surprise, surprise! i'm not dead! i had my exams and plus, my comp went through a lot of reformatting and stuff, so here it is, my early valentine's gift from me to you...another chapter! ^^ R&R!
Chapter Nine
She had never seen so many people come into their quaint little town all in one day.
They had arrived this afternoon, three black cars all pulling up in front of their local motel. Men and women came out dressed entirely in black and serious expressions on their faces as they started trooping into the building. They looked like they came straight out of those spy movies and TV shows. But this was different.
This was real.
She decided to abandon daydreaming in her bedroom window and creep out the door. She was of mature age but she felt like a child hiding behind the motel, watching the strangers walk up and down, and taking steel briefcases and other equipment inside. They looked fragile and sensitive judging by the way they held the boxes and crates.
What was their business up here? She wondered. There's nothing up here in the Yukon. It's all trees and the cold and mountains. There's nothing here that people like these would want. Then again, I could be wrong. With a defiant flip of her bronze hair, she crept into the motel and pretended to act normal like every other townsperson.
There was a tall and pale man standing over Old Bernie, the owner of the motel. He had pale blonde hair and pale skin to match the colour. He looked empowering over the old man as he flipped off his black sunglasses and placed it in his inside jacket pocket. From what she could see, the man had stone cold gray eyes that matched his suspicious look. He was clearly not pleased.
"There are only twenty rooms," Old Bernie was explaining from behind the counter. "What you're asking for is simply impossible."
"Make it possible." His voice was just as cold as his eyes.
"I'd love to, Mister," Old Bernie replied hotly, wiping his thick glasses, "but this old motel simply cannot accommodate so many of your people. This building will simply exhaust itself. Unless your people care to share rooms---let's say, six per room? A little cramp, but that's the best I can do." He shrugged helplessly.
The man leaned over across the counter. "Then do better," he hissed, flipping something from his jacket pocket. "I'm a branch from the CIA known as the MSS." Old Bernie shuddered when he mentioned the CIA. MSS? She wondered. Who are they? She pretended to flip through some magazines and listen to the conversation. "So you better do something before I call up some of my jurisdiction."
Old Bernie wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I'll see what I can do."
As the old man walked away, the supposed agent looked around the room, his steel eyes resting upon her for a brief moment before walking off. She sighed in relief---his stare was just too weird on her. As soon as he was out of sight, she started running off to a secluded area near the woods. There she pulled out a cell phone and started dialling like crazy to the one person who may know what was going on…
…And that person just happened to live in Los Angeles.
The interrogation was going nowhere.
Valenti had left the room for the ninth time over the past three hours to grab the twentieth cup of coffee for the day. Nadia had peeled off her bulky jacket and had tossed it aside as she had taken a seat beside Lee and watched intently, waiting for a moment for the hit man to crack. She sipped from her fifth cup of coffee that morning but she was getting sleepy by the moment.
"You know," Lee said quietly, "too much caffeine is bad for you."
"Look who you're talking to," she quipped back cynically, glancing at him warily. "I'm studying to be a doctor. You shouldn't lecture me. Besides," she added with a defiant swig at the coffee cup, "I need the energy. I'm not exactly hyper-active right now."
"You're the boss."
She paused for a moment. "Aren't you higher-ranking than I am?" she asked with a perplexed look.
He gave a side-glance of his own as he was busy typing out the transaction in the following room. "Yeah, I think I am," he replied huskily, "but you caught the guy, so you're entitled to somewhat of what to do with him. And you did enter here with a senior officer from a senior meeting." The last words dropped down flat and made her wonder.
"Are you jealous?"she asked suddenly.
He glared at her, surprised. "Me? I just met you!"
"True, but you saw me in a senior's meeting…something a rookie like me can't get into."
He gave her a demure look and turned away. "You must be important, then."
"To few people, yeah."
Tamakawa came over the system, sounding tired and frustrated through his thick accent. "You know, I am running out of questions to be asked. He is not cooperating. His training is much more advanced than we initially thought."
"Valenti is not going to like to hear that," Nadia remarked with a sigh of frustration. This was going nowhere. They were stuck and although Nadia could try tapping in to the SD-6 server, but that would take time and not to mention a big risk of being routed back through some of their top technicians. She had read the report made by Sydney Bristow earlier in the new year and was particularly intrigued by their computer scientists and technicians. "I'd keep that to yourself, Doc."
Tamakawa nodded wearily and turned away once again.
"Take a break, Doc," Lee told the weary doctor with a bit of mercy. "You need it."
Tamakawa nodded again and slipped out of the room, leaving the hypnotized Martin Donovan in the room, guarded by some security agents. Lee then turned to Nadia, who was pressing her fingers to her temples. She looked just as frustrated as everyone else, and although he was out of the loop, he could tell that it was important to knock the information out his or her captive. She didn't look more than four years under his own age and she didn't appear to be a regular CIA agent and here she was looking like the fate of the world rested on her hands.
What was going on?
"What's the next strategy????" he asked seriously, pulling off the earpiece and tossing it onto the table were papers and transcripts were littered like crazy. He brushed his hair back expertly and looked at her warily. Although it was only eleven in the morning, he looked like he had been there for hours on end. It was affecting their brains.
"How about the good old fashion kick it out of him for strategy?" she asked sardonically.
He couldn't help smiling. "I doubt it'd work now---"
Someone's cell phone went off. Both of them checked their cell phones immediately. Nadia went to her hip and pulled out her trusty cell phone. She expected Vaughn's name to be on the screen but the caller ID read "Anna" and it appeared to be a long distance call. She looked up to Lee, who pocketed his cell phone away. "I won't be long," she told him earnestly.
She then got up and left the room.
He watched her leave.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you're home today, Francie," Will said as he was busy packing at his place. "Yes, yes, and I know that you're still suffering from jet lag but I want you to tell Sydney when she comes home from work that I won't be home." He tossed some underwear into the overflowing suitcase and tried shutting it while holding the phone on his shoulder.
"Why? Where are you going? What's happened while I was gone?"
Will didn't want to repeat the series of events the past few days. The entire argument this morning still made him shake in anger and jealousy. He wanted to get down on his knees and show Sydney just how much he cared. Life just wasn't fair on him!!! He sighed heavily as he told Francie, "Look, I just need some time out from here. I'm taking a vacation to San Francisco."
"A vacation," Francie snorted derisively. "That's only like, a hour away from here!"
"So?"
"Who's going with you? Oh, lemme guess, cheerleader girl!"
Will felt his hands go wet as he snapped his fingers onto the clasp. It missed its intended target and the suitcase went flying open, his clothes going all over the place. His underwear fell onto his head as he tried hard not to groan in frustration. "Of course not," he lied hotly as he started tossing this clothes back in again starting with the pair of briefs on his head.
"Remember what happened to Pinocchio when he lied?"
"Sure," Will replied, knowing it was way off topic. "His nose grew longer."
"Well, that'll happen to you, Will," she shot back huffily, not trying to hide her momentary disgust. "I know that little cheerleader got you into this entire idea of a vacation. Well, go right ahead, mister. You will not be missed from this little end of California." She ended the little speech with another huff of indignation.
Will sighed again, more wearily. "Look, Francie, can you just tell her?"
"Sure, I'll tell her, I'm sure it'll break her heart."
Not really since she got someone to fill it for her, Will thought bitterly but did not say it out loud. He didn't want to embarrass himself nor Sydney---like that was going to help solve his never-ending problems. It was a convenience to Sydney and a pain for Will. "Whatever," he snapped gruffly at the thought. "Just tell her."
"Okay, okay, geez."
"I'll talk to you when I get back."
"Um…okay…"
Will hung up before Francie could say anything more. This was all an embarrassment that he needed to get away from, at least for a few days. Jenny's offer was the perfect opportunity to sit back and relax and take in the view. Sure, Jenny was expecting him to be spending some "quality time" with her, but what the hell? He could still contemplate on his impending misery.
He pressed his hands down on his suitcase again, part of the energy coming from his frustration. His life was really out of order and he had to do something about it. He sighed and tried clipping the suitcase again. He missed the lock and the case opened again with the clothes flying all over the place once more. Once again, the same pair of briefs landed on his head.
He took off the briefs from his head with the utmost care and looked at it sardonically before throwing it angry out the window.
His phone rang.
Weiss looked up from the sudden distraction. He was busy scanning the computer outlooks coming in and out from SD-6 like waste disposals. It was a very annoying job, just watching all the information coming in and out in hopes that he would catch a blip on its way to the main server. Someone like Nadia should be doing this, he thought ruefully. She's a lot better than I am.
He picked up the receiver. "Weiss."
"It's Paul."
"Paul who?" Weiss demanded, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I know lots of Pauls. There's Paul my cousin, Paul the head manager of that delicious restaurant, there's Paul that does service in the church, there's that idiot Paul who always drives too early in the morning with beer in his hand…"
"I think I got the idea, Eric," Paul replied tersely. "It's Paul down at the Undercover Intel."
"Ohh…. hi Paul."
"Um, right. Anyways, I had to give you a heads-up on something."
"What is it?" Weiss asked, leaning forward on his desk and dropping his voice.
He heard a click, click, and click in the background. "Well, I was running a usual routine on the computer system," he told Weiss, "when I came across some weird data stream information. I didn't see this yesterday---and the information is dating back to yesterday as well. I checked them out-it appears that someone is trying to locate one of the CIA agents here."
"Which agent?"
"Agent Michael Vaughn."
"Damn!" Weiss cried. "Who the hell is inquiring?"
"Some journalist…named…" Click, click, click. "A Will Tippin."
Weiss groaned. Of course…a journalist. This was the last thing that he needed to think about, especially since everyone was out doing something. He couldn't contact Vaughn and give him a heads up…he was busy having a meeting with Sydney on the latest developments. He couldn't contact Nadia because both she and Valenti was busy trying to get some information out of their hit man. Jack Bristow was busy trying to drain out the mole in SD-6.
Where was the world coming to?
"Thanks for the tip, Paul. Got to go now."
"Um, right---"
Weiss hanged up from Paul before phoning in another division. He sighed; Vaughn was going to owe him big time for what he was about to do. "Yeah, it's Weiss…get an agent to cover someone…yeah, yeah, I know, I owe you…all right already! No, he's not a target…just…. okay! Geez, yes, yes, I know that already!" He groaned. "Yeah, the guy's name is Will Tippin."
Hasina Mekiva.
Carl Ubertin.
George Jackson.
Harriet Wilkinson.
Yalila McGregor.
Ben Cardinal
Those were the names of the people whose computers were still operational in the SD-6 office. Jack scanned the list down once and thought about it for a moment. He cancelled out Ben and Harriet; both of them were on vacation leave, whatever that meant in SD-6. He also ruled out George because he hadn't appeared in the office lately due to the fact that he was fighting a nasty flu.
That left him with Carl, Yalila and Hasina.
He looked up from his desk to watch the three suspects. Yalila was coming back from her lunch break and was walking over to her desk. Yalila was a tall woman with flaming red hair and a tight face. Her green eyes did not sparkle like others but instead held a certain dullness. She was unlike every other woman in the entire cell; she seemed suspicious. A recently acquired agent, Jack considered her as a possible suspect.
He turned to his right to see Carl busy at his desk, talking to another fellow agent. He was a tall man with olive skin and dark, curly hair. He had dark circles under his eyes like a raccoon, but his eyes appeared bright and alert. His eyes darted about, as if someone was watching him from afar. Jack had talked to him once before his promotion and Jack didn't know where he placed his thoughts about the guy. He gave him a chilling feeling as his rationalism told him that it was odd for this young man to be promoted so quickly. Jack had earned that position after years of digging in. Carl was definitely a suspect.
He finally saw Hasina walk from the front doors. She was a short woman with dark skin and thick makeup. Her long hair was coiled up into a tight bun on her head as she was fiddling with the jacket of her suit. She wasn't athletic but she was bright and she read between the lines. She wasn't popular amoung the other agents and she was often alone in everything. Maybe she was plotting against her fellow agents? He considered her a suspect as well.
He looked at his list. This isn't going to be easy, he realized. All of them have attributes that pointed them to be the receiver of the message. He groaned. He would rather be doing some other mission than this. He wished Sydney was here; this was something that she could do a lot better than him. After all, she interacted more with these agents that himself because he was a senior officer.
He also had that strange feeling that many people feared him.
Where was Sydney anyways? He looked at his watch. There was only a few more hours before he was suppose to go home and they still had a lot of ground to cover between the three suspects. He needed a little more support if he were to finish doing his rounds and report back to the CIA. Devlin was a little anxious about everything that was going on with fractions against their main target. Ever since that maniac McKenas, Devlin was becoming uptight about whatever other people were out there that were planning for revenge.
This scared Jack quite a bit. Unfortunate for him, little scared him these days.
The doors opened to the workroom and in strolled Sydney. About time, he thought. What took her so long? Maybe there were a lot of things her handler had to say in the matter of what was going on…then again; he always had a lot to say to her. The man was love-struck, a hopeless romantic. She appeared a little shaken and if not mistaken embarrassed in his opinion. Her eyes met his and he gave her a brief nod. She began to walk towards him.
"What's up, Dad?" she asked softly.
He passed along the paper with the names of his suspects. "I've narrowed down the list that you gave me," he told her softly, trying not to look too conspicuous. "I can't narrow down them further."
"So you're hoping they'll slip?"
"They were trained to be the best," he replied wearily. "I doubt they'll slip."
"Well, I'll keep an eye out for them."
"Where are you going?" he asked, suddenly alert and afraid for what she was going to do.
She gave him an odd look. "To talk to Sloane."
Jack felt his hands go cold. "Why?"
"To recruit his help."
Chapter Nine
She had never seen so many people come into their quaint little town all in one day.
They had arrived this afternoon, three black cars all pulling up in front of their local motel. Men and women came out dressed entirely in black and serious expressions on their faces as they started trooping into the building. They looked like they came straight out of those spy movies and TV shows. But this was different.
This was real.
She decided to abandon daydreaming in her bedroom window and creep out the door. She was of mature age but she felt like a child hiding behind the motel, watching the strangers walk up and down, and taking steel briefcases and other equipment inside. They looked fragile and sensitive judging by the way they held the boxes and crates.
What was their business up here? She wondered. There's nothing up here in the Yukon. It's all trees and the cold and mountains. There's nothing here that people like these would want. Then again, I could be wrong. With a defiant flip of her bronze hair, she crept into the motel and pretended to act normal like every other townsperson.
There was a tall and pale man standing over Old Bernie, the owner of the motel. He had pale blonde hair and pale skin to match the colour. He looked empowering over the old man as he flipped off his black sunglasses and placed it in his inside jacket pocket. From what she could see, the man had stone cold gray eyes that matched his suspicious look. He was clearly not pleased.
"There are only twenty rooms," Old Bernie was explaining from behind the counter. "What you're asking for is simply impossible."
"Make it possible." His voice was just as cold as his eyes.
"I'd love to, Mister," Old Bernie replied hotly, wiping his thick glasses, "but this old motel simply cannot accommodate so many of your people. This building will simply exhaust itself. Unless your people care to share rooms---let's say, six per room? A little cramp, but that's the best I can do." He shrugged helplessly.
The man leaned over across the counter. "Then do better," he hissed, flipping something from his jacket pocket. "I'm a branch from the CIA known as the MSS." Old Bernie shuddered when he mentioned the CIA. MSS? She wondered. Who are they? She pretended to flip through some magazines and listen to the conversation. "So you better do something before I call up some of my jurisdiction."
Old Bernie wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I'll see what I can do."
As the old man walked away, the supposed agent looked around the room, his steel eyes resting upon her for a brief moment before walking off. She sighed in relief---his stare was just too weird on her. As soon as he was out of sight, she started running off to a secluded area near the woods. There she pulled out a cell phone and started dialling like crazy to the one person who may know what was going on…
…And that person just happened to live in Los Angeles.
The interrogation was going nowhere.
Valenti had left the room for the ninth time over the past three hours to grab the twentieth cup of coffee for the day. Nadia had peeled off her bulky jacket and had tossed it aside as she had taken a seat beside Lee and watched intently, waiting for a moment for the hit man to crack. She sipped from her fifth cup of coffee that morning but she was getting sleepy by the moment.
"You know," Lee said quietly, "too much caffeine is bad for you."
"Look who you're talking to," she quipped back cynically, glancing at him warily. "I'm studying to be a doctor. You shouldn't lecture me. Besides," she added with a defiant swig at the coffee cup, "I need the energy. I'm not exactly hyper-active right now."
"You're the boss."
She paused for a moment. "Aren't you higher-ranking than I am?" she asked with a perplexed look.
He gave a side-glance of his own as he was busy typing out the transaction in the following room. "Yeah, I think I am," he replied huskily, "but you caught the guy, so you're entitled to somewhat of what to do with him. And you did enter here with a senior officer from a senior meeting." The last words dropped down flat and made her wonder.
"Are you jealous?"she asked suddenly.
He glared at her, surprised. "Me? I just met you!"
"True, but you saw me in a senior's meeting…something a rookie like me can't get into."
He gave her a demure look and turned away. "You must be important, then."
"To few people, yeah."
Tamakawa came over the system, sounding tired and frustrated through his thick accent. "You know, I am running out of questions to be asked. He is not cooperating. His training is much more advanced than we initially thought."
"Valenti is not going to like to hear that," Nadia remarked with a sigh of frustration. This was going nowhere. They were stuck and although Nadia could try tapping in to the SD-6 server, but that would take time and not to mention a big risk of being routed back through some of their top technicians. She had read the report made by Sydney Bristow earlier in the new year and was particularly intrigued by their computer scientists and technicians. "I'd keep that to yourself, Doc."
Tamakawa nodded wearily and turned away once again.
"Take a break, Doc," Lee told the weary doctor with a bit of mercy. "You need it."
Tamakawa nodded again and slipped out of the room, leaving the hypnotized Martin Donovan in the room, guarded by some security agents. Lee then turned to Nadia, who was pressing her fingers to her temples. She looked just as frustrated as everyone else, and although he was out of the loop, he could tell that it was important to knock the information out his or her captive. She didn't look more than four years under his own age and she didn't appear to be a regular CIA agent and here she was looking like the fate of the world rested on her hands.
What was going on?
"What's the next strategy????" he asked seriously, pulling off the earpiece and tossing it onto the table were papers and transcripts were littered like crazy. He brushed his hair back expertly and looked at her warily. Although it was only eleven in the morning, he looked like he had been there for hours on end. It was affecting their brains.
"How about the good old fashion kick it out of him for strategy?" she asked sardonically.
He couldn't help smiling. "I doubt it'd work now---"
Someone's cell phone went off. Both of them checked their cell phones immediately. Nadia went to her hip and pulled out her trusty cell phone. She expected Vaughn's name to be on the screen but the caller ID read "Anna" and it appeared to be a long distance call. She looked up to Lee, who pocketed his cell phone away. "I won't be long," she told him earnestly.
She then got up and left the room.
He watched her leave.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you're home today, Francie," Will said as he was busy packing at his place. "Yes, yes, and I know that you're still suffering from jet lag but I want you to tell Sydney when she comes home from work that I won't be home." He tossed some underwear into the overflowing suitcase and tried shutting it while holding the phone on his shoulder.
"Why? Where are you going? What's happened while I was gone?"
Will didn't want to repeat the series of events the past few days. The entire argument this morning still made him shake in anger and jealousy. He wanted to get down on his knees and show Sydney just how much he cared. Life just wasn't fair on him!!! He sighed heavily as he told Francie, "Look, I just need some time out from here. I'm taking a vacation to San Francisco."
"A vacation," Francie snorted derisively. "That's only like, a hour away from here!"
"So?"
"Who's going with you? Oh, lemme guess, cheerleader girl!"
Will felt his hands go wet as he snapped his fingers onto the clasp. It missed its intended target and the suitcase went flying open, his clothes going all over the place. His underwear fell onto his head as he tried hard not to groan in frustration. "Of course not," he lied hotly as he started tossing this clothes back in again starting with the pair of briefs on his head.
"Remember what happened to Pinocchio when he lied?"
"Sure," Will replied, knowing it was way off topic. "His nose grew longer."
"Well, that'll happen to you, Will," she shot back huffily, not trying to hide her momentary disgust. "I know that little cheerleader got you into this entire idea of a vacation. Well, go right ahead, mister. You will not be missed from this little end of California." She ended the little speech with another huff of indignation.
Will sighed again, more wearily. "Look, Francie, can you just tell her?"
"Sure, I'll tell her, I'm sure it'll break her heart."
Not really since she got someone to fill it for her, Will thought bitterly but did not say it out loud. He didn't want to embarrass himself nor Sydney---like that was going to help solve his never-ending problems. It was a convenience to Sydney and a pain for Will. "Whatever," he snapped gruffly at the thought. "Just tell her."
"Okay, okay, geez."
"I'll talk to you when I get back."
"Um…okay…"
Will hung up before Francie could say anything more. This was all an embarrassment that he needed to get away from, at least for a few days. Jenny's offer was the perfect opportunity to sit back and relax and take in the view. Sure, Jenny was expecting him to be spending some "quality time" with her, but what the hell? He could still contemplate on his impending misery.
He pressed his hands down on his suitcase again, part of the energy coming from his frustration. His life was really out of order and he had to do something about it. He sighed and tried clipping the suitcase again. He missed the lock and the case opened again with the clothes flying all over the place once more. Once again, the same pair of briefs landed on his head.
He took off the briefs from his head with the utmost care and looked at it sardonically before throwing it angry out the window.
His phone rang.
Weiss looked up from the sudden distraction. He was busy scanning the computer outlooks coming in and out from SD-6 like waste disposals. It was a very annoying job, just watching all the information coming in and out in hopes that he would catch a blip on its way to the main server. Someone like Nadia should be doing this, he thought ruefully. She's a lot better than I am.
He picked up the receiver. "Weiss."
"It's Paul."
"Paul who?" Weiss demanded, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I know lots of Pauls. There's Paul my cousin, Paul the head manager of that delicious restaurant, there's Paul that does service in the church, there's that idiot Paul who always drives too early in the morning with beer in his hand…"
"I think I got the idea, Eric," Paul replied tersely. "It's Paul down at the Undercover Intel."
"Ohh…. hi Paul."
"Um, right. Anyways, I had to give you a heads-up on something."
"What is it?" Weiss asked, leaning forward on his desk and dropping his voice.
He heard a click, click, and click in the background. "Well, I was running a usual routine on the computer system," he told Weiss, "when I came across some weird data stream information. I didn't see this yesterday---and the information is dating back to yesterday as well. I checked them out-it appears that someone is trying to locate one of the CIA agents here."
"Which agent?"
"Agent Michael Vaughn."
"Damn!" Weiss cried. "Who the hell is inquiring?"
"Some journalist…named…" Click, click, click. "A Will Tippin."
Weiss groaned. Of course…a journalist. This was the last thing that he needed to think about, especially since everyone was out doing something. He couldn't contact Vaughn and give him a heads up…he was busy having a meeting with Sydney on the latest developments. He couldn't contact Nadia because both she and Valenti was busy trying to get some information out of their hit man. Jack Bristow was busy trying to drain out the mole in SD-6.
Where was the world coming to?
"Thanks for the tip, Paul. Got to go now."
"Um, right---"
Weiss hanged up from Paul before phoning in another division. He sighed; Vaughn was going to owe him big time for what he was about to do. "Yeah, it's Weiss…get an agent to cover someone…yeah, yeah, I know, I owe you…all right already! No, he's not a target…just…. okay! Geez, yes, yes, I know that already!" He groaned. "Yeah, the guy's name is Will Tippin."
Hasina Mekiva.
Carl Ubertin.
George Jackson.
Harriet Wilkinson.
Yalila McGregor.
Ben Cardinal
Those were the names of the people whose computers were still operational in the SD-6 office. Jack scanned the list down once and thought about it for a moment. He cancelled out Ben and Harriet; both of them were on vacation leave, whatever that meant in SD-6. He also ruled out George because he hadn't appeared in the office lately due to the fact that he was fighting a nasty flu.
That left him with Carl, Yalila and Hasina.
He looked up from his desk to watch the three suspects. Yalila was coming back from her lunch break and was walking over to her desk. Yalila was a tall woman with flaming red hair and a tight face. Her green eyes did not sparkle like others but instead held a certain dullness. She was unlike every other woman in the entire cell; she seemed suspicious. A recently acquired agent, Jack considered her as a possible suspect.
He turned to his right to see Carl busy at his desk, talking to another fellow agent. He was a tall man with olive skin and dark, curly hair. He had dark circles under his eyes like a raccoon, but his eyes appeared bright and alert. His eyes darted about, as if someone was watching him from afar. Jack had talked to him once before his promotion and Jack didn't know where he placed his thoughts about the guy. He gave him a chilling feeling as his rationalism told him that it was odd for this young man to be promoted so quickly. Jack had earned that position after years of digging in. Carl was definitely a suspect.
He finally saw Hasina walk from the front doors. She was a short woman with dark skin and thick makeup. Her long hair was coiled up into a tight bun on her head as she was fiddling with the jacket of her suit. She wasn't athletic but she was bright and she read between the lines. She wasn't popular amoung the other agents and she was often alone in everything. Maybe she was plotting against her fellow agents? He considered her a suspect as well.
He looked at his list. This isn't going to be easy, he realized. All of them have attributes that pointed them to be the receiver of the message. He groaned. He would rather be doing some other mission than this. He wished Sydney was here; this was something that she could do a lot better than him. After all, she interacted more with these agents that himself because he was a senior officer.
He also had that strange feeling that many people feared him.
Where was Sydney anyways? He looked at his watch. There was only a few more hours before he was suppose to go home and they still had a lot of ground to cover between the three suspects. He needed a little more support if he were to finish doing his rounds and report back to the CIA. Devlin was a little anxious about everything that was going on with fractions against their main target. Ever since that maniac McKenas, Devlin was becoming uptight about whatever other people were out there that were planning for revenge.
This scared Jack quite a bit. Unfortunate for him, little scared him these days.
The doors opened to the workroom and in strolled Sydney. About time, he thought. What took her so long? Maybe there were a lot of things her handler had to say in the matter of what was going on…then again; he always had a lot to say to her. The man was love-struck, a hopeless romantic. She appeared a little shaken and if not mistaken embarrassed in his opinion. Her eyes met his and he gave her a brief nod. She began to walk towards him.
"What's up, Dad?" she asked softly.
He passed along the paper with the names of his suspects. "I've narrowed down the list that you gave me," he told her softly, trying not to look too conspicuous. "I can't narrow down them further."
"So you're hoping they'll slip?"
"They were trained to be the best," he replied wearily. "I doubt they'll slip."
"Well, I'll keep an eye out for them."
"Where are you going?" he asked, suddenly alert and afraid for what she was going to do.
She gave him an odd look. "To talk to Sloane."
Jack felt his hands go cold. "Why?"
"To recruit his help."