A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Anyway, this idea came to me last night, so I decided to add it on. Whatever happened to Will Tippin? Will SD-6 ever go away? *Dramatic Music* Stay tuned to find out...
Chapter Five
The Mysteries
The plane rocks, and a red light flashes, illuminating the man's face in a hellish glow; dirty and covered in grime, with a long, scraggly beard, more gray hair than his age warranted, and old, old eyes. His name, or the name that appeared on file, was Will Tippin.
William can't help but stare as the shadows reach to cover Tippin's face again. This was who the CIA needed to take down SD-6? He had expected someone younger, maybe with more spirit. The only evidence that this was truly who they wanted was the words carved in the gray stone walls of the cell William had rescued him form only hours before: SD-6, Sydney Bristow, and towards the back, where he must have grown tired and desolate, they combined into SyD-6.
William taps his fingers on the bench in an unconscious imitation of his father. Almost thirty years in prison for unknown crimes in an unheard of country. Why hadn't they just killed him if he knew so much? Maybe he was bait for someone.
And who was Sydney Bristow?
He clears his throat uncomfortably to catch the man's attention. "Mr. Tippin, I'll keep my questions brief and leave the rest to trained CIA, but can you tell me what you know about SD-6?"
"Everything," he says simply in a voice hoarse of disuse. "It's almost funny how much information they'll leak around a dead man."
William shivers at the flat, detached tome as much as the words. "Alright," he drawls uneasily. "And can you tell me who Sydney Bristow is?"
"Sydney Bristow," he breathes with the feverant air of holy men speaking of their God. "Sydney was my best friend. When he fiancee was killed, I decided to investigate his death. I got too close to the truth; I was captured and tortured, and Sydney rescued me. It was then I learned who she really was: a spy, a double agent for the CIA in SD-6. Later, when she was discovered as the mole, SD-6 took me into custody for my connections to her and my earlier threat. From there, I'm sure you know what happened." He pauses painfully, the red light blinking on again to reveal silent tears. "I never did find out what happened to Sydney, is she safe somewhere or,or...I always believed deep down she would come for me, so she must be dead."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
William stalks down the hall of the CIA offices, taking joy in every solid footfall. He's frustrated with his search for information on the mysterious Sydney Bristow, and he feels that there's something he needs to know about this woman who just to occupy his "position."
Weiss's door gives a satisfying smack against the wall, and his handler looks up in surprise.
"Will? What are you doing here? By the way, great job on the mission, boyo--"
"Sydney Bristow. I want her file."
Weiss's pen falls out of his limp fingers and rolls across the desk. "How-How did you find out about Bristow?"
"The prisoner you sent me after. Why wasn't I told about an agent who used to work inside SD-6? All the information she could have..."
"Damn. I should have known that guy would talk to you. You didn't need to know about Bristow; she can't help you."
"Why not?"
"She's dead."
"Dead? Really?"
"As dead as she can get, boyo."
"Dammit, Weiss, doesn't matter. Just give me the file."
"You won't leave me alone until I do, will you?"
"I'll make your life a living hell."
Weiss wipes his brow, muttering about how Mike was going to kill him. He reaches under his desk for a hidden key and bends to unlock a cabinet.
So his "Mike" and Sydney Bristow were connected somehow...
"You had it here all along?"
"Well, Bristow's handler was a friend of mine. When he disappeared I sort of, um, inherited it."
William merely rips the manila folder from him with unnecessary force. He flips the file open with casual grace, but his heart stops when he see the picture paper-clipped onto the sheets.
He sucks in a long breath through his teeth. She was younger, but it was still defiantly her.
"My mother?"
"Like I said, Sydney Bristow's dead; there's only Juliette Dupont now."
A distinctive sinking felling begins in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly finds it hard to breathe. "All these years and she never said...Does my father know?"
"He was her handler, Michael Vaughn."
"Syd. Vaughn. Mike." The world falls into place with sickening speed. "Weiss, they've finished interrogating Tippin, haven't they?" He nods mutely, unsure of where this is leading. "I need access to Tippin, now...and a plane."
"I don't know if that's wise right now...What do you need him for?"
"I'm taking him home with me."
"H-Home!" Weiss's chair hits the ground as he shoots to his feet. "William, I think you need to stop for a minute, calm down..."
"No, I will not calm down. Yes, I know I am very distressed right now; I've just found out I've been lied to all my life, but I am also armed. So, it's my way or no way at all."
"Alright, alright. You're too much like her, you know? Just let me get my coat."
"Your coat? Where are you going?"
"With you. You don't think I'll let you go to your parents without me, do you? Somehow it'll end up as my fault for telling you. I've got to defend my good reputation. Or at least face my death like a man."
To Be Continued...If You Review!
Chapter Five
The Mysteries
The plane rocks, and a red light flashes, illuminating the man's face in a hellish glow; dirty and covered in grime, with a long, scraggly beard, more gray hair than his age warranted, and old, old eyes. His name, or the name that appeared on file, was Will Tippin.
William can't help but stare as the shadows reach to cover Tippin's face again. This was who the CIA needed to take down SD-6? He had expected someone younger, maybe with more spirit. The only evidence that this was truly who they wanted was the words carved in the gray stone walls of the cell William had rescued him form only hours before: SD-6, Sydney Bristow, and towards the back, where he must have grown tired and desolate, they combined into SyD-6.
William taps his fingers on the bench in an unconscious imitation of his father. Almost thirty years in prison for unknown crimes in an unheard of country. Why hadn't they just killed him if he knew so much? Maybe he was bait for someone.
And who was Sydney Bristow?
He clears his throat uncomfortably to catch the man's attention. "Mr. Tippin, I'll keep my questions brief and leave the rest to trained CIA, but can you tell me what you know about SD-6?"
"Everything," he says simply in a voice hoarse of disuse. "It's almost funny how much information they'll leak around a dead man."
William shivers at the flat, detached tome as much as the words. "Alright," he drawls uneasily. "And can you tell me who Sydney Bristow is?"
"Sydney Bristow," he breathes with the feverant air of holy men speaking of their God. "Sydney was my best friend. When he fiancee was killed, I decided to investigate his death. I got too close to the truth; I was captured and tortured, and Sydney rescued me. It was then I learned who she really was: a spy, a double agent for the CIA in SD-6. Later, when she was discovered as the mole, SD-6 took me into custody for my connections to her and my earlier threat. From there, I'm sure you know what happened." He pauses painfully, the red light blinking on again to reveal silent tears. "I never did find out what happened to Sydney, is she safe somewhere or,or...I always believed deep down she would come for me, so she must be dead."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
William stalks down the hall of the CIA offices, taking joy in every solid footfall. He's frustrated with his search for information on the mysterious Sydney Bristow, and he feels that there's something he needs to know about this woman who just to occupy his "position."
Weiss's door gives a satisfying smack against the wall, and his handler looks up in surprise.
"Will? What are you doing here? By the way, great job on the mission, boyo--"
"Sydney Bristow. I want her file."
Weiss's pen falls out of his limp fingers and rolls across the desk. "How-How did you find out about Bristow?"
"The prisoner you sent me after. Why wasn't I told about an agent who used to work inside SD-6? All the information she could have..."
"Damn. I should have known that guy would talk to you. You didn't need to know about Bristow; she can't help you."
"Why not?"
"She's dead."
"Dead? Really?"
"As dead as she can get, boyo."
"Dammit, Weiss, doesn't matter. Just give me the file."
"You won't leave me alone until I do, will you?"
"I'll make your life a living hell."
Weiss wipes his brow, muttering about how Mike was going to kill him. He reaches under his desk for a hidden key and bends to unlock a cabinet.
So his "Mike" and Sydney Bristow were connected somehow...
"You had it here all along?"
"Well, Bristow's handler was a friend of mine. When he disappeared I sort of, um, inherited it."
William merely rips the manila folder from him with unnecessary force. He flips the file open with casual grace, but his heart stops when he see the picture paper-clipped onto the sheets.
He sucks in a long breath through his teeth. She was younger, but it was still defiantly her.
"My mother?"
"Like I said, Sydney Bristow's dead; there's only Juliette Dupont now."
A distinctive sinking felling begins in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly finds it hard to breathe. "All these years and she never said...Does my father know?"
"He was her handler, Michael Vaughn."
"Syd. Vaughn. Mike." The world falls into place with sickening speed. "Weiss, they've finished interrogating Tippin, haven't they?" He nods mutely, unsure of where this is leading. "I need access to Tippin, now...and a plane."
"I don't know if that's wise right now...What do you need him for?"
"I'm taking him home with me."
"H-Home!" Weiss's chair hits the ground as he shoots to his feet. "William, I think you need to stop for a minute, calm down..."
"No, I will not calm down. Yes, I know I am very distressed right now; I've just found out I've been lied to all my life, but I am also armed. So, it's my way or no way at all."
"Alright, alright. You're too much like her, you know? Just let me get my coat."
"Your coat? Where are you going?"
"With you. You don't think I'll let you go to your parents without me, do you? Somehow it'll end up as my fault for telling you. I've got to defend my good reputation. Or at least face my death like a man."
To Be Continued...If You Review!