Disclaimer: I do not claim Alias in any shape or form.

A/N: Yay! An update.

Chapter 6-Persuasive Methods

---Weiss's POV---

"I'm just asking if we should go to Sydney. Confront her." I clarified in tone that hinted at anger and impatience.

"I have known Sydney for several more years than you have. She was my partner and trusted friend for many of those years. She will react differently depending on the situation. Which means that we should wait until we have more information before we confront her about this." He insisted.

"You think you know what's best for her? What if she doesn't have enough time for us t 'get more information?' What bout then?" I whispered angrily.

"Did you even consider the fact that us dashing in might put her in more danger?"

"Well I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." I stared him down. "We're not finding much relevant information on this case. Chances are that Sloane'll put this on this on the backburn-"

"Yet another crucial mistake. This has potential connections to Rambaldi. Sloane would never put it on the backburner." Dixon walked over to the door and opened it quite unceremoniously. "I'll talk to you in the morning on our way back to APO."

"Good night, Dixon." I spoke with faux cheerfulness.

---Sloane's POV---

"Found it, sir!" a new recruit chirped happily as he rushed over to show off his findings.

"What exactly did you find?" I grabbed the printout right out of his hands.

I could feel him watching me as I assessed his work.

"And you discovered this on your own?" I questioned him.

"Well, yes." He beamed.

I gave him an unhappy smile as I pondered why Marshall hadn't found it before him. Maybe, this recruit was simply living up to his reputation.

"I'll get back to you with my comments." I informed him, walking away with the printout.

!!!An Unknown Amount of Days Later!!!

---Sydney's POV---

The simple attempt of lifting up my eyelids proved to be very exhausting. So, instead, I gave into the blissful feeling that was sure to accompany sleep. However, the sounds of heels clicking on the hard floor were preventing me from doing just that. In painfully slow motions, I dragged open my eyes and attempted to wipe the sleep away from my face. Instead, I found resistance tugging at my wrists whenever I tried to move them. That's when I took a good look around at the room I was in.

The walls were painstaking plain white with a black and white tiled floor. Attached to the walls were perfectly shaped half-spheres. The ceiling was bathed in a bright light that hid the true design of it. The room was about a quarter of the size of a small-sized house and no doors could be seen in plain sight. The metal handcuffs were of a different design- the less popular. Used by only special cops and a few select agencies. The handcuffs were connected to each other without a small chain that allowed those skilled enough to be able to maneuver their way out. The area between the two metal cuffs was cemented into the ground.

Because I was lying on the ground I spotted their shoes first. Not their-her, there was no mistaking the sex of the other occupant of the room with those shoes. The closer she got to me, the more I had to turn my head to see her face. Her eyes were hidden behind big, dark, designer sunglasses; her brown hair thrown up in a messy ponytail. She wore a very feminine suit- complete with a knee-length black skirt.

Her face seemed friendly- completely opposite from what her body language was displaying. She flung the glasses off her head and pocketed them in her jacket's breast pocket.

"You again." She spat out, crouching down so she could talk to me easier. "Sydney fucking Bristow."

I gather up all my strength to utter out these words, "Should I know you?"

I know where I am, without a doubt. I am in the place you go to when you piss him off. But I'm lucky, I was a favorite of his. Things will not be as harsh as possible. It could be worst, I know what I have done. I have brought the possibility of the CIA uncovering them in an attempt to solve this murder. This murder in which they should never have stuck their noses in in the first place. I messed up.

"It matters not. Do you know why you fucked up?" She demanded to know.

"Perfection." I whispered.

"The thing with this kind of perfection is that it has it's flaws. You forgot to include that. What kind of run-of-the-mill murderer kills so flawlessly? Our mole tells us that they are rerouting all energy into this case. Not to mention that fact that Rambaldi, himself, spoke of this happening. They'll never got off our ass." She stared into my eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Guess you're not so great after all."

I shivered slightly- the tile was cold and I had no cover.

"He still thinks that there might be some use for you. So you're still alive. When you're ready to come back to him- to beg for his forgiveness on your hands and knees, we'll talk."

My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I was hungry. When was the last time that I had eaten?

The lady ignored this and after a beeping sound went off and started to walk away without waiting for my confirmation that I understood.

"For your sake," the woman turned around to face me, "I hope you decide to come back to him sooner rather than later. The longer I have to deal with you in my life, the worse it will be for you."

"Well I guess I should start up on a plan to get out of these really soon, now shouldn't I?" I stared her down.

I watched her tilt her head to the side as if thinking about something. "He's worried about you. Starting this evening, he'll send someone to give you your pills."

I couldn't remember who she was but the image of her talking with a man named Isaac about my medication briefly popped into my head.

My medication. The medication I had been taking for quite sometime.

---Sark's POV---

I stared at the monitor back in the safe house intently. I had left the hotel a few days ago to begin tracking Sydney via the device I had planted. The only thing other than confusion and suspicion that had entered my veins was surprise. Surprised as I registered to whom the voice of the woman talking to Sydney belonged to- Vanessa.

I picked up my cell and punched a number on speed dial. "Hello, Irina. There is no doubt in my mind as of this moment what it is that we are dealing with here."

---Weiss's POV---

We still hadn't found her. It had been days but still- she was gone without a trace. Her room had been cleared out. Everything had been taken and then all fingerprints had been wiped clean. Even Sydney's prints failed to show up anywhere in the room. Whoever had done this had created a standard loop so that the security camera did not catch anything on tape.

Something in my gut was telling me that whoever had kidnapped Sydney had not wanted anybody to find out any real information about that murder. Thus, they took out the last significant piece to the puzzle. Without Sydney we could only make guesses as to what was going on.

I opened the door and stepped inside. I took a seat in the conference room before I stole a glance at the chart. On the chart was everything that we knew about the murder and Sydney's disappearance. I wondered, with the email and everything that had happened, if Sloane had connected all the dots. But he as of yet to get back to me on that. That of which, I was glad.

---Vanessa's POV---

I sat down at the circular table in between Manuel and Oscar. Across from me sat Isaac. His face impassive and cold stared right back at me.

"What did she say?" He demanded.

"Nothing that we didn't already expect her to." I smiled.

"She doesn't remember who Daniel was?" she probed.

"She didn't mention him." I responded.

"Why didn't you ask about him?" he whispered angrily.

"You interrupted my nice little conversation." I snapped.

"Try again tomorrow. Afterwards, we go to more persuasive methods." He smiled, turning to look at Manuel and Oscar.

A/N: Review, please. It makes me write faster.