Ring, ring. Jack walked to the desk and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hi, can you tell me what time the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace is?" a familiar voice asked.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, this isn't the concierge's number. But I believe it's around 6:30, maybe 6:33 or so."
"Thank you for telling me," the voice said. "I thought it was 4:15 or something. My mistake. Thanks again!"
The call was disconnected. Five minutes later Jack got off the elevator on the fourth floor and strode down the hallway. He rapped his knuckles on the door. He could hear footsteps approach from the inside, then a pause as someone peered through the peephole.
The door hesitantly opened and Jack hurried inside. "It's about time," he muttered as he glanced around the room. The features were the same, only the decor differed.
"Have you—?" he motioned around the room as he sat at the small table.
Sydney nodded. "All clear. Where's Weiss?" She sat down on the edge of the bed.
"He's coming down in a few minutes. What about Vaughn?" Jack wanted to know.
"He'll be back soon. He just ran down to the bar," she replied as she looked down at her folded hands. "I guess we should wait until they get here, right?"
"That would be logical," he agreed, thinking that he would have to have a talk with Vaughn about the appropriate time to get a drink. The two sat in silence for several minutes. Jack looked around again, noticing that his daughter's suitcase was not the only one in the room. He was about to ask her which room Vaughn was in when she spoke.
"How's Weiss holding up?" Sydney finally asked.
Jack paused, deliberately choosing his words. "He reminds me of you right after Danny was killed," he said honestly. "Dying on the inside, but working his damndest to make sure that the people who did this pay."
She stared at him as a lump filled her throat. "Oh," was all she trusted herself to say.
Father and daughter waited, lost in their own thoughts, for another ten minutes before there was a knock on the door. After looking through the peephole, Sydney swung the door open and Weiss entered the room, bolting the door behind him.
"Hey, Sydney," he said quietly.
"Hey," she answered, reaching up to give him a hug. The two stayed in each other's embrace for a few minutes, much to Jack's dismay. It's not Vaughn she's hugging, it's not Vaughn she's hugging, it's not . . . . Knock, knock.
"I'll get that," Jack said as the two agents disengaged themselves. He drew his gun before looking to see who was behind the door. "Hello," he said as he ushered Vaughn into the room.
Vaughn stared at the revolver and gulped. "Nice to see you too, Jack." he said, handing Sydney the ice bucket and a couple of plastic baggies.
"They didn't have a regular ice bag?"
"No. The Concierge said that we could get one in the shop tomorrow if necessary. For tonight, this will have to do."
Jack looked between them. "Why would Sydney need ice? Did something happen?"
Sydney and Vaughn looked at each other. Here goes nothing, she thought, hoping the explanation they'd come up with on the train would be suitable. "Last night when we were checking out Khasinau's office, I tripped and hit my head. It's no big deal, but it's a little sore, so I asked Vaughn to get me some ice and an ice bag."
"You're sure you're okay?" Jack asked worriedly as he examined the bump on his daughter's forehead. "How could you let this happen?" he demanded, glaring at Vaughn.
Sydney moved between the two men. "It's not Vaughn's fault. Besides, I'm fine, Dad. Really, Vaughn had me checked out and everything. Wouldn't leave me alone until a doctor had seen me."
"You're sure?" he asked again.
She smiled, surprised by the concern in his voice. "Yes."
"Okay then, shall we begin?" he asked the group. Weiss and Vaughn sat on the end of the bed, while Sydney leaned against the table.
"Sark wasn't in Madrid," Weiss spoke up.
"We know," Sydney replied.
"But how do you know?" Weiss asked. "I mean, we didn't find out until earlier today."
"Neither did we," Vaughn said, getting up to retrieve the photos they received at the museum. "But as you can see for yourself, these pictures were taken here, in London, early Monday morning."
"You mean he wasn't in Paris?" Weiss wanted to know.
Sydney shook her head. "Okay, you mean to tell me that Sark was never in Paris or Madrid?"
Jack sighed. "To Sark, this is a game. One long, drawn-out game around the world."
"Like Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" Sydney asked.
"What?"
"Never mind," she muttered.
"We have to try and anticipate Sark's next move," Jack continued. "Will Tippin's life may hang in the balance."
"Why would Sark come here?" Sydney asked.
"Khasinau has a base nearby," Weiss answered. "This is probably where Will was taken."
"Jack, you called this a game," Vaughn said. "What exactly happened in Madrid?"
"We spent several hours tailing a group of men that included two men resembling Sark and Will," Jack reported. "We suspect Sark set this up to throw us off track and therefore buying himself more time."
"And then there was the tape," Weiss muttered.
"Tape?" Sydney asked.
Jack sighed. "The next morning we received a video from Sark."
"What was on it, sir?"
Jack glanced at Weiss. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a video cassette. "You can see for yourselves."
Sydney glanced around the room. "But the room doesn't have a—" Knock, knock.
"Who else knows you're here?" Vaughn murmured, moving to Sydney's side as she cautiously walked towards the door. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly for a moment.
"I know how to take care of myself," she retorted as she warily checked to see who was on the other side of the door. Her worried expression cleared as she hissed, "It's the man who checked us into the hotel. All of you," indicating her three guests, "move!"
Jack, Vaughn, and Weiss quickly crept into the bathroom. "Why is this situation just really uncomfortable?" Weiss whispered.
"Think of it as if you were in a locker room." At the horrified look she saw on the faces of all three men, she sighed. "Just deal with it," Sydney answered, closing the door as a second series of knocks were heard. Unlocking the door, she twisted the doorknob. "Hello!" she said cheerfully to the hotel employee.
Vaughn leaned against the door, trying to hear what was happening on the other side. He felt someone tapping his shoulder, but ignored it, listening to the conversation Sydney was having.
"I'm sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, miss," the man answered. "This package just arrived for you. It says 'Urgent,' so I thought I would go ahead and deliver it myself."
"Mr. Vaughn."
"What?" Vaughn whispered angrily as he turned around.
Jack cocked his head to the side. "I just wondered if you could explain why your suitcase is in my daughter's room."
Vaughn rolled his eyes. Sydney was on the other side of that door alone and Jack was worried about where his room was? "You have got to be kidding me."
Weiss sat down on the edge of the bathtub, enjoying the show.
"Actually, Mr. Vaughn, I'm not. I would like an answer."
"For Christ sake, Jack. I'm staying in room 422. And before you ask, the reason my suitcase is here is because when I came up, my card key didn't work. So, Sydney brought my bag in here while I went down to get a new one and to get her some ice from the bar. Happy?" he asked sarcastically before turning his ear back to the door.
"Thank you so much," Sydney answered sweetly as she reached for the large box. "Let me just get my purse—"
"That's not necessary, ma'am," the employee said.
"Have a good evening."
Vaughn heard Sydney close the door. "He's gone," he told the other two men.
"All clear," she said quietly at the bathroom door. The three men emerged from the bathroom.
"Did that man say a package?" Jack asked.
Sydney nodded and pointed to the box. "It's addressed to Meghan Stratford," she said as her voice trembled. "Who knows that I'm here?"
Jack removed his pocketknife and moved towards the box. "Let's find out." With one swift motion, the box was open. There, nestled underneath mounds of packing material, was a smaller box. Jack lifted the smaller box and held it to his ear. "I don't think it's a bomb," he said finally.
"Well, isn't that a relief," Vaughn muttered to Sydney. She briefly smiled.
"Well?" Weiss said. "Are we going to open it or not?"
Jack looked at Sydney. "You can do the honors," she said. He lifted the flaps and peered inside. "Impossible," he said under his breath. "Sydney, are you sure the room is all clear?"
"Positive," she answered. "Why?"
He lifted an envelope and a VCR out of the box.
"How the hell?" Vaughn wanted to know.
"I think you should read this," Jack said to his daughter. He passed her the envelope. "SYDNEY" was written across the center of the envelope in large, red letters.
She carefully opened the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper. She read aloud.
Sydney,
I hope you and your "friend" enjoyed your trip in Paris. Kindly give your father and Mr. Weiss my regards. Enclosed you will find something that can help you view a souvenir of my most recent trip to Los Angeles. I'm sure you will like it. I'll be sure to tell your friend Will hello for you. He's enjoying himself immensely, I can assure you. Until we meet again.
The note was unsigned.
"Sark," the four agents said in unison.
********
"So what's on this video anyway?" Sydney asked as Vaughn hooked up the VCR.
"You can see for yourselves in a few minutes," was her father's cryptic response. She rolled her eyes. The more things change . . . Vaughn stood up.
"Ready to go," he said. Weiss walked over to the VCR and tried to push the video in. "Weird," he said as he removed the tape.
"What?" Vaughn asked.
"What's wrong?" Sydney asked as she stood and went to where Weiss was standing.
"Helps if you put the damn thing in the right way," Weiss muttered as he flipped the tape over and inserted it in the VCR.
Jack sat down on the couch, placing the box next to him. As he did, he heard something rattling around in the bottom. Pulling the styrofoam out of the box, Jack's heart lurched when he saw what remained. He picked them up carefully.
"Dad, where did you get those keys?"
Jack looked over at Weiss, who was standing frozen by the VCR, his hand hovering next to the "PLAY" button. "Keys?" he asked as he slowly moved to look at what Sydney was now holding in her hands.
"Yeah," Sydney answered, holding them up for Weiss to see. "Looks like an ordinary set of keys to me."
Weiss held out his hand and Sydney dropped the ring into his outstretched palm. Closing his hand over them, feeling the keys' jagged edges biting into his skin, he walked over to the window and stared outside, fighting for control.
"Eric?" Vaughn called to his friend.
"Leave him be," Jack stated as he stood up and walked quickly to the VCR. "You'll understand in a few minutes," he said tersely as the screen went black.
********
Sydney couldn't move. She was having a hard enough time trying to remember to breathe. What she, what they, had just seen had been a nightmare. It couldn't be true...
She looked over at her father, tears swimming in her eyes. "But... But... That can't be... It just isn't... Dad?"
Jack walked over and sat next to his daughter, taking her hand in his own. "I know, honey."
Sydney felt like she had been punched. How could this be true? It can't be true. I just know it, she thought. But then she looked over at Weiss, and then she turned her gaze to Vaughn before finally turning back to her father. Even knowing all the horrible things her mother had done in the past, she still couldn't fathom how or why. "How could she?"
"Sydney, we've known for some time that chances were good that your mother was alive. We learned that at one time, she worked for Khasinau. It only makes sense that she would still be working for him."
"But... But why would she do this? Why?" she pleaded.
"I don't know," Jack answered as he pulled his daughter to him, tightening his embrace as her tears began to flow.
Vaughn looked at the scene on the couch. And then he looked at his friend standing at the window, still clutching the keys in his hand.
As he continued to watch Eric, Vaughn noticed that there was something dripping from his hand. Realizing what it was, he quickly disappeared into the bathroom. He ran some cold water over a cloth and returned to the living room.
"Here." He handed Weiss the cold, damp cloth.
"What?"
"Your hand."
Weiss looked down, shocked to find blood. He took the wash cloth, cleaning his hand. "Thanks." He handed it back to Vaughn as he started for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't think we are going to get much accomplished tonight. I'm going back to my room." Right, and on the way to my room, I'm going to stop in the bar, he thought as he reached the door.
Vaughn watched as Weiss left the room. Locking the door behind him, he returned to the sitting area, his eyes coming to rest on Sydney.
He shifted them quickly, not able to see her in so much pain. But then his eyes caught sight of the snowy TV screen. And he remembered the way Sydney's mother had just stabbed Zoe with the syringe.
Seeing her do that made him wonder if that was her forte, her modus operandi, her signature. And then he wondered if that was how she had killed his father.
He walked over to the television and turned it off. He reached down and hit the "STOP" button on the VCR. And then he slowly walked over and grabbed his suitcase.
Looking at Jack, he just tilted his head in the direction of the door. Jack just looked at him as he tightened his arms around his sobbing daughter. Vaughn was about to turn away when he saw Jack mouthing something to him.
Vaughn nodded and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. As he walked down to his room, he was still stunned by the fact that Jack Bristow, the same Jack Bristow who had not two days before been warning him to stay away from his daughter, had actually thanked him.
Entering his room, he didn't turn on the light. He just dropped his suitcase by the door, tossed the card key on the dresser, and wandered over to the window as he tried not to think about how one woman could wreak so much havoc on so many lives.