Chapter Thirty-nine: Truly Expendable
Sydney and Michael were blindfolded, then driven to what revealed itself to be a rather seedy hotel that the two of them didn't recognize. It had been so long since they'd been to LA; Sydney thinks that there are many establishments that they wouldn't recognize.
"I believe you wanted to see your daughter," Sark said casually, almost as an afterthought. "Oh. And I'm sure the two of you know better than to cause as scene as we walk through the building."
"Where are we?" Sydney asked, not sure if he would provide her with an answer.
Sark surprised her. "As you remember, your mother once lived at Organization headquarters, as did a few other high-level employees. The two of you, until Irina bought you a place of your own." A look of hatred passed over his handsome face. "She spoiled the two of you, and you didn't even appreciate it."
"That doesn't answer my question," Sydney said, willing herself not to lose her temper.
Sark shrugged. "Well, the Credit Dauphine building isn't the sort of place anyone would want to live, of course, and we spend most of our time at a home in a much lovelier location, anyway. But Mr. Sloane bought Irina and I perfectly lovely apartments of our own, and this building, for entertaining…guests."
And when you say "guests," you mean "prisoners," Sydney thought, but she said nothing, merely allowed herself to be led to a rickety elevator.
The elevator stopped on the third floor-- the building had four-- and Sark led them down to a hallway, stopping to knock on a door.
"Emily, dear," he called. "Can I come in?"
It was then that Michael, who had been following along expressionlessly, lost it, hurling himself forward to bang on the door. "Emily!" he called. "Emily, princess, it's Mom and Daddy, let us--"
"Please," Sark cut in, even as screams of "Daddy! Mom!" rang out from the other side of the door. "The door can only be opened from the outside." He unlocked the door, and Sydney and Michael all but knocked him over on their way through.
Sydney would never be able to exactly recall what was said in the next few minutes; all she knew was that the three of them stood, weeping and talking a mile a minute, their words muffled by their tight three-way hug.
"Are you okay, Emmy? Are you okay?" Sydney asked over and over.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Emily responded. "But I want to go home. Can we go home?"
It was then that Sydney pulled away, brushing her daughter's hair back from her forehead. "Not yet, sweetie. Now let me look at you."
The girl was dressed in jeans and a lavender tank top that Sydney didn't recognize; they must have been new. Her hair had been washed and curled and she was even wearing a bit of makeup; only someone who knew her well would know that she didn't look quite right. Her vibrant brown eyes looked so stricken, so scared, and she was even thinner than she had been before she left the island.
"What the hell have you done to her, Sark?" Sydney demanded. "Have you even been feeding her?"
"He has, Mommy," Emily was quick to cut in. "I haven't felt much like eating."
Sydney hated the fear in her daughter's eyes, as if she were terrified to say anything negative about Sark. This was not the Emily Sydney knew. She knew she shouldn't have expected her little girl to be her normal, bubbly self, but this was absolutely enough to break her heart.
It must have broken Michael's, too, because he lost his temper for the second time, grabbing Sark by the shirt collar. "What the hell have you done to her, you bastard, she's acting like a damned--"
"I would suggest you get your hands off of me, Mr. Vaughn, or I promise that you will regret it," Sark hissed.
Of course, Sydney realized. Sark and her mother wanted them to convince Emily to work for the Organization, that it was the best thing to do; this was hardly helping to convince her that they were all one big happy family.
Michael let go of Sark's shirt, but he did so roughly, almost pushing the other man away, and Sydney hid a smile. Of course Michael wouldn't allow himself to appear weak in front of his wife and little girl.
"I think your time with your daughter is up, and that we had better discuss a few things before you see her again," Sark said.
"No, Mommy, don't leave me, please don't--" Emily started towards her mother, her arms out as if to embrace her.
"Emily," Sark said sharply, and Emily stopped, lowering her head subserviently.
Sydney's mouth dropped open. What the hell had he done to her?
"Now say something to reassure her," Sark murmured to Sydney. "And leave with me."
Sydney's lower lip quivered, but she knew that they had to leave her daughter if she were to even hope to get to the bottom of this. "Emily, darling, we have to go now."
"When will I see you again?" Emily asked mournfully.
When Sark says so, Sydney thought despairingly. No escape, never an escape…
"Soon, sweetheart," Michael spoke up, with more confidence than Sydney was able to muster.
"Now tell her to be good and do as I say while you're away," Sark hissed in Sydney's ear. "And remember how expendable your son is to us."
Sydney shivered, and tried to force the words from her throat. "B-- be good, Emily," Sydney stammered. She couldn't tell her to listen to Sark. She wouldn't. "I love you very much, okay?"
She could at least tell her that much. She couldn't tell her to trust her, or that she would make everything okay, or that she and Michael would take her home soon. She didn't know if she would be able to make everything would be okay, she didn't know if they were ever going home, and she sure as hell didn't know if Emily could trust her.
There was no telling what things she would have to do, what things she would have to tell Emily to do, in order to save Jack's life.
Because she knew that Jack Vaughn was the one member of their little family that Sark and her mother considered truly expendable.