Chapter Four: Falling is Like This
After a short recess, during which Sydney Bristow was dismayed to find the hallway deserted, the meeting reconvened with Senator Marchard urging Sydney to continue the story. She picked it up at the point where she and Dixon gained entry to the library, and as she told it, her mind was concentrating on the details while her heart wondered about the empty bench in the corridor.
Sydney had memorized the layout of the library from photographs in the dossier. She stealthily moved among the rows of books, pausing at key points to casually reach up, pull a book from a shelf, peruse it for a moment, and then return it to its place. No one observing this could possibly know that when those books were replaced, they bore tiny, pinpoint surveillance cameras.
"Great positioning, Syd," Dixon's calm voice sounded in the earpiece she wore hidden by her long, curly auburn wig. "Keep up the good work."
Sydney smiled privately and continued to move casually among the stacks. She blended in perfectly in a short pleated navy skirt and a white button- down blouse. Small, dark tortoiseshell framed eyeglasses were perched on her nose and she took care every once in a while to push them up, trying to appear like the average studious library patron. She stopped at one point and shifted her backpack from one shoulder to the other before reaching up to put yet another mini-camera into place.
"I can see him now," Dixon said almost immediately. "He's two rows behind you, to the left, and he's alone."
Sydney grasped a small silver heart that hung on a chain around her neck and pretended to play with it absently as she scanned a bookshelf in front of her. Bringing the charm near her mouth, she spoke into it as quietly as possible.
"I'm moving in," She said, taking a cursory glance around her in all directions. "Going radio silent."
"Copy that." Dixon replied just before Sydney began moving slowly to her left, her eyes expertly scanning the area for interference.
Rounding the corner of a bookshelf, Sydney covertly reached into her pocket, withdrew Marshall's specially designed capsule and slipped it into her mouth. She glanced up toward the far end of the row of books and spotted her target. Laughlin was leaning back against the stack, a book open before him. He seemed completely involved in the reading and didn't even notice as Sydney approached.
Pushing her glasses up on her nose, Sydney came within a foot of Laughlin and pretended to be searching for something on the shelf beside him. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him glance up at her and stare for a moment. She took that opportunity to make eye contact, and to her delight, he smiled. She smiled back as warmly as possible, and then -
"Oh, hold still," She said, the capsule cradled snugly on her tongue. "You have an eyelash." And just as she had done with Marshall, she leaned into Laughlin and blew into his face, depressing the capsule against the roof of her mouth.
In no less than three seconds, Laughlin's eyes rolled back and his legs gave out. Sydney caught him and lowered him to the floor, taking care not to breathe in until the sleeping agent had dissipated.
Sydney grabbed the pendant at her neck and spoke into it after spitting the capsule out and tucking it back into her pocket. "Dixon," She said hurriedly. "I'm getting the device now."
"You're still clear, Syd," Dixon assured her. "No one else in sight."
The device was in the inside front pocket of Laughlin's jacket. Sydney located it right away and shoved it into her backpack as she darted around the end of the stack and started strolling as calmly as possible for the exit to the stairwell.
"Target acquired," Sydney spoke once again into the silver heart. "I'll see you at home."
Dixon couldn't help but let out a delighted chuckle. "Have a safe flight, Syd," He admonished warmly. "See you back in LA." And with that, they made their hasty, separate exits and headed to the airport.
All the way to the airport, in the back of the taxi, Sydney thought about Vaughn. Reconstructing it in her mind from countless memorized images, she tried to imagine the smile he would flash upon seeing her again. By the time the driver pulled the cab to a stop in front of Heathrow, Sydney was so desperate to see Vaughn that she nearly forgot to pay for the ride. After dropping a handful of British pound notes into the driver's hand, she hurriedly climbed out of the car and dashed for the entrance, doing her best to meld into the bustling throng of travelers around her.
Sydney had instructions to go to a certain ticket agent at a certain airline carrier and purchase a ticket. Once she had done this, the ticket agent radioed a second undercover agent that Sydney was in the airport. Outfitted in a pair of gray coveralls marked "maintenance" and unassumingly painting a wall, the second agent kept his eyes open for Sydney or trouble, whichever crossed his path first.
While walking purposefully through the concourse, Sydney opened the ticket folder in her hands and read the instructions printed there; she recognized Vaughn's small, tight handwriting and her pulse quickened as she picked up her pace. It wasn't long before the baggage claim offices came into view and Sydney spotted a maintenance man on a stepladder, roller brush in hand. She checked the instructions once more, shoved the ticket into her backpack and took a right into a small corridor just past the wall where the maintenance man was working. Behind her, the agent on the stepladder spoke quietly into a hidden microphone while continuing to work, the paint roller turning a white wall blue.
There was an unmarked door at the end of the hallway, and just as Sydney reached it, it opened and Vaughn stepped out, furtively glancing in the direction from which Sydney had just come.
"It's clear," Sydney told him, her heart skipping as she looked at his face. She wanted badly for him to meet her eyes. When he finally did, the smile she had pictured emerged and they both audibly sighed.
"I'm glad you're okay," Vaughn said as he held the door open for Sydney to enter the makeshift tech center. It was obvious that it was previously a storage area; old, discarded baggage was stacked along the walls, some of it covered in what appeared to be years of accumulated dust.
"I'm fine," Sydney said, brushing strands of the auburn wig from her shoulder. She looked to the side and noticed another agent in the room, busily working at a laptop computer. He was about Vaughn's age and serious looking in a shirt and tie, his gold-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose as he typed. Pausing once to push them up, he glanced up and immediately broke into a smile.
Getting to his feet, he extended a hand to shake. "You must be the celebrated Sydney Bristow," He effused, shaking her hand heartily.
Sydney was surprised by his enthusiasm. "I guess so," She responded carefully.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Agent Zachary Gelman," Gelman released her hand and nodded. "Agent Vaughn here was just singing your praises." Sydney shot a guarded look at Vaughn just before Gelman continued. "The work you've done to dismantle SD-6. It's truly amazing."
Sydney instantly felt foolish. She knew Vaughn would never tell anyone about their relationship. Her adrenaline was still rushing after executing the mission and meeting someone new had put her on edge. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.
"Thank you," Sydney smiled at Gelman as he sat back down at the computer. "Agent Vaughn had done some of that work, too."
"I hear you're quite a team," Gelman agreed, grinning as he pushed his glasses up once more. "Now, Agent Bristow, I believe you have something I need."
Sydney set her brown leather backpack on the table and unbuckled the side pocket before reaching inside. Carefully, she withdrew the coveted device, cradling it in her palm. It was about the size of a make-up compact and looked like nothing more special than a bundle of red and blue wires encased in plastic.
"It doesn't look like much," Vaughn observed, echoing their thoughts.
"That's the beauty of it," Gelman carefully lifted it from Sydney's hand and set it on the tabletop. "The wires are secondary, really. The brains of this piece are in a microchip hidden in the center. I've seen the schematics on this device and even studied a very early prototype. But this is the first time I've been this close to the real deal," He seemed genuinely excited, and for a moment, Sydney thought of Marshall. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the mouth capsule.
"That doesn't look like much, either," Vaughn said to her. Sydney placed it into his hand and he studied it for a moment. "It worked like a charm?" He raised his eyes to Sydney's face, and she smiled.
"Of course," She said smugly.
Vaughn chuckled. "I'm telling you," He said pointedly. "We need to get that guy working for our side."
"Hey!" Gelman interjected good-naturedly. Sydney and Vaughn laughed, then slowly turned to face each other, their smiles fading as their eyes locked. The emotion that passed between them was nearly palpable.
Vaughn absent-mindedly pocketed the capsule and turned to Gelman, clearing his throat. "Hey, Gelman," He was trying to sound as casual as possible. "Agent Bristow and I need to take a few minutes to review the mission objective. You'll be all right here?"
Sydney avoided looking at either of them, feeling uncomfortable about lying to Gelman. But she knew there was no alternative. She busied herself with rebuckeling her backpack.
Gelman barely looked up from his work. "Oh, sure, no problem," He said, his eyes locked on the device as he unraveled a wire to expose the microchip. "I've got my good friend here," He tapped his earpiece, which was attached to a small microphone that ran along his jaw line. "I'll holler if I need you."
"Don't holler," Vaughn smiled. "You'll blow out my eardrum." He tapped his earpiece as he turned to Sydney. "Follow me, Agent Bristow."
Sydney grabbed her backpack and followed Vaughn towards the back of the small room. There was a door there, and Vaughn led her through it, careful to close it securely behind them. Sydney looked around at the even smaller room they were now in. Its walls were hidden behind floor to ceiling shelves where smaller suitcases and other lost or unclaimed items were stacked. In the center of the room a plastic lunch cooler sat on a small table.
"Are you hungry?" Vaughn asked after reaching up to turn off his microphone. He kept his earpiece live, however, in case Gelman needed to get their attention.
Sydney dropped her backpack to the floor and grinned, looking around the small room. It wasn't much, but it was the best they could do. She found it cozy, especially with one of the two bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling burnt out.
"I'm not sure," She finally answered, moving towards the table. "What have you got?"
"Well, it's not as good as if we could've gone out to eat," Vaughn conceded, reaching to open the cooler. "But I don't know Gelman well enough, and I thought this might be safer." He pulled out two sandwiches, both wrapped in cellophane and still bearing their price tags.
Sydney laughed. "You didn't make this meal," She pointed out.
"I never said I did," Vaughn replied, the corners of his mouth curving into a devilish smile. "Someday, Sydney Bristow, you will taste a home cooked Michael Vaughn meal. But for right now, you'll have to make do with this." He held out one of the sandwiches to her.
Sydney looked at the sandwich and then up at Vaughn's face, his green eyes reflecting the smile on his lips. She realized then that she wasn't hungry and she didn't take the food as it was offered. Instead, she grabbed Vaughn's arm and pulled him to her, giving him no choice but to embrace her as she pressed her body to his. He dropped both sandwiches on the floor as their lips met and the passion they had bottled up finally was allowed to escape.
It was like an overplayed scene from a romantic movie; they assailed each other with a frenzy of kisses and hands. Vaughn pulled Sydney's costume eyeglasses from her face and tossed them onto the table as Sydney worked frantically to loosen his tie. They weren't thinking, then, where this all would lead; all they knew was that they couldn't get enough of each other.
Vaughn backed Sydney up against one of the shelves with a thud as their lips never parted, the kisses deep and meaningful. He clutched her blouse, holding her close as she locked her arms around his body, wanting more, needing nothing less than everything. Vaughn ran his hand down her hip, finding the hem of her skirt as she exhaled sharply at the feeling of his fingers on her thigh. They were lost in each other, both silently pleading with this moment in time to be frozen, when suddenly -
Vaughn jerked back like an injured animal, his hand flying up to his earpiece, his eyes wide and wild. Sydney, her lips burning from his kiss, was momentarily stunned.
"What the -" She stopped abruptly when Vaughn clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Shh!" He admonished sharply, turning to face her, his eyes letting her know that something was terribly, horribly wrong. He withdrew his hand from her mouth as he pressed a finger to his other ear, blocking out all sound but what he was hearing through the small listening device.
"Tell me," Sydney pleaded, her voice a whisper.
"Gelman," Vaughn whispered. "He's not alone, and it's not our guys." He looked stricken, searching Sydney's face for an answer. "They're saying they followed the device. It has a GPS chip in it. They want it back... " Vaughn recoiled again and Sydney reached out to steady him. "They just hit him, I think."
Vaughn listened closely. He could hear Gelman arguing, but it sounded far away. Vaughn concluded the earpiece and microphone must've been knocked from his ear. Then he heard Gelman speak his name and he grabbed Sydney's arm, his eyes hard.
"Gelman just told me they have guns," He told her. "He won't give up the device, and they're threatening to kill him."
"I'm going," Sydney twisted out of Vaughn's grasp and went towards the door. "Call in our guys," She said over her shoulder.
"I'll be right behind you," Vaughn reached down and freed a pistol from his hidden ankle holster, at the same time activating his microphone. He hit the panic button, immediately opening his frequency to any and all agents within range and also broadcasting his words to agents monitoring their mission from the ops center in LA. "O7, this is O9. We have a situation. Two subjects, armed. Mountaineer and O9 fully involved."
Sydney opened the door a mere fraction of an inch and peered into the room. She drew in a sharp breath when her eyes fell upon two men, one of whom was Laughlin, holding handguns to Gelman as he sat in his chair, hands in the air. The device was nowhere to be seen.
"Wait for me," Sydney whispered to Vaughn. "I'm going to try to draw them to me and then take them out." Before Vaughn could argue, Sydney stealthily opened the door and stepped into the room, pulling the door partially closed behind her.
Gelman spotted her first and his eyes darted in her direction, followed closely by the eyes of his two assailants.
"What's going on?" Sydney asked innocently, raising her hands slightly. She wanted to catch them off-guard by making them think she posed no threat.
"You!" Laughlin thundered, taking steps towards her. "You're very clever, aren't you?" He grabbed her arm and roughly jerked her towards his accomplice. "That eyelash trick. Very nice, very nice."
"Where's the device?" Laughlin's partner barked at her, pressing his pistol to Gelman's head. "Tell me or it's going to get very messy in here."
Sydney's eyes darted from the thug to Gelman, where their gaze locked. Gelman's eyes opened wider and his mouth formed a hard line. Sydney knew he was telling her not to give anything up, and she couldn't help but feel pride in his bravery. At the same time, she couldn't ignore his bloody lip and swollen, bruised jaw. Gelman had reminded her of Marshall, and the affection she held for him gave way to a deep, boiling well of anger that would not allow these men to get away with a damn thing.
"The device?" Sydney asked, trying to sound clueless.
"Yes, the device," Laughlin shook her arm, causing real pain. She fought through it to remain in control. "It has a GPS chip in it, girlie, and we traced it here. So now he want it back. Is that so difficult to understand?" He demanded, shoving his revolver into Sydney's ribs. She let out a groan but quickly recovered her composure.
Sydney turned slightly towards her captor and sighed heavily. "You know, I was just following orders," She tried to sound as bitter as possible. "And look where it got me. You know what? Who cares? You can have the stupid thing. It's under there." She made a vague gesture toward the table, and both men immediately followed her movement.
"Where?" Laughlin demanded, his eyes scanning the bare floor. "I don't see it."
"Geez," Sydney rolled her eyes. "It's right there!" She bent slightly and pointed, causing Laughlin to bend slightly, too. And as soon as he was distracted, searching for the item that was not there, Sydney attacked.
Twisting hard to break free of Laughlin's grasp, Sydney brought up both of her arms and landed her elbows square in Laughlin's back. With a grunt, Laughlin was brought to his knees as Sydney whirled to face Gelman.
"Get down!" She screamed just as Laughlin rose up and knocked her solidly in the stomach, sending her back about five feet, the wind knocked clear out of her. She hit the floor with a thud as Gelman dove under the table, covering his head with his arms. Laughlin's accomplice was caught by surprise and stood dumbly waving his weapon in the air, unsure which direction to aim.
Meanwhile, behind the door, Vaughn had been repeating his request for backup. He knew the locations of both of the agents they'd had within the airport and a few more who had been stationed outside. But no one was coming to their aid. Confused and angry, Vaughn barked his request once more, and then he witnessed the hit that sent Sydney sprawling.
Instinctively, Vaughn sprang into action, flying out from behind the door and aiming his weapon at Laughlin's head. "Don't move!" He shouted, his voice ferocious. As the words left his mouth, Laughlin turned and fired. Vaughn dove behind a stack of luggage, providing cover for himself and enough of a distraction for Sydney to sweep Laughlin's feet out from underneath him from where she lay on the floor.
Laughlin went down hard as his partner turned his attention to Vaughn. He shot once and then ducked as Vaughn returned fire, finding a gap between two suitcases. Before he ducked again as gunfire rang out above his head, he glanced at Sydney and was relieved to see that she had gotten back on her feet.
Laughlin managed to stagger back to his feet and was attempting to bring his gun up to shoot Sydney when she landed a wicked roundhouse kick that sent the weapon clattering across the floor where it disappeared underneath a storage bin. Laughlin never saw the next kick coming; Sydney hit him squarely in the head and he dropped to the floor with a bone-shaking thud.
With one opponent down, Sydney whirled to turn her attention to the other. She was horrified to discover that he had Gelman by the neck with his revolver pressed to Gelman's temple.
"Back off!" He screamed, his eyes wild. Sydney took a step back, still in fighting stance, ready for anything. From behind her, she heard Vaughn move around the stacks of luggage and take a few hesitant steps forward. He lowered his gun to his side.
"Easy, easy," Vaughn coaxed. "Let's just take it easy." He was speaking to the thug, but his eyes were locked on Gelman's. Gelman looked terrified, his eyes darting between Sydney and Vaughn, silently pleading for someone to save him.
"Give me the device! Give it to me and let me walk out and no one gets hurt!" The man shouted at them, his desperation nearly tangible.
Sydney and Vaughn exchanged looks, communicating silently. Sydney was out of ideas. If she rushed the guy, he would shoot Gelman. If Vaughn shot him, chances were good that his muscles would tense and he'd pull the trigger. Either way, it looked as though Gelman were in trouble.
Vaughn suddenly remembered the capsule in his pocket. He didn't know if there was any sleep agent left in it, but it was worth a try. The backup had not arrived and they were out of options. Vaughn nodded towards a shelf behind the assailant's head.
"The device is on that shelf," He said, meeting the man's eyes. When he turned to look in the direction Vaughn had indicated, Vaughn reached into his pocket and palmed the capsule.
The guy ran his eyes over the shelf and turned back to Vaughn. "Where? I don't see nothin'."
Vaughn took a step towards the guy. "Right there." He raised his arm to point, and at the same time, depressed the capsule. The small amount that was left hit the man right in the face.
"Hey! What was -" With that, he started to fade, his knees weakening. But time suddenly stood still as an evil grin crossed his face as he started to slide to the floor. With one last effort before he passed out, he pointed the gun back at Gelman and pulled the trigger.
Gelman screamed out and dropped to the floor right next to the man who had just put a bullet in his right shoulder.
Sydney and Vaughn were instantly at Gelman's side. "Agent down, agent down," Vaughn shouted into his microphone. "We need an ambulance, now!"
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Gelman moaned, looking down at the blood darkening his shirt. "Oh, this is bad," He gasped, clutching at Sydney's blouse as she hovered over him. "This is really bad."
"Stay still," Sydney instructed, her voice firm but compassionate. Tears rimmed her eyes but she held back, swallowing the lump in her throat. She looked around for something to put under Gelman's head, but there was nothing. Without another thought, she reached up and yanked the long, curly wig from her head. Balling it up, she slid it under Gelman's head as a pillow and then grabbed Gelman's hand.
Vaughn had unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off quickly. He rolled it up and pressed it to Gelman's wound in an effort to stop the unabated flow of blood. Gelman sputtered, struggling against the pain, struggling against the urge to cry. Vaughn saw this and glanced up at Sydney. She could no longer control it; tears rolled down her cheeks. Vaughn continued to apply pressure to Gelman's shoulder as his desire to comfort Sydney made him momentarily forget himself. With his free hand, he reached over and wiped Sydney's cheek before gently cradling her head and bringing her face close to his own.
Just as Vaughn placed a soft, loving kiss on Sydney's trembling lips, the door burst open and the two agents from the airport rushed the room, guns drawn and ready. They stopped short when they saw Vaughn, Sydney and Gelman among the unconscious gunmen. The agents were out of breath and simply stared at the scene, neither one believing it. They had not missed the kiss, and when they added that to everything else they saw, nothing made much sense.
Vaughn was incensed. He jumped to his feet, pointing a bloody hand at his fellow agents. "Where the hell were you?" He demanded. "How the hell did these guys get past you?"
"Past us?" The agent in the coveralls shot back, incredulous. "How'd they get past you?"
"Yeah!" The other agent chimed in. "Where were you when these guys got in here?" Vaughn was about to comment but was stopped cold when a voice boomed in his ear, transmitted from the ops center in Los Angeles.
"That's a good question, Agent Vaughn," Kendall thundered. "Where were you and Agent Bristow?"
All eyes turned to Vaughn as he turned a slow circle until he was facing Sydney. She was applying pressure to Gelman's wound and talking softly to him, but something made her look up at Vaughn, her eyes questioning. He looked back at her as the sound of loud voices in the hallway followed by the clatter of an ambulance gurney filled the small room. The only sound Vaughn heard, however, was the deafening crash of his world falling in around him.
Sydney sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on the wooden table before her. The memories of that night were still fresh and painful to explore. She licked her lips and tried to continue, but she couldn't find the words she so desperately was seeking. It occurred to her then that there were no words that could make the situation seem any better. It was horrible, and had to be exposed as just that.
Senator Marchard waited a moment in respectful silence before speaking. "Agent Bristow," He said, his voice almost gentle. "Were you aware that the communication device was equipped with a GPS chip?"
Sydney shook her head. "It was the one thing neither SD-6 nor the CIA anticipated," She said. "The whole thing just unfolded in such a bizarre way. I can honestly say that I've never had a mission where all the steps took a wrong turn."
"It says in Agent Vaughn's post-mission report that there was a security scare in another area of Heathrow and that was what prevented any agents from getting to the baggage claim offices," Senator Marchard looked over the document in front of him, then raised his eyes to Sydney's face. "Is that your statement, as well?"
"It's an indisputable fact, Senator," Sydney nodded. "Airport security gave the CIA a signed deposition stating the same." She shifted in the chair, noticing for the first time how tense she was. "Thankfully ambulance personnel were already on the scene. They were able to get to us and get Agent Gelman to the hospital quickly."
"Agent Gelman will recover, and the device was recovered from his pants pocket," the Senator said this as a statement of fact, not a question, but Sydney still nodded in reply. "What happened, Agent Bristow, when you returned to Los Angeles?"
Sydney took a sip of her water and slipped back into memory. She recalled sitting in Kendall's office at the CIA ops center and not daring to even look at Vaughn even though he was sitting less than two feet away. He was doing the same, sitting uncomfortably as Kendall looked at them and tapped a pen on his desktop, his anger filling the small space like a vapor.
"At the very least, Agent Vaughn," Kendall began, clacking the pen into his top desk drawer so hard that it echoed. "You'll be reassigned. There is no way in hell you will remain Agent Bristow's handler."
"Yes, sir," Vaughn conceded, finally daring to meet Kendall's eyes. He couldn't read Kendall's expression, but he thought he sensed a trace of sadness.
"You'll both have to face the IOC," Kendall went on. He looked over at Sydney and met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. "We'll do everything we can to cover for you at SD-6, Agent Bristow, but we won't do it as a favor to you. We don't want to jeopardize the work you two have done so far," He pointedly looked back at Vaughn. "Work that ended, at least on your part, Agent Vaughn, when you crossed a line you were warned repeatedly not to cross."
"Sir," Sydney tried to speak up in Vaughn's defense, but Kendall cut her off.
"And as for you, Agent Bristow, I believe it was your own father who made it clear to you that this kind of behavior was the quickest way to get yourself bounced out of here, or worse, get you killed." His voice rose in a crescendo of frustration. "But that wasn't enough to deter you. I will never understand it."
"We're equally responsible for this," Sydney finally interjected. "It wasn't Agent Vaughn-"
"Syd, stop," Vaughn finally turned to her, his eyes imploring. "Let me take the heat. You still have work to do with SD-6. Whatever happens to me-"
"Isn't that cute," Kendall interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Sydney and Vaughn fell silent. Kendall sat back in his chair, looking from one to the other, his jaw set. "Agent Vaughn," He said finally, waiting for Vaughn to look up before he continued. "You told me once that what you wanted to accomplish most in this job was to be as good an agent as your father. Son, I hate to say it, but this is not the way to make that happen."
The meeting room was absolutely silent as Sydney once again struggled to control her tears. She drew in a shaky breath and raised the drinking glass to her lips before taking a sip followed by a long, thirsty gulp. She was hot and feeling sticky, like she'd been there for days, wearing these clothes for weeks. She'd never felt more out of place, more alone.
"I think we're done for today," Senator Marchard finally said, shuffling the papers before him. "Thank you for your time, Agent Bristow. We'll be-"
"Wait," Sydney found her voice again, raising a hand to the committee, stopping them as they began to gather their things. "I just want to tell you that Agent Vaughn is probably going to come in here tomorrow and try to take all the blame, all the responsibility for this. Please consider what I've said here today. I was just as much a participant in this as he was."
"Thank you, Agent Bristow. We've noted that," Senator Marchard's tone was kind. He could see how weary Sydney was and he wanted to end this session as gently as possible. "We'll be meeting with him tomorrow, and then we'll see you both on Friday."
Sydney nodded and reached down next to her chair for her purse. She was more tired than she could remember being in a long time. As she stood up, her legs felt like lead, and she had to force herself to walk to the door and through it as the same agent from earlier in the day held it open for her. She remembered seeing him, but it felt like it was years ago.
Stepping into the corridor, Sydney stopped in her tracks as she looked up at the wooden bench. Vaughn was still gone, but in his place sat someone else, someone whose arms she went to now, someone who folded her into a much-needed hug. Her father.
*******
After a short recess, during which Sydney Bristow was dismayed to find the hallway deserted, the meeting reconvened with Senator Marchard urging Sydney to continue the story. She picked it up at the point where she and Dixon gained entry to the library, and as she told it, her mind was concentrating on the details while her heart wondered about the empty bench in the corridor.
Sydney had memorized the layout of the library from photographs in the dossier. She stealthily moved among the rows of books, pausing at key points to casually reach up, pull a book from a shelf, peruse it for a moment, and then return it to its place. No one observing this could possibly know that when those books were replaced, they bore tiny, pinpoint surveillance cameras.
"Great positioning, Syd," Dixon's calm voice sounded in the earpiece she wore hidden by her long, curly auburn wig. "Keep up the good work."
Sydney smiled privately and continued to move casually among the stacks. She blended in perfectly in a short pleated navy skirt and a white button- down blouse. Small, dark tortoiseshell framed eyeglasses were perched on her nose and she took care every once in a while to push them up, trying to appear like the average studious library patron. She stopped at one point and shifted her backpack from one shoulder to the other before reaching up to put yet another mini-camera into place.
"I can see him now," Dixon said almost immediately. "He's two rows behind you, to the left, and he's alone."
Sydney grasped a small silver heart that hung on a chain around her neck and pretended to play with it absently as she scanned a bookshelf in front of her. Bringing the charm near her mouth, she spoke into it as quietly as possible.
"I'm moving in," She said, taking a cursory glance around her in all directions. "Going radio silent."
"Copy that." Dixon replied just before Sydney began moving slowly to her left, her eyes expertly scanning the area for interference.
Rounding the corner of a bookshelf, Sydney covertly reached into her pocket, withdrew Marshall's specially designed capsule and slipped it into her mouth. She glanced up toward the far end of the row of books and spotted her target. Laughlin was leaning back against the stack, a book open before him. He seemed completely involved in the reading and didn't even notice as Sydney approached.
Pushing her glasses up on her nose, Sydney came within a foot of Laughlin and pretended to be searching for something on the shelf beside him. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him glance up at her and stare for a moment. She took that opportunity to make eye contact, and to her delight, he smiled. She smiled back as warmly as possible, and then -
"Oh, hold still," She said, the capsule cradled snugly on her tongue. "You have an eyelash." And just as she had done with Marshall, she leaned into Laughlin and blew into his face, depressing the capsule against the roof of her mouth.
In no less than three seconds, Laughlin's eyes rolled back and his legs gave out. Sydney caught him and lowered him to the floor, taking care not to breathe in until the sleeping agent had dissipated.
Sydney grabbed the pendant at her neck and spoke into it after spitting the capsule out and tucking it back into her pocket. "Dixon," She said hurriedly. "I'm getting the device now."
"You're still clear, Syd," Dixon assured her. "No one else in sight."
The device was in the inside front pocket of Laughlin's jacket. Sydney located it right away and shoved it into her backpack as she darted around the end of the stack and started strolling as calmly as possible for the exit to the stairwell.
"Target acquired," Sydney spoke once again into the silver heart. "I'll see you at home."
Dixon couldn't help but let out a delighted chuckle. "Have a safe flight, Syd," He admonished warmly. "See you back in LA." And with that, they made their hasty, separate exits and headed to the airport.
All the way to the airport, in the back of the taxi, Sydney thought about Vaughn. Reconstructing it in her mind from countless memorized images, she tried to imagine the smile he would flash upon seeing her again. By the time the driver pulled the cab to a stop in front of Heathrow, Sydney was so desperate to see Vaughn that she nearly forgot to pay for the ride. After dropping a handful of British pound notes into the driver's hand, she hurriedly climbed out of the car and dashed for the entrance, doing her best to meld into the bustling throng of travelers around her.
Sydney had instructions to go to a certain ticket agent at a certain airline carrier and purchase a ticket. Once she had done this, the ticket agent radioed a second undercover agent that Sydney was in the airport. Outfitted in a pair of gray coveralls marked "maintenance" and unassumingly painting a wall, the second agent kept his eyes open for Sydney or trouble, whichever crossed his path first.
While walking purposefully through the concourse, Sydney opened the ticket folder in her hands and read the instructions printed there; she recognized Vaughn's small, tight handwriting and her pulse quickened as she picked up her pace. It wasn't long before the baggage claim offices came into view and Sydney spotted a maintenance man on a stepladder, roller brush in hand. She checked the instructions once more, shoved the ticket into her backpack and took a right into a small corridor just past the wall where the maintenance man was working. Behind her, the agent on the stepladder spoke quietly into a hidden microphone while continuing to work, the paint roller turning a white wall blue.
There was an unmarked door at the end of the hallway, and just as Sydney reached it, it opened and Vaughn stepped out, furtively glancing in the direction from which Sydney had just come.
"It's clear," Sydney told him, her heart skipping as she looked at his face. She wanted badly for him to meet her eyes. When he finally did, the smile she had pictured emerged and they both audibly sighed.
"I'm glad you're okay," Vaughn said as he held the door open for Sydney to enter the makeshift tech center. It was obvious that it was previously a storage area; old, discarded baggage was stacked along the walls, some of it covered in what appeared to be years of accumulated dust.
"I'm fine," Sydney said, brushing strands of the auburn wig from her shoulder. She looked to the side and noticed another agent in the room, busily working at a laptop computer. He was about Vaughn's age and serious looking in a shirt and tie, his gold-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose as he typed. Pausing once to push them up, he glanced up and immediately broke into a smile.
Getting to his feet, he extended a hand to shake. "You must be the celebrated Sydney Bristow," He effused, shaking her hand heartily.
Sydney was surprised by his enthusiasm. "I guess so," She responded carefully.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Agent Zachary Gelman," Gelman released her hand and nodded. "Agent Vaughn here was just singing your praises." Sydney shot a guarded look at Vaughn just before Gelman continued. "The work you've done to dismantle SD-6. It's truly amazing."
Sydney instantly felt foolish. She knew Vaughn would never tell anyone about their relationship. Her adrenaline was still rushing after executing the mission and meeting someone new had put her on edge. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.
"Thank you," Sydney smiled at Gelman as he sat back down at the computer. "Agent Vaughn had done some of that work, too."
"I hear you're quite a team," Gelman agreed, grinning as he pushed his glasses up once more. "Now, Agent Bristow, I believe you have something I need."
Sydney set her brown leather backpack on the table and unbuckled the side pocket before reaching inside. Carefully, she withdrew the coveted device, cradling it in her palm. It was about the size of a make-up compact and looked like nothing more special than a bundle of red and blue wires encased in plastic.
"It doesn't look like much," Vaughn observed, echoing their thoughts.
"That's the beauty of it," Gelman carefully lifted it from Sydney's hand and set it on the tabletop. "The wires are secondary, really. The brains of this piece are in a microchip hidden in the center. I've seen the schematics on this device and even studied a very early prototype. But this is the first time I've been this close to the real deal," He seemed genuinely excited, and for a moment, Sydney thought of Marshall. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the mouth capsule.
"That doesn't look like much, either," Vaughn said to her. Sydney placed it into his hand and he studied it for a moment. "It worked like a charm?" He raised his eyes to Sydney's face, and she smiled.
"Of course," She said smugly.
Vaughn chuckled. "I'm telling you," He said pointedly. "We need to get that guy working for our side."
"Hey!" Gelman interjected good-naturedly. Sydney and Vaughn laughed, then slowly turned to face each other, their smiles fading as their eyes locked. The emotion that passed between them was nearly palpable.
Vaughn absent-mindedly pocketed the capsule and turned to Gelman, clearing his throat. "Hey, Gelman," He was trying to sound as casual as possible. "Agent Bristow and I need to take a few minutes to review the mission objective. You'll be all right here?"
Sydney avoided looking at either of them, feeling uncomfortable about lying to Gelman. But she knew there was no alternative. She busied herself with rebuckeling her backpack.
Gelman barely looked up from his work. "Oh, sure, no problem," He said, his eyes locked on the device as he unraveled a wire to expose the microchip. "I've got my good friend here," He tapped his earpiece, which was attached to a small microphone that ran along his jaw line. "I'll holler if I need you."
"Don't holler," Vaughn smiled. "You'll blow out my eardrum." He tapped his earpiece as he turned to Sydney. "Follow me, Agent Bristow."
Sydney grabbed her backpack and followed Vaughn towards the back of the small room. There was a door there, and Vaughn led her through it, careful to close it securely behind them. Sydney looked around at the even smaller room they were now in. Its walls were hidden behind floor to ceiling shelves where smaller suitcases and other lost or unclaimed items were stacked. In the center of the room a plastic lunch cooler sat on a small table.
"Are you hungry?" Vaughn asked after reaching up to turn off his microphone. He kept his earpiece live, however, in case Gelman needed to get their attention.
Sydney dropped her backpack to the floor and grinned, looking around the small room. It wasn't much, but it was the best they could do. She found it cozy, especially with one of the two bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling burnt out.
"I'm not sure," She finally answered, moving towards the table. "What have you got?"
"Well, it's not as good as if we could've gone out to eat," Vaughn conceded, reaching to open the cooler. "But I don't know Gelman well enough, and I thought this might be safer." He pulled out two sandwiches, both wrapped in cellophane and still bearing their price tags.
Sydney laughed. "You didn't make this meal," She pointed out.
"I never said I did," Vaughn replied, the corners of his mouth curving into a devilish smile. "Someday, Sydney Bristow, you will taste a home cooked Michael Vaughn meal. But for right now, you'll have to make do with this." He held out one of the sandwiches to her.
Sydney looked at the sandwich and then up at Vaughn's face, his green eyes reflecting the smile on his lips. She realized then that she wasn't hungry and she didn't take the food as it was offered. Instead, she grabbed Vaughn's arm and pulled him to her, giving him no choice but to embrace her as she pressed her body to his. He dropped both sandwiches on the floor as their lips met and the passion they had bottled up finally was allowed to escape.
It was like an overplayed scene from a romantic movie; they assailed each other with a frenzy of kisses and hands. Vaughn pulled Sydney's costume eyeglasses from her face and tossed them onto the table as Sydney worked frantically to loosen his tie. They weren't thinking, then, where this all would lead; all they knew was that they couldn't get enough of each other.
Vaughn backed Sydney up against one of the shelves with a thud as their lips never parted, the kisses deep and meaningful. He clutched her blouse, holding her close as she locked her arms around his body, wanting more, needing nothing less than everything. Vaughn ran his hand down her hip, finding the hem of her skirt as she exhaled sharply at the feeling of his fingers on her thigh. They were lost in each other, both silently pleading with this moment in time to be frozen, when suddenly -
Vaughn jerked back like an injured animal, his hand flying up to his earpiece, his eyes wide and wild. Sydney, her lips burning from his kiss, was momentarily stunned.
"What the -" She stopped abruptly when Vaughn clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Shh!" He admonished sharply, turning to face her, his eyes letting her know that something was terribly, horribly wrong. He withdrew his hand from her mouth as he pressed a finger to his other ear, blocking out all sound but what he was hearing through the small listening device.
"Tell me," Sydney pleaded, her voice a whisper.
"Gelman," Vaughn whispered. "He's not alone, and it's not our guys." He looked stricken, searching Sydney's face for an answer. "They're saying they followed the device. It has a GPS chip in it. They want it back... " Vaughn recoiled again and Sydney reached out to steady him. "They just hit him, I think."
Vaughn listened closely. He could hear Gelman arguing, but it sounded far away. Vaughn concluded the earpiece and microphone must've been knocked from his ear. Then he heard Gelman speak his name and he grabbed Sydney's arm, his eyes hard.
"Gelman just told me they have guns," He told her. "He won't give up the device, and they're threatening to kill him."
"I'm going," Sydney twisted out of Vaughn's grasp and went towards the door. "Call in our guys," She said over her shoulder.
"I'll be right behind you," Vaughn reached down and freed a pistol from his hidden ankle holster, at the same time activating his microphone. He hit the panic button, immediately opening his frequency to any and all agents within range and also broadcasting his words to agents monitoring their mission from the ops center in LA. "O7, this is O9. We have a situation. Two subjects, armed. Mountaineer and O9 fully involved."
Sydney opened the door a mere fraction of an inch and peered into the room. She drew in a sharp breath when her eyes fell upon two men, one of whom was Laughlin, holding handguns to Gelman as he sat in his chair, hands in the air. The device was nowhere to be seen.
"Wait for me," Sydney whispered to Vaughn. "I'm going to try to draw them to me and then take them out." Before Vaughn could argue, Sydney stealthily opened the door and stepped into the room, pulling the door partially closed behind her.
Gelman spotted her first and his eyes darted in her direction, followed closely by the eyes of his two assailants.
"What's going on?" Sydney asked innocently, raising her hands slightly. She wanted to catch them off-guard by making them think she posed no threat.
"You!" Laughlin thundered, taking steps towards her. "You're very clever, aren't you?" He grabbed her arm and roughly jerked her towards his accomplice. "That eyelash trick. Very nice, very nice."
"Where's the device?" Laughlin's partner barked at her, pressing his pistol to Gelman's head. "Tell me or it's going to get very messy in here."
Sydney's eyes darted from the thug to Gelman, where their gaze locked. Gelman's eyes opened wider and his mouth formed a hard line. Sydney knew he was telling her not to give anything up, and she couldn't help but feel pride in his bravery. At the same time, she couldn't ignore his bloody lip and swollen, bruised jaw. Gelman had reminded her of Marshall, and the affection she held for him gave way to a deep, boiling well of anger that would not allow these men to get away with a damn thing.
"The device?" Sydney asked, trying to sound clueless.
"Yes, the device," Laughlin shook her arm, causing real pain. She fought through it to remain in control. "It has a GPS chip in it, girlie, and we traced it here. So now he want it back. Is that so difficult to understand?" He demanded, shoving his revolver into Sydney's ribs. She let out a groan but quickly recovered her composure.
Sydney turned slightly towards her captor and sighed heavily. "You know, I was just following orders," She tried to sound as bitter as possible. "And look where it got me. You know what? Who cares? You can have the stupid thing. It's under there." She made a vague gesture toward the table, and both men immediately followed her movement.
"Where?" Laughlin demanded, his eyes scanning the bare floor. "I don't see it."
"Geez," Sydney rolled her eyes. "It's right there!" She bent slightly and pointed, causing Laughlin to bend slightly, too. And as soon as he was distracted, searching for the item that was not there, Sydney attacked.
Twisting hard to break free of Laughlin's grasp, Sydney brought up both of her arms and landed her elbows square in Laughlin's back. With a grunt, Laughlin was brought to his knees as Sydney whirled to face Gelman.
"Get down!" She screamed just as Laughlin rose up and knocked her solidly in the stomach, sending her back about five feet, the wind knocked clear out of her. She hit the floor with a thud as Gelman dove under the table, covering his head with his arms. Laughlin's accomplice was caught by surprise and stood dumbly waving his weapon in the air, unsure which direction to aim.
Meanwhile, behind the door, Vaughn had been repeating his request for backup. He knew the locations of both of the agents they'd had within the airport and a few more who had been stationed outside. But no one was coming to their aid. Confused and angry, Vaughn barked his request once more, and then he witnessed the hit that sent Sydney sprawling.
Instinctively, Vaughn sprang into action, flying out from behind the door and aiming his weapon at Laughlin's head. "Don't move!" He shouted, his voice ferocious. As the words left his mouth, Laughlin turned and fired. Vaughn dove behind a stack of luggage, providing cover for himself and enough of a distraction for Sydney to sweep Laughlin's feet out from underneath him from where she lay on the floor.
Laughlin went down hard as his partner turned his attention to Vaughn. He shot once and then ducked as Vaughn returned fire, finding a gap between two suitcases. Before he ducked again as gunfire rang out above his head, he glanced at Sydney and was relieved to see that she had gotten back on her feet.
Laughlin managed to stagger back to his feet and was attempting to bring his gun up to shoot Sydney when she landed a wicked roundhouse kick that sent the weapon clattering across the floor where it disappeared underneath a storage bin. Laughlin never saw the next kick coming; Sydney hit him squarely in the head and he dropped to the floor with a bone-shaking thud.
With one opponent down, Sydney whirled to turn her attention to the other. She was horrified to discover that he had Gelman by the neck with his revolver pressed to Gelman's temple.
"Back off!" He screamed, his eyes wild. Sydney took a step back, still in fighting stance, ready for anything. From behind her, she heard Vaughn move around the stacks of luggage and take a few hesitant steps forward. He lowered his gun to his side.
"Easy, easy," Vaughn coaxed. "Let's just take it easy." He was speaking to the thug, but his eyes were locked on Gelman's. Gelman looked terrified, his eyes darting between Sydney and Vaughn, silently pleading for someone to save him.
"Give me the device! Give it to me and let me walk out and no one gets hurt!" The man shouted at them, his desperation nearly tangible.
Sydney and Vaughn exchanged looks, communicating silently. Sydney was out of ideas. If she rushed the guy, he would shoot Gelman. If Vaughn shot him, chances were good that his muscles would tense and he'd pull the trigger. Either way, it looked as though Gelman were in trouble.
Vaughn suddenly remembered the capsule in his pocket. He didn't know if there was any sleep agent left in it, but it was worth a try. The backup had not arrived and they were out of options. Vaughn nodded towards a shelf behind the assailant's head.
"The device is on that shelf," He said, meeting the man's eyes. When he turned to look in the direction Vaughn had indicated, Vaughn reached into his pocket and palmed the capsule.
The guy ran his eyes over the shelf and turned back to Vaughn. "Where? I don't see nothin'."
Vaughn took a step towards the guy. "Right there." He raised his arm to point, and at the same time, depressed the capsule. The small amount that was left hit the man right in the face.
"Hey! What was -" With that, he started to fade, his knees weakening. But time suddenly stood still as an evil grin crossed his face as he started to slide to the floor. With one last effort before he passed out, he pointed the gun back at Gelman and pulled the trigger.
Gelman screamed out and dropped to the floor right next to the man who had just put a bullet in his right shoulder.
Sydney and Vaughn were instantly at Gelman's side. "Agent down, agent down," Vaughn shouted into his microphone. "We need an ambulance, now!"
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Gelman moaned, looking down at the blood darkening his shirt. "Oh, this is bad," He gasped, clutching at Sydney's blouse as she hovered over him. "This is really bad."
"Stay still," Sydney instructed, her voice firm but compassionate. Tears rimmed her eyes but she held back, swallowing the lump in her throat. She looked around for something to put under Gelman's head, but there was nothing. Without another thought, she reached up and yanked the long, curly wig from her head. Balling it up, she slid it under Gelman's head as a pillow and then grabbed Gelman's hand.
Vaughn had unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off quickly. He rolled it up and pressed it to Gelman's wound in an effort to stop the unabated flow of blood. Gelman sputtered, struggling against the pain, struggling against the urge to cry. Vaughn saw this and glanced up at Sydney. She could no longer control it; tears rolled down her cheeks. Vaughn continued to apply pressure to Gelman's shoulder as his desire to comfort Sydney made him momentarily forget himself. With his free hand, he reached over and wiped Sydney's cheek before gently cradling her head and bringing her face close to his own.
Just as Vaughn placed a soft, loving kiss on Sydney's trembling lips, the door burst open and the two agents from the airport rushed the room, guns drawn and ready. They stopped short when they saw Vaughn, Sydney and Gelman among the unconscious gunmen. The agents were out of breath and simply stared at the scene, neither one believing it. They had not missed the kiss, and when they added that to everything else they saw, nothing made much sense.
Vaughn was incensed. He jumped to his feet, pointing a bloody hand at his fellow agents. "Where the hell were you?" He demanded. "How the hell did these guys get past you?"
"Past us?" The agent in the coveralls shot back, incredulous. "How'd they get past you?"
"Yeah!" The other agent chimed in. "Where were you when these guys got in here?" Vaughn was about to comment but was stopped cold when a voice boomed in his ear, transmitted from the ops center in Los Angeles.
"That's a good question, Agent Vaughn," Kendall thundered. "Where were you and Agent Bristow?"
All eyes turned to Vaughn as he turned a slow circle until he was facing Sydney. She was applying pressure to Gelman's wound and talking softly to him, but something made her look up at Vaughn, her eyes questioning. He looked back at her as the sound of loud voices in the hallway followed by the clatter of an ambulance gurney filled the small room. The only sound Vaughn heard, however, was the deafening crash of his world falling in around him.
Sydney sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on the wooden table before her. The memories of that night were still fresh and painful to explore. She licked her lips and tried to continue, but she couldn't find the words she so desperately was seeking. It occurred to her then that there were no words that could make the situation seem any better. It was horrible, and had to be exposed as just that.
Senator Marchard waited a moment in respectful silence before speaking. "Agent Bristow," He said, his voice almost gentle. "Were you aware that the communication device was equipped with a GPS chip?"
Sydney shook her head. "It was the one thing neither SD-6 nor the CIA anticipated," She said. "The whole thing just unfolded in such a bizarre way. I can honestly say that I've never had a mission where all the steps took a wrong turn."
"It says in Agent Vaughn's post-mission report that there was a security scare in another area of Heathrow and that was what prevented any agents from getting to the baggage claim offices," Senator Marchard looked over the document in front of him, then raised his eyes to Sydney's face. "Is that your statement, as well?"
"It's an indisputable fact, Senator," Sydney nodded. "Airport security gave the CIA a signed deposition stating the same." She shifted in the chair, noticing for the first time how tense she was. "Thankfully ambulance personnel were already on the scene. They were able to get to us and get Agent Gelman to the hospital quickly."
"Agent Gelman will recover, and the device was recovered from his pants pocket," the Senator said this as a statement of fact, not a question, but Sydney still nodded in reply. "What happened, Agent Bristow, when you returned to Los Angeles?"
Sydney took a sip of her water and slipped back into memory. She recalled sitting in Kendall's office at the CIA ops center and not daring to even look at Vaughn even though he was sitting less than two feet away. He was doing the same, sitting uncomfortably as Kendall looked at them and tapped a pen on his desktop, his anger filling the small space like a vapor.
"At the very least, Agent Vaughn," Kendall began, clacking the pen into his top desk drawer so hard that it echoed. "You'll be reassigned. There is no way in hell you will remain Agent Bristow's handler."
"Yes, sir," Vaughn conceded, finally daring to meet Kendall's eyes. He couldn't read Kendall's expression, but he thought he sensed a trace of sadness.
"You'll both have to face the IOC," Kendall went on. He looked over at Sydney and met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. "We'll do everything we can to cover for you at SD-6, Agent Bristow, but we won't do it as a favor to you. We don't want to jeopardize the work you two have done so far," He pointedly looked back at Vaughn. "Work that ended, at least on your part, Agent Vaughn, when you crossed a line you were warned repeatedly not to cross."
"Sir," Sydney tried to speak up in Vaughn's defense, but Kendall cut her off.
"And as for you, Agent Bristow, I believe it was your own father who made it clear to you that this kind of behavior was the quickest way to get yourself bounced out of here, or worse, get you killed." His voice rose in a crescendo of frustration. "But that wasn't enough to deter you. I will never understand it."
"We're equally responsible for this," Sydney finally interjected. "It wasn't Agent Vaughn-"
"Syd, stop," Vaughn finally turned to her, his eyes imploring. "Let me take the heat. You still have work to do with SD-6. Whatever happens to me-"
"Isn't that cute," Kendall interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Sydney and Vaughn fell silent. Kendall sat back in his chair, looking from one to the other, his jaw set. "Agent Vaughn," He said finally, waiting for Vaughn to look up before he continued. "You told me once that what you wanted to accomplish most in this job was to be as good an agent as your father. Son, I hate to say it, but this is not the way to make that happen."
The meeting room was absolutely silent as Sydney once again struggled to control her tears. She drew in a shaky breath and raised the drinking glass to her lips before taking a sip followed by a long, thirsty gulp. She was hot and feeling sticky, like she'd been there for days, wearing these clothes for weeks. She'd never felt more out of place, more alone.
"I think we're done for today," Senator Marchard finally said, shuffling the papers before him. "Thank you for your time, Agent Bristow. We'll be-"
"Wait," Sydney found her voice again, raising a hand to the committee, stopping them as they began to gather their things. "I just want to tell you that Agent Vaughn is probably going to come in here tomorrow and try to take all the blame, all the responsibility for this. Please consider what I've said here today. I was just as much a participant in this as he was."
"Thank you, Agent Bristow. We've noted that," Senator Marchard's tone was kind. He could see how weary Sydney was and he wanted to end this session as gently as possible. "We'll be meeting with him tomorrow, and then we'll see you both on Friday."
Sydney nodded and reached down next to her chair for her purse. She was more tired than she could remember being in a long time. As she stood up, her legs felt like lead, and she had to force herself to walk to the door and through it as the same agent from earlier in the day held it open for her. She remembered seeing him, but it felt like it was years ago.
Stepping into the corridor, Sydney stopped in her tracks as she looked up at the wooden bench. Vaughn was still gone, but in his place sat someone else, someone whose arms she went to now, someone who folded her into a much-needed hug. Her father.
*******