Sydney had lost track of where she was ten minutes ago. They could be circling back to her room and she'd never know. She didn't dare look around too much, either, with four gunmen at her back and four more in front of her. If she wanted to survive this place, she had to make herself valuable and avoid irritating her guards too much. She'd wait for her chance and then make a break for it, but right now she had to appear submissive.
She kept her head down, darting glances through her peripheral vision. The walls were the same stark white that her room had been, while the floor seemed to be some sort of gray-brown tile. Metal pipes and canisters lined the corridors. Passages twisted off into darkness along every few feet of wall, with guards stationed at every corner. Sydney's heart sank. This would be nearly impossible to escape.
"In here," one of the men up ahead of her said gruffly. He indicated a metal door to their right. Sydney opened it cautiously, aware of the man's piercing gaze on her. As soon as she moved into the room, two guards seized her arms. She yelped in outrage, stifling her instinctive violent reaction, but allowed them to drag her over to a wide desk in the middle of the room. As she seethed silently, the guards flung her into a hard wooden chair, where she pulled her arms out of their grasp and glared up at them furiously.
Sydney looked around the room quickly, taking a mental inventory of everything in the room and if it could be used if it came down to a fight. She couldn't count on the desk to be light enough to topple over, but her chair could definitely be used as a shield or, if she smashed it, as a weapon. The file cabinet also looked too heavy to use. Four small pictures hanging on the wall could come in useful, however . . .
She whirled around as the door opened to admit a white-haired man who looked to be in his fifties. He didn't have the cruel gleam to his eyes that her guards did; still, she watched him warily. Well did she know how deceiving looks could be.
The guards to either side of her moved back deferentially, but Sydney didn't move. She kept her expression neutral and refused to acknowledge his entrance. She hoped she'd judged him correctly. If he took wild offense at her disrespect, she may not live more than a few minutes; if she was right, however, her spirit would only further any negotiations she could make. He appeared merely amused at her restrained defiance and she allowed herself to breathe easier. She hadn't misjudged this time.
The man sat down on the opposite side of the desk from her and folded his hands placidly. "They tell me you work for SD-6," he said, his voice heavily accented. He waited with no trace of impatience for her reply.
Sydney glanced sideways at the guards. "I've never denied it," she said stiffly. "I assume Ana's told you everything, so why am I here?" She managed to keep an edge from creeping into her voice.
"Indeed she has. She wants you dead, as I'm sure you know. I had to pull rank on her to let you come here at all." His casual remark sent ice carving through Sydney's veins, but he appeared not to notice this effect. He cocked his head, again waiting for a reply.
"Thank you, sir," she said coolly, fighting to keep her face as calm as his was.
"You are welcome. Now, I have a deal to make with you. We know you are here to meet with one Olim Idlabmar. From his name, I think I can safely assume that he holds another piece to the Rambaldi puzzle, no?" His teeth flashed white. "Would you care to tell us what exactly this piece is?" He watched her with such a steady gaze that she was sure nothing in her manner escaped him, so she spared no thought before she answered.
"I don't know." When he continued to watch her, she went on hastily, "We deciphered codes with his name and location, but nothing more. And he would say nothing over the phone when we contacted him."
He didn't respond immediately, and she began to worry that her lie was too obvious. Then he said lightly, "For someone loyal to SD-6, you talk very freely."
Sydney did not have to feign the nervousness she displayed, or her bitter tone. "I'm not about to die to keep SD-6's secret," she said. "Especially not after they killed my fiancée. It's not worth it." She dropped her gaze to the titled floor. "I know you'll only keep me alive if I prove my worth." She watched his reaction through her long lashes.
He leaned back, a smile playing around his lips. "Keeping information from us does not prove your worth." He fixed his bright black eyes on her. "Do you take my point?"
Sydney gulped. "Yes, I take your point," she said hoarsely. She took a deep breath. "We believe he has some of Rambaldi's sketches. It's likely they will reveal another clue to the Rambaldi puzzle." She held her breath, waiting to see if he believed her. Sloane had told her that K-Directorate showed no signs of realizing that the Rambaldi journal they possessed was incomplete.
She heard his fingers drum on the desk. "Very well." She still couldn't tell if he believed her or not, but it appeared that he would give her a chance either way. "Here's my proposal."
She kept her head down, darting glances through her peripheral vision. The walls were the same stark white that her room had been, while the floor seemed to be some sort of gray-brown tile. Metal pipes and canisters lined the corridors. Passages twisted off into darkness along every few feet of wall, with guards stationed at every corner. Sydney's heart sank. This would be nearly impossible to escape.
"In here," one of the men up ahead of her said gruffly. He indicated a metal door to their right. Sydney opened it cautiously, aware of the man's piercing gaze on her. As soon as she moved into the room, two guards seized her arms. She yelped in outrage, stifling her instinctive violent reaction, but allowed them to drag her over to a wide desk in the middle of the room. As she seethed silently, the guards flung her into a hard wooden chair, where she pulled her arms out of their grasp and glared up at them furiously.
Sydney looked around the room quickly, taking a mental inventory of everything in the room and if it could be used if it came down to a fight. She couldn't count on the desk to be light enough to topple over, but her chair could definitely be used as a shield or, if she smashed it, as a weapon. The file cabinet also looked too heavy to use. Four small pictures hanging on the wall could come in useful, however . . .
She whirled around as the door opened to admit a white-haired man who looked to be in his fifties. He didn't have the cruel gleam to his eyes that her guards did; still, she watched him warily. Well did she know how deceiving looks could be.
The guards to either side of her moved back deferentially, but Sydney didn't move. She kept her expression neutral and refused to acknowledge his entrance. She hoped she'd judged him correctly. If he took wild offense at her disrespect, she may not live more than a few minutes; if she was right, however, her spirit would only further any negotiations she could make. He appeared merely amused at her restrained defiance and she allowed herself to breathe easier. She hadn't misjudged this time.
The man sat down on the opposite side of the desk from her and folded his hands placidly. "They tell me you work for SD-6," he said, his voice heavily accented. He waited with no trace of impatience for her reply.
Sydney glanced sideways at the guards. "I've never denied it," she said stiffly. "I assume Ana's told you everything, so why am I here?" She managed to keep an edge from creeping into her voice.
"Indeed she has. She wants you dead, as I'm sure you know. I had to pull rank on her to let you come here at all." His casual remark sent ice carving through Sydney's veins, but he appeared not to notice this effect. He cocked his head, again waiting for a reply.
"Thank you, sir," she said coolly, fighting to keep her face as calm as his was.
"You are welcome. Now, I have a deal to make with you. We know you are here to meet with one Olim Idlabmar. From his name, I think I can safely assume that he holds another piece to the Rambaldi puzzle, no?" His teeth flashed white. "Would you care to tell us what exactly this piece is?" He watched her with such a steady gaze that she was sure nothing in her manner escaped him, so she spared no thought before she answered.
"I don't know." When he continued to watch her, she went on hastily, "We deciphered codes with his name and location, but nothing more. And he would say nothing over the phone when we contacted him."
He didn't respond immediately, and she began to worry that her lie was too obvious. Then he said lightly, "For someone loyal to SD-6, you talk very freely."
Sydney did not have to feign the nervousness she displayed, or her bitter tone. "I'm not about to die to keep SD-6's secret," she said. "Especially not after they killed my fiancée. It's not worth it." She dropped her gaze to the titled floor. "I know you'll only keep me alive if I prove my worth." She watched his reaction through her long lashes.
He leaned back, a smile playing around his lips. "Keeping information from us does not prove your worth." He fixed his bright black eyes on her. "Do you take my point?"
Sydney gulped. "Yes, I take your point," she said hoarsely. She took a deep breath. "We believe he has some of Rambaldi's sketches. It's likely they will reveal another clue to the Rambaldi puzzle." She held her breath, waiting to see if he believed her. Sloane had told her that K-Directorate showed no signs of realizing that the Rambaldi journal they possessed was incomplete.
She heard his fingers drum on the desk. "Very well." She still couldn't tell if he believed her or not, but it appeared that he would give her a chance either way. "Here's my proposal."
