Loud, pulsating music rang in Weiss's ears as he and Jack entered the nightclub ten minutes later. The bar was to the left, the dance floor straight ahead, and what looked like the makings of a brawl was forming to the right. Without a word Weiss led them to the bar.
After the bartender returned with their drinks, Weiss nudged Jack's shoulder. "I think I'm gonna check out the dance floor," he said loudly over the din of voices. He shot a meaningful glance at a corner of the dance floor near Sark's table.
"All right, Nicholas. I'll stay here," Ian answered, "and make sure the ladies don't attack you all at once."
Weiss looked at him, confused for a second. Then he remembered the gun Jack was carrying and nodded.
"Hasta luego," he said as he walked away, his drink in his left hand.
Weiss slowly walked through the nightclub, sipping his drink. I'm going to kill the bastard, he thought as he glanced at Sark's table.
He leaned against a support beam and sighed. Ow! That hurts, he thought as he gingerly touched his neck. There must be a loose nail or something . . .
. . . "Ow!" Weiss said.
"What's wrong?" Agent Brown asked.
"I think I hit my head on the beam," he answered.
"Must have had too much to drink," Agent Jackson said with a grin as he passed a shot glass to Weiss.
"Well, if that's your worst injury while in Spain, I think you're doing well," Brown retorted, watching Weiss empty the glass of its contents.
"Yeah, yeah. So, this is the place to see and be seen?" Weiss asked, changing the subject.
"All of Calle Huertas is, but we like this club in particular because of all the American women," Jackson said.
"Yeah, this is the club that lots of tourists frequent, celebrating their trip across the ocean and whatnot. We're just their official welcoming committee," Brown said with a leer.
"How can you tell who's American in here when there's so many people?" Weiss asked, glancing around the crowded room.
"Well, the loud singing is usually a good indicator," Brown answered, nodding towards a group in the corner boisterously singing "Celito Lindo."
Weiss sighed, wondering how he could get rid of these two jackasses when he felt a tapping on his shoulder.
"What--?" he was cut off when a woman vaulted herself at him and began to passionately kiss him. All coherent thought left his brain as his glimpse of this woman registered in his brain.
"Zoe!" Weiss exclaimed when the two finally separated. He lifted her off the ground and crushed her against his chest. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here," he heard her say, muffled against him. He let her pull back slightly and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, tapping one finger against his chest.
"Working, believe it or not," he grinned.
"As a bartender? Are you new?" she asked, puzzled.
Weiss laughed outright. "Wow, it has been a long time, hasn't it?"
"Almost nine years," Zoe replied as she looked him in the eye. "Nine years."
"Zoe, it is so good to see you again," he repeated.
"Weiss? Would you like to introduce us?" he heard Brown and Jackson asking behind him.
Weiss grimaced and quickly made introductions. "Zoe and I have a lot of catching up to do," he told his colleagues. "I think I'll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?"
Jackson winked knowingly at him. "Have fun," he said. He and Brown walked away.
Weiss smiled at Zoe. "Shall we?"
"Actually, no. I can't."
"What? Why not?"
Zoe sighed. "Do you see that group of bumbling idiots over there?" She pointed at the "Celito Lindo" group. "I'm responsible for them."
"Your friends?"
"No. My students. I'm the university rep for study abroad programs," she said. "And right now, I'm ready to kill them for getting plastered."
He brushed a loose strand of hair off her forehead. "How about I help you get them back to wherever they're staying, and then we can catch up?"
"Are you sure you want to?" Zoe asked doubtfully.
"Trust me, I've been around my share of drunk people. I can handle it," Weiss answered with a laugh.
"Not that. Are you sure you want to catch up? I mean, you're the one who left in the first place," she said as her lower lip trembled.
He pulled her to him in a long hug before answering, "And I've regretted that decision every day for the last nine years."
Weiss stroked her hair as he found himself leaning against the beam again. The nail began to dig into his neck, but he ignored the jabbing.
"Nicholas. Nicholas!" Weiss blinked, finally noticing Jack standing in front of him.
"What?"
"They're leaving," Jack said quietly.
"Leaving?" Weiss echoed. He turned his head towards Sark's table. It was empty.
"Dammit!" he cursed as Jack exited the club. He quickly followed behind him.
"What were you doing?" Jack asked in a low tone as Weiss shut the door of the club. "If I hadn't been watching, we would have lost them entirely."
"Sorry," he muttered. "I was . . . somewhere else."
"Obviously," Jack said dryly. He hailed a taxi and opened the door. "After you."
********
Vaughn waited anxiously outside a cafe for René to arrive. It was approaching 10:30 when the man for whom he'd been waiting finally approached.
"Sorry," René apologized as he took a seat across from Vaughn. "Car trouble."
"Do you have something for me?"
"Hey, how ya doin'? I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"René..."
René looked around before turning his attention back to Vaughn. "Yeah, I've got what you asked for," he started. "But before I hand it over, I want to know what's going on."
"I can't tell you."
That one sentence told René all he needed to know. "Do you need any help?"
Vaughn shook his head. "Thanks, but no."
"Okay." He handed Vaughn a book. "I don't think you've read this one lately."
Vaughn accepted it gratefully. "No, I haven't." He flipped the book over, pretending to read the cover. Looking back up at his friend, he said, "I really need to go."
"Yeah, but Mike..."
"What?"
"Next time you're in town, you owe me a beer."
Vaughn smiled briefly. Standing, he patted his friend's shoulder as he walked away from the table. He slipped into the alley next to the cafe, pulling the gun from its resting place inside the hollowed out book.
Shoving the gun in his pocket, he deposited the book in one of the many trash cans that lined the street as he quickly covered the two blocks between the cafe and Khasinau's club. Sydney had been gone, as far as he knew, for over four hours.
He pushed the thought from his mind, focusing on finding a way inside the darkened building instead. The third door he found was unlocked, or, more accurately, the lock had been picked. Pulling his gun, he opened the door, stepping inside quickly.
Vaughn waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he began a careful search of the club. From Sydney's debriefing, he had a general idea of the location of Khasinau's office.
Where are the guards? he wondered as he moved slowly up the stairs. He was on the second floor landing when he saw a small stream of light coming from underneath the door at the far end of the hall.
He held still, watching as the light continued to shine unwaveringly. Vaughn quietly walked down the hall. When he reached the door, he heard a noise, a low moan, from inside.
He broke through the door without thinking, searching the room for the woman who'd uttered the sound he'd just heard. Frantically searching the room, his eyes finally came to rest on a barely-conscious Sydney Bristow.
********
"Vaughn?" She looked around the room still dazed. "What happened?"
"I was hoping you could tell me. Can you stand up?" he asked as he stood, holding out his hand.
Sydney shook her head gently, trying to clear the cobwebs from her mind. Grasping his hand, she pulled herself up. She leaned back into the corner for support when the room started to spin.
"Syd?"
"Stood up too fast," she explained.
Vaughn kept his hands on her shoulders, trying to help keep her balanced. When she tried to lean down to retrieve her flashlight, he had to grab her to keep her from falling. "Hey," he said as he pushed her back against the wall, "I'll get it. You just stay put."
As he moved away, she grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute."
"What?"
Sydney walked around him, using him for balance. Pointing to the floor, she looked back at him. "The floorboard is loose there. I tripped on it when I came in. Must have hit my head on the corner of the desk."
He followed to where she was pointing and saw the board in question. He walked carefully around it and retrieved the flashlight.
He crouched down next to the board, shining the light all around it to see if there was something underneath. Satisfied that the floor there was just uneven, he stood, handing the light back to Sydney. "Did you have a chance to look around before you fell?"
"Not in here. I did check the other offices though. Didn't find anything. Not even any guards."
Weird... "Okay, let's look around and get out of here."
"Sounds good to me," Sydney answered as she moved slowly around the desk.
Sydney searched the desk while Vaughn looked around the rest of the room. After a couple of minutes, he went over to the desk. "Find anything?"
"Maybe," she answered.
"What is it?"
"It's an address. Looks like Khasinau is going to be meeting someone there tomorrow at 2."
This is too easy, Vaughn thought as he took the paper from her, shoving it in his pocket. "Let's go."
They exited the room, working their way quietly back down the hall. They were almost to the door when they heard a noise from the back of the building. "Come on," Vaughn whispered as he pulled Sydney back outside, her hand firmly grasped in his own.
He led her back down the alley towards the street. Just as he was about to go around the corner, he heard someone approaching. Taking a quick step back, he turned, pushing Sydney back against the closest wall.
"What's wrong?" she managed to get out a moment before his lips captured hers in a hard, demanding kiss. Her initial shock soon gave way to understanding as she saw a man step up behind them. Deciding two could play this game, she snaked her hands around his waist, pulling him closer while she deepened the kiss.
"Excuse me. You folks wanna move it back to the hotel?" a guard smirked after watching them for a minute. "This area is off limits."
Vaughn pulled back, breathless, his finger slowly running down the side of Sydney's cheek. He looked back at the guard, "Sorry, just couldn't help myself," he replied as leaned back in, nipping playfully at her lower lip.
The guard took a good look at Sydney, leering at her. "I can't say as I blame you."
Sydney's grip on Vaughn's hand tightened. Drawing her to his side, Vaughn draped his arm casually around her shoulder. "Maybe he's right. We should go back to the hotel, don't you agree, honey?"
Sydney nodded silently, not trusting her voice. Vaughn smiled back at the guard. "Sorry for the trouble. We really didn't mean any harm."
The guard just looked at them. "Just get going."
"Thanks." Vaughn led her out of the alley. He wrapped his arm protectively around her waist and pulled her closer to him, kissing her cheek as they walked quickly past the club.
The guard watched as they made their way up the street. Shaking his head, he turned to greet a man walking towards him. "Did you get that?"
A lecherous smile crossed his companion's face. "Oh yeah. Did they find the note?"
The guard glanced back up the street. "Oh yeah."
********
Vaughn didn't release his hold on Sydney until the reached the cafe where he'd met René less than an hour before. He pulled out a chair for her. "I'm going to go inside and call a cab. Sit," he ordered. "And don't move."
Sydney nodded. He was almost inside when she called him back to the table. "Can you get me something to drink?"
"Sure."
She leaned back in the chair. Her head was starting to throb. Reaching up, she was feeling around for a bump when Vaughn returned. He handed her the water. "The cab will be here in a few minutes. Are you okay?" his worry evident in his tone.
"I've got a little bit of a headache, that's all."
Vaughn studied her quietly. She'd scared the hell out of him and he wasn't going to let it pass, but he wasn't prepared to get into it with her in a busy outdoor cafe. "Maybe we should have you see the hotel doctor."
"Really, Vau...," not Vaughn, she reminded herself. "Sebastien, it's no big deal."
Vaughn saw the cab pull up to the curb. He walked over. The driver leaned over to the passenger side of the car. Lowering the window, he asked "M. Harcourt?"
"Oui, c'est moi." He went back to the table, holding out his hand to Sydney. "Shall we?"
Sydney placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to the cab. She settled herself as Vaughn gave the driver the address.
********
"I don't believe it," Weiss groaned as he entered the hotel room two hours later. "Paseo de la Castellana, Pacha, Gran Via . . . and it wasn't them." Dejected, he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, wishing that this nightmare would end.
"Keep your voice down," Jack warned as he quickly checked for bugs. Satisfied, he sat down in the chair next to the window. "Obviously, the intel from Devlin was faulty, and it was just a group of people who looked similar to Tippin and Sark."
"Or was it?" Weiss sat up suddenly.
"What?"
"Was it faulty intel--or was this part of Sark's plan?" Weiss asked angrily.
"Send a group here that would include two people resembling himself and Tippin, to throw us off the trail," Jack said slowly. He thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "It's possible."
"We need to call L.A. and let them know what we found out," Weiss said, rubbing his eyes. "I'll make the call." He stood up and walked over to his suitcase, removing the secure phone he'd been given in Newark.
"Hello? Hi, Mr. Davenport . . . Yes, it's Weiss here. Well, we followed up on your intel. Yes, we did. Yes, sir. Well, we have bad news. It wasn't them. Yes, we're positive. Saw it with our own eyes . . . they look similar, but it's not them. Just a group of friends traveling from the States." Weiss rolled his eyes and moved the phone slightly away from his ear.
"Ask him if he's heard from Paris," Jack mouthed to him.
Weiss nodded.
"What? Photos from the airport? Oh, okay. Well, that's fine. We'll still be in the hotel, I guess," he said as he shrugged his shoulders at Jack. "Okay, we'll review the photos and get back to you. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. All right. Okay, good--"
"Paris!" Jack exclaimed.
"Oh, right. Um, have you heard anything from Paris?"
Weiss listened for a few minutes. "Yeah . . . yeah . . . uh huh. Anything else? Okay. Will do. 'Bye."
"Well?" Jack asked as Weiss hung up the phone.
"They landed safely," Weiss said lamely.
"What?"
"They landed safely," Weiss repeated. "That's all he was able to tell me. Oh, and they've checked into their hotel using their aliases. But that's all he said."
"Do you mean to tell me that he said nothing regarding their investigation?"
"Just that they hadn't reported in with any information," Weiss said nervously. Jack is not a happy camper, he thought to himself.
"So, as far as we know, we've come to a dead end, and they haven't found anything worth reporting." Jack sighed.
"Um, yeah. Oh, Davenport said he's going to send in photos off the surveillance tape at the airport for us to look at to verify that Sark didn't land here," Weiss said.
"Fine. Why don't we call it a night?" Jack suggested. "Unless we receive the photos, why don't we plan to meet in six hours?"
Weiss looked at his watch, calculating the time, and shrugged. "Works for me," he said.
"I'll see you then," Jack said, then left the room.
********
"I really appreciate your coming up," Vaughn said gratefully as he showed the doctor to the door.
"That's what I'm here for," the doctor kindly answered. "Now, you need to make sure that your young lady stays quiet and gets some rest. The aspirin should take care of her headache, but if she complains of it getting worse, or nausea, or you can't wake her, call me immediately," he finished, handing Vaughn his card.
Vaughn nodded. "Thanks again."
"You're welcome."
Vaughn watched as the middle-aged man walked down the hall to the stairs. He closed the door quietly and went back into the room. When he found Sydney sitting on the couch, he lost it.
"What the hell do you think you're doing out of that bed?"
"Sitting on the couch," she replied defiantly.
"Like hell you are," he swore, grabbing her by the wrists and dragging her back to the bed and sitting her down carefully. He sat down next to her. "Sydney..."
Great... Not Syd, she thought, but Sydney. She looked over at him to find him staring at the floor, muttering words she couldn't hear. "What?"
He lifted his gaze. "Don't you EVER do that again!" he stated angrily.
It wasn't like she didn't know what he was referring to, but she just couldn't say she was sorry. Not yet. "Do what?"
Vaughn's mouth fell open as his face contorted in anger. He forgot about being gentle and grabbed her roughly, shaking her. "DON'T YOU EVER GO SNEAKING OFF ALONE LIKE THAT AGAIN!" Abruptly, he released her and got up, walking over to the windows.
Sydney sat on the bed, stunned by his actions. I didn't mean for this to happen... "Vaughn..." she began softly.
He turned back to face her. "What?"
She looked at him for a moment before shifting her gaze to the floor. To hell with not apologizing. "I'm sorry."
He exhaled loudly. He walked over to the bed and sat back down. "You scared me."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
"Vaughn..."
He placed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "No, Sydney, you don't know. With everything that has happened in the last two days, when I didn't find you downstairs, I got scared."
She opened her mouth to speak but he just shook his head, "Let me finish." He watched as she silently agreed before continuing.
"When the desk clerk said that he saw you leave three hours earlier, I didn't know what to think. At first, I thought maybe you went for a walk or something. You know, maybe you did do what your note said."
He paused briefly and went to the desk, returning with the note. "But I knew that it wouldn't take you three hours to find a place to eat, even if you were mad at me."
"Mad..."
Again he cut her off. "Yes, mad. But even if you were mad, I knew, I knew, that you would have been back by the time I had planned on being up."
Sydney looked away, his pained expression and the worry in his voice tearing at her.
"Syd, look at me. Please."
She looked back at him, tears forming in her eyes. She was surprised to see tears in his as well.
"I came back up here and that's when I realized I didn't even have a gun. Neither did you. And I did something I shouldn't have."
"What?"
"I called a friend. Someone I knew I could trust. But see, even then I had to wait for him to meet me. And if something would have happened to you... If you'd been hurt, I mean seriously injured, I might have been too late."
Sydney reached over, placing her hand over Vaughn's. "But I'm fine."
Vaughn got up quickly, walking back to the windows. "No, you aren't. Because you went off by yourself, you got hurt. Damn it, Syd! I was worried. And then when I found you, lying on that floor..."
She didn't care that he was probably going to yell at her for getting up. "Vaughn, really, I'm ok. You found me," she replied, trying to reassure him.
"But what if I hadn't?" he asked softly. "What if I had gotten there fifteen minutes later? Those guards who were patrolling the building would have found you. And then we'd be looking for you as well. Or maybe we wouldn't have had to."
Sydney looked away briefly after he said that. She hadn't been thinking clearly when she'd stormed off to Khasinau's club. He was right, she'd been mad and she'd been blinded by that anger, blinded by everything that had happened since they'd gotten on the plane at Newark.
She turned back to face him and found him staring out the window. She closed the small gap between them, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."
I could have lost you... Vaughn tightened his embrace. Jack Bristow and his warning be damned. He slowly pulled back and grasped her hand in his, leading her to the bed.
He pulled the covers back and sat her down. "Shoes, off," he ordered.
She smiled up at him. "Yes, sir," she replied, offering him a mock salute.
He just rolled his eyes. "Lie down."
Sydney pulled her legs up on to the bed and watched as he pulled the covers over her, tucking them under the edge of the bed. She couldn't move. "Vaughn," she whined.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"I can't move."
A huge grin flashed across his face. "I know."
She looked at him, a wicked smile spreading slowly across her face. "You honestly think this will stop me from getting up? The other side isn't tucked in."
"You know, you're right. That probably wouldn't be a very effective way of making sure you stay put."
He walked over to the couch to retrieve the pillow and blanket she'd left there earlier.
He moved back to the other side of the bed, dropping the pillow on top of it. Sydney just watched him, wondering what he was going to do.
She found out quickly as he laid down on top of the comforter, pulling the blanket he'd gotten off the couch around him.
The sheets and blankets were pulled even tighter against her. "Vaughn, I can't move."
"I know."
"No, I mean I really can't move."
He rolled on to his side and watched her struggle to get free. "Do you promise not to go anywhere?"
She sighed. "Yes."
"Do you promise to get some sleep?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes."
"Okay," he said as he got up. Walking around to the other side, he pulled the blankets from under the bed. "That better?"
Sydney breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes."
"Good." He went back to the other side and grabbed the blanket and pillow and moved over to the couch.
She sat up quickly, her head throbbing in protest at the sudden movement. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to try and get some sleep."
She started to get up, but quickly changed her mind when she saw his feet hit the floor. "Vaughn, let me sleep on the couch."
"Nope, you got hurt, you get the bed."
"So if you were the one who was hurt, you'd be over here?"
"Good night, Sydney." He reached out and turned off the lamp on the desk.
"Well, maybe..."
"Don't even think about it, Bristow. Just close your eyes and get some sleep."
Sydney pouted for a minute. Lying back down when she saw Vaughn wasn't going to budge, she rolled over to turn off the light next to her. "Night, Vaughn."
He let out an exasperated sigh as he turned on his side, praying for sleep. "Good night, Syd."
"Oh and thanks."
Vaughn turned over yet again, the couch squeaking in protest. "For what?"
"Finding me."
********