Chapter Thirty-three: Lifetimes
Los Angeles. The Credit Dauphine building. Being there again felt utterly foreign to Sydney, almost as if it were somewhere she'd visited in a different lifetime. She supposed in a way, she'd lived two lifetimes since she'd been there last-- one as Irina Derevko's minion, and another as a restaurant owner, wife, and mother.
There was one thing that had been a constant through much of her three lifetimes, though, and that was the man seated next to her. She'd called him Vaughn during their first lifetime, then Michael, then darling and baby and a dozen other endearments, but no matter how she'd addressed him, he'd always been the same man.
Strong. Loving. Her rock.
She, Michael, and Jack been escorted to the room they now sat in as soon as they'd arrived at Credit Dauphine, the same conference room where she and Dixon had received countless assignments for missions. Her father and Keith were somewhere nearby, though they hadn't the luxury of comm links or hidden cameras. Too risky. No, Jack Bristow was simply going to use his judgment and figure out how to get to them if he found it necessary. And Keith? He was just there to act as a witness.
Sydney hated that they didn't have a more detailed plan, but she wasn't sure what could be done about it.
They had been sitting in the conference room for something like an hour when the door opened. Sydney felt her blood run cold when the familiar man entered.
"Sark," she whispered.
"Hello, Sydney," he said, as calmly as if she were there for a social call. "It's been a long time. If I may say so, you look magnificent. The last decade's been good to you."
"Thank you," she managed, balling her hands into fists. She hated that her daughter's fate, her own fate, was in the hands of this man, of her mother, of Sloane. She was desperate to find a way to turn the tables.
"Mr. Vaughn, always a pleasure," Sark continued. Under the table, Sydney reached for Michael's hand. With Emily gone, she knew that he was already on edge; she silently pleaded with him not to let Sark push him over.
"Sark." Sydney was relieved to hear Michael's voice come out calmly, evenly, though she knew he was speaking through gritted teeth.
"And Jack," Sark finished, smiling at their son. "After the other day, we're practically old friends, now, aren't we?"
"I'm not your friend." Sydney could see the hatred glowing from her son's green eyes, and as much as it made her fearful, she couldn't help but feel proud of her son.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Sark said, not looking as if he really cared one way or the other. "Now. Let's get down to business, shall we? I believe there's someone you've been waiting to see."
Sydney felt her heart jump into her throat as the door to the conference room opened again, revealing not her daughter, but the woman she in fact would have been happy to live the rest of her life without seeing again.
Her mother.