1Vaughn had a million questions running through his mind, most of them involving Sydney in some way, but his mind just couldn't focus. Although he had been unconscious for an unknown period of time, being shot with adrenaline did amazing things to a person. It was like an extreme case of over excitement. Despite that, Vaughn managed to focus his eyes, and his brain somewhat, and realized that the room he was in was a morgue, and that the figure standing over him was Jack Bristow. And when you found yourself alone with Jack - especially in a morgue with Jack - you knew some deep shit had just gone down.

"Mr. Bristow . . . where's Sydney? What happened to me? Why are you here?"

"So many questions Agent Vaughn, so little time." Jack was speaking in a tone Vaughn had never heard before . . . could that be anxiety Vaughn heard in his voice? "We need to get a move on, so I'll keep this as brief as possible: alive, you were a danger to Sydney and your baby; dead, you're well . . . dead. Simple enough?"

Vaughn was utterly confused. "Dead? What do you mean 'dead?' And why did you say alive in the past tense? Oh my god . . . you went through with it, didn't you? You faked my death! Unbelievable! I can't believe you would - okay I believe you would do this to me, but Sydney can't have been in on this."

"Impressive, Agent Vaughn. That only took you about . . . 7 seconds to figure out. Better than what I was expecting."

"Listen here, you bastard. My name is Michael Vaughn, and considering the fact that you were going to be my father in-law up until Sydney and I caught hit by a fucking car, you can either call me Vaughn or Michael. Drop the 'Agent' bullshit. I know you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you, but we both love Sydney a great deal and care about her safety. So let's just try and put our differences aside and concentrate on the fact that you faked my FUCKING DEATH without my consent."

By the time Vaughn was finished, he was breathing heavily, and a deep pain had risen inside his chest. The realization of the fact that he was literally dead to the world kind of made him forget about the 11 or so bullets he had taken to the chest earlier. Mind you, if he had actually just called Jack Bristow a bastard, he might not live long enough to feel the full extent of his injuries. Jack opened his mouth to speak, and although Vaughn was expecting the wrath of Satan, he was surprised at Jack's response.

"Agent Vaughn . . . Vaughn . . . what you did right there took guts. You're right, I don't particularly like you, because I thought you to be a coward and I never felt you were good enough for my daughter. Well, if Sydney loves you, that's fine, and from what I just heard, maybe you aren't a coward after all."

Vaughn smiled smugly, but stopped when he noticed the way Jack was looking at him.

"Now, Vaughn, we must leave - and quickly. We don't have much time to spare, and since I have a lot to tell you, it's best that we do it en route to our destination."

Vaughn nodded and jumped off the gurney. The adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins helped lessen the pain from his wounds, but didn't stop the embarrassment he felt after realizing he was nude . . . in front of Jack Bristow.

"Cold in here, Vaughn? Or is it just you?" It was Jack's turn to smile smugly.

Vaughn quickly grabbed a sheet and covered his lower section. The fact that the sheet he grabbed was clear just added insult to injury. He muttered a curse, and made sure that the second time, he grabbed a cotton sheet - a black cotton sheet.

He followed Jack through the maze of hallways in the morgue, until they finally reached an exit door. Once outside, they ran to Jack's awaiting black Land Rover, a change from his usual navy blue sedan.

"There's a change of clothes waiting for you in the passenger seat. There's a duffle bag with some more things in the trunk. Sydney packed it for you."

"Sydney? Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait . . . you mean to tell me Sydney was in on this?" Vaughn said while putting on his pants.

"Yes. She was torn about leaving you, but I believe she made the right decision. And she believes she made the right decision. You, Vaughn, are the only one who disagrees with what we did."

"How many people know that my . . . death . . . was a fake out?"

"Just you, Sydney and I. We couldn't risk telling anyone else at APO. Word that you were alive might have somehow leaked out, and we'd be right back where we started."

Vaughn finished putting his clothes on, and Jack started the large SUV. Vaughn got in, and Jack took off. They flew out of the parking lot, and instead of taking the highway, Jack turned onto a dirt road and headed off into the desert.

"Jack, where are we going? What's going on? It would be helpful if I were in on this."

"I'm taking you to the desert. There, I will let you out and you will walk 2 miles to a small, seemingly out of commission airstrip. You are to go to the front desk of the first building you see. Look for a keypad. Type in the code 4747-793, and when you hear a tone, say the word 'robin.' If you do all this correctly, a short, Mexican man will greet you. In turn, you will give him this - "

Jack produced a passport and several bills from his jacket pocket. Vaughn opened the passport, and looked at it. It was obviously not a government-issued passport, but the work on it was incredibly good. The untrained eye would never be able to detect it was a forgery, and Vaughn assumed that was the point.

"Your new name, as you can see, is Etienne DuPuis, a French banking specialist. You have just finished business with a high-profile client, and wished to escape the country without attention. I doubt Miguel will ask your back story, but just in case."

"And what if I refuse?" Although Jack snorted, Vaughn stared at him seriously. Jack looked at Vaughn, realizing he was not kidding, and gave him a choice.

"Vaughn, apparently you are not taking this seriously, so I'm giving you an ultimatum. Either you choose the foolish route, and I turn around and drive you back home to Sydney. You two live out a happy life, until, that is, you are found, and killed. And not only will you be killed, but Sydney and your child will be too. Or the other choice, which is although you do not see Sydney for an undetermined amount of time, you will at least live in solitude knowing that she and your baby are safe. So what will it be Vaughn? Choice one, or choice two?"

Vaughn just stared at the floor of the car. The decision was obvious, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Apparently, Jack was able to tell what he was thinking.

"I'm assuming from your silence and that look in your eyes that you chose the latter. I assure you, it is the right choice Vaughn."

"Then why doesn't it feel right? Why does it feel like I'm making a horrid mistake that I'm going to regret as soon as I leave this vehicle."

"Sometimes, we all have to make a choice between what is easy and what is right."

They sat in silence for the rest of the trip, and after what seemed like ages, the vehicle finally came to a halt.

"Time to go Vaughn . . . or should I call you Etienne?"

Vaughn did not acknowledge Jack. Instead, he walked to the back of the SUV, opened the trunk and grabbed the black duffel bag. He opened it to find clothes, a gun, a LOT of money and his favourite picture of Sydney and he together. She said she hated because she was smiling like a "goof" but Vaughn loved it. He said it was her natural smile and it was beautiful. Just looking at it made him miss her already. Jack came around to the back and handed Vaughn something.

"Plane tickets? The pilot doesn't know where he's going?"

"Oh, he knows where he's going, but that's not where you're going," Jack said cryptically. "He's dropping you off in Guadalajara. From there, you can go to anyone of those 12 destinations. But don't tell me where. Don't tell anyone where. Just get on the plane and go where you want to go. You're on your own once you get there."

"And if the money runs out?"

"The money won't run out. In your bag, there's information about an offshore account - your offshore account. Every month, $10 000 will be wire-transferred there. I will make sure it is untraceable, and you can withdraw however much you need whenever you need it."

"Okay then. Sounds like I'm pretty much set. Am I good to go?"

"Just one more thing," Jack said, his tone becoming menacing. "Do not pursue the Prophet 5 lead. Keep a low profile and be inconspicuous. I have people everywhere. I will know your actions if or when you do something stupid. Got it?"

"Yessir," Vaughn said with all seriousness. He turned to walk away from Jack, when suddenly he was called back. "What is it?"

Jack pulled something out of his overcoat. He handed it to Vaughn. "Sydney wanted me to give this to you. I don't know what it is, she told me not to read it. I assume it's something . . . personal."

Vaughn nodded and took the envelope. He shook Jack's hand, thanked him, and walked away into the all-engulfing darkness, not knowing if he would ever see Sydney again.