Chapter 4 – The Countermission
Notes: See Chapter 1.
[LOS ANGELES – The Warehouse]
She strides quickly through the maze of crates and containers to the area where Vaughn is waiting for her.
She turns the corner and sees him sitting in a foldable chair, reading the contents of a file folder. Hearing her approach, he looks up and puts the folder on a nearby table and gets up to slide the chain link fence to the side to let her in.
"Sorry I'm late, traffic was murder," she says.
"Yeah, I just got here a few minutes ago myself." He looks as tired and rumpled as she feels, and he runs his hand through his hair in a gesture that signals to her that he's agitated about something.
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're doing your running-the-hand-through-the-hair-gesture. You do that when you're nervous about something."
He smiles, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly.
"I am a spy, you know. I'm trained to notice things," she offers, deadpan with an arched eyebrow.
He lets out a half-snort. "You're in a mood today."
"Wouldn't you be if in less than 24 hours everything that you've been working towards was going to be within your grasp?"
"Well, that's why I'm nervous. The CIA received a similarly worded email about the existence of the Alliance Master File hours before SD-6 got theirs. But from a different source. Here."
He passes the file folder to her and she quickly scans the contents of the email.
"So the source you guys use is completely different from SD-6's…so what? Shouldn't the fact that two different, reliable, and independent sources are saying that this file exists be enough proof to go after it?"
He gives her a look that makes her remember the rash declaration she had made to him in the bloodmobile almost a year ago, about shutting down SD-6 in mere months - just before he showed her the SD-6 organizational map.
"Remember Algiers and Denpasar? How we set up the story that there was a second ampule to draw out Khasinau? This is what it reminds me of. Somebody is trying to stir up some trouble by dangling this file in front of SD-6's and CIA's and God knows how many other intelligence agencies' noses. But it's too good of an opportunity to pass up."
"Then what's my countermission going to be?"
"You'll go to Hartley House and perform your mission for SD-6. Get a copy of the Master File and get out. Because of the risk of the operation, and the nature of the data you're being sent in to get, Weiss and I are going to be your backup in London, on Devlin's orders and at your request.
"We'll be keeping a low profile. We'll be in a van near the area to make sure you don't have any run-ins with anyone else who might know about the file, but unless you are in extreme danger we can't break our cover and help you. And if we were to help, your cover *would* likely get blown in the process."
"How are you going to get the file from me if I can't give it to you? Are you going to be giving me a device to upload the file to? Or arrange for a brush pass at the airport?"
"No on either count. Because chances are, you're probably going to be running like hell from Hartley House. Instead you'll transmit the data to a CIA-issue wireless data-storage device that can receive data transmissions from 50 feet away, located in the CIA van. We'll park a few blocks away…when you get within range of the van transmit the data and keep running right by. Nobody will know that any data got sent or know that we were there to receive it. And…if you were to be caught by Alliance Security Section and we couldn't extract you, we wouldn't want anything linking you to the CIA."
She stills, blinks, and sobers at that realization.
"Syd, what's wrong?"
She looks at him and shakes her head.
"Vaughn, if I get caught, Sloane's going to make sure I never get interrogated by Security Section," she says quietly. "He's going to have gunmen ready to take me out and write me off as an agent gone rogue for revenge for Danny or something."
He shakes his head vigorously.
"Sydney, that's just a worst-case scenario, but it's not going to happen, all right? You've got me and Weiss for backup plus the London field office to tip us off to anything unusual between now and when we arrive. Everything will be fine."
The look on her face and the lack of eye contact tells him he hasn't quite convinced her. He sighs.
"Sydney, we both made it out of Taipei by the skin of our teeth…this mission is going to be a cakewalk in comparison." He looks at her until she meets his gaze. "I promise." She gives him a brief smile. "We'll contact you when you check into your hotel in London and let you know where we will be and how we will communicate with you during your mission."
"All right." She watches him walk past her to the chain link fence and as he does she glimpses a flash of red from the inside of his suit. "What's that you've got in your jacket?"
He stops, turns and looks at her. "What?" He lifts a flap of his suit jacket and she sees a red cloth tucked in the inside pocket. "Oh, uh, this." He pulls it out and it is a red silk hanky, hand-stitched and embroidered. "Remember my Aunt Trish?"
"Crop circles Aunt Trish?" she offers, trying not to stare and smile at how pink his ears are getting.
"Uh yes, the one and the same," he says, a bit self-consciously. "Well, she just sent it to me at work and it arrived today, out of the blue for no reason. She called me and said I would need a good luck charm in the near future. And it would jazz up my wardrobe with a splash of color, as she put it."
"Well, maybe she knows something about this mission that we don't. Take the hanky with you then. It might prove to be good luck."
He rolls his eyes and she smiles at him.
"You know, at this point I'd say good luck to you on your mission but maybe instead I'll just wave this hanky at you and you will be blessed by the good luck fairy goddess, or something," he says dryly, eliciting a laugh from both of them.
She reaches out and quickly squeezes his hand holding the hanky.
"See you in London in about 15 hours."
He nods and watches her disappear down the corridor. He looks down at his hand and is amazed and unsettled that it is still warm and tingly from her touch.
"Yeah," he says softly, to himself. "See you in London."
Notes: See Chapter 1.
[LOS ANGELES – The Warehouse]
She strides quickly through the maze of crates and containers to the area where Vaughn is waiting for her.
She turns the corner and sees him sitting in a foldable chair, reading the contents of a file folder. Hearing her approach, he looks up and puts the folder on a nearby table and gets up to slide the chain link fence to the side to let her in.
"Sorry I'm late, traffic was murder," she says.
"Yeah, I just got here a few minutes ago myself." He looks as tired and rumpled as she feels, and he runs his hand through his hair in a gesture that signals to her that he's agitated about something.
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're doing your running-the-hand-through-the-hair-gesture. You do that when you're nervous about something."
He smiles, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly.
"I am a spy, you know. I'm trained to notice things," she offers, deadpan with an arched eyebrow.
He lets out a half-snort. "You're in a mood today."
"Wouldn't you be if in less than 24 hours everything that you've been working towards was going to be within your grasp?"
"Well, that's why I'm nervous. The CIA received a similarly worded email about the existence of the Alliance Master File hours before SD-6 got theirs. But from a different source. Here."
He passes the file folder to her and she quickly scans the contents of the email.
"So the source you guys use is completely different from SD-6's…so what? Shouldn't the fact that two different, reliable, and independent sources are saying that this file exists be enough proof to go after it?"
He gives her a look that makes her remember the rash declaration she had made to him in the bloodmobile almost a year ago, about shutting down SD-6 in mere months - just before he showed her the SD-6 organizational map.
"Remember Algiers and Denpasar? How we set up the story that there was a second ampule to draw out Khasinau? This is what it reminds me of. Somebody is trying to stir up some trouble by dangling this file in front of SD-6's and CIA's and God knows how many other intelligence agencies' noses. But it's too good of an opportunity to pass up."
"Then what's my countermission going to be?"
"You'll go to Hartley House and perform your mission for SD-6. Get a copy of the Master File and get out. Because of the risk of the operation, and the nature of the data you're being sent in to get, Weiss and I are going to be your backup in London, on Devlin's orders and at your request.
"We'll be keeping a low profile. We'll be in a van near the area to make sure you don't have any run-ins with anyone else who might know about the file, but unless you are in extreme danger we can't break our cover and help you. And if we were to help, your cover *would* likely get blown in the process."
"How are you going to get the file from me if I can't give it to you? Are you going to be giving me a device to upload the file to? Or arrange for a brush pass at the airport?"
"No on either count. Because chances are, you're probably going to be running like hell from Hartley House. Instead you'll transmit the data to a CIA-issue wireless data-storage device that can receive data transmissions from 50 feet away, located in the CIA van. We'll park a few blocks away…when you get within range of the van transmit the data and keep running right by. Nobody will know that any data got sent or know that we were there to receive it. And…if you were to be caught by Alliance Security Section and we couldn't extract you, we wouldn't want anything linking you to the CIA."
She stills, blinks, and sobers at that realization.
"Syd, what's wrong?"
She looks at him and shakes her head.
"Vaughn, if I get caught, Sloane's going to make sure I never get interrogated by Security Section," she says quietly. "He's going to have gunmen ready to take me out and write me off as an agent gone rogue for revenge for Danny or something."
He shakes his head vigorously.
"Sydney, that's just a worst-case scenario, but it's not going to happen, all right? You've got me and Weiss for backup plus the London field office to tip us off to anything unusual between now and when we arrive. Everything will be fine."
The look on her face and the lack of eye contact tells him he hasn't quite convinced her. He sighs.
"Sydney, we both made it out of Taipei by the skin of our teeth…this mission is going to be a cakewalk in comparison." He looks at her until she meets his gaze. "I promise." She gives him a brief smile. "We'll contact you when you check into your hotel in London and let you know where we will be and how we will communicate with you during your mission."
"All right." She watches him walk past her to the chain link fence and as he does she glimpses a flash of red from the inside of his suit. "What's that you've got in your jacket?"
He stops, turns and looks at her. "What?" He lifts a flap of his suit jacket and she sees a red cloth tucked in the inside pocket. "Oh, uh, this." He pulls it out and it is a red silk hanky, hand-stitched and embroidered. "Remember my Aunt Trish?"
"Crop circles Aunt Trish?" she offers, trying not to stare and smile at how pink his ears are getting.
"Uh yes, the one and the same," he says, a bit self-consciously. "Well, she just sent it to me at work and it arrived today, out of the blue for no reason. She called me and said I would need a good luck charm in the near future. And it would jazz up my wardrobe with a splash of color, as she put it."
"Well, maybe she knows something about this mission that we don't. Take the hanky with you then. It might prove to be good luck."
He rolls his eyes and she smiles at him.
"You know, at this point I'd say good luck to you on your mission but maybe instead I'll just wave this hanky at you and you will be blessed by the good luck fairy goddess, or something," he says dryly, eliciting a laugh from both of them.
She reaches out and quickly squeezes his hand holding the hanky.
"See you in London in about 15 hours."
He nods and watches her disappear down the corridor. He looks down at his hand and is amazed and unsettled that it is still warm and tingly from her touch.
"Yeah," he says softly, to himself. "See you in London."