She sat in the conference room where she wanted to kill Sloane so
much. He sat at the front of the black marble table with Dixon and
Marshall. She kept a professional smile and tone. Sloane started to
discuss the latest snatch and go but of course, it would never work out
that way. He brought three separate pictures of three unique looking
people. They were unknown except for the fact that they were former owners
of the Rambaldi book that Sloane was chasing around for. He had the entire
collection with exception of fourth book, seventh chapter. 4.7, as it
became to be known. But now, the mysterious 4.7 was in the hands of the
newest player on the scene: Paul Marx. He had the book at his mansion in
Sicily, where Sydney would go as a high price call girl, seduce Marx as
much as necessary to keep him occupied while Dixon broke into the building
and grabbed the book-
"Wouldn't it be easier if I disabled Marx and had Dixon outside as my eyes?" Sydney piped up, gritting her teeth to keep the professional façade in check. Her eyes glanced back and forth between Dixon, who looked relieved and hurt all at the same time.
Sloane smiled his blood thirsty smile, "Wonderful idea, Sydney. Okay, slight change of plans. Sydney, you'll be solo on this one. I think you'll be fine. Make sure you stop by op tech before you go. Thank you that will be all." He left the conference room into his office with the manner of a truly patriotic man.
Sydney looked up from her black folder and into the chocolate brown eyes of Marshall, who looked as nervous as anything. "Hi, Agent Bristow, Agent Dixon. How are you doing today? I mean, the weather is a little colder than we're used too but overall I think it's really nice. I don't seem to mind it all that much. As long as the sun is out, I'm-"
"Marshall." Sydney leaned forward and placed her hand on the table in a sympathetic tone. She smiled softly and looked at Dixon with an understanding glance.
"Okay, thank you, Miss Bristow." He picked up a ring for moment and played it over in his hands. It was an emerald ring set in gold, "Looks like a normal ring, right? There's enough Hal idol in this ring to knock a grown man out for three to seven hours. Just press the stone against any part of his body with a pulse and you're good to go. But you gotta do it hard or else it won't work. Instead of 'night 'night Mr. Marx, it'll be fight fight Mr. Marx." Marshall took the ring, set in a black velvet box and continued to gather the rest of his supplies. "So uh, be careful. I heard this guy's tough but I'm sure being what a wonderful agent you are, Miss Bristow, you'll be fine."
"Thank you, Marshall." Sydney and Dixon got to their feet and started to move towards their desks. And as they did so, she began to reflect on her mission. Keeping her professional tone and attitude, Sydney and Dixon left for their desks, keeping with the typical small talk that they had become accustomed to.
Sydney reclined in her black chair for a moment and inhaled deeply. "Hey listen, you want anything? I'm gonna head out for lunch." She rose, shutting her laptop quietly and adjusted the black linen blazer around her body. She scanned the place quickly, more out of habit than anything else.
Dixon looked up from his SOP papers and shook his head, "Nah, that's okay. I'm meeting Diane for lunch in a few minutes." And he turned back to his paperwork.
"Okay. Have fun." She replied and made to exit the building. She did so rather quickly and felt the harsh dampness of the parking garage flood her pores. This was one of the dingiest places in LA and she had to be there every single freaking day. The familiar two beeps was heard as she unlocked her black SUV and climbed in. She was armed with a black pen and brown paper bag. Time to get on with standard operating procedure! She drove to her typical spot, wrote out the entire operation in great detail, and dropped it off in a garbage tin.
It wasn't until nine that night that "Joey's Pizza?" called and she slipped out of the house, unknown by Francie. The roads were dark now and tails were both more difficult and easier to spot. She blasted the radio in her ears to keep her awake. That day had been a long and extremely trying day. It was harder and harder to suppress her desire to kill Arvin Sloane. She parked her car in the traditional spot and ran, in her running shoes, into the warehouse. She knew Vaughn was expecting to hear her heeled shoes against the pavement but these were much more comfortable for her. She had changed from her black stuffy suit to a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.
"Hey." She greeted as she turned the corner. There was Vaughn, carefully studying his empty hands. He looked so deep in thought that she almost didn't want to disturb him.
"Hey." He jumped up, as a sign of formality and greeted her, "How's it going?"
She didn't bother to a reply but made her way over to him/
"So I read you paper. Your shortest one to date." He sat back down and politely motioned for her to do the same, "You have to seduce him? Another one?" He asked, wrinkling his brow and getting to his feet from the customary crate he had been propped up against.
Sydney found an empty grate and collapsed down upon it. "Yup. Go as far as humanly possible." She repeated the phrase she had heard so many times. "I swear, you would think that I was a hooker." She scoffed at this. She spent more time seducing men and being their 'friend' than anything else.
"Yeah." He laughed ruefully, "I hear that this guy, Marx, is dangerous."
"That's what Marshall said, believe it or not. But hey, name a man that I've had to seduce that isn't dangerous."
"True but this guy......he's notorious for abusing his friends...he once beat a girl with a baseball bat..." He let his voice trail off as he gathered his thoughts, "I'm going to Sicily with you." He said rather suddenly and looked to her for a reaction.
And he got the one he expected. Her eyes bulged out of her head and her mouth dropped open, "You're what? You're what? You can't! There's no way in hell even you can pull this off!" She exclaimed. "What if Sloane changes his mind and sends Dixon?"
"Syd, hold on. There's something that you don't know about. Inside the book, there's a white cording that is needed for one of Rambaldi's devices. Sloane wants you to get the book so he gets the cord. But he can never it get-"
"So, we'll make a replica of it. We've done it before." She responded quickly.
"But we don't know what it looks like." Vaughn countered. "And there's more."
"What?"
"Those three people, Boris and Anya Chesnulatich and Alfred Koslovin, they're being held captive by Marx. They were kidnapped from their Moscow residences and taken to Sicily. They're the three leading expects in Rambaldi, third only to Sloane and then your mother. They're being held captive in the basement of his building. So, you will have to go in and extract them as well. I'll be outside in a van with a medic team standing by." He concluded his little speech and the worry lines started to dissipate from his brow. He had gotten through his entire little speech and now, it was the beloved question and answer period and by the look on her face, she had a lot of questions for him. She had that wonderful sparkle in her eye that proved to him that she had a list. A very long, drawn out, intense battery of questions waiting to be fired.
"Why doesn't Sloane know about this?" She immediately started, getting to her feet. "Why are they being held captive? Are they being tortured? How do we know that-"
"Will you let me answer one question but you ask the next?" She puckered her lips in a feeling of defeat.
Vaughn's eyes were so serious and emotionless. His lips moved through the answers that he had been given only a few hours ago. He had no idea what was going on with this mission and this was just as new to her as it was him.
Flash forward a little bit to the mansion. Sydney walked in, rang the doorbell and announced her arrival. "So, you already?" Vaughn's voice came over her ear, causing her to smile a little bit. She smiled a reply, unable to answer as the door swung open. A man with a pale drawn face answered the door.
"Hello." He greeted and watched her with interest as she started to become Anne Ryan a little more, wearing nothing but a white gauzy halter dress that had a large keyhole from neck to below her navel. It was cut close on either side and from the back; it looked as though she only partially dressed. It was her most revealing outfit to date, if you can believe that one. The ring was placed on her hand, her comm. link in her ear, and other odds and ends.
"Hello, I'm here for a Mister Marx?" She brandished a black invitation with silver lettering from her large white bag. "This says I'm to meet him now..would you tell him that Anne Ryan is here?" She pulled her cherry painted lips into a smile, a false one at that.
The black painted door was pulled open to reveal the white marble foyer with a staircase that looked as though it was taken straight out of Tara from Gone with the Wind. Everything gold and gilded, with a high taste in Italian decor. The man from the door ushered her up the stairs and down the long winding corridors to a bedroom in the far corner. The door opened slowly and there a man with Olive toned skin, black hair, cut close to his scalp, and Devil blue eyes. He was propped up on his bed of white sheets complete with canopy. You would think a man of his stature would be less in touch with feminine side.
"You must be Annie." He greeted.
"Yes sir." She walked into the room and strutted into bedroom.
He propped up his body again so he could see more of her body, "Ah. You're a pretty one. Prettier than the last one."
"If she doesn't kill this guy, I will." Vaughn scoffed to the medic team. They turned away from their busy work and looked towards Vaughn with disinterested looks. "Sorry." He replied apologetically.
Sydney continued, "Well, you get what you pay for, I guess." And she sat down on the bed next to him, setting her bag near the edge of the bed and crossing her legs innocently at the ankle. Her brown hair was covered by a platinum blonde wig that was pin straight and feel to her mid back. From where the halter was tied and the length of her hair and how close the top was cut, she looked like she was partially dressed from the back. The short length of the skirt or the white fishnets or the white Roman sandals certainly did not help with this at all. She completely looked like a prostitute.
"Let's skip the small talk, shall we?" Marx wrapped his arm around her waist, bring her body towards his. His venomous lips began to press against her body as he threw her down on her back, straddling her in the process. "Is there anything you don't do?" His face was hovering inches above hers as his hands groped down to undo her top.
She recoiled slightly, "I don't kiss on the mouth." And that was true. She had managed to go through this humiliating process without ever kissing any of them on the mouth..well, except Noah and that was totally different. She was in love with him or then there was Marshall, but that was different too. As she felt his body rub against hers and him moaning and groaning in her ear. Lord was this man vile. He began to get a little rougher, biting at her shoulders and practically drawing blood around her stomach. She bucked him off and flipped him over so that the she was on top. Her legs were around his skinny frame and she sat up straight on his wire trim stomach. "You wanna go for it?" She started to fool around with the white cording of the top and Marx was clearly enjoying this. And just as the strings began to loosen and more of her was revealed, she started to lean forward on him, pressing and breaking the ring into his arm or his neck, somewhere she wasn't quite sure. And without a doubt, he was out cold in a few minutes.
"Well, at least she's a lady." One of the female agents looked towards Vaughn and shrugged her shoulders. Vaughn smiled humbly at her and waited for the familiar voice to fill the black van.
Showtime "Boot camp, this is Mountaineer. Marx is out cold, where am I going?" She tapped her comm. link and started to tie her dress back up before grabbing a long black sweater off of a nearby chair. She tied the robe, as it turned out to be, tightly around her waist and cautiously made her way outside of the door but not before she grabbed her bag that would later hold 4.7.
"Down the southernmost hallway, down the far stairs to the basement, third door on your left is 4.7, fifth door are the hostages." Vaughn rattled on the information. *That's my girl.*
Sydney did as she was told and was just about to step out into the hallway when she heard a loud groan from the bedroom, followed by a slew of swears. The Hal idol didn't work! He staggered out into the hallway as she tried to sprint for safety but was soon caught by two guards. She quickly overcame them but Marx shouted out for her. Obviously defeated, she turned around, "I hate making things too easy." She replied demurely, playing with the black tie on her robe, "I think it's more fun to work with a moving target." Her hands started to shed the robe in sort of a mock strip tease to no music.
Marx stood in the doorway and glared, "We do things my way." He came up towards her, griped her tightly in his hands, squeezing hard, and then moved to slap her. She immediately pulled away and hit him hard upside the head with her leg. As her luck was going, he didn't knock out; instead he came at her with more punches, kicks, and unfortunately bites. She fought back hard though and within a few punches, he was knocked out. She grabbed the tie from her robe and bound his hands through the hinges of the door, gagging him with his tie that was loosening around his neck.
"Mountaineer, do you copy? Is everything clear?" Vaughn's voice blared over her head as she fought but as she finished tying up Marx, his tone turned more to what she was used to hearing, "Sydney!"
"I'm okay. Hal idol didn't work." She replied, slightly out of breath. Confidant that Marx was no longer going to bother her, she made her way down the hallway and down the stairs. The book was relatively unguarded and easy to grab. With it stored tightly away in the bag, she made towards the hostages. "Mountaineer to Boot Camp-"
"Mountaineer to Boot Camp?" a familiar voice repeated.
She really didn't want to turn around. No, she absolutely dreaded turning around. "Dixon?" Her voice wavered.
Okay! So what do you think? PLEASE REVIEW!
"Wouldn't it be easier if I disabled Marx and had Dixon outside as my eyes?" Sydney piped up, gritting her teeth to keep the professional façade in check. Her eyes glanced back and forth between Dixon, who looked relieved and hurt all at the same time.
Sloane smiled his blood thirsty smile, "Wonderful idea, Sydney. Okay, slight change of plans. Sydney, you'll be solo on this one. I think you'll be fine. Make sure you stop by op tech before you go. Thank you that will be all." He left the conference room into his office with the manner of a truly patriotic man.
Sydney looked up from her black folder and into the chocolate brown eyes of Marshall, who looked as nervous as anything. "Hi, Agent Bristow, Agent Dixon. How are you doing today? I mean, the weather is a little colder than we're used too but overall I think it's really nice. I don't seem to mind it all that much. As long as the sun is out, I'm-"
"Marshall." Sydney leaned forward and placed her hand on the table in a sympathetic tone. She smiled softly and looked at Dixon with an understanding glance.
"Okay, thank you, Miss Bristow." He picked up a ring for moment and played it over in his hands. It was an emerald ring set in gold, "Looks like a normal ring, right? There's enough Hal idol in this ring to knock a grown man out for three to seven hours. Just press the stone against any part of his body with a pulse and you're good to go. But you gotta do it hard or else it won't work. Instead of 'night 'night Mr. Marx, it'll be fight fight Mr. Marx." Marshall took the ring, set in a black velvet box and continued to gather the rest of his supplies. "So uh, be careful. I heard this guy's tough but I'm sure being what a wonderful agent you are, Miss Bristow, you'll be fine."
"Thank you, Marshall." Sydney and Dixon got to their feet and started to move towards their desks. And as they did so, she began to reflect on her mission. Keeping her professional tone and attitude, Sydney and Dixon left for their desks, keeping with the typical small talk that they had become accustomed to.
Sydney reclined in her black chair for a moment and inhaled deeply. "Hey listen, you want anything? I'm gonna head out for lunch." She rose, shutting her laptop quietly and adjusted the black linen blazer around her body. She scanned the place quickly, more out of habit than anything else.
Dixon looked up from his SOP papers and shook his head, "Nah, that's okay. I'm meeting Diane for lunch in a few minutes." And he turned back to his paperwork.
"Okay. Have fun." She replied and made to exit the building. She did so rather quickly and felt the harsh dampness of the parking garage flood her pores. This was one of the dingiest places in LA and she had to be there every single freaking day. The familiar two beeps was heard as she unlocked her black SUV and climbed in. She was armed with a black pen and brown paper bag. Time to get on with standard operating procedure! She drove to her typical spot, wrote out the entire operation in great detail, and dropped it off in a garbage tin.
It wasn't until nine that night that "Joey's Pizza?" called and she slipped out of the house, unknown by Francie. The roads were dark now and tails were both more difficult and easier to spot. She blasted the radio in her ears to keep her awake. That day had been a long and extremely trying day. It was harder and harder to suppress her desire to kill Arvin Sloane. She parked her car in the traditional spot and ran, in her running shoes, into the warehouse. She knew Vaughn was expecting to hear her heeled shoes against the pavement but these were much more comfortable for her. She had changed from her black stuffy suit to a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.
"Hey." She greeted as she turned the corner. There was Vaughn, carefully studying his empty hands. He looked so deep in thought that she almost didn't want to disturb him.
"Hey." He jumped up, as a sign of formality and greeted her, "How's it going?"
She didn't bother to a reply but made her way over to him/
"So I read you paper. Your shortest one to date." He sat back down and politely motioned for her to do the same, "You have to seduce him? Another one?" He asked, wrinkling his brow and getting to his feet from the customary crate he had been propped up against.
Sydney found an empty grate and collapsed down upon it. "Yup. Go as far as humanly possible." She repeated the phrase she had heard so many times. "I swear, you would think that I was a hooker." She scoffed at this. She spent more time seducing men and being their 'friend' than anything else.
"Yeah." He laughed ruefully, "I hear that this guy, Marx, is dangerous."
"That's what Marshall said, believe it or not. But hey, name a man that I've had to seduce that isn't dangerous."
"True but this guy......he's notorious for abusing his friends...he once beat a girl with a baseball bat..." He let his voice trail off as he gathered his thoughts, "I'm going to Sicily with you." He said rather suddenly and looked to her for a reaction.
And he got the one he expected. Her eyes bulged out of her head and her mouth dropped open, "You're what? You're what? You can't! There's no way in hell even you can pull this off!" She exclaimed. "What if Sloane changes his mind and sends Dixon?"
"Syd, hold on. There's something that you don't know about. Inside the book, there's a white cording that is needed for one of Rambaldi's devices. Sloane wants you to get the book so he gets the cord. But he can never it get-"
"So, we'll make a replica of it. We've done it before." She responded quickly.
"But we don't know what it looks like." Vaughn countered. "And there's more."
"What?"
"Those three people, Boris and Anya Chesnulatich and Alfred Koslovin, they're being held captive by Marx. They were kidnapped from their Moscow residences and taken to Sicily. They're the three leading expects in Rambaldi, third only to Sloane and then your mother. They're being held captive in the basement of his building. So, you will have to go in and extract them as well. I'll be outside in a van with a medic team standing by." He concluded his little speech and the worry lines started to dissipate from his brow. He had gotten through his entire little speech and now, it was the beloved question and answer period and by the look on her face, she had a lot of questions for him. She had that wonderful sparkle in her eye that proved to him that she had a list. A very long, drawn out, intense battery of questions waiting to be fired.
"Why doesn't Sloane know about this?" She immediately started, getting to her feet. "Why are they being held captive? Are they being tortured? How do we know that-"
"Will you let me answer one question but you ask the next?" She puckered her lips in a feeling of defeat.
Vaughn's eyes were so serious and emotionless. His lips moved through the answers that he had been given only a few hours ago. He had no idea what was going on with this mission and this was just as new to her as it was him.
Flash forward a little bit to the mansion. Sydney walked in, rang the doorbell and announced her arrival. "So, you already?" Vaughn's voice came over her ear, causing her to smile a little bit. She smiled a reply, unable to answer as the door swung open. A man with a pale drawn face answered the door.
"Hello." He greeted and watched her with interest as she started to become Anne Ryan a little more, wearing nothing but a white gauzy halter dress that had a large keyhole from neck to below her navel. It was cut close on either side and from the back; it looked as though she only partially dressed. It was her most revealing outfit to date, if you can believe that one. The ring was placed on her hand, her comm. link in her ear, and other odds and ends.
"Hello, I'm here for a Mister Marx?" She brandished a black invitation with silver lettering from her large white bag. "This says I'm to meet him now..would you tell him that Anne Ryan is here?" She pulled her cherry painted lips into a smile, a false one at that.
The black painted door was pulled open to reveal the white marble foyer with a staircase that looked as though it was taken straight out of Tara from Gone with the Wind. Everything gold and gilded, with a high taste in Italian decor. The man from the door ushered her up the stairs and down the long winding corridors to a bedroom in the far corner. The door opened slowly and there a man with Olive toned skin, black hair, cut close to his scalp, and Devil blue eyes. He was propped up on his bed of white sheets complete with canopy. You would think a man of his stature would be less in touch with feminine side.
"You must be Annie." He greeted.
"Yes sir." She walked into the room and strutted into bedroom.
He propped up his body again so he could see more of her body, "Ah. You're a pretty one. Prettier than the last one."
"If she doesn't kill this guy, I will." Vaughn scoffed to the medic team. They turned away from their busy work and looked towards Vaughn with disinterested looks. "Sorry." He replied apologetically.
Sydney continued, "Well, you get what you pay for, I guess." And she sat down on the bed next to him, setting her bag near the edge of the bed and crossing her legs innocently at the ankle. Her brown hair was covered by a platinum blonde wig that was pin straight and feel to her mid back. From where the halter was tied and the length of her hair and how close the top was cut, she looked like she was partially dressed from the back. The short length of the skirt or the white fishnets or the white Roman sandals certainly did not help with this at all. She completely looked like a prostitute.
"Let's skip the small talk, shall we?" Marx wrapped his arm around her waist, bring her body towards his. His venomous lips began to press against her body as he threw her down on her back, straddling her in the process. "Is there anything you don't do?" His face was hovering inches above hers as his hands groped down to undo her top.
She recoiled slightly, "I don't kiss on the mouth." And that was true. She had managed to go through this humiliating process without ever kissing any of them on the mouth..well, except Noah and that was totally different. She was in love with him or then there was Marshall, but that was different too. As she felt his body rub against hers and him moaning and groaning in her ear. Lord was this man vile. He began to get a little rougher, biting at her shoulders and practically drawing blood around her stomach. She bucked him off and flipped him over so that the she was on top. Her legs were around his skinny frame and she sat up straight on his wire trim stomach. "You wanna go for it?" She started to fool around with the white cording of the top and Marx was clearly enjoying this. And just as the strings began to loosen and more of her was revealed, she started to lean forward on him, pressing and breaking the ring into his arm or his neck, somewhere she wasn't quite sure. And without a doubt, he was out cold in a few minutes.
"Well, at least she's a lady." One of the female agents looked towards Vaughn and shrugged her shoulders. Vaughn smiled humbly at her and waited for the familiar voice to fill the black van.
Showtime "Boot camp, this is Mountaineer. Marx is out cold, where am I going?" She tapped her comm. link and started to tie her dress back up before grabbing a long black sweater off of a nearby chair. She tied the robe, as it turned out to be, tightly around her waist and cautiously made her way outside of the door but not before she grabbed her bag that would later hold 4.7.
"Down the southernmost hallway, down the far stairs to the basement, third door on your left is 4.7, fifth door are the hostages." Vaughn rattled on the information. *That's my girl.*
Sydney did as she was told and was just about to step out into the hallway when she heard a loud groan from the bedroom, followed by a slew of swears. The Hal idol didn't work! He staggered out into the hallway as she tried to sprint for safety but was soon caught by two guards. She quickly overcame them but Marx shouted out for her. Obviously defeated, she turned around, "I hate making things too easy." She replied demurely, playing with the black tie on her robe, "I think it's more fun to work with a moving target." Her hands started to shed the robe in sort of a mock strip tease to no music.
Marx stood in the doorway and glared, "We do things my way." He came up towards her, griped her tightly in his hands, squeezing hard, and then moved to slap her. She immediately pulled away and hit him hard upside the head with her leg. As her luck was going, he didn't knock out; instead he came at her with more punches, kicks, and unfortunately bites. She fought back hard though and within a few punches, he was knocked out. She grabbed the tie from her robe and bound his hands through the hinges of the door, gagging him with his tie that was loosening around his neck.
"Mountaineer, do you copy? Is everything clear?" Vaughn's voice blared over her head as she fought but as she finished tying up Marx, his tone turned more to what she was used to hearing, "Sydney!"
"I'm okay. Hal idol didn't work." She replied, slightly out of breath. Confidant that Marx was no longer going to bother her, she made her way down the hallway and down the stairs. The book was relatively unguarded and easy to grab. With it stored tightly away in the bag, she made towards the hostages. "Mountaineer to Boot Camp-"
"Mountaineer to Boot Camp?" a familiar voice repeated.
She really didn't want to turn around. No, she absolutely dreaded turning around. "Dixon?" Her voice wavered.
Okay! So what do you think? PLEASE REVIEW!