Chapter Twelve: Dropped and Broken

Michael Vaughn did not expect to find things changed as he walked through the door of the home he had shared with Alice; a mere forty-eight hours had passed since he'd last crossed the threshold. Alice had been busy, however, as Vaughn discovered when he turned after removing his keys from the deadbolt, slowly dropping them into his pocket. His eyes scanned the living room, the place where it had all begun to unravel. Packing boxes were everywhere, vestiges of a marriage horribly torn apart by the thing in life Vaughn despised most: untruth.

A series of phone calls had been exchanged in the preceding days. Alice had made plans to move in with her mother; Vaughn had negotiated a lease and secured an apartment just a few doors down from Weiss. Neither situation was entirely ideal, but it was necessary, as were the calls Vaughn made to a lawyer friend of his who knew how to get things done. In a matter of days, the holy union of Alice and Michael Vaughn would be erased, nothing left but bitter memories and the throbbing ache of wasted time.

Vaughn took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves, meandering through the stacked boxes to find the ones marked with a solid black "M". Alice didn't emerge from the kitchen until he was almost finished, after he'd come back through the front door to claim the last box and a few stray personal items. He was about to the door, on his way back to his loaded down vehicle when she entered the room, her eyes red-rimmed, her face stained with countless tears.

"I think I got everything," Vaughn said quietly, balancing the boxes on his knee as he readjusted his grip. "Thanks for boxing it all up. You didn't have to do that."

"The movers are coming tomorrow," Alice said by way of explanation. "And my friend Angela - she and her husband are subletting – they'll be moving in on Saturday."

Vaughn nodded, avoiding Alice's eyes. For everything she had put him through, it was outside the realm of his being to feel hatred for her. Her tears affected him. For the first time, he felt the sting of regret, the pangs of "what if". Pushing it aside, he cleared his throat.

"Did you get my message, about meeting the lawyer at the courthouse tomorrow?"

Alice nodded, new tears spilling over. She swiped at them with her hand, sniffing them back, forcing herself to be stronger than she felt. "Yes. Eight o'clock. I'll be there."

"Okay," Vaughn said, quietly stealing a glance at her. She looked fragile and lost, and he forced himself to pull open the door and step out into the hallway. "I guess I'm done, then."

"Michael," His name burst from Alice's lips in desperation as she yanked the door open further, filling the doorway with her palpable grief. "I'm so-"

Vaughn cut her off. He couldn't bear to hear the words again, words that from her lips carried no meaning. "I'll see you tomorrow, Alice." With that, he turned and was gone, grateful when the elevator doors closed and he could no longer hear her cry.

"What do you say we go home, shower, and then go get some huge, fluffy pancakes for breakfast?" Will rubbed his hands together, already anticipating the delicious meal. "With lots of butter and syrup."

"Will!" Sydney laughed out loud, reaching over to playfully shove him. "That totally defeats the purpose of what we just did."

"So what? We'll run another three miles tomorrow," Will smiled, stopping on the sidewalk as Pip bounded over to him, her favorite toy in her mouth. She bit it until it squeaked and dropped it at Will's feet. He picked it up and threw it a few yards away beyond an overgrown hedge; Pip barked excitedly and took off in pursuit.

Sydney sighed contentedly, reaching up to smooth a few stray strands of her chestnut hair back into her messy French braid. The run around the park had been great exercise and an even better release after a week that had proved to be the most stressful of any she'd had since she'd returned.

Glancing at her watch, Sydney grinned. "I still don't know how you managed to get Kendall to let you take the morning off," She said, watching as Pip came circling back their way, her tail wagging exuberantly.  "In his book, missing morning briefing is a crime punishable by death."

"It was easy," Will shrugged, once again sending Pip to chase down her toy. "I told him you needed some time off."

"Oh, thanks," Sydney rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Drag me into this."

"You and me, Syd," Will elbowed her gently. "We're in this together."

They continued down the sidewalk for another block or so, Pip catching up with them and begging to play again. Will indulged her once more and paused, waiting for her to come back. They were about two blocks from the apartment, walking down streets heavy with single family bungalows and starter homes, the lawns neatly kept, the yards littered with kids' toys and amateur landscaping.

Nearing the corner where they would turn to head home, Sydney stopped to retie her shoelace. As she stood once again, she glanced toward the street. Will was playing tug-o'-war with Pip, trying in vein to wrestle the chew toy from her teeth, both of them making playful grunting noises. Sydney narrowed her eyes, reaching to tap Will's shoulder.

"Was that there when we came by earlier?" She nodded toward a silver van parked at the curb no more than twenty feet from where they stood.

Will looked up. "Parker's Landscaping," He read the block lettering on the side of the vehicle. "No, I don't think so." Unconcerned, he turned his attention back to the dog, finally freeing the toy and tossing it a few yards away. Pip, following her usual routine, barked and took off.

Sydney watched the van for a moment longer and then suddenly turned. She scanned the silent, empty yards of the nearby houses, the hair at the back of her neck prickling.

"Will," She said, her voice low. "Where are the landscapers?"

Will glanced at her and then followed her gaze, scanning the surrounding lawns. He shrugged. "I don't know. On a break?"

Together, Will and Sydney glanced back at the van and then made eye contact, both of them thinking the same thing.

Will instinctively reached into his pocket for his cell phone just as Sydney pushed him hard from behind.

"Will," She commanded fiercely. "Run!"

It was then that it all came apart. Before they could force their bodies into action, the van doors sprang open and two formidable men were upon them. One of them went for Will while the other attempted to wrestle Sydney into submission; it was going to be a battle hard won. She was determined from the outset to put up the fight of her life.

Will didn't have time to react before the blast from a tazer sent him sprawling onto the ground. He cried out in pain as he was zapped again, rendering him momentarily defenseless as he twitched uncontrollably, his face pressed into the cool blades of grass.

The thug standing over him was about to blast him again when a large black blur swooped in, knocking him to the ground. Pip had transformed from a gentle, playful dog into a thrashing beast, growling angrily as she sank her teeth into the arm of the man who had dared to hurt her beloved owner.

Sydney knew nothing of this; she was locked in a fight of her own, whirling around to land a swift kick squarely in her assailant's chest. He grunted and flew back against the van, rocking it hard. Instead of incapacitating him, as Sydney had hoped, it only made him angrier. He rushed Sydney, tackling her forcefully. When she hit the ground, the wind momentarily left her body in a tortured groan and she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut, fighting waves of nausea. She regained control and opened her eyes again just as Pip came from seemingly nowhere, baring her fangs and snarling like a hound of hell.

The man on top of her screamed as Pip tore into the flesh of his shoulder. He reared back and whirled around, grabbing the dog by her hind legs.

"NO!" Sydney screamed, scrambling to her feet. It was too late; the sickening crunch of breaking bones assaulted her ears as Pip was rendered lame, her sleek black body dropping to the grass as she howled in pain. Fighting a rush of tears, Sydney flew at the man responsible, her fists exploding in a fury of vengeful blows.

On the ground, Will began to come around. He raised his head, looking up just in time to see Sydney flattened against the side of the van as one of the men tossed her through the air like a rag doll. Rage and adrenaline coursed through Will's body; he was immediately on his feet.

"You bastard!" He shouted, rushing forward, attempting to come to Sydney's aid. He was stopped cold, however, when he was clotheslined by the second assailant. Falling to the ground with a thud, Will found himself no less than a foot from a crumpled mass of whimpering black fur. He reached towards his injured dog, his breath catching in his throat. "Pip? Girl? Oh, god, no… oh, Pip…"

Will's grief was cut short as he was yanked up by the collar of his shirt, gagging as the material cut into his throat. When he was on his feet, the man who had knocked him down locked his bloody, dog-bitten arm around Will's neck.

"Hey!" The man shouted. Sydney turned from attempting once again to untangle herself from her attacker and gasped at the sight of a gun being held to her friend's head. Will's eyes locked on hers. He tried in vain to communicate with her, to insist that she keep fighting. But if she understood, she had no intention of showing it.

"Okay, okay," Sydney held up her hands, breathing heavily, her body hurting, her heart beating wildly. She kept her eyes on Will, forcing him to hold her gaze.

The man at her side picked up the tazer from the ground. Without warning, he shocked Sydney once, and then again as she fell to her knees, shuddering violently, crying out as her body twitched. She dropped forward, resting her head on her hands until she was suddenly jerked backward by her head, the man tugging mercilessly on her French braid.

"Sydney," Will moaned, watching helplessly as she attempted not to display the depth of her agony.

The assailant wasn't finished. He held Sydney up by her braid, forcing her to remain on her knees as he tossed the tazer to his friend.

"Hey, watch this," the thug at Will's side cackled. He let go of his grip on Will's neck and suddenly kicked Will in the right knee with incredible force. Will screamed and immediately dropped, sprawling on the grass, twitching in pain. Sydney clamped her eyes shut as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Open your eyes!" Sydney did was she was told, the tug on her braid excruciating.

Will lay on the grass, gasping quietly. His torture was complete when the man standing over him zapped him once, twice and again with the tazer, laughing maniacally as Will's body convulsed, writhing with pain and uncontrollable terror. Sydney released a sob, unable to contain her emotion. Her physical torture was bearable; watching her best friend go through it was not.

One last shock was all it took to put Will out completely. He looked at Sydney once more before his eyes closed and he slumped into the grass. 

"Will!" Sydney sobbed, trying to pitch forward, trying to reach out to him. A hard yank on her braid brought her painfully back to the predicament at hand; she wondered for a moment if this was it. The idea of death danced unabated through her mind and she closed her eyes to it, the haunting images turning her stomach, making her gag.

"Enough!" A voice sounded behind her as the van door slid open. "If you seriously harm her, you'll pay with your lives."

Sydney's mind screamed the impossible: Sark!

Sydney was pulled harshly to her feet. A blindfold made of rough cloth was bound around her eyes, hard plastic handcuffs snapped around her wrists.

"Secure her hands in front," Sark directed. "I want to keep an eye on them at all times. Agent Bristow is quite a resourceful girl."

Sydney whimpered as the handcuffs were tightened, cutting into her wrists. She was shoved forcefully into the van, made to lay face up on the floor, unidentifiable objects beneath her making comfort impossibility.

"Time to take a nap, now, Sydney," Sark's voice loomed above her as the van doors closed, the vehicle's engine roaring to life. A pinch in her arm was followed by a spreading warmth that encapsulated her body, fogging her mind until everything faded blissfully to black.

More than fifteen minutes passed before Will regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open as he became aware of a throbbing pain in his right knee. His face pressed to the grass, an insect buzzing around his ear, he gulped in a few deep breaths so quickly that he coughed, his body aching with the effort.

Slowly lifting his head from the ground, Will blinked hard, attempting to clear his mind. As reality slammed home, reminding him of the horror in which he had been an unwilling participant, he gasped, his eyes settling on the pitiful shape of his dog. Pip, her back legs useless, had dragged herself over to Will's side, coming to rest with her head on his outstretched hand. Withdrawing it from beneath her, Will was relieved when she gazed up at him, her eyes glassy, her breathing ragged.

"It's okay, girl," Will said soothingly, gently touching Pip's head. He attempted then to push himself upright, but tremendous pain in his knee forced him back down, grasping blades of grass between his fingers as he struggled to keep his stomach from churning. Breathing deeply, Will glanced up and half-smiled at the sight of his cell phone. It was laying in the grass just inches from his left hand.

Seizing it quickly, Will dialed the number he had memorized only days before and waited through three infinitely long rings before someone picked up. "This is Will Tippin," He nearly shouted into the phone. "Security clearance 22-04-74. This is an emergency – I need Jack Bristow right now!"

"Well, that didn't take long," Alice said, sounding slightly surprised as she and Vaughn exited the elevator, stepping into the lobby of the courthouse, their footsteps echoing off the marble tile and large, elegant columns near the front entrance.

"No, it didn't," Vaughn replied, for lack of anything better to say. He didn't know what else he could say; there were no words, no casual sentiments to sum up the way he felt now that his marriage was no more.

"I didn't realize an annulment went so quickly," Alice prattled on, nervously speaking the first words that came to mind. She had been struggling with her emotions for the better part of an hour, starting shortly after she'd arrived and realized there would be no turning back.

Vaughn simply nodded, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks, avoiding Alice's eyes. The stood and faced each other for a moment, both of them uncertain of everything except what had just taken place in a judge's chambers two floors above where they now stood.

Alice drew in a shaky breath, attempting a smile. "Well," She said, meeting Vaughn's eyes as he glanced her way. "I guess this is it, then-" She couldn't finish, her voice choked by a sob that rushed from her throat at the same moment that tears sprang to her eyes. She lifted a hand to her mouth. "Excuse me," She managed before turning to rush into the nearby restroom, leaving Vaughn standing alone and feeling very unsettled.

Raking a hand through his hair, Vaughn was relieved when his cell phone rang, setting him free from the regret that had begun creeping up on the edges of his mind. He answered briskly, momentarily cheered to hear Weiss's voice.

"Vaughn, are you sitting down?"

"No," Vaughn smiled, certain he was about to hear another 'I just ran into a hot Hollywood star at Starbucks' story. "Why?"

"I don't know if I should tell you this over the phone."

"C'mon, man," Vaughn chuckled. "Just come out with it. Was it Jennifer Aniston? No, wait, maybe it was Julia Roberts."

"Mike, Syd's gone."

Vaughn felt as if someone had slugged him in the gut. For a moment, he couldn't breath and fought the urge to double over. "Wh-what? Tell me you're kidding."

Weiss's serious tone let him know this was not a joke. "Jack just got the call from Will. Two guys, a van… she's been taken."

An eerie calm overcame Vaughn as he felt himself snap immediately into a professional state of mind. "How long ago?"

"Thirty minutes, tops. Will was blacked out for a while, but he's pretty certain on the time," Weiss replied. "Everybody's here, at the ops center. We're just waiting for Kendall's directive."

"Has the tracking device been activated?" Vaughn began pacing, his mind hurtling through possibilities and protocol.

"Not yet."

Vaughn sighed. "Okay, that's not good," He lamented. "Is the tactical team assembling?  What's being done?"

"The tactical team is standing by, Mike, and we're on it," Weiss assured him. "I told Jack there was no way they could go without me and you."

Vaughn took a deep breath, fighting a wave of panic as his logic folded to images he tried desperately to block out. "Okay, I'm on my way. Don't let anyone leave without me. There's no way I'm letting Sydney go this time. No way in hell."

"I knew you'd feel that way," Weiss concluded. "Get here fast, man."

"I'll be there in ten," Vaughn ended the call and quickly dropped his cell phone in his pocket. He turned quickly and stopped cold when he came face to face with Alice, her red-rimmed eyes wide and unblinking.

"Michael?" She questioned, her voice hollow. "What was that all about?"

Vaughn was frozen, his mouth wide open as he wondered exactly how much Alice had overheard. It had never been against protocol for him to tell her that he worked for the CIA, although certain aspects of the job would have been off limits to discuss. He had avoided the whole conflict entirely, however, by never telling her more than that he worked in the foreign relations division of the State Department.

Once again, truth had revealed itself to them in a shocking display of reality.

"Michael," Alice prodded, narrowing her eyes. "Tracking device? Tactical team? What were you talking about?"

"Alice," Vaughn took her elbow and led her into a corner by the bank of elevators. "It's just a work thing, that's all."

Alice looked around, troubled by Vaughn's sudden desire for privacy. "A work thing?" She questioned, perplexed. "Michael, you work for the State Department."

Impatient with her questioning, the urgency of the situation at the ops center weighing heavy on his mind, anger flashed in Vaughn's eyes. "What do you think I do for the State Department, Alice?" He snapped. Alice gasped, wounded by his tone. He hung his head, sighing. "I'm sorry," He said quietly. Meeting her eyes again, he confessed, his voice low. "I'm an officer of the CIA."

Alice's eyes were as wide as saucers as she raised a hand to her throat. "The CIA?" She echoed, her voice a whisper. "Like, with spies?" When Vaughn nodded in affirmation, Alice fought nobly against a fresh rush of tears. "Michael," She breathed. "There's so much I don't know about you."

Vaughn met her eyes. "The feeling is mutual," He said darkly.

Alice drew back from him, looking away. His words had stung, and he rushed to apologize. Alice cut him off with the wave of her hand. "No," She said strongly. "I deserved that." Brushing tears from her cheeks, she attempted a smile. "And you, Michael – you deserve to be happy."

It was the first moment of honesty they had shared in several days. Vaughn reached for her hands, slipping his wedding band from his pocket and pressing it into her palm.

"Take care of yourself, Alice," He said sincerely. He leaned in to lightly kiss her forehead, and she inhaled sharply, biting her lip as she fought to stay in control. When Vaughn pulled back, he had his car keys in his hand. "I can take you home, if you'd like."

"No," Alice shook her head, smiling faintly. "I'll be okay. You go save the world."

Sydney awoke with a start and coughed violently, her sides aching with bruises, evidence of a battle hard fought and lost. Her tongue felt like sandpaper as she attempted to swallow, her throat raw and pleading for hydration.

As reality cut through the receding darkness in her mind, Sydney forced herself to remain calm. Taking deep breaths, she quickly assessed the situation as she found herself in it, grateful that she was now lying flat on her back, nothing beneath her but a coarse carpet. Her elbows rubbed against it as she tried to alleviate the ache in her bound wrists, wincing as the plastic used to secure them cut further into her skin.

Blocking out the sound of her own heartbeat that pounded mercilessly in her ears, Sydney strained to hear noise, any noise that would help her identify where she was. Somewhere to her left, she heard the steady, rhythmic clack of fingers on a computer keyboard. She also detected a low hum that seemed to surround her, followed shortly by a mechanical whirring. Sydney was jarred suddenly, the whole earth seeming to lurch beneath her.

Drawing in a sharp breath, the realization struck her that she was on an airplane; the landing gear had just been lowered and the aircraft seemed to be slowing. Sydney was about to lift her hands to her eyes to try to raise an edge of the blindfold when another coughing fit consumed her. She rolled onto her side, her nose bumping hard against the interior wall of the aircraft. She brought her hands to her throat, trying to catch her breath. It was then, as her fingers grazed against it, she remembered the gift Marshall had given her two days before.

Sydney grasped the silver heart pendant that hung on a chain around her neck. It took all of her strength not to cry out as she maneuvered her wrists so she could grip the pendant and the clasp by which it was attached. Carefully, she rotated the heart 180 degrees and then gripped it tightly, prying it apart. A small, white capsule dropped out and into her hand; she concealed it in her fist and closed the pendant, dropping it back against her neck.

Forcing herself to cough yet again, Sydney lifted her hands to her mouth and slid the capsule under her tongue. It was bitter, and she nearly gagged, her face contorting beneath the tightly wrapped blindfold.

"Water," She forced the word from her mouth, her strained voice unrecognizable. "Please," She pleaded, hoping someone was nearby to hear her. "I need water."

Hearing footsteps on the carpet, Sydney relaxed against the floor just as a bottle of water was placed next to her lips. She drank quickly, allowing the pill to be washed down her throat, sputtering slightly as she swallowed too much. The water was taken away, and she coughed again, raising her hands to her mouth to wipe the liquid from her lips.

As the pill settled in her stomach, Sydney let out a deep breath. She hoped she had taken it in enough time to stop her downward spiral into a world without time, a world without memories. So far she could recall all that had happened to her, and she held onto it, determined not to lose herself again.

Suddenly, a hand was on her arm, pushing up the sleeve of her t-shirt. Sydney fidgeted, knowing that the pinch of the syringe was soon to follow.

"No," She moaned as the needle penetrated her skin. In a matter of moments, she was rendered defenseless as once again the spreading warmth lulled her into darkness.

Sitting in the conference room, spinning an empty plastic water bottle on the tabletop, Vaughn exhaled deeply. It seemed he had done nothing for the last few hours but stare at the clock and watch the seconds tick by in agonizing slow motion. He and Weiss were posed and ready, their tactical gear in a car downstairs. They were simply waiting for the word, waiting for any signal that would give them a clue about where Sydney had been taken.

Frustrated, Vaughn grabbed the water bottle and tossed it toward the door just as it opened and Weiss appeared, dodging the flying object in time to avoid being hit.

"Hey," He said, wide-eyed. "Save the violence for the op, will ya?"

"Any word yet?" Vaughn glanced over at him, knowing by the look on Weiss's face what the answer would be.

"Nothing," Weiss came over to the table and took a seat across from Vaughn. "The plane is gassed and ready to go. The rest of the unit is on stand-by. It's just a waiting game right now."

"I'm not good at waiting."

"I noticed," Weiss hid a smile, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. "Hey, how'd it go this morning?" He asked, desperate for any subject other than the one at hand.

"Fine," Vaughn replied, a shadow crossing his face. "Alice was, you know," His voice trailed off as he slipped into his memory, the image of her tears unsettling him further. "It was hard. But it's for the best. We both know that."

"I didn't think you could get annulments so quickly," Weiss mused, balling up a piece of paper before batting it around between his hands. He sighed, watching as the makeshift yellow ball slid across the slick tabletop. "I just talked to Will. He called in from the hospital to see how things are going."

"Yeah?" Vaughn looked up, reaching over to steal Weiss's toy. They began to knock it back and forth, avoiding each other's eyes. The weight of the world seemed to be upon them, and they relished any chance for distraction. "How is he?"

"His knee is messed up," Weiss sighed. "A pretty bad sprain. He thinks the doctor might cast it, just to be sure," He glanced up at the clock on the wall, then back at the ball as it skittered past him. "He wanted to know how Jack is doing."

Vaughn's eyes widened. "Now there's a loaded question."

"I can't tell you anything, Jack," Irina stood at the glass, her arms crossed over her chest. "I haven't spent any time with Arvin in the last few weeks, not since I helped Sydney escape. He could be back in Madagascar, or still in Hong Kong."

"We have intel that suggests he may be in southern Europe," Jack stood before the cell, his hands on the metal window joints, his face drawn and weary. His eyes told stories he couldn't hide; he was desperate to find his daughter, to keep her from vanishing yet again. "Where has he been in southern Europe?"

Irina turned away from the glass, the pain in Jack's eyes affecting her far too deeply. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her mind working quickly. "Italy. Rome, Tuscany. I already gave you everything I have. Beyond that, I don't know, Jack. I swear it."

Jack yanked his hands back, fighting the urge to pound a fist against the glass. He turned away from Irina, struggling against his anger, trying to prevent it from giving way to the fathomless emotions he dared not let this woman witness.

Jack was pulled from his dark thoughts as the secure door at the end of the prison corridor opened and Marshall entered, his footsteps heavy on the stone floor.

"Jack!" He called out, rushing to Jack's side. He stopped short, correcting himself, stumbling over his words. "Uh, Mr. Bristow. Or Agent Bristow. Which do you prefer, because really, I could go with either, but not both, of course, because that would be, well, Mr. Agent Bristow just sounds dumb-"

Simultaneously, Irina and Jack shouted, "Marshall!"

"Whoa," Marshall drew back, eyes wide, hands in the air. "Stereo! That was kinda cool, uhm," He gulped when he met Jack's smoldering eyes. "Anyway, uh, the tracking device? It was activated."

"Jack," Irina was suddenly at the glass again, her hands pressed to it, her fingers splayed as she met his eyes. "Let me go."

"What? No!"

"Think about it. Arvin doesn't know that I'm in your custody. I could go to him, pledge my allegiance, be let back inside. And then once I'm there, I can make sure Sydney is safe and lead you right to Sloane," Irina's eyes her wide, hopeful. "Please, Jack. I can do this."

"How do I know this isn't just a ploy to get out?" Jack's eyes narrowed, his expression hard. "If this turns out to be like Panama, Kendall will be happy to execute me in your place."

Irina shook her head vigorously. "I swear it, Jack," She lifted a finger to her chest and drew an imaginary "X" across her heart. "On Sydney's life, I swear it."

Jack sighed and hung his head. "If Sloane suspects that you're working with us, he won't hesitate to kill you."

Irina paused, drawing in a deep breath. "Either way, Jack, I'm dead," She said with painful honesty. "And I'd rather die out there, protecting our daughter, than on some sterile gurney with a needle in my arm," She pressed her hands to the glass once more, her face upturned to Jack's, her eyes begging him in ways her words could not. "Jack, please."

Jack exhaled deeply. With one glance back at Irina, he turned to the armed guard at the cell door.

"Let her out."

******

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who is faithful to read and review. I learn so much from you, and I appreciate you sharing your opinions. Please, do it again - let me know if I've done my job or how you think it could be better.

"Operators standing by… hello?"  (I love Marshall.)   :-)