Chapter 11
Vaughn was scared awake by the loud ringing of his telephone. He glanced over at his alarm clock. Who would be calling me at 2:30 in the morning? He snatched up the phone and impatiently growled his greeting.
"Uhh...Is this Michael Vaughn?"
I swear, if this is a salesman... "Yes..."
"I-I'm calling about Sydney. I was just wondering--"
"Who is this?"
"Will. Will Tippin."
Vaughn mentally groaned. What is he thinking? "I'm sorry, I think you've got the wrong Michael Vaughn. I don't know you or your Sydney Bristow."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" He hung up the phone, more than a little disturbed that Will had been stupid enough to call him. We should have put that man in witness protection. He's going to be nothing but trouble!
******
~Sloane's Office~
"Sir?"
"Yes?" Sloane looked up to see the head of security standing at his door.
"That reporter--Will Tippin?--he made a phone call to a... Michael Vaughn." Sloane simply stared at the man and waited for him to continue. "He asked about Miss Bristow. The guy said he didn't know any Sydney Bristow. Tippin only supplied her first name."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Well sir, we checked him out...he's CIA. If he and Bristow are acquainted it's possible that..."
"Yes, I see where you're going with this. Follow her. See who she talks to." The man nodded and turned to exit the office. "Oh, by the way, how's Jack?"
"The medical report said that the wound was minor. It was caused by glass from the Bristows' car crash."
"Thank you."
*******
~The next day~
It was about 6:00 p.m. when Sydney got home from work. She'd only been in the house long enough to grab a bottle of water before the phone rang. She picked up the phone and rolled her eyes. "Hello?"
"Joey's Pizza?"
"Sorry, wrong number."
She hung up the phone and groaned as she snatched up her keys and made her way to her car. She was so tired that she didn't notice the car that followed her all the way to the warehouse.
Vaughn was scared awake by the loud ringing of his telephone. He glanced over at his alarm clock. Who would be calling me at 2:30 in the morning? He snatched up the phone and impatiently growled his greeting.
"Uhh...Is this Michael Vaughn?"
I swear, if this is a salesman... "Yes..."
"I-I'm calling about Sydney. I was just wondering--"
"Who is this?"
"Will. Will Tippin."
Vaughn mentally groaned. What is he thinking? "I'm sorry, I think you've got the wrong Michael Vaughn. I don't know you or your Sydney Bristow."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" He hung up the phone, more than a little disturbed that Will had been stupid enough to call him. We should have put that man in witness protection. He's going to be nothing but trouble!
******
~Sloane's Office~
"Sir?"
"Yes?" Sloane looked up to see the head of security standing at his door.
"That reporter--Will Tippin?--he made a phone call to a... Michael Vaughn." Sloane simply stared at the man and waited for him to continue. "He asked about Miss Bristow. The guy said he didn't know any Sydney Bristow. Tippin only supplied her first name."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Well sir, we checked him out...he's CIA. If he and Bristow are acquainted it's possible that..."
"Yes, I see where you're going with this. Follow her. See who she talks to." The man nodded and turned to exit the office. "Oh, by the way, how's Jack?"
"The medical report said that the wound was minor. It was caused by glass from the Bristows' car crash."
"Thank you."
*******
~The next day~
It was about 6:00 p.m. when Sydney got home from work. She'd only been in the house long enough to grab a bottle of water before the phone rang. She picked up the phone and rolled her eyes. "Hello?"
"Joey's Pizza?"
"Sorry, wrong number."
She hung up the phone and groaned as she snatched up her keys and made her way to her car. She was so tired that she didn't notice the car that followed her all the way to the warehouse.