Part Eleven – Fearless
Is there anything that I need to say
That hasn't been said before
I have been polite for too long
Why should I be anymore
Better now than never, better loud than clever
Better just to play the fool
It's times like this
When you just close your eyes and kiss
Cause everything after this
Is just bullshit and being cruel
So hold me up, I'm going out
And don't wait up, I won't be coming home
"Look at me", he demanded, as the man struggled against the firm grip of Sark's hand to keep his head positioned off to the side.
Sark laughed, both because of his command, and the man's futile efforts to throw him off.
"Oh, I'm sorry, you can't", he commented amusedly.
And at that, he ripped off the duct tape that had previously covered the man's eyes, and asked sarcastically, "That better?"
Sark dipped his head then, looking down at the man with dark eyes and a menacing smile, "What do you think your life is worth to your brother?"
And as if on cue, Sark's phone began ringing from its place on the steel table beside him.
"Shall we find out?" he asked him then mockingly, reaching over and flipping open the phone.
"Boris!" Sark's clipped British accent sounded strange when it was twinged with amusement; it made him seem more volatile, more out-of-control, more primitive and predatory – and that could never be good.
"What do you want, Sark?" the Russian's pronounced English rang through the other end immediately.
"Hmm", the blonde replied, pretending to ponder on it for a moment, "Now that is a good question."
"What do I want?" Sark repeated, and he continued to pace round the chair, occasionally allowing his fingers to crawl across the man's upper torso and over his shoulders, purely for the sake of making him further 'on-edge'.
If you lay me down in concrete fields
Will I dream of grass and opera
This is the sound and how it feels
To be dead
"But what I really want … well why don't we ask Sergei about that?" Sark told him, and held out the phone to the man tied to the seat before him.
"Your brother wishes to speak to you", he told the man in front of him, holding out the phone towards him.
And suddenly, in one swift movement, Sark had picked up the shotgun, which had been leaning against the trolley beside him, and shot off Sergei's hand.
The Russian's screams reverberated off the walls as he struggled within his confines and tried desperately to free himself, as he began clutching wildly for his arm which was rapidly spurting blood, and staining both he and the chair a deep, slippery crimson.
"I'm going to take your family apart, piece by piece, you understand me, Boris?" Sark chillingly told the man on the other end.
"Piece by piece", Sark repeated, "Do you understand me?"
As Sergei lay unconscious, and silence surrounded him, his voice turned even colder as he gritted out, "I want you!"
Sark wasn't for being gentle; remembering the state Avalon had been left in, blood red spreading across her chest, the colour fading suddenly from her face, her lips turning a disturbing shade of blue, her last words those of comfort to him, her body suddenly going limp in his arms … yes, payback was a bitch.
And that was why he raised the weapon again, reloaded two new cartridges, and fired them into Sergei Dakori's chest. It would serve as a message to his brother; Sark wanted him.
One did not fuck with Julian Sark and get away lightly.
He had been one of those responsible for Avalon's death; he would be dead before sunrise.
In the end there will be fire and brimstone
And no one will be there to answer the telephone
You are the only one I'll miss
You are the only answer at a time like this
She is the trick of my trade
She is the thing that can't be made
She is gold and nothing less
And she is fearless
So hold me up, we're going out
And don't wait up, we won't be coming home
The next day and the 'elite' members of APO were all seated round the 'table' once more, awaiting word from Jack and Sloane, when the two men stepped into the room.
"Apparently some people thought Avalon to be part of Rambladi's prophesy – they believed her to be the child he spoke of; that the Chosen One would carry", Jack started speaking almost 'straight-off'
"But she's not yours … is she Syd?" Vaughn said suddenly, seemingly horrified at the idea, and turning his head to face the woman in question.
"Please", Mars scoffed, immediately bringing all their attention to him, as he stood by the door, leaning casually against the glass.
"I know Jack hasn't exactly been known for his great parenting skills at times, but I think even he would have noticed if his daughter was walking around with a huge belly an a baby about to pop out of her at any moment, don't you?"
Jack narrowed his eyes at Mars for a moment, commenting, "So eloquently put, Mars."
The younger man merely flashed him a smile, before turning towards the others and saying, "Avalon was eight, Mr Vaughn. That means Sydney would've had to have been pregnant while she was working with SD-6 – am I correct?"
And he glanced across at Sydney, who nodded simply, "Therefore in answer your question – no, Avalon was not Sydney's child."
"Then why did they think that she was part of the prophecy?" Vaughn questioned.
"Because it's Rambaldi!" Sydney spat, "Why do you think? Everyone in espionage is supposed to be related to him and his work one way or another these days, why should Sark's daughter be any different?"
"That's seems to be the reasoning behind it, Sydney", Sloane's voice joined them, "Sark's daughter wasn't, in fact, associated with the Chosen One. Despite this, she was still believed to play a role in the Prophesy, but what that part was is unclear at this moment."
"What we do know, however", Sloane continued, "Is that Sark is targeting anyone he believes to be involved in his daughter's death, and he is showing no mercy in his acts. We received word this morning that both Dmitri Vasilov – an ex-KGB agent – and Samuel Winderstone – a former MI5 informant – are dead. Photos sent to us, confirmed that their deaths were most likely by Sark."
And at that two images were projected onto the screens.
There was no doubt in any of the minds of those present that these men had suffered – but did they deserve to endure it? Sark certainly thought so, and right now, that was all that separated the living from the dead.
You hold it in your hand "So, what?" Vaughn voiced after a moment, "Sark's going around killing all these people, and we're … just supposed to let him?"
You keep it in your heart
You hide it in your head
And you use it when you have to
She is the trick of my trade
These are the things that can't be made
Stay yourself and nothing less
Stay fearless
"They're not exactly nice people he's doing away with, Mr Vaughn", Mars' answered.
"I sincerely doubt you'll miss them that much, and I would've thought you'd have been glad of his … help", he ended with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Sark's turned vigilante on us, and you expect us to be … grateful?" Vaughn scoffed.
"He's not a vigilante", Mars replied simply, "A vigilante is just a man, lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed or locked up. That's not Sark."
Vaughn eyed the Brit carefully then, while he continued, "If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if you can't be stopped; then you turn into something else entirely."
"Which is?" Vaughn asked, his tone somewhat mocking – something Mars didn't like one bit, not one bit at all.
And a cold smile swept across his features then, as he informed the Agent, "Legend, Mr Vaughn. Which is exactly what Sark has become."
"You would do well to watch your backs", Mars called back to them, as he started to walk towards the door, "After all, legends can only be told by those who live to tell the tale."
Song: 'Fearless' by Matthew Good Band
Quotes: "A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed or locked up. That's not Sark." "If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if you can't be stopped; then you turn into something else entirely." "Which is?" "Legend, Mr Vaughn." – Slightly altered version from Batman Begins
Sorry for the major wait - truly!
I'll try post the last three parts within the next couple of days, and then hopefully the start of the sequel
So, please let me know what you thought, because comments are very much appreciated!
Thanks
Steph
xxx
:D
