Chapter 6: Fingerprints
Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Alias. But if someone wants me to take it off his hands…
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I open my eyes to see Brandon standing over me.
"You were yelling," he informs me.
I'm shivering slightly, but I try to hide it so he doesn't notice.
"What was I saying?" I ask, almost afraid of the answer.
"You were saying, 'Momma, Momma, wake up, please!' You were loud."
"Did I wake you up?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'm sorry. Go back to sleep. I won't do it again."
"I'm awake now. I can't go back to sleep. I wanna go outside."
"No! You have to stay in here, in this room, unless I say you can leave. You have some toys in your suitcase," I say, pointing in the corner of the room.
******************************************************************************************
"Mike! You've got to hear this! Come on, man!" Weiss greets him.
"What now?" Vaughn moans.
"Listen to this!" Weiss presses a button on a tape player.
"Tap-tap, tap, tap-tap-tap…"
Vaughn pulls out a pencil and jots down the letters. His eyes widen as he reads the message.
"Where was it? Did you trace it?" he cries.
"Down near San Francisco."
"We have a storage place there!"
"Yeah. They got robbed at the same time we got this call. The blue prints of a Rambaldi artifact disappeared. This is what they found in the upstairs office where the prints where kept in a safe."
He hands Vaughn a copy of a piece of paper that was dusted for fingerprints. There are plenty of them.
"So? We assume this was an amateur…"
"The prints are Syd's," Weiss interrupts.
"She thinks he has the kids! She'll do anything he wants if he threatens to hurt them! He's trying, too. We got shot at yesterday at their house."
"We'll get them, man. Sloane can't hide forever. And Syd's smart. She'll give us leads."
"Where to now? San Francisco?"
"Actually, Kendall wants us for a briefing in ten minutes. I imagine it's about something like that."
Vaughn smacks himself in the forehead.
"I can't go. I can't leave the kids, Weiss. You'll have to find her."
"I will, if that's what Kendall wants," Weiss says. An idea strikes him. "Mike, may be you should talk to Derevko. I mean, we've only had her for three months. Who knows what she might can tell us?"
"You go talk to her," Vaughn snaps instantly. There's been no love lost between Derevko and himself.
"Just an idea," Weiss mumbles.
None the less, after explaining to an outraged Kendall why he'd be more useful protecting the kids, Vaughn goes to the holding cell to see Sydney's mother.
"Agent Vaughn," she says pleasantly, giving him that intensely irritating slight smile.
"Sydney's missing," he greets her.
"That's not news. You haven't been able to locate her in years," she says softly, her smile dimming.
"We found her. When we got there, the place was a wreck. Our children were hiding in their back yard. I want to know if you know if there's any place Sloane might take Sydney."
Irina's smile has disappears completely and is now replaced by a worried frown.
"As I've repeatedly told the CIA, I've had no contact with Arvin Sloane since before the oldest girl was born. You never would tell me what you named her. I had to find out for myself," Derevko says with what Vaughn classifies as a pout in her voice.
"Do you know where he might be keeping Sydney?" he repeats firmly.
Irina steps away from the glass and slowly paces across the cell.
"There is one place I know of that he still has. Sloane kept an FBI agent there for a while years ago. It's in New York." She proceeds to give him directions.
"Agent Vaughn?" she calls as he turns to leave. "You'll let me know when she's found?"
He hears genuine concern and pleading in her voice. It makes her appear to him strangely human and vulnerable.
"Yeah. I will," he promises.
******************************************************************************************
Sydney is not sure how long the plane flight lasted, but she knows it was over three hours at the very least. She does not know where they are now. The car they're in has tinted windows and a limousine-style barrier between the front and back seats. By keeping the barrier up, Sloane effectively prevents her from figuring out where they are.
She can hear Sloane talking in low tones with the driver, but she can't tell what is being said. She's pretty sure she hears up the words "new" and "city" along the way, but she can't be sure they were even in the same sentence.
Sloane lowers the barrier just enough to toss a plain brown paper bag at her.
"Change into this," he orders crisply. "You'll want to look nice here." She can practically *hear* him smirk.
She opens the bag to find a short floral print dress of light material, like someone on vacation during the summer might wear, tan sandals, and a long red wig. Sydney sees the irony of the red wig, as it matches her current temper. She changes quickly, imagining what she'll do to Sloane if he lowers that barrier too soon. The images are oddly satisfying.
Several minutes later when he does lower the barrier, he does so only enough to speak to her.
"This is fairly simple. For the few minutes we will be visible, you are to act as if I'm you're uncle, and we're vacationing from the southern US. Trying to attract attention would be a grave mistake."
"Understood, *Uncle*," Sydney says, spiting it back at him hatefully, her teeth clenched tightly.
******************************************************************************************
"My name's Laura Vaughn, I need to speak to Michael Vaughn," Laura says anxiously.
"Laura? What's wrong?" Vaughn answers the phone.
"Daddy, I think someone's here. Someone was outside the kitchen window!" she says urgently, at the same time trying to keep her voice low.
"How long ago?"
"About two minutes."
"Okay, hold on just a second." He picks up a long-range walkie-talkie. "Weiss, where were you two minutes ago?"
"Outside your house. Why?" Weiss asks innocently.
"Where exactly?"
"Uh, out back, by the kitchen, I think."
"Laura heard you, you idiot!" Vaughn growls. "You're supposed to be watching them, not scaring them to death!" He drops the walkie-talkie before Weiss can respond. "Laura, it's okay. It was just Weiss. He's supposed to be watching the house. I'm going to tell him to come inside, okay?"
"Okay, sorry I bothered you Daddy."
"It's fine. It's Weiss's fault, he should have been quieter. Wait for him to identify himself, okay?"
"Kay. Bye Daddy."
"Bye. Be careful."
******************************************************************************************
Great. The-Amazing-Weiss-Who-Makes-Things-Worse to the rescue again.
I hear a knock on the door and Weiss calling out, "It's Agent Weiss! Your dad said for me to come in there with you!"
I go to the front door, but deliberately let him bang on the door for a while.
"Prove you are who you say you are!" I finally call out in feigned innocence.
He slips his CIA badge through the mail slot.
"This doesn't look like you," I call as I look through the slot.
"But…It is!" he cries pitifully.
Stifling a laugh, I open the door and step back to remain hidden from view of anyone outside.
From the look on his face, I think I would accurately guess that he thinks I'm an innocent little kid who's genuinely scared and being overly cautious.
Brandon comes running up when Weiss walks into the den.
"Will you play with me?" he asks, pouting in the way only a small child can. "Laurie won't let me go outside!"
"I can't, little guy. I have to protect you and your sister from the bad guys," Weiss replies.
I roll my eyes in frustration as Brandon begins whimpering.
"B-bad guys?"
"Yeah, just like in the Ninja Turtles," Weiss says enthusiastically, not noticing he's scared the kid.
"No, Brandon, we're safe. There are no bad guys here," I break in. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" I spit, glaring at Weiss.
He follows me obediently into the kitchen. I think I shocked him.
"Are you stupid?" I start. "Brandon is scared enough without you introducing new scary ideas to him! Stop it!" I say sharply.
He stares at me open mouthed.
"And I *knew* what I was doing when I told Daddy you called Kendall an ass!" That was a mistake, but I'm on a roll now. "I *knew* that was you at the door, you're just too easy because you think I'm a little kid! You aren't being the least bit helpful! Any time you're around I'm on constant damage control!"
"Feisty little thing, ain't you? You're just like your mother…" Weiss mumbles.
"There you go again! My mom's *missing* and here you are telling me how much like her I am!" I cry, tears falling despite efforts to hold them in check. "You're! Not! Helping!" I sob.
He moves and puts his hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I'm not used to kids, I'm trying," he says shyly. "I want to be helpful, but this isn't an everyday situation."
I shrug his hand off and smile weakly.
"I know. I'm sorry, but you do make things hard. You're not great with little kids," I say softly.
"Let's make a deal. You don't try to make me look bad anymore, and I won't…I'll try not to upset your brother," Weiss says.
"Okay," I agree, smiling a little. "We can try that. But if you can't uphold your part of the bargain, I get to pick on you."
"Okay. And, uh, I'll try to be quieter when I'm outside so you guys don't hear me."
I smile gently. He still irritates me, but at least he's trying. It's not really his fault he sucks at playing baby-sitter.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Isn't the end cute? At least I didn't end this chapter with a bunch of loose ends, right?
Criticism or praise (praise preferably) welcomed!
Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Alias. But if someone wants me to take it off his hands…
_____________________________________________________________________________________
I open my eyes to see Brandon standing over me.
"You were yelling," he informs me.
I'm shivering slightly, but I try to hide it so he doesn't notice.
"What was I saying?" I ask, almost afraid of the answer.
"You were saying, 'Momma, Momma, wake up, please!' You were loud."
"Did I wake you up?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'm sorry. Go back to sleep. I won't do it again."
"I'm awake now. I can't go back to sleep. I wanna go outside."
"No! You have to stay in here, in this room, unless I say you can leave. You have some toys in your suitcase," I say, pointing in the corner of the room.
******************************************************************************************
"Mike! You've got to hear this! Come on, man!" Weiss greets him.
"What now?" Vaughn moans.
"Listen to this!" Weiss presses a button on a tape player.
"Tap-tap, tap, tap-tap-tap…"
Vaughn pulls out a pencil and jots down the letters. His eyes widen as he reads the message.
"Where was it? Did you trace it?" he cries.
"Down near San Francisco."
"We have a storage place there!"
"Yeah. They got robbed at the same time we got this call. The blue prints of a Rambaldi artifact disappeared. This is what they found in the upstairs office where the prints where kept in a safe."
He hands Vaughn a copy of a piece of paper that was dusted for fingerprints. There are plenty of them.
"So? We assume this was an amateur…"
"The prints are Syd's," Weiss interrupts.
"She thinks he has the kids! She'll do anything he wants if he threatens to hurt them! He's trying, too. We got shot at yesterday at their house."
"We'll get them, man. Sloane can't hide forever. And Syd's smart. She'll give us leads."
"Where to now? San Francisco?"
"Actually, Kendall wants us for a briefing in ten minutes. I imagine it's about something like that."
Vaughn smacks himself in the forehead.
"I can't go. I can't leave the kids, Weiss. You'll have to find her."
"I will, if that's what Kendall wants," Weiss says. An idea strikes him. "Mike, may be you should talk to Derevko. I mean, we've only had her for three months. Who knows what she might can tell us?"
"You go talk to her," Vaughn snaps instantly. There's been no love lost between Derevko and himself.
"Just an idea," Weiss mumbles.
None the less, after explaining to an outraged Kendall why he'd be more useful protecting the kids, Vaughn goes to the holding cell to see Sydney's mother.
"Agent Vaughn," she says pleasantly, giving him that intensely irritating slight smile.
"Sydney's missing," he greets her.
"That's not news. You haven't been able to locate her in years," she says softly, her smile dimming.
"We found her. When we got there, the place was a wreck. Our children were hiding in their back yard. I want to know if you know if there's any place Sloane might take Sydney."
Irina's smile has disappears completely and is now replaced by a worried frown.
"As I've repeatedly told the CIA, I've had no contact with Arvin Sloane since before the oldest girl was born. You never would tell me what you named her. I had to find out for myself," Derevko says with what Vaughn classifies as a pout in her voice.
"Do you know where he might be keeping Sydney?" he repeats firmly.
Irina steps away from the glass and slowly paces across the cell.
"There is one place I know of that he still has. Sloane kept an FBI agent there for a while years ago. It's in New York." She proceeds to give him directions.
"Agent Vaughn?" she calls as he turns to leave. "You'll let me know when she's found?"
He hears genuine concern and pleading in her voice. It makes her appear to him strangely human and vulnerable.
"Yeah. I will," he promises.
******************************************************************************************
Sydney is not sure how long the plane flight lasted, but she knows it was over three hours at the very least. She does not know where they are now. The car they're in has tinted windows and a limousine-style barrier between the front and back seats. By keeping the barrier up, Sloane effectively prevents her from figuring out where they are.
She can hear Sloane talking in low tones with the driver, but she can't tell what is being said. She's pretty sure she hears up the words "new" and "city" along the way, but she can't be sure they were even in the same sentence.
Sloane lowers the barrier just enough to toss a plain brown paper bag at her.
"Change into this," he orders crisply. "You'll want to look nice here." She can practically *hear* him smirk.
She opens the bag to find a short floral print dress of light material, like someone on vacation during the summer might wear, tan sandals, and a long red wig. Sydney sees the irony of the red wig, as it matches her current temper. She changes quickly, imagining what she'll do to Sloane if he lowers that barrier too soon. The images are oddly satisfying.
Several minutes later when he does lower the barrier, he does so only enough to speak to her.
"This is fairly simple. For the few minutes we will be visible, you are to act as if I'm you're uncle, and we're vacationing from the southern US. Trying to attract attention would be a grave mistake."
"Understood, *Uncle*," Sydney says, spiting it back at him hatefully, her teeth clenched tightly.
******************************************************************************************
"My name's Laura Vaughn, I need to speak to Michael Vaughn," Laura says anxiously.
"Laura? What's wrong?" Vaughn answers the phone.
"Daddy, I think someone's here. Someone was outside the kitchen window!" she says urgently, at the same time trying to keep her voice low.
"How long ago?"
"About two minutes."
"Okay, hold on just a second." He picks up a long-range walkie-talkie. "Weiss, where were you two minutes ago?"
"Outside your house. Why?" Weiss asks innocently.
"Where exactly?"
"Uh, out back, by the kitchen, I think."
"Laura heard you, you idiot!" Vaughn growls. "You're supposed to be watching them, not scaring them to death!" He drops the walkie-talkie before Weiss can respond. "Laura, it's okay. It was just Weiss. He's supposed to be watching the house. I'm going to tell him to come inside, okay?"
"Okay, sorry I bothered you Daddy."
"It's fine. It's Weiss's fault, he should have been quieter. Wait for him to identify himself, okay?"
"Kay. Bye Daddy."
"Bye. Be careful."
******************************************************************************************
Great. The-Amazing-Weiss-Who-Makes-Things-Worse to the rescue again.
I hear a knock on the door and Weiss calling out, "It's Agent Weiss! Your dad said for me to come in there with you!"
I go to the front door, but deliberately let him bang on the door for a while.
"Prove you are who you say you are!" I finally call out in feigned innocence.
He slips his CIA badge through the mail slot.
"This doesn't look like you," I call as I look through the slot.
"But…It is!" he cries pitifully.
Stifling a laugh, I open the door and step back to remain hidden from view of anyone outside.
From the look on his face, I think I would accurately guess that he thinks I'm an innocent little kid who's genuinely scared and being overly cautious.
Brandon comes running up when Weiss walks into the den.
"Will you play with me?" he asks, pouting in the way only a small child can. "Laurie won't let me go outside!"
"I can't, little guy. I have to protect you and your sister from the bad guys," Weiss replies.
I roll my eyes in frustration as Brandon begins whimpering.
"B-bad guys?"
"Yeah, just like in the Ninja Turtles," Weiss says enthusiastically, not noticing he's scared the kid.
"No, Brandon, we're safe. There are no bad guys here," I break in. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" I spit, glaring at Weiss.
He follows me obediently into the kitchen. I think I shocked him.
"Are you stupid?" I start. "Brandon is scared enough without you introducing new scary ideas to him! Stop it!" I say sharply.
He stares at me open mouthed.
"And I *knew* what I was doing when I told Daddy you called Kendall an ass!" That was a mistake, but I'm on a roll now. "I *knew* that was you at the door, you're just too easy because you think I'm a little kid! You aren't being the least bit helpful! Any time you're around I'm on constant damage control!"
"Feisty little thing, ain't you? You're just like your mother…" Weiss mumbles.
"There you go again! My mom's *missing* and here you are telling me how much like her I am!" I cry, tears falling despite efforts to hold them in check. "You're! Not! Helping!" I sob.
He moves and puts his hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I'm not used to kids, I'm trying," he says shyly. "I want to be helpful, but this isn't an everyday situation."
I shrug his hand off and smile weakly.
"I know. I'm sorry, but you do make things hard. You're not great with little kids," I say softly.
"Let's make a deal. You don't try to make me look bad anymore, and I won't…I'll try not to upset your brother," Weiss says.
"Okay," I agree, smiling a little. "We can try that. But if you can't uphold your part of the bargain, I get to pick on you."
"Okay. And, uh, I'll try to be quieter when I'm outside so you guys don't hear me."
I smile gently. He still irritates me, but at least he's trying. It's not really his fault he sucks at playing baby-sitter.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Isn't the end cute? At least I didn't end this chapter with a bunch of loose ends, right?
Criticism or praise (praise preferably) welcomed!
