the gods negotiate... So, have you been briefed on our target?"

Sydney smiled back, a somewhat more sincere smile than the last one. "Bruno Rufuso, an Alliance recruiter... should be interesting"

"Our aim here is to find out who the mole is within the CIA, who Rufuso recruited to work against yas". Moore flipped her eyebrows up enthusiastically.

Sydney smiled again as she studied Moore more closely. The woman before her appeared young in both appearance and manner, she was probably no older than 25 years of age, and yet her eyes were so archaic, as if she had seen the world pass through all the ages and then some.

Moore's voice broke Sydney's train of thought. "So, I hear Mike got married, what's the wife like?"

Sydney looked to the ground, studying the detail of the carpet carefully and ignoring the intimate way in which Moore referred to Vaughn. When she finally spoke her voice was no more than a whisper. "I wouldn't know…"

***

Sark buttoned his suit languidly and methodically. Smoothing the dark fabric against his chest and straightening his tie, he studied his reflection with the same level of disinterest he afforded everything else.

He turned as one of his soldiers entered the luxurious hotel room where he had set up a base camp. "Sir, we have confirmation that Rufuso will be in location near the Tasman Sea for a few days…"

"That old man does love his yacht". Sark smirked. "Tell the lads we're going to Australia…"

TO BE CONTINUED…