Author's Note: Well, this thing just keeps growing. We're at part four and it will have to go to at least part five. I'll try to have the next part up soon, but real life might delay me for a couple days. HUGE thanks to everyone who left feedback, you guys make my day.
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"Where's Vaughn?"
Dad looks up at the driver, who shakes his head. My mind starts whirling with the possibilities.
"I'm going back in."
"No, Sydney. For all we know he's already out on the other side. If you go back in there, it will only put both of you in jeopardy."
"What if he's not out?" Dad clenches his jaw and doesn't say anything. We both know there's no good solution.
"We need to get Weiss some help, quickly."
I jerk my sleeve up to see my watch. It's been nine minutes since Vaughn was told to get out.
"If he's not here in thirty seconds, I'm going back." Dad nods. Weiss makes an indistinct noise, starting to come around.
My watch's second hand is standing still, teasing me. I'm glancing constantly between it and the area around us. No one's coming.
28…29…30.
"I'm going."
"Be careful."
I run across the lawn to the nearest wall of the house, flattening myself against it. I round the corner and see a long expanse of bare wall, dotted with a number of large windows. I make my way to the third one down, from which bright light is streaming out. The noise grows as I near it. I peer in, and see it's one of many that opens into the grand ballroom. I search for any sign of Vaughn or Salencia, but can't see either through the crowd.
"Looking for something?" Now it's not just my heart, but my entire body that freezes. I know that voice.
"Sark, what are you doing here?"
"Turn around slowly, Sydney, and see for yourself."
I start to turn -- "Uh, uh, hands up." He emphasizes the point with the click of a handgun.
Gritting my teeth, I raise my hands slightly, and turn slowly around. I'm greeted with the sight of Sark, dressed in a black suit, holding a glock, and smiling at me the same way he did in Estonia. He's standing just too far away for me to kick him without taking a rather deadly step forward.
"We seem to keep meeting this way."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play with me, Sydney. We both know what you're here for. I seem to remember once before, we made a rather profitable alliance."
"Go to hell."
"Now, now, Sydney. Blind curses don't suit you. Don't you want to hear what I have to offer?"
I don't answer.
"I'll take that as a yes. Now, it seems an associate of mine has run into an associate of yours." As he says this, he pulls a long-range walkie-talkie out of his pocket. He presses the button. "Are you in place?"
The only response is a muffled thunk. "Speak up, Mr. Vaughn."
A strained voice rasps through. "Sydney, whatev--" Sark releases the button.
"That's enough." I start to reach behind me. "Uh, uh. Keep your hands there. Now, as I said before, I have a proposition for you."
"What?" I spit out the word. He smiles again.
"You return to the van, bring me the CIA's little plaything, and I'll give you back your little plaything. Are we clear?"
"No."
"Now, Sydney, I think we both know the lengths I'm ready to go to for the Rambaldi device. And we both know the lengths you're ready to go to for your -- friend."
It kills me to say the words, but bargaining is the last chance I've got.
"That could have been a recording. How do I know you have him? How do I know he's even alive?"
Sark keeps smiling.
"You don't."
"No."
"Sydney, I don't have time to argue. You have 90 seconds to get the statue and meet me back here. Go."
I want to argue, I want to scream, I want to do anything but follow Sark's orders. But I don't have a choice. I slide my way back down the wall, and as soon as I reach the corner, I take off running.