If and When (Chapter 12)
An Alias Fan Fiction by Penni Lane
A/N: Let me just say that my creativity has been really slow on everything lately, so it's been taking me a while to get chapters up. That and it's the end of the semester, so I've had studying to do and papers to write and packing to…pack…
Anywho…enjoy! Review!
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Sydney Bristow watched as her mother paced the floor of the warehouse in which they were waiting for Alexei Myshkin. The mission was simple enough on paper: delay Myskin while the security was disabled, get in, get all of his information, get Glasgow, get out. Syd sighed inwardly. She had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. Something was going to happen. Irina stopped suddenly and looked over at her daughter.
"I don't like this."
"You too?"
"Myshkin's never late. Not unless something's happened."
At that moment, the doors slid open, letting in the sunlight. Irina and Sydney quinted against the brightness at the figure that was approaching. He had dark hair to his shoulders and a day's worth of stubble growth on his face. He strode towards the older woman and bowed his head slightly.
"Irina. I was surprised to hear from you."
"Rumors of my retirement were greatly exaggerated."
"So I see." He turned towards the other woman. "And who is this lovely creature?"
Derevko raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I told you I was bringing my daughter. Myshkin, this is Sydney Bristow. Sydney, this is Alexei Myshkin."
"You look like your mother," he commented, "but I'm sure you've been told this."
"Too many times to remember," Sydney replied, narrowing her eyes at him.
Myshkin shrugged. "You have the disk? I didn't come here to waste my time."
Irina took a small pouch out of her jacket pocket and handed it to him. "The passwords have been unlocked. The data is decoded."
~And the CIA has a copy,~ Sydney reminded herself.
He held the clear disk up to the light, examining it.
"It's clean."
"You can't blame me for being careful, Irina. Not in our business." He pocketed it. "Won't you come back to the house? We have so much to catch up on. My wife can make some tea…"
"Your wife? I thought that ended a long time ago, when she found out about your affiliations."
"You're right," he smirked, "but that's been taken care of."
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"Security disabled. Get your team into position." The radio crackled.
Michael Vaughn waved his arm, motioning to his fellow agents. They quietly slid down their ropes to the lawn in front of the estate and made their way to the door.
"Boy Scout ready."
Static. Then a definite "Go."
One of the agents kicked the door in, and the team broke ranks, spreading to different parts of the house. Vaughn headed up the stairs, checking the rooms for his cousin. What he found was Sark.
"Freeze, you son of a bitch."
Sark merely shot one of his cocky grins and dove behind a desk, pulling his gun out. The two exchanged shots back and forth for only a few minutes. Vaughn felt his heart pounding against his chest. The adrenaline rush was incredible. He heard shooting behind him and turned to look. That was when his adversary took action. He felt the bullet tear through his arm. The force of it knocked him against the wall. Michael clutched his wound and fumbled with his radio to call for back-up. Sark slipped into the hallway. The sound of the shooting grew nearer, and he ducked back into the room.
"Damn."
"What's wrong? One of your plans go south?"
Sark glared at him, reloading his weapon. "Myshkin. He's here."
"What?"
"Looks like both of our plans have gone south."
Both doors to the room opened. Tess ran in from one side. She saw her cousin and gasped. She was running over to him when Sark grabbed her, holding her infront of him. Myshkin had come through the other door.
"Sark!" He roared. "You son of a bitch! You ruined everything!" A bullet flew past.
"Careful, Alexei. You might accidentally shoot your lovely wife."
"Do you think I give a damn? Now? After you've given her the antidote?"
Another shot rang out, catching Tess in the upper left chest. She stared ahead, astonished. Not breathing. She then went limp. Sark let go and ran. Myshkin fired again, catching Sark in the side of his back. He fell.
Myshkin took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. He turned to Vaughn. "Michael. So nice to see you. It's been years."
"Go to hell, you piece of shit."
"Oh, but it would be so lonely there. Won't you join me?" He raised the gun and aimed between the eyes of the injured man.
A shot rang out.
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