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.

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The Guardian Angel - Chapter 7

Sydney walked briskly into the offices of Credit Dauphine. This was her first meeting with Sloane since she was given the mission. Despite her unease, Vaughn insisted that she meet with Sloane and try to test the waters with him. She had no idea how much Sloane knew about what really happened but she couldn't risk getting him suspicious. She just had to be alert and improvise as the need arose.

Sydney entered Sloane's office to find the man smiling at him. Before Sydney even had a chance to sit down, Sloane rose to his feet and greeted her enthusiastically. "Well done, Sydney, well done!!"

"So I guess it wasn't a trap," Sydney thought. She smiled back and tried her best to keep the sickening feeling in her stomach under control. "I did my best," she simply replied.

"Excellent, excellent," Sloane continued, obviously pleased with the outcome of the mission. "Just like I said before, you were the only one we could have counted on for this mission."

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Squinting his eyes as the sunlight flooded the room, Sark sighed and closed his black diary. He had forgotten the exact time when he first started keeping a diary, but it had become an important part of his life. After all, he really couldn't trust anyone enough to tell them anything important, given his line of work. The only avenue that he had to vent, therefore, was through writing. He carefully put the diary back into his briefcase and got dressed. After a quick check of itinerary on his laptop, Sark headed out the door.

He was just exiting the elevator into the lobby when his cell phone rang. He quickly walked into a secluded area. "Sark," he answered softly.

"It's for real."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Fuck," Sark muttered, his voice betraying his anger and frustration.

"Do you need any help, Mr. Sark?"

"No, I'll manage. If you find out anything else, let me know immediately."

"I will, Mr. Sark."

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"So, what did he say?"

"Nothing much," Sydney answered as she walked out of the grocery store. "He just congratulated me. He seemed quite pleased, though."

"Hmm, looks like he genuinely believes that you killed Valecta."

"Maybe, but I don't trust him. It could still be a trap."

"I guess. Just keep your eyes open, Syd. We still don't know enough info about who is behind all this and why they are doing it."

"I don't feel too good about this, Vaughn," Sydney replied. "It seems like someone is always one step ahead of us."

"I know what you mean, Syd. I'm still checking into your speculation about a mole here at the CIA. I haven't found anything yet, though."

"Well, I should let you go. Let me know if you find anything."

"I will. Be careful, Syd," Vaughn answered.

Sydney put the phone back in her purse and continued walking. She glanced at the chic boutiques that lined the streets and the cafes that were bustling with activity. She stopped to admire a beautiful dress when her purse was yanked off of her. She turned fast enough to see a high school kid running away with it before starting to give chase. Her face soon bore a menacing scowl as she vowed to teach this kid a lesson.

She was surprised at how fast this kid was running, although the gap was closing quickly. The kid ran into a narrow alley that turned out to be a dead end. "Give it up, kiddo, before I get really angry."

"I love how you sound when you are angry, Miss Bristow."

"You again? Don't you have anything better to do, Sark. Or did Irina demote you for your incompetence after your numerous bungles?"

Sark chuckled at Sydney's feistiness. "I really admire your wit, Miss Bristow. But I'm afraid we're short on time today."

"Oh really? Another pathetic errand to run, Sark?"

Sark smiled. "An errand? Yes. Whether its pathetic or not, we'll just have to wait and see." Then his smile disappeared, replaced by a serious, ruthless look. "Get in the car, Miss Bristow."

"Oh, are you asking me out on a date, Sark? 'Cause I'm not interested," Sydney smirked. "You're not really my type."

This time there was no smirk or smile from Sark. His facial expression remained unchanged. "Unless you want to visit Mr. Tippen at the cemetery, I would shut your mouth and just get in the car - now."

Sydney's face became ghost white at Sark's last comments. "You.you.you've kidnapped Will?"

"I wouldn't say kidnapped, Miss Bristow. Let's just say he is a guest of ours - for now."

"Don't you dare hurt him, Sark!!" Sydney yelled as she tried to hold back her tears.

"I don't take threats too kindly, you know."

"Damn you, Sark!!"

As Sydney struggled with her emotions, she felt a needle prick at her neck. She turned around to see the kid who stole her purse with a syringe in his hand.

"Why you." Sydney raised her hand to strike the kid when her vision began to blur. "What did you put in that." She never finished her sentence as her eyes closed and she slid limply to the ground.

~ to be continued ~