Chapter One
"All I know is that she doesn't know what happened, or how she wound up in Hong Kong. She doesn't even remember our wedding, for crying out loud!" Vaughn sat in a meeting with Kendall, Marshall, and Weiss.
"Wow, man," Weiss said, "I knew she loves you, but not to the point where she'd lose her mind."
"Agent Weiss," Kendall said warningly.
"Eric.not funny," Vaughn said seriously. "She does know who she is. Well, she does, but she still thinks it's 2003."
"Agent Vaughn, explain," said Kendall.
"I got her home last night, and I had to explain everything that's happened over the last two years. She's also got a scar on her stomach."
"From what?" asked Weiss.
"If we knew, she would have known as well, and we wouldn't be having this conversation," said Kendall.
"Where's Jack?" asked Vaughn.
"He hasn't checked in since Thursday night. We haven't heard from him in three days. He was in Paris where Sydney was supposed to be. He's gone missing."
"Wait," Marshall interrupted. "Sydney doesn't remember anything. What if this was all supposed to happen? What if Sloane isn't the one in the Rambaldi prophecy? What if it's Sydney, and this was all prophesied?"
"We've decoded Rambaldi's manuscript before," said Kendall. "We didn't find anything about Sydney in there anywhere."
"Are you sure?" asked Vaughn.
"So wait, she doesn't remember anything?" asked Weiss.
"No," said Vaughn confidently. "She believes that it's 2003, and we still haven't taken our vacation in Santa Barbara yet. The last thing that she remembers is killing Allison Doran."
"We could try regression therapy," suggested Marshall. "We may be able to uncover what she lost, and even figure out what the scar is from."
"What does it look like?" asked Kendall.
"It's too small to be a cesarean section scar," said Vaughn.
"Are you sure? It could have faded and shrunk over the two years," said Weiss.
"It looks like a stab wound. It's on her stomach, over towards the right side," said Vaughn.
"Appendicitis?" asked Marshall. "She could have had her appendix removed."
"Isn't she a little old for appendicitis?" asked Weiss.
"It's possible, but it's more than likely a stab wound," said Kendall.
"I'll call her," Vaughn said, getting out his cell phone. "I'll have her come in again. She'll consent to the regression therapy and we'll have it all figured out eventually. What I want to know is what exactly happened to her in Paris, if she doesn't even remember our wedding, the most important day of our lives."
He dialed the number and she picked up, sounding a little sleepy. "Hello?" she asked.
"Did I wake you?" he asked.
"No," her tone immediately softened. "I was already awake."
"You're sure?" He headed out the door and into the hall.
"Yeah."
"Syd, they want you to do regression therapy. They think that it'll help bring back your memory. They just need your consent to do it."
"I figured that they'd want to do it," she said with a half chuckle.
"Will you sign the form?"
"I guess. Hey, where's my dad? I haven't even gotten a phone call from him."
"Syd.they.we haven't heard from him. He was with you in Paris."
"Vaughn, I thought we'd been over this. I may not remember much, but I know for a fact that I was never in Paris with my father."
"Okay, well, he was supposedly with you in Paris. He's gone missing."
"No." She went silent on the other line.
"Sydney?"
"When do you need me in?" she asked in a small voice.
"As soon as you can get here."
"Okay. I'll be there."
"Stay safe."
"I will."
He hung up with her and reported to Kendall that she'd be there. Maybe now they'd be able to bring back her memory and get a lead on something.
***
In an abandoned warehouse in France, Jack Bristow slowly regained consciousness. His eyes slowly adjusted to the light, and the shadowed figure standing in front of him.
"Sydney?" he mumbled upon seeing his daughter standing in front of him.
A shorter man walked in and stood next to her.
"Arvin," Jack said coldly, regaining his voice and adjusting to the surroundings.
"Jack. I told you before that we'd be seeing you again," Sloane said, with a warm tone as if they were still the best of friends.
"Sydney, what are you doing?" he asked, as he registered the fact that his daughter was standing next to Sloane. He tried to pull free from the chair, but discovered that he was handcuffed to it.
"You'll find out in due time, Jack," she said, before leaving with Sloane. As soon as they were down the hall, her voice easily slipped into a Russian accent that could easily rival her mother's. "Sydney's returned," she said to Sloane.
"How? How did she get away?" he asked.
"We're not sure. She was drugged. She was spotted a few days ago in Hong Kong, where Agent Vaughn retrieved her."
"How much does she know?"
"I intercepted a phone conversation between Agent Vaughn and Director Kendall. Apparently, she thinks that it's 2003 and she and Vaughn are going to Santa Barbara. She only remembers that she killed our asset. I have no doubt in my mind that she will be undergoing regression therapy, and they will manage to discover some of the things that she's done over the last two years."
"What about Sark?"
"What about him?"
"Is he in position?"
"Yes. Sark is in position. He's waiting for our signal."
"Give it. Tell Sark to move in."
"All I know is that she doesn't know what happened, or how she wound up in Hong Kong. She doesn't even remember our wedding, for crying out loud!" Vaughn sat in a meeting with Kendall, Marshall, and Weiss.
"Wow, man," Weiss said, "I knew she loves you, but not to the point where she'd lose her mind."
"Agent Weiss," Kendall said warningly.
"Eric.not funny," Vaughn said seriously. "She does know who she is. Well, she does, but she still thinks it's 2003."
"Agent Vaughn, explain," said Kendall.
"I got her home last night, and I had to explain everything that's happened over the last two years. She's also got a scar on her stomach."
"From what?" asked Weiss.
"If we knew, she would have known as well, and we wouldn't be having this conversation," said Kendall.
"Where's Jack?" asked Vaughn.
"He hasn't checked in since Thursday night. We haven't heard from him in three days. He was in Paris where Sydney was supposed to be. He's gone missing."
"Wait," Marshall interrupted. "Sydney doesn't remember anything. What if this was all supposed to happen? What if Sloane isn't the one in the Rambaldi prophecy? What if it's Sydney, and this was all prophesied?"
"We've decoded Rambaldi's manuscript before," said Kendall. "We didn't find anything about Sydney in there anywhere."
"Are you sure?" asked Vaughn.
"So wait, she doesn't remember anything?" asked Weiss.
"No," said Vaughn confidently. "She believes that it's 2003, and we still haven't taken our vacation in Santa Barbara yet. The last thing that she remembers is killing Allison Doran."
"We could try regression therapy," suggested Marshall. "We may be able to uncover what she lost, and even figure out what the scar is from."
"What does it look like?" asked Kendall.
"It's too small to be a cesarean section scar," said Vaughn.
"Are you sure? It could have faded and shrunk over the two years," said Weiss.
"It looks like a stab wound. It's on her stomach, over towards the right side," said Vaughn.
"Appendicitis?" asked Marshall. "She could have had her appendix removed."
"Isn't she a little old for appendicitis?" asked Weiss.
"It's possible, but it's more than likely a stab wound," said Kendall.
"I'll call her," Vaughn said, getting out his cell phone. "I'll have her come in again. She'll consent to the regression therapy and we'll have it all figured out eventually. What I want to know is what exactly happened to her in Paris, if she doesn't even remember our wedding, the most important day of our lives."
He dialed the number and she picked up, sounding a little sleepy. "Hello?" she asked.
"Did I wake you?" he asked.
"No," her tone immediately softened. "I was already awake."
"You're sure?" He headed out the door and into the hall.
"Yeah."
"Syd, they want you to do regression therapy. They think that it'll help bring back your memory. They just need your consent to do it."
"I figured that they'd want to do it," she said with a half chuckle.
"Will you sign the form?"
"I guess. Hey, where's my dad? I haven't even gotten a phone call from him."
"Syd.they.we haven't heard from him. He was with you in Paris."
"Vaughn, I thought we'd been over this. I may not remember much, but I know for a fact that I was never in Paris with my father."
"Okay, well, he was supposedly with you in Paris. He's gone missing."
"No." She went silent on the other line.
"Sydney?"
"When do you need me in?" she asked in a small voice.
"As soon as you can get here."
"Okay. I'll be there."
"Stay safe."
"I will."
He hung up with her and reported to Kendall that she'd be there. Maybe now they'd be able to bring back her memory and get a lead on something.
***
In an abandoned warehouse in France, Jack Bristow slowly regained consciousness. His eyes slowly adjusted to the light, and the shadowed figure standing in front of him.
"Sydney?" he mumbled upon seeing his daughter standing in front of him.
A shorter man walked in and stood next to her.
"Arvin," Jack said coldly, regaining his voice and adjusting to the surroundings.
"Jack. I told you before that we'd be seeing you again," Sloane said, with a warm tone as if they were still the best of friends.
"Sydney, what are you doing?" he asked, as he registered the fact that his daughter was standing next to Sloane. He tried to pull free from the chair, but discovered that he was handcuffed to it.
"You'll find out in due time, Jack," she said, before leaving with Sloane. As soon as they were down the hall, her voice easily slipped into a Russian accent that could easily rival her mother's. "Sydney's returned," she said to Sloane.
"How? How did she get away?" he asked.
"We're not sure. She was drugged. She was spotted a few days ago in Hong Kong, where Agent Vaughn retrieved her."
"How much does she know?"
"I intercepted a phone conversation between Agent Vaughn and Director Kendall. Apparently, she thinks that it's 2003 and she and Vaughn are going to Santa Barbara. She only remembers that she killed our asset. I have no doubt in my mind that she will be undergoing regression therapy, and they will manage to discover some of the things that she's done over the last two years."
"What about Sark?"
"What about him?"
"Is he in position?"
"Yes. Sark is in position. He's waiting for our signal."
"Give it. Tell Sark to move in."
