Vaughn stared at the elder agent in frank astonishment. Panic instantly
began surging through his veins. If Will Tippin was investigating SD-6,
Sydney's entire cover could be in jeopardy and Vaughn knew that Jack
Bristow would not take the risk of personally contacting him for anything
less then the most extreme situations.
"How much does he know?" Vaughn asked, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
Jack was privately impressed by Vaughn's quick comprehension of the situation. Whatever misgivings he may have about the young man in regard to his feelings for Sydney, Vaughn had proven himself an astute and valuable officer.
"At the present, very little. Tippin's in the middle of investigating 'Kate Jones.' He may also have contact with minor players within the fringe companies. I want to neutralize the threat before he becomes too involved." Jack allowed a form of concern to cross his features. "Say what you will about Tippin, he has good reporter instincts; he's proving more resourceful than I anticipated."
"Have you cleared this?" Vaughn knew that Jack Bristow had a certain amount of leeway when in came to personal missions, particularly if they involved his daughter, but even he couldn't authorize a potential recruitment.
"It's been cleared," Jack confirmed. "The CIA and DSR are completely focused on the search for the manuscript. I have been given complete authority to see this through, but I need your help."
"You have it. Sydney has been through so much and will likely go through more. Let's not make her face one more tragedy if we can prevent it." His eyes shone with such determination that Jack was reminded painfully of himself at that age: young, idealistic and, he added as an afterthought, in love.
"I know," Jack said shortly; he didn't like conversation, particularly ones that revolved around emotions. He had been fully prepared to physically force sense into his daughter's handler. Self-indulgent reflection was not an option, which both parties knew well. Seeing the resolute set in the younger man's jaw, the elder Bristow realized that interference was unnecessary and definitely unwanted.
"Has there been any progress regarding the document?" he asked, mentally shaking himself free of unwanted memories.
Vaughn repressed a sigh. The single line of cryptic code had been ingrained in his brain for the last 48 hours.
"Prohibeo aforementioned tradgies lego quod impliment scrolls of unus quisnam habitum totus."
"To prevent the aforementioned read and implement the scrolls of the one who holds all."
Opinion was divided. The idea of Rambaldi having an existence outside his inventions had never really been considered. Of course, it had been looked into during the early days of the Rambaldi operation but nothing had ever come of it...until now. The "Rambaldi guys," AKA the analysts who had spend their whole careers studying his texts, were convinced he had prophesied it all right down to the exact people he needed to find his various works in order to prevent tragedy.
Vaughn was skeptical, but his superiors had ordered a considerable amount of resources to decoding the text. At first glance it appeared to be straightforward Latin, if there ever was such a thing, but none of it seemed to correspond with what little they knew of Rambaldi's personal contacts.
"No significant results." he answered as he fought to conceal his weariness. He was certain that the elder Bristow would have been up twice as long as he had.
Jack's expression softened slightly. "I will keep you posted on the recruitment, I've got contacts in the media. I will attempt to kill the story while Tippin is still on the outside, but I have a feeling Sydney's friend isn't going to let this go easily."
Vaughn nodded, fighting the irrational surge of resentment he always seemed to feel whenever Tippin was involved. He didn't want to analyze too deeply the reason behind it.
"Now is not the time for jealously," he scolded himself. Sydney didn't need a lovesick fool as a handler. She needed a friend to support her regardless of whom her parent was. He felt a hot surge of guilt as he recalled his inability to comfort her.
***
Vaughn let out a weary sigh as entered his empty home. The soft beeping of his answering machine was the only sound in the otherwise silent hallway. Stretching his stiff fingers he moved towards the phone.
"Michael... honey are you home? It's your mother." His mother's familiar voice filled the emptiness with a comforting air that she always seemed to create. Glancing at the display Vaughn saw that she had phoned an hour before. He felt a surge of concern and quickly dialed the number, tapping restlessly as he waited for her to pick up.
"Mom, are you alright?" He asked.
"Of course I am, honey, I just wanted to check on you and Matty." His mother's calming voice eased the tension that throbbed hard in his chest. Picking up the cordless, Vaughn moved to the couch. As he settled himself in the couch, the CIA officer felt himself slip back into the role of loving son. He felt overwhelmingly relieved to still have a family he could always turn to. He couldn't help comparing what he still had to the scattered disillusions of a family Sydney was left with.
"I'm so sorry Syd."
Vaughn had been so caught up in his own suffering that he had only considered Sydney's pain in an abstract way. He had tried to rationalize what he was feeling. In a brief moment of insanity he had even considered talking to Matt about his all-consuming emotions.
"That would be interesting."
"I love you Mom." he blurted out, interrupting his mother in mid conversation.
"I love you too Mikey. What brought this on, baby?" Her voice was instantly filled with that intuition only a mother could have.
"Nothing, Mom, just wanted you to know," he replied quietly.
"How much does he know?" Vaughn asked, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
Jack was privately impressed by Vaughn's quick comprehension of the situation. Whatever misgivings he may have about the young man in regard to his feelings for Sydney, Vaughn had proven himself an astute and valuable officer.
"At the present, very little. Tippin's in the middle of investigating 'Kate Jones.' He may also have contact with minor players within the fringe companies. I want to neutralize the threat before he becomes too involved." Jack allowed a form of concern to cross his features. "Say what you will about Tippin, he has good reporter instincts; he's proving more resourceful than I anticipated."
"Have you cleared this?" Vaughn knew that Jack Bristow had a certain amount of leeway when in came to personal missions, particularly if they involved his daughter, but even he couldn't authorize a potential recruitment.
"It's been cleared," Jack confirmed. "The CIA and DSR are completely focused on the search for the manuscript. I have been given complete authority to see this through, but I need your help."
"You have it. Sydney has been through so much and will likely go through more. Let's not make her face one more tragedy if we can prevent it." His eyes shone with such determination that Jack was reminded painfully of himself at that age: young, idealistic and, he added as an afterthought, in love.
"I know," Jack said shortly; he didn't like conversation, particularly ones that revolved around emotions. He had been fully prepared to physically force sense into his daughter's handler. Self-indulgent reflection was not an option, which both parties knew well. Seeing the resolute set in the younger man's jaw, the elder Bristow realized that interference was unnecessary and definitely unwanted.
"Has there been any progress regarding the document?" he asked, mentally shaking himself free of unwanted memories.
Vaughn repressed a sigh. The single line of cryptic code had been ingrained in his brain for the last 48 hours.
"Prohibeo aforementioned tradgies lego quod impliment scrolls of unus quisnam habitum totus."
"To prevent the aforementioned read and implement the scrolls of the one who holds all."
Opinion was divided. The idea of Rambaldi having an existence outside his inventions had never really been considered. Of course, it had been looked into during the early days of the Rambaldi operation but nothing had ever come of it...until now. The "Rambaldi guys," AKA the analysts who had spend their whole careers studying his texts, were convinced he had prophesied it all right down to the exact people he needed to find his various works in order to prevent tragedy.
Vaughn was skeptical, but his superiors had ordered a considerable amount of resources to decoding the text. At first glance it appeared to be straightforward Latin, if there ever was such a thing, but none of it seemed to correspond with what little they knew of Rambaldi's personal contacts.
"No significant results." he answered as he fought to conceal his weariness. He was certain that the elder Bristow would have been up twice as long as he had.
Jack's expression softened slightly. "I will keep you posted on the recruitment, I've got contacts in the media. I will attempt to kill the story while Tippin is still on the outside, but I have a feeling Sydney's friend isn't going to let this go easily."
Vaughn nodded, fighting the irrational surge of resentment he always seemed to feel whenever Tippin was involved. He didn't want to analyze too deeply the reason behind it.
"Now is not the time for jealously," he scolded himself. Sydney didn't need a lovesick fool as a handler. She needed a friend to support her regardless of whom her parent was. He felt a hot surge of guilt as he recalled his inability to comfort her.
***
Vaughn let out a weary sigh as entered his empty home. The soft beeping of his answering machine was the only sound in the otherwise silent hallway. Stretching his stiff fingers he moved towards the phone.
"Michael... honey are you home? It's your mother." His mother's familiar voice filled the emptiness with a comforting air that she always seemed to create. Glancing at the display Vaughn saw that she had phoned an hour before. He felt a surge of concern and quickly dialed the number, tapping restlessly as he waited for her to pick up.
"Mom, are you alright?" He asked.
"Of course I am, honey, I just wanted to check on you and Matty." His mother's calming voice eased the tension that throbbed hard in his chest. Picking up the cordless, Vaughn moved to the couch. As he settled himself in the couch, the CIA officer felt himself slip back into the role of loving son. He felt overwhelmingly relieved to still have a family he could always turn to. He couldn't help comparing what he still had to the scattered disillusions of a family Sydney was left with.
"I'm so sorry Syd."
Vaughn had been so caught up in his own suffering that he had only considered Sydney's pain in an abstract way. He had tried to rationalize what he was feeling. In a brief moment of insanity he had even considered talking to Matt about his all-consuming emotions.
"That would be interesting."
"I love you Mom." he blurted out, interrupting his mother in mid conversation.
"I love you too Mikey. What brought this on, baby?" Her voice was instantly filled with that intuition only a mother could have.
"Nothing, Mom, just wanted you to know," he replied quietly.
