Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.

This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The Guardian Angel - Chapter 6

"He wants you to kill a CIA agent?" Vaughn exclaimed, his voice tense as he struggled to comprehend this information. "Why would he do that?"

"What if he already suspects that I'm a double agent?" Sydney said softly as various scenarios played out in her mind.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We have no reason to believe that your cover has been blown." Vaughn paced the room as he tried to figure out a plan. "Who is this agent that he wants dead?"

Sydney pulled out a photo that Sloane had given her earlier and showed it to Vaughn. "Agent Mark Valecta," Vaughn read. "Never heard of him, but I think I have to run this by Devlin before you do anything."

Sydney nodded. "Sloane wants me to finish this mission before the end of the week."

"Damn!" Vaughn pounded his fist against the wall in frustration. "Well, I'll be in touch with you. We'll figure something out. Just don't do anything until I get back to you, okay?"

"Okay, I'll wait for your call."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hey, Syd, you're actually home on the weekend for once!" Will exclaimed in surprise as he walked into the living room.

"So do I get some reward for being such a good girl?" Sydney giggled.

"Hey, let's go out for dinner tonight? We have to try out that new restaurant by the waterfront," Francie suggested.

"It's not Japanese, is it?" Will asked as he made a face.

"What's wrong with Japanese?" Sydney teased. "It's only raw fish!"

Francie laughed as Will wrinkled his nose in disgust at Sydney's comment. "No, Will. It's actually an Italian restaurant." Turning to Sydney, "so what do you say, Syd?"

"Sounds good! Let's get going then!"

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Ugh! I feel like I'm about to burst!" Will groaned as he stared at his empty plate.

Francie laughed as she looked at Will. "Well, I think I would feel that way too after eating one and half entrees and two desserts!"

"Well, you said you couldn't finish it!"

"Whatever. You're just a pig, Will."

Sydney giggled at that last comment. She was thankful for this opportunity to spend time with her friends. It wasn't often that she had this chance. And it allowed her to take her mind off of her upcoming mission. "I wonder if Vaughn has figured out what to do yet," she wondered.

"Ugh, Syd?"

Sydney quickly snapped out of her thoughts and turned to Will. "Oops. Must have blanked out for a second there. What did you say?"

"Nothing," Will answered. "Your phone is ringing."

Sydney reached into her purse and grabbed the phone. "Thanks, Will. I'll just be a few minutes, guys." She quickly walked outside the restaurant onto the boardwalk. Once she was sure that she was safely out of reach, she answered the call. "Vaughn?"

"Syd, where are you?"

"I was just having dinner with Francie and Will by the waterfront. Something wrong?"

"Yeah," Vaughn replied in a grim voice. "Very wrong."

Sydney froze at those words. "What happened, Vaughn."

"It's Agent Valecta," he said slowly. "He's dead."

"He's what?" she asked again, almost dropping the phone in the process.

"We found him at a warehouse in the east end. He was shot in the forehead."

"Who did it?"

"We have no clue. But something is definitely very wrong."

"So now what do I do?"

"Don't do anything. Pretend that nothing is wrong. You don't want to get anyone suspicious."

"Okay," Sydney almost whispered.

"Syd?"

"Yeah, Vaughn?"

"Please be careful."

Sydney put her phone away and stared out into the harbour. Her mind was racing. "Valecta dead? Is this a trap? What if Sloane calls me?"

"Nice view, isn't it?"

Sydney turned in the direction of the voice. "Sark?"

As usual, Sark was wearing a dark-coloured designer suit. The breeze was gently messing up Sark's blond hair as he kept his eyes on the harbour. His trademark smirk-grin was plastered on his face. Suddenly a chill went down Sydney's spine. "It was you."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't fuck with me, Sark," she hissed. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Sark turned to face Sydney with an amused expression. "You are very strange, you know that, Miss Bristow? I have absolutely no idea what you're rambling about."

"I know it was you, Sark. Why don't you just admit it? You killed Agent Valecta."

Sark's eyes lit up at the mention of Agent Valecta's name. "Oh, that's what you're talking about?"

"So you admit it, don't you?"

"Didn't you like the little present I left you?"

Sydney walked right up to Sark and glared at him. "Why?"

Sark simply smiled at her smugly but remained silent.

"Why the hell did you fucking murder him?"

"It was either you or me, Miss Bristow. Either way, he was going to die," he replied coolly with no sense of remorse.

"Who said I was going to kill him?"

"How else would you complete Mr. Sloane's mission?" Sark turned to look at the harbour again. "Don't make it sound like you had a plan all worked out, because you didn't. You had no choice. Agent Valecta was a dead man either way. Consider it a favour that you owe me."

Before Sydney had a chance to respond, Sark turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the boardwalk, fuming. Collecting herself, she took out her phone and dialled Vaughn's number.

"Syd?"

"Meet me at the warehouse. I need to talk to you. It's important."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Sydney paced nervously as Vaughn looked at her with a concerned expression. Sydney seemed much more agitated than normal and this worried Vaughn.

"Guess who I saw after our phone call?"

"Who?"

"Sark."

The concerned expression on Vaughn's face intensified. "Did he see you?"

"Oh yeah, and we had a very interesting conversation."

"What are you talking about, Syd?"

"He did it."

"He killed Valecta?"

"Yep."

"How do you know?"

"He told me."

"And you believe him?"

"You said Agent Valecta was shot in the forehead, right?"

"Yes. One shot to the forehead."

"Were there any signs of a struggle?"

"None."

"Think about it, Vaughn. How easy is it to shoot someone right in the forehead with one shot if the person is free to move around?"

"Not easy. It's damn hard."

"Exactly. One shot, right in the forehead of a well-trained CIA agent who was not bound or restrained. It was a professional who did it."

Vaughn nodded. "I see your point. But that still doesn't mean Sark did it."

"You said that Sark is one of the best in the business. I don't think there are many people who could pull off that kill so easily. But I know he can do it. I've seen him do it. And he can do it in a split second. It's like second nature to him."

"Fuck," Vaughn muttered.

"What?"

"You're not going to like this."

Now it was Vaughn who got up to pace the room. "When I was driving over here, I got word that two of our agents in London were murdered in cold blood a couple of days ago. One was shot in the forehead in almost the exact same place as Valecta. The other was shot in the back of the head."

"Oh my god," Sydney whispered as her hand covered her mouth. "And now you think Sark killed all of them."

"That's not the big problem, though. There are some in the CIA who think you killed Valecta."

"What?" Sydney cried.

"Devlin believes you and of course I do too. But things don't look good at all, given your mission at SD-6. And if they link up the murders in London." Vaughn sighed and looked at Sydney with a grave expression. "I think they are trying to turn the CIA against you."

~ to be continued ~