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"I heard you crying last night." Sark commented, as they drove to the meeting. Sydney blushed, but remained silent. "If I'm not overstepping my boundaries, may I ask why?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She coldly said.
Sark wanted more than anything to make Sydney feel better. He felt obligated to do so. She was so beautiful, and so fragile, and so broken. There was something he knew she wanted from him. An answer to the all important question: Why? "I have only 53 missions left. That may seem like a lot, but after 294 missions, that isn't all that much." Sydney turned to look at Sark. He never kept his eyes off the road, which was a good thing, because he was the driver. "I wanted to go back 20 years. It's taken me four years to get that far, and probably another one to go."
"What happened 20 years ago?" Sydney prompted.
"I came home after the year ended. My brother, and my sister and I all attended boarding schools, so we rarely saw our parents from the time we were six. I hadn't seen my parents or my little sister since the holidays. I missed them all very much. My brother and I went to the same school, but it didn't feel the same as brothers at school, as it did as brothers at home. I couldn't wait to be the better of the two. We were always closer at home than we ever were at school.
My sister's school ended the week before mine, so she beat me home. My older brother, Charles, left on the earlier train, after being exempt from the exams. He was really sick that year, and missed about three months of school in the hospital wing. Charles arrived that morning, much to my protest. I idolized Charles, and wanted to ride the train with him. But my parents wanted Charles to ride with a doctor that they knew heading our way that morning. His train couldn't be switched. So we took separate trains.
I arrived on the afternoon train. I waited all night for my parents to pick me up at the train station. They never came. A cop found me sleeping next to my trunk in the morning. I told him what happened. He took me home. I thought that the house felt unusually still. I walked through every room in the house before I found them, piled in my parent's closet. I threw up on Charles. But he didn't know. Imagine being ten years old, and finding your entire family murdered and stacked in a closet. Julie was only seven when it happened. She was the only one not killed by the bullets. She was the one on the bottom of the pile. Suffocated and crushed to death. Much slower, much more painful.
There were almost 30 bullet holes between the four of them. They never caught the murder. If I could, as myself, go back twenty years, and stop the murder that did that to my family, and then watch me grow. I was ten! Ten! I would be able to steer my life better from the sidelines. That is all I wanted. I wanted to see Julie grow up. She was a wonderful dancer." Sydney looked over at Sark. Two silent tears rolled gently down his cheek.
Sydney didn't say anything, for fear that he would break. When she opened up her heart like that, she didn't like people to say anything. She liked the silence. After nearly thirty minutes of silence, she softly spoke. "Killing a man almost isn't worth it for me. I need to do it. I need Vaughn. But I don't know if I can do it."
"I'll do it for you."
"Excuse me?"
"I will do this mission for you. You'll get the credit. I'll do the other one too. But you have got to give me your word that you will do something for me."
"What is it? And then I'll make the deal."
"When you go back, will you please look and see if Julie Sark still lives, and then send a letter to my house with a yes or no? That way I know weather I'm just going to be wasting my time by trying this whole back in time thing or if it is worth it."
"Won't you not do that after already doing it?"
"Just two words on the letter. Either, It worked, or It didn't work. If I am doing it, then I will understand what that means, if I'm not, I will trash it and regard it as nothing."
"That's it?"
"Do you not trust me?"
"I have a hard time trusting people."
"Understandable. You have burned your entire life. So, do we have a deal?"
"We do."
"Good."
Sark and Sydney walked gracefully into the building, where they met with the associate of Sloane. "My employer-"
"Who is your employer?" They snarled.
"Arvin Sloane. My employer sends you this." Sark tossed a folder across the table. The associate pulled out the single content. A picture.
"Is this the Rembaldi device?"
"Yes." Sydney answered. "Sloane would like to formulate a business proposition. Once the device has been proven successful, you would get half of the profits off of it."
"Half."
"Yes, half." Sark repeated.
"I shall send for you once I have thought it over."
"Of course, take all the time you need."
"It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Humprey, and you as well, Mrs. Thomas." The associate said, as he shook each of their hands. The three parted.
"How fast do you think that it will be until he realizes that Sloane screwed him over, and there will be no profits off of the device?" Sydney asked.
"Not long after Sloane leaves." Sark replied.