Sydney Dearest
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Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not have the pleasure holding the ownership of the characters and ideas of Alias.
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Caged
"What is your full name?"
"Sydney Anne Bristow." Sydney replied distantly. She tired to recollect how exactly she had gotten here, into a small dark room with a fat balding man asking her questions that he probably already knew. There wasn't any furniture, beside the two chairs that Sydney and the man had occupied. They weren't even close to being comfortable, which Sydney thought was intended. There were also two guards standing behind the fat man carrying gun holsters.
"Your date of birth?"
"Um."
"Miss Bristow. Do I need to repeat myself?" She was still groggy from the tranquillizer. How long she had been out, she didn't know. She woke in a cot in a glass cell. Just a few minutes later the two guards came to her cell and took her to this room.
"April 14, 1975."
"The name of your mother?"
"Irina Derevko."
"Father's name?"
"I'm sure you already know. In fact, I'm sure that my father has told you all of the questions you're asking now. So can you please stop wasting my time?"
The man sighed heavily and took off his glasses. He wiped them with his shirt and put them back on. "Miss Bristow, I don't think you'll have anything better to do for a long time. Please just answer the questions. Now, I will ask you again, what is your father's name?"
"Jack Bristow." Sydney gave up. She couldn't do anything else. They wouldn't torture her; this was the CIA wasn't it? They never had fun with their prisoners, all because of those countless laws. Foolish Americans. There was a great example of their foolishness right in front of her. She didn't know why he had to go so slow, almost annunciating every single question he was asking her. Just because she lived in Russia most of her life, didn't mean she was completely unaware of the English language. Her mother had always said that she never caught the Russian accent. It was probably due to the constant trips and missions. She never really had a home, just several houses scattered around the world.
"Where were you born?"
"LA."
"Los Angeles, California?" No shit.
"Yes." Sydney looked around the room, trying to find something else to occupy her time. Then she noticed for the first time that there was a mirror on the other side of the room. It had been so dark she had not noticed. They're probably watching me, making sure I'm a good little girl. She knew that she wouldn't be about to fight them. She wouldn't be able to get out, at least not by herself. Or maybe she could.
Vaughn looked from the window studying Sydney intensely. What flowed through a mind of a terrorist? He shifted his left arm uncomfortable in it's sling. Soon Weiss came in handing him a file.
"The full report from the captain, apparently the guards had been drinking. Amazing how much seriousness the Italians give American issues nowadays."
"Thanks."
"Hey, so that's Bristow's daughter?" Weiss asked, checking her out. Vaughn nodded. "I hate to say it, but Carlos is right, she has a great body! I think I can see so muscles from here. They don't look too big. Just big enough, you know not like some women where they almost look like men and-"
Vaughn grimaced, causing wrinkles on his forehead. "Get serious, that woman has ended countless lives. She's the daughter of the most notorious terrorist in the world, and all you are thinking is whether she looks good in a pair of jeans?"
"I was thinking of something more on the lines of a bikini, but jeans are good too."
"You are absolutely hopeless. Get out of here!"
"Alright, alright. I just wanted to give the file."
"Okay." Just as Vaughn reviewed the file and turned around. He heard a loud gun shot and breaking of the two-sided mirror. He instantly ducked and headed for the corner, pulling out his gun. A few moments later Sydney jumped through the window.
"Freeze." He stood up not even blinking.
"Don't you remember the last time you said that?" She said pointing the gun straight at his head. "Look what happened." She referred to his arm.
"The last time I told you to freeze, I shot you in the arm with a tranquillizer. Now with a real gun, you could image what could happen." Vaughn said stern and strong. He wouldn't be afraid this time. He was ready.
"I'm going to get the hell out of here, that's what's going to happen." Sydney quickly spat.
"I don't think so," Vaughn replied shaking his head. "There are at least a hundred trained agents in this building alone. Not including the ones stationed outside. If you even get past me, you'll never even see a window. In fact, I think agents are coming right now, I can hear their foots steps." Sydney took a moment to listen. He was right.
"Well, at least I'll have you to hold hostage." She quickly fired and nicked him in the leg. Making him drop out of his readied position, she grabbed him and held the gun to his head. "You'll get me out of here." He was about the drag him out the door when he hollered, "Wait, wait. This won't solve anything. The CIA eventually gets you again, either here, or five blocks away. It's a CIA operations base we have to be prepared. If you just stop right now, and surrender, we won't be forced to put you in maximum security prison on a remote island."
"It's too late, I'm using you. Don't get too scared; I'll kill quickly, don't worry."
"I'm not scared. You won't kill me."
"And what makes you think I won't kill you right now?"
"I have an instinct." Just as he said, the agents burst into the room, and half a dozen guns pointed at Sydney.
"I'm not trying to play you. Just put the gun down, and I'll make sure you aren't shipped off to a remote island." Vaughn whispered. Sydney looked around at the agents ready to fire.
"Fine" and she dropped the gun. Vaughn sighed in relief and a couple of agent cuffed her and took her away. Just then he once again realized that he was nicked in the leg. Weiss came in and helped him to the medic. As Vaughn walked out of the room, he noticed Agent Watson, the interrogator, wake from unconsciousness. Good she didn't kill anyone. Once was cleaned up, he was asked to meet with Kendall.
"Don't let that happen again."
"I don't have the capability to stop something like that to happen sir. She's clearly a dangerous woman. I don't know why we are dealing with this."
"She has some valuable Intel, and I want to make sure that we get it before we lose her. I am reassigning you to head Sydney Bristow's surveillance." Yes, yes, yes! Vaughn thought. "I want to know where she's been for the past twenty years with her mother. Read her file again. I want to know EVERYTHING we can get. I'm sure whatever Intel she has to provide with help us even more. You do this write Michel, and I will assure you a promotion."
"Yes sir. How will I get the Intel is she is incorporative?"
"We at the CIA don't like the use certain methods, but this is important, I'm willing to look over a couple of things."
Vaughn nodded. This must be serious, never in all of history had Vaughn heard of Kendall bending the rules, for anyone.
"Oh, but take a few days off, you look like shit." Kendall said, not being sarcastic whatsoever.
::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not have the pleasure holding the ownership of the characters and ideas of Alias.
::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::
Caged
"What is your full name?"
"Sydney Anne Bristow." Sydney replied distantly. She tired to recollect how exactly she had gotten here, into a small dark room with a fat balding man asking her questions that he probably already knew. There wasn't any furniture, beside the two chairs that Sydney and the man had occupied. They weren't even close to being comfortable, which Sydney thought was intended. There were also two guards standing behind the fat man carrying gun holsters.
"Your date of birth?"
"Um."
"Miss Bristow. Do I need to repeat myself?" She was still groggy from the tranquillizer. How long she had been out, she didn't know. She woke in a cot in a glass cell. Just a few minutes later the two guards came to her cell and took her to this room.
"April 14, 1975."
"The name of your mother?"
"Irina Derevko."
"Father's name?"
"I'm sure you already know. In fact, I'm sure that my father has told you all of the questions you're asking now. So can you please stop wasting my time?"
The man sighed heavily and took off his glasses. He wiped them with his shirt and put them back on. "Miss Bristow, I don't think you'll have anything better to do for a long time. Please just answer the questions. Now, I will ask you again, what is your father's name?"
"Jack Bristow." Sydney gave up. She couldn't do anything else. They wouldn't torture her; this was the CIA wasn't it? They never had fun with their prisoners, all because of those countless laws. Foolish Americans. There was a great example of their foolishness right in front of her. She didn't know why he had to go so slow, almost annunciating every single question he was asking her. Just because she lived in Russia most of her life, didn't mean she was completely unaware of the English language. Her mother had always said that she never caught the Russian accent. It was probably due to the constant trips and missions. She never really had a home, just several houses scattered around the world.
"Where were you born?"
"LA."
"Los Angeles, California?" No shit.
"Yes." Sydney looked around the room, trying to find something else to occupy her time. Then she noticed for the first time that there was a mirror on the other side of the room. It had been so dark she had not noticed. They're probably watching me, making sure I'm a good little girl. She knew that she wouldn't be about to fight them. She wouldn't be able to get out, at least not by herself. Or maybe she could.
Vaughn looked from the window studying Sydney intensely. What flowed through a mind of a terrorist? He shifted his left arm uncomfortable in it's sling. Soon Weiss came in handing him a file.
"The full report from the captain, apparently the guards had been drinking. Amazing how much seriousness the Italians give American issues nowadays."
"Thanks."
"Hey, so that's Bristow's daughter?" Weiss asked, checking her out. Vaughn nodded. "I hate to say it, but Carlos is right, she has a great body! I think I can see so muscles from here. They don't look too big. Just big enough, you know not like some women where they almost look like men and-"
Vaughn grimaced, causing wrinkles on his forehead. "Get serious, that woman has ended countless lives. She's the daughter of the most notorious terrorist in the world, and all you are thinking is whether she looks good in a pair of jeans?"
"I was thinking of something more on the lines of a bikini, but jeans are good too."
"You are absolutely hopeless. Get out of here!"
"Alright, alright. I just wanted to give the file."
"Okay." Just as Vaughn reviewed the file and turned around. He heard a loud gun shot and breaking of the two-sided mirror. He instantly ducked and headed for the corner, pulling out his gun. A few moments later Sydney jumped through the window.
"Freeze." He stood up not even blinking.
"Don't you remember the last time you said that?" She said pointing the gun straight at his head. "Look what happened." She referred to his arm.
"The last time I told you to freeze, I shot you in the arm with a tranquillizer. Now with a real gun, you could image what could happen." Vaughn said stern and strong. He wouldn't be afraid this time. He was ready.
"I'm going to get the hell out of here, that's what's going to happen." Sydney quickly spat.
"I don't think so," Vaughn replied shaking his head. "There are at least a hundred trained agents in this building alone. Not including the ones stationed outside. If you even get past me, you'll never even see a window. In fact, I think agents are coming right now, I can hear their foots steps." Sydney took a moment to listen. He was right.
"Well, at least I'll have you to hold hostage." She quickly fired and nicked him in the leg. Making him drop out of his readied position, she grabbed him and held the gun to his head. "You'll get me out of here." He was about the drag him out the door when he hollered, "Wait, wait. This won't solve anything. The CIA eventually gets you again, either here, or five blocks away. It's a CIA operations base we have to be prepared. If you just stop right now, and surrender, we won't be forced to put you in maximum security prison on a remote island."
"It's too late, I'm using you. Don't get too scared; I'll kill quickly, don't worry."
"I'm not scared. You won't kill me."
"And what makes you think I won't kill you right now?"
"I have an instinct." Just as he said, the agents burst into the room, and half a dozen guns pointed at Sydney.
"I'm not trying to play you. Just put the gun down, and I'll make sure you aren't shipped off to a remote island." Vaughn whispered. Sydney looked around at the agents ready to fire.
"Fine" and she dropped the gun. Vaughn sighed in relief and a couple of agent cuffed her and took her away. Just then he once again realized that he was nicked in the leg. Weiss came in and helped him to the medic. As Vaughn walked out of the room, he noticed Agent Watson, the interrogator, wake from unconsciousness. Good she didn't kill anyone. Once was cleaned up, he was asked to meet with Kendall.
"Don't let that happen again."
"I don't have the capability to stop something like that to happen sir. She's clearly a dangerous woman. I don't know why we are dealing with this."
"She has some valuable Intel, and I want to make sure that we get it before we lose her. I am reassigning you to head Sydney Bristow's surveillance." Yes, yes, yes! Vaughn thought. "I want to know where she's been for the past twenty years with her mother. Read her file again. I want to know EVERYTHING we can get. I'm sure whatever Intel she has to provide with help us even more. You do this write Michel, and I will assure you a promotion."
"Yes sir. How will I get the Intel is she is incorporative?"
"We at the CIA don't like the use certain methods, but this is important, I'm willing to look over a couple of things."
Vaughn nodded. This must be serious, never in all of history had Vaughn heard of Kendall bending the rules, for anyone.
"Oh, but take a few days off, you look like shit." Kendall said, not being sarcastic whatsoever.