Sydney stared, transfixed at the monitor before her. The hand that she
used to clamp her mouth may have stifled her sobs, but it didn't prevent
the tears from flowing freely down her face. The woman on the monitor was
barely moving anymore, though occasionally she moaned. Khasinau stood
above her, wiping his mouth with a bloody knuckle, panting.
"Turn it off," her voice was barely audible as she looked at Sloane. "JUST TURN IT OFF," she screamed at him again, before running out the door, passing a stunned and concerned Dixon. Sloane's gaze followed her exit to the door and watched as she disappeared down the hall, before he turned his gaze to a stunned Jack, sitting quietly. Sloane clicked the remote, turning off the monitor in front of him, snapping Jack's attention away from the monitor, the woman on the screen, to him.
"Jack, go to Sydney," Sloane said. "She need you now. It would be good for both of you."
"I'd like to …" Jack cleared his throat. "I'd like to watch the rest of it, please," he pleaded with Sloane.
Sloane handed the remote to Jack, put his hand on Jack's shoulder to squeeze it gently, before walking out the boardroom. He walked into his office, closing the door behind him, and sat down on his chair. He picked up the phone and began dialing.
"David, it's Arvin. Good job on the tape. Very compelling stuff," he hung up the phone, steepled his hands, and rested his chin on it, smiling with satisfaction.
Sydney barely made it to the washroom, before she heaved the contents in her stomach. She couldn't contain her sobs as she retched what little plane food was left in her stomach, heaving dryly in the end. She flushed the toilet, wiping her mouth, sat back on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
When the sobbing subsided, she got up shakily, to walk out of the stall. She splashed her face with cold water, and used the paper towel to pat her face dry. She drew in a shaky breath and exhaled out. Her reflection on the mirror had blood shot eyes and a red nose. She stood there, staring at her image, drawing in breath after breath, hands clenched tightly on the sink.
Pull yourself together Sydney….
The knock on the door , and Dixon's concerned voice came through the partially opened door. Drawing in one long deep breath, she walked out the door. Dixon was waiting on the outside, pacing nervously, concern etched all over his face.
"Syd, are you ok? I just heard," Dixon spoke first.
Sydney's eyes filled with tears again, and she swiped at it angrily, nodding tremulously.
" Can you tell Sloane that I took off. I need sometime," she got out through tears.
"He asked me to make sure you went home, Syd. He's worried about you. So am I," Dixon said. "He wanted you and your father to take a few days off. Jack left a few minutes ago, kiddo," Dixon smiled gently. "You two should be together."
Sydney nodded her head slightly, and took a deep breath in. She walked to her cubicle to collect her things, Dixon behind her. She started to throw things in her purse, pausing briefly at her cellphone.
"Call him, Syd. And, go to be with him," Dixon urged her gently. Sydney whipped her head around at Dixon. "Your father would really appreciate that."
1 He was talking about Dad… Not Vaughn…
"And, when you get back, we're taking the SOB down," Dixon stated firmly.
Vaughn walked to his office, balancing his briefcase in one hand, coffee in the other, and his coat slung over one arm. He smiled slightly to himself, remembering the hockey game the day before. Haladki had no idea what he'd bargained for. He made a mental note to put in a request for a raise for his assistant, Jeannie.
He chuckled to himself as he dropped the briefcase on his desk, and draped the coat over the back of his chair. Haladki's expression when he realized that he'd been set up for was priceless. The weasel had tried to sit out the game at that point. Driscoll had been smooth, baiting him back to the ice for more punishment. Both Driscoll and Weiss made sure that Haladki had the puck most of the time, with Vaughn covering him. It had been sweet to mush his face in to the Plexiglas, over and over.
"Feel better?" Weiss asked, walking into his office. "Here's the transcripts from last week for Sloane's house. Not much going on since he was away. One interesting call a couple of days ago about some tape though," Weiss filled in taking a bite out of his croissant.
"What tape?" Vaughn asked, accepting the transcripts and reading the highlighted portions himself.
"Don't know. He wanted a tape doctored. Doesn't go into specific. Hey, maybe you can ask Jack. He's with Barnett."
"Jack's with Barnett. Why?"
"Ask Crechtmer. He arranged it," Weiss shrugged as he walked out the door.
Sydney walked into her living room, tossing her things on the couch, before collapsing on it. She had tried her father's phone a few times, but she kept getting his machine. She had finally left a message to call her back.
She debated calling Vaughn. Her first instinct, as always, was to run to her handler, her confidant. But this time, she didn't know how she could. How could she talk to him about all the pain of seeing her mother being broken down, when it was she who was responsible for his fathers death? He didn't even know that she had concluded that she was alive, unless her father had said something, which she doubted.
She cried harder as the images of her mother begging to let her live with her family filtered into her mind. She had cared for them. She wasn't the cruel and calculating woman Sydney had thought she was. This job, this business of espionage, had cost her family everything, taken away more people from their lives.
The sound of footsteps brought her head up, wiping away the tears. She turned around to see Will, approaching hesitantly, intently.
"Your door was open. I figured you were home," he smiled sheepishly. He frowned noticing the red eyes and the other evidence that she'd been crying.
"Syd, are you ok?" he asked gently.
"Yeah, yeah…." Sydney smiled at him bravely. "Just thought of Danny.. and just couldn't stop, you know.."
Will was strangely quiet and thoughtful. He kept his gaze on her, studying her face intently.
"If I said SD-6, that would mean something to you, wouldn't it?" he asked in a very low voice. Sydney's eyes widened at the mention of SD-6. "We, Francie and I, found this ticket stub…..it said Prague.." Will continued.
"You have to stop talking now Will," Sydney ordered authoritatively.
"No, Syd. I think you should tell me what's going on," he continued on stubbornly.
Sydney closed the distance between them quickly, covering his mouth with one hand, and wrapping her other behind his head. She mouthed to him, not here.
Before Will could do anything, the phone began ringing. Both Will and Sydney looked at each other in alarm. She removed her hands and made her way to the phone, picking it up.
"Joey's pizza," the voice on the other end said. Sydney breathed out, automatically responding back to the call, and hung up the phone.
She picked up her purse, tilted her towards the door to Will. She walked out first, scanning both sides, then locking the door after Will had come outside.
"Where are we going?" Will asked.
"Somewhere we can talk," Sydney replied.
"Turn it off," her voice was barely audible as she looked at Sloane. "JUST TURN IT OFF," she screamed at him again, before running out the door, passing a stunned and concerned Dixon. Sloane's gaze followed her exit to the door and watched as she disappeared down the hall, before he turned his gaze to a stunned Jack, sitting quietly. Sloane clicked the remote, turning off the monitor in front of him, snapping Jack's attention away from the monitor, the woman on the screen, to him.
"Jack, go to Sydney," Sloane said. "She need you now. It would be good for both of you."
"I'd like to …" Jack cleared his throat. "I'd like to watch the rest of it, please," he pleaded with Sloane.
Sloane handed the remote to Jack, put his hand on Jack's shoulder to squeeze it gently, before walking out the boardroom. He walked into his office, closing the door behind him, and sat down on his chair. He picked up the phone and began dialing.
"David, it's Arvin. Good job on the tape. Very compelling stuff," he hung up the phone, steepled his hands, and rested his chin on it, smiling with satisfaction.
Sydney barely made it to the washroom, before she heaved the contents in her stomach. She couldn't contain her sobs as she retched what little plane food was left in her stomach, heaving dryly in the end. She flushed the toilet, wiping her mouth, sat back on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
When the sobbing subsided, she got up shakily, to walk out of the stall. She splashed her face with cold water, and used the paper towel to pat her face dry. She drew in a shaky breath and exhaled out. Her reflection on the mirror had blood shot eyes and a red nose. She stood there, staring at her image, drawing in breath after breath, hands clenched tightly on the sink.
Pull yourself together Sydney….
The knock on the door , and Dixon's concerned voice came through the partially opened door. Drawing in one long deep breath, she walked out the door. Dixon was waiting on the outside, pacing nervously, concern etched all over his face.
"Syd, are you ok? I just heard," Dixon spoke first.
Sydney's eyes filled with tears again, and she swiped at it angrily, nodding tremulously.
" Can you tell Sloane that I took off. I need sometime," she got out through tears.
"He asked me to make sure you went home, Syd. He's worried about you. So am I," Dixon said. "He wanted you and your father to take a few days off. Jack left a few minutes ago, kiddo," Dixon smiled gently. "You two should be together."
Sydney nodded her head slightly, and took a deep breath in. She walked to her cubicle to collect her things, Dixon behind her. She started to throw things in her purse, pausing briefly at her cellphone.
"Call him, Syd. And, go to be with him," Dixon urged her gently. Sydney whipped her head around at Dixon. "Your father would really appreciate that."
1 He was talking about Dad… Not Vaughn…
"And, when you get back, we're taking the SOB down," Dixon stated firmly.
Vaughn walked to his office, balancing his briefcase in one hand, coffee in the other, and his coat slung over one arm. He smiled slightly to himself, remembering the hockey game the day before. Haladki had no idea what he'd bargained for. He made a mental note to put in a request for a raise for his assistant, Jeannie.
He chuckled to himself as he dropped the briefcase on his desk, and draped the coat over the back of his chair. Haladki's expression when he realized that he'd been set up for was priceless. The weasel had tried to sit out the game at that point. Driscoll had been smooth, baiting him back to the ice for more punishment. Both Driscoll and Weiss made sure that Haladki had the puck most of the time, with Vaughn covering him. It had been sweet to mush his face in to the Plexiglas, over and over.
"Feel better?" Weiss asked, walking into his office. "Here's the transcripts from last week for Sloane's house. Not much going on since he was away. One interesting call a couple of days ago about some tape though," Weiss filled in taking a bite out of his croissant.
"What tape?" Vaughn asked, accepting the transcripts and reading the highlighted portions himself.
"Don't know. He wanted a tape doctored. Doesn't go into specific. Hey, maybe you can ask Jack. He's with Barnett."
"Jack's with Barnett. Why?"
"Ask Crechtmer. He arranged it," Weiss shrugged as he walked out the door.
Sydney walked into her living room, tossing her things on the couch, before collapsing on it. She had tried her father's phone a few times, but she kept getting his machine. She had finally left a message to call her back.
She debated calling Vaughn. Her first instinct, as always, was to run to her handler, her confidant. But this time, she didn't know how she could. How could she talk to him about all the pain of seeing her mother being broken down, when it was she who was responsible for his fathers death? He didn't even know that she had concluded that she was alive, unless her father had said something, which she doubted.
She cried harder as the images of her mother begging to let her live with her family filtered into her mind. She had cared for them. She wasn't the cruel and calculating woman Sydney had thought she was. This job, this business of espionage, had cost her family everything, taken away more people from their lives.
The sound of footsteps brought her head up, wiping away the tears. She turned around to see Will, approaching hesitantly, intently.
"Your door was open. I figured you were home," he smiled sheepishly. He frowned noticing the red eyes and the other evidence that she'd been crying.
"Syd, are you ok?" he asked gently.
"Yeah, yeah…." Sydney smiled at him bravely. "Just thought of Danny.. and just couldn't stop, you know.."
Will was strangely quiet and thoughtful. He kept his gaze on her, studying her face intently.
"If I said SD-6, that would mean something to you, wouldn't it?" he asked in a very low voice. Sydney's eyes widened at the mention of SD-6. "We, Francie and I, found this ticket stub…..it said Prague.." Will continued.
"You have to stop talking now Will," Sydney ordered authoritatively.
"No, Syd. I think you should tell me what's going on," he continued on stubbornly.
Sydney closed the distance between them quickly, covering his mouth with one hand, and wrapping her other behind his head. She mouthed to him, not here.
Before Will could do anything, the phone began ringing. Both Will and Sydney looked at each other in alarm. She removed her hands and made her way to the phone, picking it up.
"Joey's pizza," the voice on the other end said. Sydney breathed out, automatically responding back to the call, and hung up the phone.
She picked up her purse, tilted her towards the door to Will. She walked out first, scanning both sides, then locking the door after Will had come outside.
"Where are we going?" Will asked.
"Somewhere we can talk," Sydney replied.