Chapter Twelve
Sydney muttered through clenched teeth.
Come here, Sloane said, motioning with one hand.
Sydney grasped the sheets tighter.
Sloane reached behind his back to pull a gun out of his belt. Is this what it takes to convince you?
Sydney's lower lip trembled. You set us up.
Sloane told her, his trademark creepy smile appearing on his lips.
The airport, the plane, probably the hotel too, Sydney said through her teeth.
There probably wasn't even a vial for us to retrieve either, Sark put in.
Oh, there was, Sloane informed them, but I had already gotten it. Had you two not stopped here and instead decided to infiltrate the facility last night, I would have been dead in the water. But it was just my luck that you had decided to stay here for the night. Or two nights, as you said, Mr. Sark. I also found it odd, Sydney, that you requested a room with two beds when you were planning on sleeping with him.
Sydney swallowed hard. How do you know about those conversations?
Sloane's eyes burned into Sydney's and she felt herself starting to tear up.
Sloane placed his hands on Sydney's shoulders. She felt a strong pressure as Sloane pushed down, deliberately feeling for the straps of Sydney's bra with his thumbs.
He had put a microphone on her coat. And since she was too upset with what had happened with Will, she hadn't packed and hadn't changed her clothes before she left.
Sydney shook the image from her head and grasped the sheet tighter. Her knuckles were turning white.
Come here, Sloane repeated, his voice indicating that he was clearly irritated.
Sydney glanced at Sark a moment then back at Sloane. She was shaking as she stood up from the bed, taking one of the sheets with her. She walked slowly over to him and stood about four feet away with the sheet wrapped around her. She bit her lip and looked down as she wiped her eyes.
We can't have witnesses for when I kill you, Sloane told her. Sydney opened her mouth in shock and charged at Sloane trying to either knock the gun out of his hand or throw off his aim.
She was unsuccessful with both. The shot was fired and Sydney slammed Sloane against the wall, knocking the gun out of his hand. She glanced at Sark and was horrified to see that Sloane had shot him in the head. The wall, sheets, and various other objects were stained with blood.
She felt sick.
She dragged Sloane away from the wall for a moment by his shirt then slammed him up against it again.
What was in the vial? Her voice was raspy.
It doesn't concern you.
Sydney pulled him back and again threw him against the wall. She released him briefly to grab the gun as Sloane tried to recover then put the gun to his temple. She grasped his throat with her free hand.
Tell me what was in the fucking vial. She gave him a few seconds to answer then pressed the gun harder against his temple.
Wouldn't you rather know why I wanted to kill you in the first place? Sloane asked calmly.
Why does it matter now? You can't do anything.
I found out that you were working against us, he whispered, his voice still calm. Everyone at SD-6 knows of your treachery.
Sydney looked down for a moment then back up. When did you find out?
I've know for quite a while now. I just refused to accept it, given that I always thought of you as a daughter. I just couldn't—and didn't want to—comprehend the fact that you were working as a double agent, Sloane explained. It's so ironic that you went to the—real—CIA to try and take down SD-6.
Sydney smirked. I don't think it's ironic. I think it makes sense.
Well, even if you kill me, you will still have to face the wrath of your betrayed colleagues. Besides, I have already, shall we say—taken care—of those close to you.
Sydney's breath caught in her throat and suddenly cast her eyes downward to blink back a few tears. She regained some strength and pressed the gun harder again Sloane's temple. He didn't seem to mind as he did not flinch nor wince in pain.
Sydney choked out, as she felt her eyes fill with tears.
Mr. Vaughn, whom you evidently know according to that conversation you had earlier with him and someone named Mr. Weiss.
You killed Vaughn? Sydney was almost sobbing now.
I did. His creepy smile was back.
Sydney backed up a few feet. She raised the gun.
Sloane cleared his throat. The liquid in the vial was Rambaldi's invention of some kind of fountain of youth. I drank it already, and it's unfortunate that I won't live long enough to see if it actually would have worked. He smirked. I'll see you in Hell, Sydney.
She pulled the trigger rapidly, firing multiple shots into Sloane's chest. His body collapsed to the ground. Sydney was shaking. She dropped the gun and fished around in Sloane's pockets for a cell phone. She called her father and without going into detail, she explained what had taken place. She dressed and pulled a sheet over Sark's body and another sheet over Sloane's bloody corpse. Then she climbed into the other bed and closed her eyes tightly as she waited to be rescued.