"What favor?" Syd whispered frantically. She sat straight up, only to
find herself looking down the barrel of Sark's gun. Is it too late to grab
the gun under my pillow? she thought.
"Toss me the gun under your pillow, Sydney." Sark said, reading her mind.
Guess so.
Syd tossed the gun to Sark, knowing it would be hopeless to fight back at this point.
"Thank you." he said, slightly mocking. "Now, if you would kindly wake your mother up, I would like to have a chat with her."
Oh. Now Sydney remembered. THAT favor. She had been hoping to never follow through with it. If only this had been like her other missions, with CIA backup. She vaguely recalled Vaughn's words to her, right before they had gotten into yet another fight.
"I have a bad feeling about this mission, Syd . . . . ."
She should have listened to him.
"How about this, Sark. You put the gun down, and I'll give you a thirty-second head start before CIA backup starts pouring in. They have the room wired."
Sark laughed at her.
"Sydney, you have become a terrible liar."
It had been worth a try. Sighing, she flipped open the covers, feeling a bit too exposed for some reason in her PJ sweatpants and tank top. Even more exposed when she caught him staring at her. She hesitated a moment, bent over her mother to wake her.
"By the way . . . . ." This was awkward, but she had to say it. "Thanks for the book."
She cleared her throat.
"And the poem."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sydney." Even in the dark, she could tell he was lying just looking in his eyes. Fine, be that way . . . she thought. Syd shook her mother awake.
Irina's eyes popped open, but she didn't move. It almost seemed that she knew immediately what was happening. Syd wasn't surprised. Her mother had a habit of being able to predict everything.
"To what do we owe this pleasure, Sark?" she asked him matter-of- factly.
"Ms. Derevko, I need to speak to you privately," he tossed Sydney his jacket and motioned toward the balcony, "Sydney, if you would just step outside for a moment. You can watch us through the sliding glass door, just in case you have any notions that I am trying to take your mother away from the CIA again."
Silently, Sydney rose and walked towards the door. Suddenly she remembered that the ring she was wearing had been issued to her by the CIA, and had a small recording device inside. Just before stepping out the door, she dropped it quietly on the carpet by the curtains. There. Now she would hear the conversation, whether Sark wanted her to or not.
Once outside, she twisted the back of her earring: the receiver. Their conversation began pouring in. Sark's voice, slightly muffled by static, rang in her ear.
"Eu necessito sua ajuda."
"Por que nós estamos falando no português?" she heard her mother say.
"Sydney não compreende o português." he answered.
"Encontrará uma maneira."
Portuguese. It figures. Oh well, Syd thought, as long as the conversation is recording I can have someone translate it later.
Ten minutes into the conversation, Sark and Irina were still jabbering on in Portuguese, when suddenly Sark stopped talking and looked straight at Sydney. Never taking his eyes off her, he walked over near the door, bent down, and picked up the ring she had "dropped".
"Nice try, Sydney." he said, talking into the ring, before he dropped it again and crushed it under his heel. Syd winced as a loud static suddenly blared in her ear. Sark smiled, obviously amused. When Syd glared at him, he only shrugged his shoulders and went on smiling. By the time Syd had managed to deactivate the receiver, he was once again deep in conversation with Irina. It was obvious that they weren't going anywhere.
To amuse herself, Sydney looked up at the stars. Half were covered by clouds, but she could just see Orion peeking out into view. She had always been fascinated by that myth. The over-confident hunter-defeated by the one creature he had never taken into consideration-the tiny scorpion. And there he is, Syd thought . . . Right above me. Perpetually fleeing from hidden dangers across the night sky.
One by one the stars seemed to blur in her vision, as her eyes slowly drifted closed.
_________________________________
Syd was shaken from sleep by her mother the next morning. Sark, of course, was long gone by then. He left his jacket behind with her, which Sydney was thankful for.
"Why didn't you wake me up earlier??" Syd asked, frustrated. Truth be told, she was more infuriated with herself for falling asleep than she was with her mother for not waking her. How could she have been so careless?
"You seemed so peaceful," her mother started, "You must have been so tired. You slept like a rock."
"What did Sark say to you?" Syd asked. She just hoped her mother would give an honest response.
"He wanted information from me-specifically, he wanted to know where the Alliance meetings were held. It seems he has the same plans we do. He's going to try to take down the Alliance." Her mother leaned back, letting the words sink in. They just made Sydney angrier.
"So you felt the need to give Sark this information instead of the CIA?? We could have taken down the Alliance long ago if we had been given that information . . . ." Irina held up her hand, halting her daughter's tirade.
"Sydney, I didn't give him any information that the CIA didn't already have. It's all in my initial statement. The thing is, even if you know where the meetings are held, you still need to hack into the system and retrieve codes to find the exact location and override the security. Apparently, after Sloane took Sark under his wing, Sark used Sloane's access to the Alliance database to hack into the system and get the codes. The only piece of the puzzle that he was missing was the Where." She got up and poured herself a glass of orange juice from the mini-bar.
"Then tell me this-How did Sark get the information this quickly when it's taken Dad a decade to even get close to Sloane?"
"Sark's reckless. He has nothing to lose, so he takes a lot of dangerous risks. It was pure luck that he wasn't found out and killed when he hacked into the database." Syd sighed. She was running out of ammunition, but she still felt so frustrated. Why did it always seem to be that she worked for everything, only to be forced to give it up to Sark at gunpoint?
"But still Mom . . . . . . . Sark? He's pretty much public enemy number one. It would have been better if you had withheld some information."
"He's not as bad as you think, Sydney. He's working towards the same objective, he just goes about things a little differently, and with less of a conscious. He's just been in the business too long, and it's taken its toll."
"You still didn't have to give him the information." Her mother was beginning to look frustrated with her.
"Sydney, he was threatening to kill you. What did you expect me to do? Though, after observing the situation tonight, I'm not at all sure he would have followed through with that threat." A smile began playing on Irina's lips.
"What are you talking about?" Syd asked, irritated. She needed some coffee this morning, definitely.
"I kept catching him looking at you sleeping during our conversation. And he didn't take back his jacket." Irina's smile grew wider. "Is there something I should know Sydney?"
Sydney felt like a teenager being interrogated by her parents after a first date. This was unbelievable.
"No."
"In that case, take a look in the breast pocket of the jacket. Sark left you a note."
Taking it out and unfolding it, Sydney read:
"Sydney-
When you open up that bookshop, I'll be the first customer.
--Sark"
Syd couldn't help but smile a little.
"Whatever that note said, it's probably Sark's form of goodbye." Irina broke in, "Chances are he's not coming back from this operation of his alive. Even with security team the size of what he's got, it's pretty much a Kamikaze mission."
"Why is he even bothering then?" Syd said, careful to hide her emotions, which seemed to be rising up.
"He knows that even if he doesn't succeed in destroying the Alliance, he will at least create sizeable problems. Plus, he's cocky. The young always think that they are invincible." Irina's eyes glazed over, remembering. "Always remember Sydney, bad things can and WILL happen to you. Don't hold anything back. They might not be there tomorrow." she gave Sydney a sullen smile. "I mean, take a look at how I turned out . . . . . . . Things could have been so different."
Looking at her mother for a moment, Syd began to see her as a human being again. It had been a long time since she had thought of her mother as having emotions or weakness. If this whole ordeal had taught her anything, it had shown her that nobody is what they seem on the surface. Reaching out, she pulled her mom into a surprise embrace.
"I know Mom . . . I know."
"Toss me the gun under your pillow, Sydney." Sark said, reading her mind.
Guess so.
Syd tossed the gun to Sark, knowing it would be hopeless to fight back at this point.
"Thank you." he said, slightly mocking. "Now, if you would kindly wake your mother up, I would like to have a chat with her."
Oh. Now Sydney remembered. THAT favor. She had been hoping to never follow through with it. If only this had been like her other missions, with CIA backup. She vaguely recalled Vaughn's words to her, right before they had gotten into yet another fight.
"I have a bad feeling about this mission, Syd . . . . ."
She should have listened to him.
"How about this, Sark. You put the gun down, and I'll give you a thirty-second head start before CIA backup starts pouring in. They have the room wired."
Sark laughed at her.
"Sydney, you have become a terrible liar."
It had been worth a try. Sighing, she flipped open the covers, feeling a bit too exposed for some reason in her PJ sweatpants and tank top. Even more exposed when she caught him staring at her. She hesitated a moment, bent over her mother to wake her.
"By the way . . . . ." This was awkward, but she had to say it. "Thanks for the book."
She cleared her throat.
"And the poem."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sydney." Even in the dark, she could tell he was lying just looking in his eyes. Fine, be that way . . . she thought. Syd shook her mother awake.
Irina's eyes popped open, but she didn't move. It almost seemed that she knew immediately what was happening. Syd wasn't surprised. Her mother had a habit of being able to predict everything.
"To what do we owe this pleasure, Sark?" she asked him matter-of- factly.
"Ms. Derevko, I need to speak to you privately," he tossed Sydney his jacket and motioned toward the balcony, "Sydney, if you would just step outside for a moment. You can watch us through the sliding glass door, just in case you have any notions that I am trying to take your mother away from the CIA again."
Silently, Sydney rose and walked towards the door. Suddenly she remembered that the ring she was wearing had been issued to her by the CIA, and had a small recording device inside. Just before stepping out the door, she dropped it quietly on the carpet by the curtains. There. Now she would hear the conversation, whether Sark wanted her to or not.
Once outside, she twisted the back of her earring: the receiver. Their conversation began pouring in. Sark's voice, slightly muffled by static, rang in her ear.
"Eu necessito sua ajuda."
"Por que nós estamos falando no português?" she heard her mother say.
"Sydney não compreende o português." he answered.
"Encontrará uma maneira."
Portuguese. It figures. Oh well, Syd thought, as long as the conversation is recording I can have someone translate it later.
Ten minutes into the conversation, Sark and Irina were still jabbering on in Portuguese, when suddenly Sark stopped talking and looked straight at Sydney. Never taking his eyes off her, he walked over near the door, bent down, and picked up the ring she had "dropped".
"Nice try, Sydney." he said, talking into the ring, before he dropped it again and crushed it under his heel. Syd winced as a loud static suddenly blared in her ear. Sark smiled, obviously amused. When Syd glared at him, he only shrugged his shoulders and went on smiling. By the time Syd had managed to deactivate the receiver, he was once again deep in conversation with Irina. It was obvious that they weren't going anywhere.
To amuse herself, Sydney looked up at the stars. Half were covered by clouds, but she could just see Orion peeking out into view. She had always been fascinated by that myth. The over-confident hunter-defeated by the one creature he had never taken into consideration-the tiny scorpion. And there he is, Syd thought . . . Right above me. Perpetually fleeing from hidden dangers across the night sky.
One by one the stars seemed to blur in her vision, as her eyes slowly drifted closed.
_________________________________
Syd was shaken from sleep by her mother the next morning. Sark, of course, was long gone by then. He left his jacket behind with her, which Sydney was thankful for.
"Why didn't you wake me up earlier??" Syd asked, frustrated. Truth be told, she was more infuriated with herself for falling asleep than she was with her mother for not waking her. How could she have been so careless?
"You seemed so peaceful," her mother started, "You must have been so tired. You slept like a rock."
"What did Sark say to you?" Syd asked. She just hoped her mother would give an honest response.
"He wanted information from me-specifically, he wanted to know where the Alliance meetings were held. It seems he has the same plans we do. He's going to try to take down the Alliance." Her mother leaned back, letting the words sink in. They just made Sydney angrier.
"So you felt the need to give Sark this information instead of the CIA?? We could have taken down the Alliance long ago if we had been given that information . . . ." Irina held up her hand, halting her daughter's tirade.
"Sydney, I didn't give him any information that the CIA didn't already have. It's all in my initial statement. The thing is, even if you know where the meetings are held, you still need to hack into the system and retrieve codes to find the exact location and override the security. Apparently, after Sloane took Sark under his wing, Sark used Sloane's access to the Alliance database to hack into the system and get the codes. The only piece of the puzzle that he was missing was the Where." She got up and poured herself a glass of orange juice from the mini-bar.
"Then tell me this-How did Sark get the information this quickly when it's taken Dad a decade to even get close to Sloane?"
"Sark's reckless. He has nothing to lose, so he takes a lot of dangerous risks. It was pure luck that he wasn't found out and killed when he hacked into the database." Syd sighed. She was running out of ammunition, but she still felt so frustrated. Why did it always seem to be that she worked for everything, only to be forced to give it up to Sark at gunpoint?
"But still Mom . . . . . . . Sark? He's pretty much public enemy number one. It would have been better if you had withheld some information."
"He's not as bad as you think, Sydney. He's working towards the same objective, he just goes about things a little differently, and with less of a conscious. He's just been in the business too long, and it's taken its toll."
"You still didn't have to give him the information." Her mother was beginning to look frustrated with her.
"Sydney, he was threatening to kill you. What did you expect me to do? Though, after observing the situation tonight, I'm not at all sure he would have followed through with that threat." A smile began playing on Irina's lips.
"What are you talking about?" Syd asked, irritated. She needed some coffee this morning, definitely.
"I kept catching him looking at you sleeping during our conversation. And he didn't take back his jacket." Irina's smile grew wider. "Is there something I should know Sydney?"
Sydney felt like a teenager being interrogated by her parents after a first date. This was unbelievable.
"No."
"In that case, take a look in the breast pocket of the jacket. Sark left you a note."
Taking it out and unfolding it, Sydney read:
"Sydney-
When you open up that bookshop, I'll be the first customer.
--Sark"
Syd couldn't help but smile a little.
"Whatever that note said, it's probably Sark's form of goodbye." Irina broke in, "Chances are he's not coming back from this operation of his alive. Even with security team the size of what he's got, it's pretty much a Kamikaze mission."
"Why is he even bothering then?" Syd said, careful to hide her emotions, which seemed to be rising up.
"He knows that even if he doesn't succeed in destroying the Alliance, he will at least create sizeable problems. Plus, he's cocky. The young always think that they are invincible." Irina's eyes glazed over, remembering. "Always remember Sydney, bad things can and WILL happen to you. Don't hold anything back. They might not be there tomorrow." she gave Sydney a sullen smile. "I mean, take a look at how I turned out . . . . . . . Things could have been so different."
Looking at her mother for a moment, Syd began to see her as a human being again. It had been a long time since she had thought of her mother as having emotions or weakness. If this whole ordeal had taught her anything, it had shown her that nobody is what they seem on the surface. Reaching out, she pulled her mom into a surprise embrace.
"I know Mom . . . I know."