"It's just weird, having that feeling that someone you love isn't telling you everything."  Francie was talking about her boyfriend Charlie and his lack of enthusiasm for his great job offer.  However, Sydney felt a hot knife cut through her skin at those words.

One side of the blade was guilt because she had not told Francie "everything" since their freshman year in college.  Francie kept no secrets from her, and thought Sydney was the same way with her.

The other side of the blade was her own pain.  Her father had been lying to her for years, but she could accept it.  She had never told him about her spying career for the same reasons that he had never admitted the truth to her.  However, her mother's betrayal she was having a hard time accepting.  Maybe because her mother had yet to tell her everything.

"Your dad is great.  It's nice knowing that you can always depend upon him for advice," Sydney told her, referring to Francie's earlier revelation about her phone call with her father.  He had told Francie that Charlie was one of the good ones.

"You know what is so irritating?  Our dads are always right," Francie said.

Sydney laughed and took a sip of her lemonade.  "Oh, yeah.  Always.  It's not fair."

Francie laughed with her.  "No, it's not, but it's great.  We were both lucky with our parents."

"I wouldn't pick any others," Sydney said, realizing it was the truth.  Even with all the secrets still between them, she loved her mother.

Francie stared at her.  She leaned back and studied her some more.  "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"  Sydney asked, nibbling on her lip.

Sighing, Francie sipped her lemonade.  "I mean that you and your mom have not been acting normal lately."

Sydney stared at her friend, surprised by her insights, although she knew she shouldn't be.  No amount of training had helped her act the same way towards her mother at home.  There was a wall between them, and Sydney had not even tried to cross it.  "We've been fighting a lot lately."

"Why?"  Francie's eyes glowed with compassion and understanding.

Rubbing her hands against her jeans, Sydney tried to tell her friend as much of the truth as she could.  Then, she realized she couldn't share even a small sliver of the truth.  "I found out my mom's a liar," would create more questions than it would answer.  "Mom's been trying to protect me, and I've been pushing her away.  I think I'm ready to move out on my own, and she wants me to stay here a little longer."

Francie finished her lemonade before she said anything.  "I think you need to move out, too."

Sydney looked up at her with her eyes widened.  "Really?"

"Yeah, really.  You came home after Danny died, Sydney, and you hid here.  It was your safety blanket," her friend told her with perfect honesty.  Sydney sometimes resented that honesty, resented the fact she couldn't share in it.

She thought about Francie's words and the truth they held.  Home had been a safety blanket, at least until she had learned about her mother's real job.  In some ways, it still was.  Her father was near at hand if she had any questions or problems.  "You're right."  She finished off her own glass of lemonade.  "I'm going to start looking for my own apartment next week.  After I get that paper done."

Francie grinned and then looked serious again.  "Can I offer some more advice?"  Sydney let her face answer for her.  "Go and talk to your mom.  Just talk; tell her what you are feeling.  You've always been good at talking."

***

"Hey, Jack, do you have a few minutes?"  Vaughn called out to him as he walked past.

Schooling his face into an expressionless expression, Jack turned and walked into his friend's office.  "Of course, I do, Michael.  What do you need?"

Vaughn played with a piece of paper on his desk.  "Has Devlin told you about--?"

"Cairo?" Jack finished.  He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in the chair across the desk.  "Yes, he did."  His teeth protested at the force his jaw was exerting.  He forced his mouth to relax.  He worked his jaw from side to side in an effort to release some of the tension.  "Sydney did a wonderful job recovering the core."

Running his hand through his hair, Vaughn nodded.  "Yeah, she did."

Jack thought about Sydney tossing that core in the air.  He thought about everything she wrote in that report, and his stomach rolled in protest.  His little girl should be safe at home instead of out in the world risking everything to bring down evil.  He was so damn proud of her.

Vaughn looked down at his watch and said, "I have a meet with Sydney in an hour.  I have to tell her what her countermission is."

"Which is?" Jack asked before he could help himself.  He knew he should stay out of it.  He was too close, too emotionally involved.  He knew it just as sure as he knew that there was no way in hell that he would.

He saw a flash of understanding in Vaughn's eyes.  "Basically, the same mission she has for SD-6.  We want the code that Eduardo Beneges has, too."

"Yes, Devlin mentioned that earlier."  Jack nodded.  "Any hint on the Rambaldi documents is important if we are going to ever understand him."

Vaughn laughed and leaned back in his chair.  "Oh, come on, Jack.  You don't believe in this prophet crap, do you?"

Jack stared at him and then looked down at his own shoes.  "I don't, Michael.  I believe in data and evidence, not ESP, but the facts where Rambaldi are concerned--" He shrugged.  "I don't know."

Vaughn crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it into his trashcan.  "The little information that Devlin shared with me about the guy makes me think of da Vinci combined with Nostradamus."

"That about sums him up.  Michael, don't let your personal prejudice interfere here.  There is a lot of information you don't know--that I don't know.  He has a small group of followers; he's never been noticed much before because he was so far ahead of the game that his opponents couldn't even understand him."

"I don't believe I'm hearing Jack Bristow talking."

Jack didn't believe it was him talking either.  "He died in 1496, Michael."

"I know," Vaughn answered with a nod.  "Devlin mentioned it.  Said he was Pope Alexander VI's chief architect, and that he was burned to death for suggesting that someday science would allow us to know God."

"After he died, his plans and sketches were traded and sold," Jack shared.  "No one even understood them then, but last March, a Russian historian found one of Rambaldi's early designs.  It looked a lot like a transistor."

Vaughn stared at him.  "Coincidence."

Jack smiled, really smiled for the first time in a long time.  "Come on, Michael.  You read what Sydney wrote."  Vaughn looked at him in surprise.  "Yes, Devlin's been letting me see her files."  He leaned forward.  "She said that SD-6 has some of his work: a rudimentary schematic for a transportable vocal communicator."

"A cell phone."

"Yes," Jack said, excited.  "This man was drawing cell phones when people weren't even sending mail.  Think about what else he may have drawn.  Michael, he spent the last ten years of his life working on one project.  Just one.  We don't have any idea what it might be, but almost every intelligence agency in the world is working on this project.  It needs to be our focus, too."

Vaughn grinned.  "It's good to see you excited about something."

"Well, I haven't had a whole lot to be excited about lately," Jack admitted.  He stared at his friend.  "I'm trying, Michael.  I'm trying."  Trying to hold it all together.  Trying to not unravel like the world around him was doing.

"It's been almost a month," Vaughn snapped, suddenly looking furious.  "They should have given you the all clear by now."

Jack leaned forward, resting an elbow on the desk.  "I'm sorry if I hadn't told you this before, but we work for the federal government."

"And they never move fast," Vaughn sighed as he grinned.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  "I know, but it still pisses me off."

Jack didn't share his friend's anger; he deserved anything they gave him.  He had been so stupid for so long.  Blind.  Maybe the part of himself that he was the most upset with was the part that yearned to return to blindness.  The part that wanted to believe that his wife had never betrayed him.  The part that believed Laura's claims of love.

"Tell her to be careful for me.  She has a history with Anna Espinosa," Jack said as he stood.  Vaughn nodded and didn't say anything as the older man left the office