CHAPTER THREE – RUNNING

Vaughn's mind was running a mile a minute, not realizing what was also streaming from his mouth.  As much as he wanted to keep her from the hurt that would inevitably come from his confession, once he began it took on a life of its own. 

"With all the arms dealing the Chinese Triad had been doing with North Korea, the NSA decided it was time to infiltrate.  As it turned out, one of the organization's leaders had a daughter, Jie, who loved everything Western.  On one of her trips to the states, the CIA had me initiate contact."

"Another deep cover agent with a New York syndicate introduced me to Jie as his associate.  My cover was as a freelance arms and intelligence broker for American and Western European powers.  I intrigued her."

Vaughn remembered details he couldn't tell her.  Jie had been more than intrigued with him.  Seduction had never been difficult for him… before.  In the numbness that had followed Sydney's apparent death, he was able to say things and act in ways he'd never imagined possible.  For nearly a month, she couldn't get enough of him, and he made sure she believed he felt the same.  He lavished her with attention and gifts, but left enough of a veil shrouding his work and "life" to keep her wondering about his intentions.

"When it was time for her to return to Hong Kong, she asked me to come with her.  I met her father, who apparently felt I could be useful to his operation.  When we told him we wanted to get married, he didn't object."

The truth of the matter was, Kin En Kai was more than livid with his daughter's selection of husband.  Americans were not to be trusted, but En Kai spoiled his daughter considerably and would do nearly anything to keep her content.  He checked Vaughn's, now Erik Vargas's, story and discovered his extensive contacts both in American and French mafia.

Determined to take advantage of any untapped avenues for potential revenue, En Kai laid a series of increasingly revolting "tests" before Vaughn.  Vaughn's scruples had been left shattered with the broken glass in Sydney's apartment.  Kidnapping… torture… murder… nothing had been too extreme.

En Kai was impressed with the ruthlessness "Vargas" showed in action, and was even more impressed with how that ruthlessness seemed to instantly disappear around Jie.  In truth, it was only that same steeliness Vaughn had become that allowed him to imitate an infatuated fiancé.  Vaughn knew it was two acts of the same play.  If he had allowed himself an ounce of feeling, he would never have been able to complete his first main mission objective.

"I began working for the Triad under En Kai, and five months ago Jie and I married in Shanghai."

Throughout his entire tirade, Vaughn had never looked up from the floor in front of him.  What did I just do?  He needed to see her reaction, but he couldn't bear to turn around.  At least she hasn't hit me… or killed me.  His unwavering downward gaze confirmed the feeling that his feet were still attached, even though he couldn't feel them.  He kept waiting, but heard only silence.

"Syd…?"

No response.  Suddenly he felt a puff of warm air move through his now-rumpled hair, and he knew…

She was gone.

------

Sydney let the door swing loosely behind her as she flew down the dark hallway.  Running for Sydney was always full-out – long strides, pumping arms, and quick, shallow breaths.  She had no idea where to go, but she knew she couldn't stay in that room with him any longer.

She continued running down the dank alleyway, splashing in puddles left from recent storms.  Luckily, the safehouse hotel was far from the city center, so there were no prying tourist eyes to follow her.  The only people she passed were equally eager to avoid notice as herself.

After looping around a few blocks and doubling back twice, Sydney slowed to a walk, reflexively keeping her head down with her hair obscuring her profile.  Her eyes darted all around, searching for a place out of view to sit and digest all the new information swirling around in her head.  She spotted a set of dumpsters near what appeared to be the back door of a club.  She crept in between them and sank against the wall.

Swallow mission!  Never in her life would Sydney have taken Vaughn for the kind of agent who could…  He was the steadfast, ethical one.  How could he do this? 

Sydney always knew there was the possibility a mission of seduction could affect her life somehow.  In her line of work, that was always a risk.  She'd imagined scenarios where Sloane would send someone in to bait her – win her trust – just as her mother had done with her father.  She'd mentally placed herself in Irina's shoes more than once – trying to understand why she had done what she did.  The thought had even crossed Sydney's mind that perhaps using herself as a lure may have been the quickest and simplest way to get to Sark. 

But never… never had any of her scenarios played out this way.  Vaughn is married!  This cannot be happening.  The Michael Vaughn I love would never lower himself to that level – no matter what.  But perhaps, she realized, he was no longer the man she had loved… 

It didn't take much to see the difference the death of her fiancé and two years had made in her personality.  No question she was a different woman than when Danny had proposed.  There were times she thought she was going crazy – that she was sure any semblance of morality had vacated her being.  But she never seriously thought she could be capable of whoring herself for the CIA or anyone else.

Ok, Syd.  You need a plan.  You've got to get out of here – figure out what's happened.  She slowly pushed herself up and looked around.  The only people she could see were a couple of teenage girls on the nearby corner, clearly dressed to be sold.  That'll work, she thought.

Sydney waited until one of the girls climbed into the passenger seat of a nearby Silver Jaguar and drove away.  Moving slowly, Sydney never gave the remaining girl a chance to run before expertly slamming her fist down on the back of the girl's skull and dragging her into the alley.

"I'm sorry," Sydney whispered to her unconscious victim, "but I've got no money, no car, and I need to get out of here without being recognized."  She quickly stripped off her grungy sweater and pants, replacing them with the short skirt, tight halter top, and knee-high leather boots that were on the girl. 

Rifling through the girl's handbag, Sydney noticed more scars on her arms that she didn't remember.  Grabbing what money she could find, she ran her fingers through her hair, and tossed the purse on top of the lifeless form now wrapped in Sydney's clothes.

"Find a new job," Sydney mumbled as she crept into the nearby door. 

She was right, the door did lead to a club – and not exactly a high-class one, at that.  She maneuvered her way to the bar and ordered a drink in her best Russian-accented Chinese.  At least I can remember some things… As she sipped the brown concoction, Sydney surveyed her surroundings.  The tiny room held significantly more men than women, and the other women seemed to be in the same line of work as her young friend from the alley.

She decided her best bet was to get a car – quickly.  Her gaze landed on a middle-aged man in a dark business suit.  She raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile.  As he rose to join her, Sydney quickly prepped her line.  The bait worked and within minutes the man was leading Sydney outside to his car, parked haphazardly across the street. 

As the man pulled a key from his suit pocket Sydney landed a strong punch to the center of his face.  As he fell to the ground, screaming in pain, she grabbed his keys, unlocked the door, and climbed in.

She hadn't gotten more than three blocks when a gray van came barreling out of a side street and slammed into the passenger side of her car.

Overwhelmed by the rushing in her ears and the cloud in her eyesight, Sydney didn't try to fight as she was pulled from the car and carried into the back of the still-running van.

The last thing she felt was a lurch as the van reversed and then peeled down the empty street.

------