Title: A Single Bullet
Author: Nicki D JAVAjavaJAVAxx@aol.com
Disclaimer: I own nothing; it belongs to a great man called JJ Abrams and ABC. Etc. etc.
Summary: The worst has come, the unthinkable has arrived. Sloane's reaction.
A/N: Thank you once again to everyone this is my THIRD installment! Keep looking for updates; I think I have one more!
Sloane sat in his office with a stack of papers sitting in front of them. He quickly scribbled on them and set them aside, it was Friday and he was ready to leave. Thoughts of seeing his wife again drifted happily through his head. He missed her so much it hurt but he was in the alliance now. The alliance had no room for romance, no room for love. Only room for the money, and the power. A knock interrupted Sloane's train of thought; he looked up and motioned the agent on the other side to enter, "Sorry to interrupt you sir." He said curtly. "It's alright, what is it you need to tell me?" he said, looking down and shifting through the papers. "Something has happened," he said and paused, "to one of our agents." Sloane stopped and looked up at the agent, urging with his eyes to continue, "Agent Bristow is dead, sir" Sloane's breath was caught in his throat and his eyes became watery. He swallowed it down and looked once again. "Please leave," he said, barely above a whisper. "But sir-" the agent tried to say but Sloane quickly lifted his hand to stop him.
"Go," he said, and the agent obeyed and left. Sloane was left with his thoughts, his eyes searched for something to occupy him, anything to just keep him from crying.
The women he referred to, as is daughter was gone, dead. The women he put in dangerous situations only for his success. The women he had lied to for so long, never hearing the truth, was dead. So this is what a conscious feels like.
The day of the funeral Sloane never bothered to go. He had sent a team to set up a surveillance system and he watched it from his office. His eyes darted from one person to another. He recognized Will and Francie. Jack, of course, stood in the back. And a new man, one that Sloane had never seen before. He stood near the front, and Sloane became very suspicious. A friend, a brother, or a lover, any of these could have been a possibility. Sloane lowered his head in respect in Sydney's memory. Remembering the first time he had visited Jack's home and met Sydney, so small and little. Never realizing the force, the determination that baby girl had. She was born a spy, and she'll always be a spy in Sloane's mind.
Author: Nicki D JAVAjavaJAVAxx@aol.com
Disclaimer: I own nothing; it belongs to a great man called JJ Abrams and ABC. Etc. etc.
Summary: The worst has come, the unthinkable has arrived. Sloane's reaction.
A/N: Thank you once again to everyone this is my THIRD installment! Keep looking for updates; I think I have one more!
Sloane sat in his office with a stack of papers sitting in front of them. He quickly scribbled on them and set them aside, it was Friday and he was ready to leave. Thoughts of seeing his wife again drifted happily through his head. He missed her so much it hurt but he was in the alliance now. The alliance had no room for romance, no room for love. Only room for the money, and the power. A knock interrupted Sloane's train of thought; he looked up and motioned the agent on the other side to enter, "Sorry to interrupt you sir." He said curtly. "It's alright, what is it you need to tell me?" he said, looking down and shifting through the papers. "Something has happened," he said and paused, "to one of our agents." Sloane stopped and looked up at the agent, urging with his eyes to continue, "Agent Bristow is dead, sir" Sloane's breath was caught in his throat and his eyes became watery. He swallowed it down and looked once again. "Please leave," he said, barely above a whisper. "But sir-" the agent tried to say but Sloane quickly lifted his hand to stop him.
"Go," he said, and the agent obeyed and left. Sloane was left with his thoughts, his eyes searched for something to occupy him, anything to just keep him from crying.
The women he referred to, as is daughter was gone, dead. The women he put in dangerous situations only for his success. The women he had lied to for so long, never hearing the truth, was dead. So this is what a conscious feels like.
The day of the funeral Sloane never bothered to go. He had sent a team to set up a surveillance system and he watched it from his office. His eyes darted from one person to another. He recognized Will and Francie. Jack, of course, stood in the back. And a new man, one that Sloane had never seen before. He stood near the front, and Sloane became very suspicious. A friend, a brother, or a lover, any of these could have been a possibility. Sloane lowered his head in respect in Sydney's memory. Remembering the first time he had visited Jack's home and met Sydney, so small and little. Never realizing the force, the determination that baby girl had. She was born a spy, and she'll always be a spy in Sloane's mind.