Chapter Five: Alliances Made
A/N: Sorry for the long delay, but I was having major writer's block. Every weekend I would promise myself to update, and every weekend I would avoid it. Time to face the music.
I got some reviews a week ago and it seems like a lot of people think that Vaughn is dead and that I've ended my story. Uuummm…that's not quite the ending I had planned so keep on reading.
Before I forget, thanks to all the people who replied to my plea of help. I don't think I incorporated any of your suggestions into this chapter, but you gave me the motivation to keep writing.
*Francie's POV *
I was a complete wreck. I hadn't slept in three days, days that had passed by quickly, punctuated with terrifying calls from the anonymous tormentor (which I ignored), each day meaning only one thing to me: the chances that Will and Sydney were alive were dwindling still further. All my ambitions in life were gone; I barely ate, showered only when I couldn't stand the lack of hygiene anymore, and rarely thought about my restaurant, which had been my dream for God knows how long. The only thing that was always continuously present in my mind was the thought of the stranger who kept calling me. It was my one connection to my friends—he at least CLAIMED that he knew Sydney, and desperation drove me to my decision.
The next time he called, I wouldn't hang up. I HAD to listen and do whatever was necessary in order to get my friends back, even if that meant turning a blind eye to the fact that I didn't know if the guy was actually trying to help, or if he was trying to get me killed as well.
The phone rang, a shrill sound that punctured my reverie; my immediate reaction was to grab the receiver and jam it to my ear.
"Hello, hello?? HELLO?"
No reply.
Then, the fax machine attached to my phone beeped.
So it hadn't been the stranger contacting me after all. Letting out a whoosh of disappointment, I turned to the paper that was slowly inching out of the fax, fully expecting another one of those stupid advertisements.
But instead of an annoying ad, I made out the lines of a curious map. The paper seemed to be divided into two portions; the first part was a map of a city, and on the other side was printed a map of the inside of a large building.
Dismissing it as a random incident, I settled back onto the bed and didn't even notice when the paper slid onto the floor.
It was not long before the phone rang a second time; this time the sound seemed more urgent and insistent, but that was probably my own anticipation.
After letting it ring a couple of times (I didn't want the stranger to think I cared too much about what he said), I allowed myself to pick up the receiver again.
"Hello, Francie." his usual, chilling greeting; this time I wasn't even given the chance to say hello first.
"I'm willing to listen to whatever you have to say. Just give me my friend back." I had agonized over these words the entire day, but even after rehearsing them a hundred times, they refused to come out the way I wanted them to-instead of sounding indifferent and tough, I sounded wimpy and frantic.
He let out a little laugh, perhaps mocking my inferiority in the situation, or maybe just asserting the fact that he was in control.
"I knew you'd come around."
"There's really not much I can tell you…everything I told you last time was true. Of course…I do know where Sydney is as of this moment. You probably wouldn't be interested in my opinion, though, judging by the way you threatened me the last time we…talked."
"Are you looking to get your ass kicked?! Just tell me where the hell she is!" My pent-up frustration from the previous days spewed out; the phone in my hand actually vibrated from the sound.
"Touchy, touchy. Well, since you want to know so badly, Sydney is currently being…kept, shall we say, at a safe house in Taipei."
"Did you get my fax?" he abruptly changed the subject.
"That was your fax?" I snapped, trying desperately to hide the surprise and fear that I felt. "How did you know I had a fax machine?" I demanded.
"I've been watching you for a while. But never mind about that." He waved aside the subject.
A new fear arose in my heart. Who was this man, who seemed to know everything about my life, even down to the electronics I owned? Could I really put myself at his mercy? Yes, I could. I had to do it for Sydney.
"You will need that fax to locate Sydney," the deep throat broke the tense silence. "The top map illustrates the exact place where she is being held in Taipei, and the bottom is a sketch of the interior of the safe house."
"The building is heavily guarded, and difficult to get into. Here's what you need to know…
Ten minutes later, I hung up, having obtained all the information I needed, or so I believed.
Grabbing the phone again, I dialed my travel agent's number.
"Hello? Mr. Greenleaf? Yes, I know it's late and I'm really sorry, but I have an emergency. Can you book me a ticket to Taipei within the next ten hours? I'll be willing to pay whatever price you can wrangle. Thank you very much. Bye-bye."
I had secured a speedy passage to Taipei; now all I needed to do was find a way to bust into a high-security safe house and rescue Sydney. Despite my extreme nervousness, I couldn't help feeling the tiniest hint of excitement; I've always had a secret desire to be a spy.
Sydney squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut as flecks of blood stained her clothing.
Vaughn's blood.
Knowing that she would have to confront the scene sooner or later, she lifted an eyelid, hardly daring to breathe.
And the sight she was met with was the most gratifying she had ever experienced.
Vaughn had indeed been shot, but it was only a shoulder wound, not a fatal one.
The only person who had really been hurt was her mother, who was sprawled face down in the middle of the room where she had only seconds later been standing. Blood gushed from a deep bullet hole in her upper back (near her heart), pouring out of her body and flowing freely onto the warehouse floor, running in little rivulets, then joining together in blossoming puddles. Dead.
And the sad thing was, the only emotion Sydney felt was disgust.
No sympathy. No tears.
Turning her attention away from the gruesome sight, she focused her vision on the man she now found she owed her life to.
Alexander Khasinau, the man who she had once believed to be one of her enemies, avoided Sydney's eyes as he rushed over to untie Vaughn.
After years of working under Irina Derevko, he was incredibly wary of all people, sensitive to event he slightest stare or sudden movement. You could even say that he was a coward, except for the undeniable fact that, when he had to, he would do anything necessary to get what he wanted. Including murder.
Vaughn let out a small whimper when Khasinau started undoing his bonds. Although he was far from dying, the wound in his shoulder was obviously deep and painful; Khasinau's prodding was agitating the injury.
"Who are you?" Vaughn questioned.
"Alexander Khasinau, a servant of the United States of America, at your service."
"So you weren't lying when you sent me that no--"
"No, I wasn't bluffing. It's unfortunate that you didn't believe me, and the situation came to this. The shoulder wound wasn't necessary, you know." Khasinau fell silent again after this sudden interjection.
Moments later, Vaughn was free. He instinctively grasped his shoulder, trying to alleviate some of the throbbing pain.
"Don't touch that; you'll only make it worse." Khasinau studied the wound through narrowed eyes.
He strode over to Sydney and without hesitation bent down, took a key out of his pocket, and unlocked the chains holding her hands prisoner.
Helping her up, his face reflected the slightest smile.
"Let's get the hell outta here."
Taking two guns out of his inside breast pocket, Khasinau almost carelessly tossed one to Sydney and one to Vaughn, who had to strain to catch it.
Soundlessly, the three walked to the door pushed it open, praying against any creak that might arouse the attention of guards. Hearing none, and seeing no one in the immediate hallway, they stepped out of the room, leaving Irina alone in the gloom of the chamber.
Khasinau, Sydney, and Vaughn were each so caught up in their own thoughts and rush of adrenaline as they slipped through the opening that all three failed to notice Derevko's right hand twitch. Khasinau's bullet had hit her in the shoulder as well, missing the heart by mere inches.
A/N: So, Sydney's Mom is once again on the rampage. What else is new? Vaughn, Khasinau, and Sydney are unaware of this "rebirth" and Francie has decided to rush in like an idiot and rescue everyone. Hmmm…this could get interesting. REALLY interesting. For the less bright people, this is a BIG hint to stay with me.
I also have an Alias trivia question for everyone, which will definitely factor into my story: Does Sark work for the Man, or is he part of some other criminal organization? Life-size posters of Michael Vartan to anyone who answers!!! Not really, but you get the idea.
--From the mind of Legolas' favorite authoress (I wish!).
Daphne: I thought you hated Legolas???
Heehee….