Conséquence-Alias, PG13-Vaughn
Peregrine
Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone and is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.
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Chapter Six: The Space Between
"Sorry I'm late." Not really. Never wanted to be here in the first place.
Twelve sets of eyes staring at me. Devlin is pink, but he looks more pickled than tickled. "Glad you could make it," he says with that edge in his voice.
I'll deal with you later.
Between rounds of golf and his weekly appointment at the massage parlor.
The only empty chair is on his right. The seat where no one wants to sit. He saves it for latecomers like me. The proverbial dunce cap waiting in the wings so he can humiliate me. I suppose I should cut him some slack. For the most part, he's been decent to me. I think it goes back to The Days of William. Sounds like a soap opera, doesn't it? In a way, that's exactly what it is. A fraternity that includes Jack Bristow and his ilk. Protecting each other's backs. Except my father wanted no part of it. Cronyism made him sick. I look around the room and see the usual suspects.
Lambert. Devlin. Davenport.
Where's Jack Bristow? Those four are always here. Lording it over...oh sorry, shepherding us poor lambs along. Yeah, I can see why it pissed off my dad. But I keep my mouth shut and take my seat.
The meeting drones on for awhile about this committee and that subcommittee and someone's line item being excised from the black budget. Oh boo-hoo. Get over it already. I got bigger problems than their financials.
"Mr. Vaughn, could you please bring us up to speed on the Bristow case?" A new voice. Female. Familiar. I look up and see Judy Barnett in the far corner of the room. Slim legs crossed. Ash blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Too attractive for a shrink. Hell, too attractive period. And I shouldn't be having these thoughts. My traitorous mind should be asking what she's doing here, asking questions that usually come from Devlin's mouth. And then it all makes sense.
They already know. Jack briefed them yesterday. Replace Jack with Barnett. Put me on edge. See if I trip up.
"Which part of the Bristow case would that be?" Ah, Michael, you're so slick when you want to be. Deliberately obtuse.
"The whereabouts of the fluid we had in our vault." This comes from Devlin, and I realize I have it all wrong. They don't know a thing. Which means, no report on my activities in Taipei. Yet. They know something is up and figure they can work on me first.
Michael Vaughn is an honest man. Honorable. Responsible. A perfectionist. No stone is left unturned. He follows the rules. Carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. In short, he has the classic signs of generalized anxiety disorder.
OK, so it's pure fabrication. But I know that's how they see me. And they figure they can wear me down with intimidation. Throw in the shrink for good measure.
They have a rapport. He likes to look at her legs.Scratch that last one. Honestly, I have no idea where Rambaldi's magic potion is. "I wish I knew," I say with perfect sincerity.
"Jack Bristow was the last person to sign into our storage facility and no one has seen him since. We thought you might know where he is." Lambert was joining the party and I remember why I dislike him so much. Smug son of a bitch with his golfer's tan. Sexist comments about Syd, treating her like she's a piece of meat.
"Sorry. I spent the entire weekend watching the playoffs." Half truth. I spent half the weekend on my lazy ass.
"So Agent Bristow hasn't contacted you?" Barnett asks, raising her thinly plucked brows into a permanent question mark.
Which Bristow is she talking about? "Nope," I reply, figuring I am off the hook. "Was she supposed to?"
Barnett and Devlin exchange uneasy glances, but they decide I am telling them the truth. The smirk inside of me fills me with my newfound snarkiness. It's a suit that fits me really well and I decide to keep it around for awhile. Because at the moment the door opens and Jack and Sydney intrude on the meeting, I figure I'm going to need my sense of humor.
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She looks directly at me, then looks away. Is that guilt I see in her eyes, or something else? Are they about to hang me? The two of them have enough on me to end my career. I have no proof, but I have my doubts about Taipei. It all seems too easy. Our escape. Irina waltzing out of there. I saw nothing, but my dreams tell another story. That maybe I heard something....sensed something....and I've learned not to ignore my dreams. It's something that runs in the family. Trish has these visions....freaky ones that come true. And I seem to be cut from the same cloth, so who knows?
The project meeting adjourns and I fold my hands. Waiting for the ax to fall. Willing to accept whatever they dish out. Devlin coughs and points to the door. "We'll call you back in when we're ready."
Closed session. Devlin. Jack and Syd. Dr. Barnett. I meander back to my office and find Weiss parked in my chair.
"So you want to hear the details?" Haladki again.
"Do I have a choice?" I sigh. With an upward glance, I start counting the tiny dots in the ceiling baffle. Sometimes I connect the dots a certain way and see Taurus. Right now I see Aries and he's gearing up for battle.
"Look, I know you're still mad, but I did what I had to do." He gets up and lets me have my chair back. Swell guy, that Eric.
"I'm sure you did." The soft way I always try to veil my anger isn't working now. There's a hard edge to my words that cuts my friend to the quick. His eyes flash with hurt and he twists his fingers together, sadly devoid of their usual yo-yo.
"It's part of our training. We're not supposed to....do what you did." Weiss is right and I finally let his words placate me. "Wouldn't you have done the same in my place?"
Good question. "I don't know." My coin comes out and I watch the play of light as I manipulate it through my fingers. "But here's the thing. Right or wrong, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore."
"Ah." A single expulsion of breath, fraught with tangled emotions. Hurt overlaying confusion. And I see he remembers his words about trust being a tricky thing. "Maybe I should go."
"Maybe." I keep my voice neutral and finally meet him halfway, hoping he'll give me some reason to give him another chance.
"But that's not what I want. You and I....we've been friends for a long time....watched one another's backs....and when you called me about Taipei, I didn't tell them."
The words echo in my head and I look at him sharply. Consideration. Weighing his words. The light of truth shines from Weiss like a beacon and a door opens in my heart. "How did you....."
"Back channels. Old favors. And Jack Bristow," Weiss says shakily, easing back into the folding chair against my wall. The man scares him. A sentiment I understand. The man can say anything and do anything and they turn their backs. Complete carte blanche. The ultimate double agent. Controlling everyone around him.
"So he told you...."
"About you and Syd? Yeah. When I told him you were alive, he got this funny note in his voice. That's when I started to worry....I was real happy to see you this morning. Alive. Unlike Haladki."
I drop the coin with a thump and steeple my fingers. "Someone capped him."
"They did us a favor." Eric doesn't sound so sure about this, but it feels completely right to me.
"He said he had a source." Full of information about the battery. Its location. Everything. Pulled straight from the mouth of the horse's ass.
"Who worked for Khasinau." Weiss is quick on his feet and even faster at drawing conclusions. More often than not, he's right on the money.
"Something isn't right about this." I rise to my feet and scratch my forehead like I always do when I'm thinking. "I can't put my finger on it.....but it seems too simple."
"You think he had help?"
I suddenly remember my father's journal entry.
There's a highly placed mole in the Agency. Too many missions have crashed and burned, too many secrets have ended up on the other side.
He dropped that idea when he caught up with Irina and never lived to follow through on that lead. "Yeah, and we're going to find out who it is."
"Cool," Eric says with a gleam in his eyes.
My phone buzzes. Devlin wants me upstairs. "I have to go."
"Good luck," Weiss says, patting my shoulder before disappearing out the door.
I swallow hard, knowing that I'll need a lot more than luck to save me now.
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