Chapter 5
CIA Headquarters, Jack's Office
"Sydney," Jack addressed his daughter as she walked into his office, "I know why you are here. I would appreciate you ending this inquisition before it can officially begin."
"No, "Sydney, mind your own business?"" Sydney crossed over closer to the desk and sat down on the edge. "No, "Sydney, go bother someone else?"
"I'm not in the mood for this, Sydney," he said tiredly, rubbing his brow.
"You're stubborn, I know this. It's encoded in the Bristow DNA," she smiled, "but you know I exhibit the same traits, and since I'm too old to be grounded, just tell me."
"We will discuss this later. I have a lot of work to do," he was shuffling around papers on his desk, not looking at her.
"Dad," she put a hand over the papers making him look up, "I'll leave you alone," she wasn't going to badger him to appease her curiosity, "but just for the record I like her too."
"I do not," he said as an afterthought as she walked out the door. He opened his desk drawer and took out the manila folder that sat on top, and stared at the name on the tab. Irina Derevko. He smiled, just a little, and only for a second. "I know better than that."
Vaughn's House
"Eric Weiss, party animal at your service," Vaughn laughed at the way his best friend answered the phone.
"That's not exactly the most professional way to answer the company phone," he laughed.
"Who calls me besides you?" he paused, "Okay, pretend I didn't just admit that."
"Will do."
"Thanks," there was an awkward silence when neither man spoke for a few seconds, "Vaughn, this is where you tell me why you're calling."
"Yeah, right. Sorry, I got distracted."
"What, did Sydney walk by?"
"No," he coughed, "but that's funny. I really do appreciate all the Sydney jokes."
"You give the comedian enough subject matter and he will joke."
"Try to stop."
"That's like asking a clown to stop smiling, or the sun to stop shining, or McDonalds to stop making burgers out of Grade D meat."
"Okay, I'm hanging up."
"Vaughn, man, what the hell. You called me, remember? I still don't know why by the way."
"I'm sorry Eric. I'm just tense. I came home early from the office to think, and Alice was here."
"Oh. Fun surprise."
"She was sitting on the couch holding Sydney's makeup thing."
"Double fun surprise. Wait, what?"
"It must have fallen out of Sydney's bag last night. Alice recognized it wasn't her own. The first thing she asked me as I walked in the door was, "Vaughn, what kind of woman wears green eye shadow?" So, I told her."
"What exactly did you tell her?"
"I gave her the abridged version. She was really hurt," he spoke softly, "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"You know what they say about love."
"What's that?"
"That it hurts."
"That was profound."
"I thought so. Listen Vaughn, why are you still on the phone with me. Call Sydney, have her come pick up her makeup thing and then tell her about Alice."
"I can't do that. Don't you remember what happened in France?"
"I know. But Vaughn, you know what else they say about love?"
"What's that?"
"It can feel pretty damn good."
"I know," he sighed, "I'll think about it."
"No, just do it."
"You sound like a Nike commercial."
"I like television. Sue me."
"Do you ever wonder why we're friends?"
"Because every straight laced guy must have a wacky side-kick?"
"That sounds pretty accurate," Vaughn laughed, "Anyway, I'll call you later. Thanks Eric."
"No problem, dude."
Vaughn hung up the phone. Weiss couldn't be right, or was he? What the hell, he would do it. He called the familiar number. The phone rang and rang and rang. On the fourth ring, he heard her voice.
"Hi."
"Joey's Pizza?"
"Tricked you! I don't have my phone with me, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Vaughn pressed end immediately. In the entire time he has known Sydney, she has never been without her phone in the middle of a workday. He dialed her home phone.
"Hello?"
"Um, Will?" Vaughn asked tentatively. It wasn't the time for formalities; he needed to know if Sydney was all right. "It's Vaughn."
"Oh, good," it sounded as if Will sighed in relief, "I was just trying to call you but I got a busy signal."
"What's wrong, Will?"
"The place is a wreck. Two tables are overturned, the door was kicked in, and Sydney's cell phone is lying on the floor."
"Will, get out of there. Lie low for the night. I will contact you in the morning," Will was about to plead with him but Vaughn hung up before he had the chance. He immediately dialed the number for Jack Bristow's office
"Jack? It's Michael Vaughn. Sydney's gone."
CIA Headquarters, Jack's Office
"Sydney," Jack addressed his daughter as she walked into his office, "I know why you are here. I would appreciate you ending this inquisition before it can officially begin."
"No, "Sydney, mind your own business?"" Sydney crossed over closer to the desk and sat down on the edge. "No, "Sydney, go bother someone else?"
"I'm not in the mood for this, Sydney," he said tiredly, rubbing his brow.
"You're stubborn, I know this. It's encoded in the Bristow DNA," she smiled, "but you know I exhibit the same traits, and since I'm too old to be grounded, just tell me."
"We will discuss this later. I have a lot of work to do," he was shuffling around papers on his desk, not looking at her.
"Dad," she put a hand over the papers making him look up, "I'll leave you alone," she wasn't going to badger him to appease her curiosity, "but just for the record I like her too."
"I do not," he said as an afterthought as she walked out the door. He opened his desk drawer and took out the manila folder that sat on top, and stared at the name on the tab. Irina Derevko. He smiled, just a little, and only for a second. "I know better than that."
Vaughn's House
"Eric Weiss, party animal at your service," Vaughn laughed at the way his best friend answered the phone.
"That's not exactly the most professional way to answer the company phone," he laughed.
"Who calls me besides you?" he paused, "Okay, pretend I didn't just admit that."
"Will do."
"Thanks," there was an awkward silence when neither man spoke for a few seconds, "Vaughn, this is where you tell me why you're calling."
"Yeah, right. Sorry, I got distracted."
"What, did Sydney walk by?"
"No," he coughed, "but that's funny. I really do appreciate all the Sydney jokes."
"You give the comedian enough subject matter and he will joke."
"Try to stop."
"That's like asking a clown to stop smiling, or the sun to stop shining, or McDonalds to stop making burgers out of Grade D meat."
"Okay, I'm hanging up."
"Vaughn, man, what the hell. You called me, remember? I still don't know why by the way."
"I'm sorry Eric. I'm just tense. I came home early from the office to think, and Alice was here."
"Oh. Fun surprise."
"She was sitting on the couch holding Sydney's makeup thing."
"Double fun surprise. Wait, what?"
"It must have fallen out of Sydney's bag last night. Alice recognized it wasn't her own. The first thing she asked me as I walked in the door was, "Vaughn, what kind of woman wears green eye shadow?" So, I told her."
"What exactly did you tell her?"
"I gave her the abridged version. She was really hurt," he spoke softly, "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"You know what they say about love."
"What's that?"
"That it hurts."
"That was profound."
"I thought so. Listen Vaughn, why are you still on the phone with me. Call Sydney, have her come pick up her makeup thing and then tell her about Alice."
"I can't do that. Don't you remember what happened in France?"
"I know. But Vaughn, you know what else they say about love?"
"What's that?"
"It can feel pretty damn good."
"I know," he sighed, "I'll think about it."
"No, just do it."
"You sound like a Nike commercial."
"I like television. Sue me."
"Do you ever wonder why we're friends?"
"Because every straight laced guy must have a wacky side-kick?"
"That sounds pretty accurate," Vaughn laughed, "Anyway, I'll call you later. Thanks Eric."
"No problem, dude."
Vaughn hung up the phone. Weiss couldn't be right, or was he? What the hell, he would do it. He called the familiar number. The phone rang and rang and rang. On the fourth ring, he heard her voice.
"Hi."
"Joey's Pizza?"
"Tricked you! I don't have my phone with me, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Vaughn pressed end immediately. In the entire time he has known Sydney, she has never been without her phone in the middle of a workday. He dialed her home phone.
"Hello?"
"Um, Will?" Vaughn asked tentatively. It wasn't the time for formalities; he needed to know if Sydney was all right. "It's Vaughn."
"Oh, good," it sounded as if Will sighed in relief, "I was just trying to call you but I got a busy signal."
"What's wrong, Will?"
"The place is a wreck. Two tables are overturned, the door was kicked in, and Sydney's cell phone is lying on the floor."
"Will, get out of there. Lie low for the night. I will contact you in the morning," Will was about to plead with him but Vaughn hung up before he had the chance. He immediately dialed the number for Jack Bristow's office
"Jack? It's Michael Vaughn. Sydney's gone."