Perfect Place – Part 2
A/N: For all pertinent info, see part one. Thanks to J.L. again. Big thanks to Karen, who helped a lot. And thank you to those of you who have reviewed this…the more I get, the faster I write *wink, wink*
I know I was born to lead a double life, Of murder, strife, and misery…
"Perfect World", Liz Phair
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"Look, you've got to cooperate. Tell me something. Anything." Elaine Jansuek was tired. It had been a long day and she didn't have the patience for this. But Run, Lola, Run sat across from her with her lips tightly pressed shut and her arms crossed. "A name," she tried.
Marino watched from behind the two-way. Two hours ago the girl was shaking and chanting her name like a mantra. Now, nothing. What was with this chick? He gave Elaine another six seconds before she walked out the door. "She's about to walk," he said to Thatcher, who was standing next to him.
"I wouldn't be so sure….Rainbow Brite might still open up."
"Ten says she doesn't," Marino baited her.
"You're on," Thatcher said.
On the mirror side, Elaine shifted heavily in her seat. Her back was killing her and the seats in this joint weren't exactly ergonomic. Maybe she should suggest they requisition some new chairs….might cut down on her chiropractor visits. But that was about as likely to happen as pigs flying. The last time the pace had gotten anything new was 1975 and it was only a new coat of institutional beige. "Look, Ms. Jones, if you don't give me something I can work with, I'm outta here and you're on your own." She let her words hang in the air. Who knows, maybe that way they would sink into Strawberry Shortcake's head.
The girl said nothing.
Elaine stood and gathered her papers. "Good luck," Elaine said, half meaning it. She'd seen so many cases in her ten years as a public defender that she didn't get emotionally invested anymore. But there was something about this girl.
Hoisting her briefcase onto her shoulder, Elaine made her way to the door and rapped on it for opening. The guard outside looked in, then unlocked the heavy metal door and held it open for Elaine.
Marino was grinning. Elaine was almost out the door. "Your money is mine," he taunted
"Bristow."
Elaine turned around.
"My name is Bristow," the girl said, her voice slightly raspy.
Marino shook his head. When Thatcher held out her hand, he begrudgingly slapped a ten into it.
"She speaks," Elaine said, returning to the table. "Now, Ms. Bristow, can you explain to me why your fingerprints match Kate Jones'?"
"Kate Jones isn't real. They made her."
"Who is they?" Elaine asked, re-positioning herself in the straight-backed metal chair.
"The Alliance."
"The Alliance? What is this? The X-Files?"
"No." The response was quiet, but it carried a tone that said don't mess with me.
"You want me to believe that some shadow group created Kate Jones and gave you her identity?" Elaine sighed. They'd given her a paranoid nut. Patterson must've thought it'd be funny. She hoped he was laughing now, 'cause he wasn't going to be laughing later. "As your counsel, it's my job to inform you that if you keep talking about conspiracy theories, you will be found unfit to stand trial."
"Unfit?" she laughed, a short, maniacal laugh. "It doesn't matter. They're not going to let me get to trial anyway." That was why she had been running. It was only a matter of time before they sent somebody to clean things up. No way was the Alliance going to let her get away with killing one of their own.
Elaine could not believe the clarity with which the girl was speaking. Five minutes ago, she could have been declared almost comatose. Now she was talking and she seemed so certain. "Hold on. Why won't they let you stand trial? Are you saying this…whatever you called it is going to send somebody to kill you?"
Her breathing was more regular, the way she formed her words was more careful. Speaking slowly and clearly, with her hands folded in her lap, Sydney looked at Elaine, eyes wide, and said, "Of course."
"Then tell me why."
"If I walked up to the president of the United States and shot him, would the Secret Service think twice about aiming and firing at me?" Sydney smiled, almost triumphantly. "I just walked up to a man ten times more powerful."
"Why?"
"I killed him because he was ruining my life. It was suicide. But I won't go to trial. Kate Jones doesn't exist. Somebody who doesn't exist can't kill someone." Sydney reached up and twirled some of berry colored hair, closing her eyes for the duration of her actions. Then she opened them, clasped her hands in her lap, and started to whisper, "Kate doesn't exist."
"But Sydney Bristow does exist? What will happen to her?" Elaine pressed. This woman obviously had multiple personalities. She watched as Sydney frowned, for half a moment, and then smiled again.
"I'm going to die."
"My name," she took a deep breath, "is Sydney Bristow. I . . . have been working in intelligence for almost eight years, now." The woman, Kate, or Sydney, or whoever she was going to be in ten minutes, parted her lips and sighed. "I was told that I was working for SD-6, a covert part of the U.S. government, the CIA. But when I told my fiancé about it . . ."
She stopped and tears came into her eyes. Elaine reached forward and touched her softly on the wrist, where her hands were clasped in front of her on the desk. "You okay?" asked Elaine in a soft voice.
Sydney pushed the tears away. She wasn't going to let this woman pity her. She didn't want it, she didn't need it. God, she already got enough from Vaughn.
"My fiancé was killed." She brushed her hair back behind her ear, something that Elaine had noticed before. It was a nervous habit, she noted, something that Kate did often. "The head of SD-6 ordered it. That's the reason I learned the truth. SD-6 is not part of the government. It's a part of the Alliance of Twelve. I was working against my country."
Play along with her, Elaine thought. Delusional as this girl was, here was something solid. Motive. "Did that bother you, Sydney?" she asked Kate.
Kate/Sydney glared at Elaine. "Of course it bothered me. I pledged my life and loyalty to the United States government and I find out that every time my life was in danger it was for an enemy of the government. My works meant nothing to me then. I was ashamed of them. That's when I went to the real CIA -- it was the only place I knew to find my pride again."
She paused, as if waiting for something. Elaine said nothing. Kate seemed to take this badly, in any case she deepened her the color of her eyes as she coolly surveyed the public defender.
"An agent named Michael Vaughn was my handler," she said, licking her lips and pushing her hair back behind her ears again. She seemed to be on the verge of saying something, then caught herself. "He . . . he was the one who told me about…."
The door opened, startling both women. A weary looking young officer was standing there. He nodded in the direction of Kate/Sydney. "There's a visitor here for her."
//end part two