Chapter 2:
Somehow I slept. Against my better judgement I fell asleep even knowing I was in a car with a man who had tried to take my life numerous times until I felt a hand on my shoulder some time later. Trying to open my eyes I realized I must have been crying in my sleep, for my eyes stung and it was difficult to open them at first.
"Where are we?" I ask, not facing him. I won't let him see me cry.
"LAX, and as stunning as you may be barefoot in plaid pajamas, you should change before we try to board a plane."
"I'm sorry if I neglected to grab my suitcase before we jumped out of a window..."
He nods towards the backseat, unaffected by my sarcasm, "There's a change of clothing and a wig in the bag. I'll meet you infront of Terminal 4, gate 47 in fifteen minutes."
It's a mystery to me why I've gone along with this so far. I can hear my father's voice in my head. Have you completely taken leave of your senses?! Maybe I have. I've yet to learn who I'm running from, and if this is a trap I've bought into it hook, line, and sinker.
My father once told me that any weakness the enemy could find would be found and used against me. He'd said this with a sadness in his eyes that made me certain that he was thinking of mom. I'd naively convinced myself that I had no weaknesses, atleast not any that anyone would know to take advantage of, but I know now that that was never true. Vaughn was my one true weakness. All it took was a vague hint of harm coming to him, and I'm running with the enemy, believing his every word.
"You still haven't given me a single reason to believe anything you've said," I tell Sark dryly, thinking it an odd thing to say.
Apparently he does as well, "And yet, you're still here."
"Who am I running from?"
"It's no secret I'm keeping from you Sydney, but there isn't time for lengthy explanations. This is your one chance- our one chance- to make Sloane pay for what he's done, and it's crucial that we catch that flight!" His voice is once again void of sarcasm, and has taken on a tone I've never heard before. Either he's serious, or he's first in line for an Oscar. Oddly, I'm not leaning towards the latter.
"You've still given me no reason to believe I'm not walking into a trap," I point out, though secretly I don't feel this is the case. "How do I know that by getting on that plane I'm not going to be delivered directly into Sloane's hands?"
He looks at me unblinking, his blue eyes holding my attention and not allowing me to turn away, "You will be handed to Sloane, but I promise you- you'll have the upper hand. You have no reason to take my word Sydney, but I'm not setting you up for a fall here."
He's once again trying to pursuade me to be on that plane when it takes off, telling me that he'll explain when there's more time. What he doesn't understand is that he's had me all along; at this point I have nothing to lose. I lean towards him, my voice as icy cool as his eyes, "I'll be on that plane, but I swear to God if you're trying to play me I won't hesitate to kill you!"
My threat is followed by an awkward silence. Those damned eyes are staring straight through me again, making me shiver. He's way too close but I don't pull away; every encounter with him is a battle that I'm determined to win.
Finally, he breaks the spell by turning away and speaking, "I expected no less."
And then he's gone, leaving me alone in the car to change into my new disguise. Sighing, I reach for the bag in the back seat...
Somehow I slept. Against my better judgement I fell asleep even knowing I was in a car with a man who had tried to take my life numerous times until I felt a hand on my shoulder some time later. Trying to open my eyes I realized I must have been crying in my sleep, for my eyes stung and it was difficult to open them at first.
"Where are we?" I ask, not facing him. I won't let him see me cry.
"LAX, and as stunning as you may be barefoot in plaid pajamas, you should change before we try to board a plane."
"I'm sorry if I neglected to grab my suitcase before we jumped out of a window..."
He nods towards the backseat, unaffected by my sarcasm, "There's a change of clothing and a wig in the bag. I'll meet you infront of Terminal 4, gate 47 in fifteen minutes."
It's a mystery to me why I've gone along with this so far. I can hear my father's voice in my head. Have you completely taken leave of your senses?! Maybe I have. I've yet to learn who I'm running from, and if this is a trap I've bought into it hook, line, and sinker.
My father once told me that any weakness the enemy could find would be found and used against me. He'd said this with a sadness in his eyes that made me certain that he was thinking of mom. I'd naively convinced myself that I had no weaknesses, atleast not any that anyone would know to take advantage of, but I know now that that was never true. Vaughn was my one true weakness. All it took was a vague hint of harm coming to him, and I'm running with the enemy, believing his every word.
"You still haven't given me a single reason to believe anything you've said," I tell Sark dryly, thinking it an odd thing to say.
Apparently he does as well, "And yet, you're still here."
"Who am I running from?"
"It's no secret I'm keeping from you Sydney, but there isn't time for lengthy explanations. This is your one chance- our one chance- to make Sloane pay for what he's done, and it's crucial that we catch that flight!" His voice is once again void of sarcasm, and has taken on a tone I've never heard before. Either he's serious, or he's first in line for an Oscar. Oddly, I'm not leaning towards the latter.
"You've still given me no reason to believe I'm not walking into a trap," I point out, though secretly I don't feel this is the case. "How do I know that by getting on that plane I'm not going to be delivered directly into Sloane's hands?"
He looks at me unblinking, his blue eyes holding my attention and not allowing me to turn away, "You will be handed to Sloane, but I promise you- you'll have the upper hand. You have no reason to take my word Sydney, but I'm not setting you up for a fall here."
He's once again trying to pursuade me to be on that plane when it takes off, telling me that he'll explain when there's more time. What he doesn't understand is that he's had me all along; at this point I have nothing to lose. I lean towards him, my voice as icy cool as his eyes, "I'll be on that plane, but I swear to God if you're trying to play me I won't hesitate to kill you!"
My threat is followed by an awkward silence. Those damned eyes are staring straight through me again, making me shiver. He's way too close but I don't pull away; every encounter with him is a battle that I'm determined to win.
Finally, he breaks the spell by turning away and speaking, "I expected no less."
And then he's gone, leaving me alone in the car to change into my new disguise. Sighing, I reach for the bag in the back seat...
