"Agent Bristow, Agent Bristow...I'm afraid I have some bad news to tell you.  You see, Agent Bristow, your sister is dead.  Do you hear me Agent Bristow? Sydney is dead! Your sister!  AGENT BRISTOW!!!"

            I sat at home in tearless shock; the sister that I had never known and in turn had never known me was dead.  We hadn't spent time bonding over popcorn parties and secrets or any other "normal thing that sisters do.  But since when was the Bristow family normal.  Instead, she had died, before she even knew she had a younger sister, and I was so similar too.  I could have helped her, I know I could have.

            You see I was a double agent too, recruited to SD-6 and soon after the CIA, just before I had graduated from High School.  However, when SD-6 and the alliance collapsed I ended up on the wrong side.  The CIA decided it would be best considering my "position" to keep tabs on the other side.  Now, after I heard that Sydney was dead I finally realized for the first time that I was becoming my mother.

            It wasn't really such a horrid fate, I had learned to forgive her and eventually love her after spending time working by her side.  I knew now, as I hadn't in the past that she had really loved my father and us, but she had been bound by a potentially deadly oath.

            I couldn't even really attend Syd's funeral, I just watched from a distance, behind big, black sunglasses, buried in my trench coat as the rain beat down on my oversized umbrella.  I couldn't go because since Sloane had discovered the truth about Dad and Sydney he'd kept close tabs on me.  I was even restricted as to my communication of the information I had to the CIA.  All communications had to be absolutely vital.  I didn't even know if I felt like what I was doing was worth it anymore.

            The funeral came to a close and people started to disperse.  I quickly turned on my heels and got out of there.  Closing my umbrella I got in the backseat of the waiting limo that held all of my luggage.  The partition slid down, "Nu, aan de luchthave die ik hebverondersteld."

            "Ja." I said. And we drove inconspicuously away toward the airport.

            My phone rang, "Not now I muttered under my breath.  Reluctantly I picked up the phone. "Bristow." I said unemotionally.

            "Alexis, where are you?!" My mother's voice rung through on the other line, "I just spoke with the pilot, he said you still weren't at the airport."

            My reply came sharper than I would have liked, "Well, mother, I had my sister, and lest you forget, your daughter's funeral to attend, forgive me if that ran a little over time."

            Completely ignoring my sarcasm my mother was simply growing impatient, "You better believe I haven't forgotten.  And really all I'm trying to do right now is to save your father and me the grief of loosing another daughter within a 48 hour period." With that her voice cut off.  There was no chance for me to make some reply to erase my guilt. Golly, she had a knack for doing that.

            I leaned my head back and sighed, this was ridiculous.  If whoever was after Sydney and now me really wanted us dead, he or she would pull it off.  After all half of their mission had already been completed.  Hiding me away would do nothing; I should be out there trying to stop this person before they could carry out whatever twisted plan they might have.

            The limo stopped, just outside my window the private jet my mother had reserved.  The door was opened for me and I was directed to the stairs leading to the plane door.

            The inside of the plane was fully furnished.  A closed off bedroom in the back, a modestly sized bathroom, a bar, and general seating area, something like a living room.

            Sitting down, I buckled my seatbelt and relaxed for the first time in a long while as the plane took off towards my mother elaborate home hidden somewhere in the outskirts of Cascastel, comparable to Chateau Prieure Borde-Rouge.  Dear me, my family was odd.