Disclaimer: Same as before.
A/N: Hello again. Well my play's almost finished and school will be over soon, so hopefully that'll mean I'll have more time on my hands. Thanks to all of you who reviewed my last chapter: Dream Writer 4 Life and jhfortier. Please keep them coming for they are much appreciated. Also thanks as usual to my beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well, on with the next chapter. R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex
He couldn't sleep. At least not now: hundreds of feet above the ocean, surrounded by other agents, and eyes having to adjust to the dim light of the CIA plane. And soon to be ever closer to finding his daughter and wife that he yearned for. Vaughn wouldn't have been able to get some rest even if he wanted to.
Deciding to leave Weiss snoring gently in the seat next to him, he started to walk slowly down the aisle. He glanced at the other agents asleep around him; 10 good men - fully armed, fully briefed and ready for what was to come. But a small light near the front of the plane illuminated the spot where the only female sat. The most important agent out of them all.
The light shining above her guided Vaughn closer. He looked over the back of her seat, surprised that she didn't turn around like he expected her to. He watched in fascination as she continued to draw in a sketchpad that lay open on her lap. Her hand guided the pencil along the paper as fluidly as a dance's movements, leaving fine graphite lines trailing along behind. Her hand captured every detail of - what he realised then to be - a park in L.A. "It's an excellent drawing," He stated, causing her to jump.
Tanya slammed the pad shut as she spun to face him. Her eyes were wide, all systems on full alert. Her guard relaxed when she saw it was him. "Oh, so it is possible to scare a Ghost?" He smiled in mild amusement.
"Who said I was a Ghost?" She challenged him. "Who said they even existed?"
"I think your conversation with Trout confirmed that they do," He pointed out.
"Ah, but they were just words Agent Vaughn. Some words have more than one meaning. They may have even been metaphors. All you know for sure is that I work for MI6 and I am going to assassinate Irina Derevko." She smiled triumphantly when she realised that he didn't have a comeback. "But words and names can also be put there for irony or an inside joke," She added.
"Oh?"
"You know over in American your citizens call FBI agents Feds." He nodded and she carried on, "Well in England, MI5 agents are known as Spooks. It would be amusing if we had Ghosts as well."
Vaughn chuckled at this and sat down in the seat next to her. She intrigued him; the whole idea of the Ghosts intrigued him. Were the agents trained like another 'Project Christmas' or did MI6 just find them? Or did they find MI6? How were they chosen? And how could anyone choose to live such a life? He decided that he might as well make an attempt to quell his curiosity. "Can I have a look at that?" He asked indicating to her sketchpad.
"Why?" She questioned protectively. "Many people can draw, so it's nothing special."
"Yes, but many people aren't as talented as you."
She considered his request then handed the pad over. "Just remember, Agent Vaughn, flattery will get you nowhere."
"Then why are you letting me look?"
"Because you asked so nicely."
He returned her smile, then turned his attention to her sketchpad. He studied the drawings that filled it. Every one was a detailed picture of different locations around the world - some he recognised and some he didn't - but there were never any writing to say when or where it was drawn. "Are these all the place you've been to?"
Tanya paused for a moment as she thought over just how much she should reveal. Then she nodded. "I draw a picture of something important and significant to that nation every time I visit the country. I don't have a passport to remind me, so instead I have this."
Turning the page, he realised the next picture was of the river Thames in London and the Houses of Parliament beyond it. "Do you live in London?"
She paused again. Her whole life was made up of lies and secrets. She knew she had to be cautious with her answers. "Yes."
She paused then pointed to the picture on the opposite page. "This is Oxford Street," She informed him as he stared at the wide road surrounded by shops. "It's famous for being the place to shop. Every Christmas, thousands of people go there. They literally take up the whole road. You're basically shoulder-to-shoulder with the shopper next to you as you battle along. It's definitely an experience, one I think your daughter would love to have."
Vaughn turned to stare at her intensely. He hadn't mentioned anything about his personal life, let alone his daughter to her. She studied his expression then her face filled with an understanding look. "I got Trout to do a background check on you and Weiss. I know all about your daughter and wife, also what has happened to them. I'm surprised that the CIA are letting you head this operation seeing as you probably want revenge," Tanya commented.
Vaughn felt a spark of anger fill him and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "From what I gathered from yours and Trout's conversation, this is revenge for you as well," He snapped back. "So why is MI6 letting you come?"
Her soft expression remained on her face as she paused in thought. "I'm not meant to tell you this," She confessed, "but a year ago, Derevko found three of our agents in Iraq. Two men, codenamed Philostrate and Antony, and a woman, codenamed Cleopatra. The men were killed instantly, but Cleopatra was tortured for two days until she took her cyanide capsule, loyal to our country 'til the end. When you're a - belong to my section, your fellow agents are your family. They don't know your real name or background or history, but they know less lies then everyone else. It would have been revenge for any of us." Her smile had disappeared and she turned her sad eyes away from Vaughn's gaze.
"Then why do you do it?" He questioned. "Why did you choose this life?"
She turned back. "I lost someone. Someone I loved very much."
Vaughn suddenly remembered her conversation with Trout. How he told her not to turn the mission into a personal vendetta. Not to make it about 'him'. "Did Irina Derevko kill him?"
She didn't respond. Instead she took back her sketchpad and continued to work on her picture. Vaughn guessed that she'd decided that she had already revealed too much. He watched her again as she worked; questions about her still nagged at him but he ignored them.
A necklace fell out from Tanya's collar as she leaned forwards. It was a simple silver cross. "Is your codename an inside joke?" Vaughn inquired when he saw the necklace. Tanya gave him a puzzled look until he pointed at her cross. "Or is another part of your alias?"
She smiled faintly. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you that."
A thin smile graced his lips in return and he ran a tired hand through his hair. He let her complete her drawing - amazed by how detailed and realistic it was - then decided he better learn what intel she knew. "So who is this contact we're going to see?" He asked.
"He's not exactly a contact," She responded. "More of a lead."
She pulled down her table, placed her laptop on top and switched it on. After it had loaded up, she clicked on a file labelled 'Artic Fox'.
"This is Stephan Gaarder," She informed Vaughn, pointing to the picture of the man on the screen. "He's 32, was born in Norway and is a total sleazebag. He runs a strip club in, strangely enough, Archangel, but owns several warehouses near the port. One of our agents in the area took these photos." She clicked with the mouse and two new photos filled half the screen each. Both had Gaarder in, and the man in the one on the left Vaughn recognised instantly.
"Mr. Kyi," He muttered darkly. "Who's the woman?" He pointed to the second photo that showed Gaarder talking to a woman with blond hair.
"We're not sure. We're almost certain that she works for Derevko though."
"How are you planning to get information out of Gaarder?"
"Oh, I have my ways. Me and Stephan go way back, but he knows me under the alias of Alyssa Cain."
"So what, you're planning to bribe him?"
"Yes."
"With what?"
Tanya looked at him meeting his eyes. She held his gaze; her face was covered by a professional and ready look.
"With his life."
****
The faulty sign still struggled to flash the Russian words that translate into English as 'Girls, Girls, Girls!' - money in any language. Inside the strip joint a haze of smoke lingered in every corner, which made eyes stream after 40 minutes of exposure. Dim lights hid the customers' faces, but the bright stage lights showed off the girls as they caressed the pole, dancing sinuously to the music.
Stephan Gaarder sat back, relaxing in the VIP booth with a martini in his hand, watching his merchandise. He smiled as his eyes greedily watched his employees doing their job. One of his men walked over, bent down and whispered in his ear, "Sorry to bother you sir, but there's a pretty little thing in your office wanting a screen test."
Gaarder sighed as if it bothered him and threw his man a sinful smile. "It's so hard sometimes being in charge!"
His bouncer chuckled and Gaarder walked off towards his office grinning like a Cheshire cat. He walked through the door to be greeted by the top of a woman's ebony hair sitting in the chair in front of his, her back towards him.
"I hear you want to work here," He said to the girl in Russian. "Well you'll have to show me what you've got first, 'cause I've got to know if you're good enough."
"Well I was last time," the girl replied sweetly in English. The chair slowly spun round revealing long black hair with bright red tips, chocolate coloured eyes and wicked smile that Gaarder knew too well.
"Alyssa!" He yelped, trying to back away. But before he could reach the door, it was slammed shut behind him and two men grabbed his arms. He looked wildly at them both; the man on his right had blond hair and the other, brown - both of them gripped his arms securely, preventing his escape. He gulped and looked at the woman. "Hey Al-Alyssa. L-long time no see."
"You look surprised to see me Stephan. Didn't you expect me to return after you sent those men after me?" Tanya asked, her tone remaining friendly and innocent the whole time.
"I swear Alyssa, I didn't know that they wanted to hurt you. Honest," Gaarder lied trying his best to sound convincing, but failing miserably.
"And the fact that one of them ordered the others to 'kill the bitch' didn't give it away?"
He shrugged, his whole body shaking like a jelly. "I was born in Oslo, my Russian's never been that great."
In a split second: Tanya crossed over, grabbed him by the back of the neck, swung him around and slammed his head against the desk. He whimpered as she pressed his head down against the hard wood. "You know those men did teach me some interesting torture techniques though. Would you like me to demonstrate?" Tanya whispered harshly and applied more pressure.
"Please Alyssa," Gaarder begged, "I'll do anything."
"Anything?"
"Anything," He yelled and she lessened the force she was applying to his skull.
"What do you know about Irina Derevko's whereabouts?"
"Who?"
Tanya slammed his head violently back down and he howled in pain. "All right. All right. I admit I know who you mean," He confessed. "But I've gotten out of that business. I'm living a straight life now."
Vaughn and Weiss, the only other people there, let out bitter laughs in dismay and shook their heads in disgust - how could a man who ran a strip club be 'living a straight life'? It surprised Vaughn just how strong and aggressive Arch Angel could be. Her face was set in an expression he'd only every seen on Jack Bristow: free from all emotions, but dangerous and professional.
"You're wasting my time Stephan," She told him in a singsong voice. "And wasting my time means that your time is quickly running out. Stop messing me about. I have pictures of you doing business with Mr. Kyi and blond lady who works for Derevko. What have you been doing for her?"
"I let her store things she imports in my warehouse," He wailed. "Don't know what. It's not wise to ask. I just get paid every month when they collect it."
Tanya stopped forcing his cranium into the solid desk and relaxed her hand so he could raise his head a few centimetres. He gasped heavily, breathing in air desperately. His face was red from where Tanya's hand had been and where it had been squashed against the wood.
"Who's the blond lady that works for Irina?" Vaughn demanded.
"That's Natalya Arkov. She's Mr. Sark's maid. For some reason, I don't know why, he sometimes sends her here to pay me. Cute thing though; wouldn't blame him if he was getting some extra service on the side."
Tanya kicked him brutally in the back of the knees causing them to buckle and smack his head against the table again. Vaughn saw unexplainable anger burning in her eyes. "Stick to the point," She warned through clenched teeth.
"Okay. Okay."
"So where's Derevko?"
"I don't - AWWWW!" He screamed as Tanya squished his skull back into the table once more. " I can't tell you! She'll kill me!"
"And what do you think I'm about to do?"
"All right! ALL RIGHT! There's a map in my safe. The combination is 57-26- 84. I've marked on where her and Sark are."
Weiss crossed over to the safe and unlocked it. He pulled out a map and held it up for the others to see. "That's it," Gaarder cried.
"And it has the locations on it?" Tanya checked.
"Yes. I swear."
She let go of his head and he straightened up. He rubbed his sore head gingerly as he began to shake once more with panic. "Oh god! Irina's gonna kill me when she finds out. She gonna kill me! Oh god! Oh god!!"
"Don't worry Gaarder, we're going to have two CIA agents take you to a safe house and protect you there," Tanya informed him, addressing him in the same tone you would use on a three-year-old child.
"Yeah?" He repeated hopefully.
"Yeah," She mocked. "And if it turns out that you're lying to us, then they'll kill you instead."
Shock took over Gaarder's face and he open his mouth wide like a fish to speak, but before he could Tanya had hit him around the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.
She took the map from Weiss and unrolled it on the desk. "Lets just hope the little weasel's telling the truth," She mumbled as she inspected it with the others, "'Cause it's the only lead I've got."
A/n: What do you think? The only way I'm gonna know is by you telling me, so hit that button NOW!!! :o)
A/N: Hello again. Well my play's almost finished and school will be over soon, so hopefully that'll mean I'll have more time on my hands. Thanks to all of you who reviewed my last chapter: Dream Writer 4 Life and jhfortier. Please keep them coming for they are much appreciated. Also thanks as usual to my beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well, on with the next chapter. R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex
He couldn't sleep. At least not now: hundreds of feet above the ocean, surrounded by other agents, and eyes having to adjust to the dim light of the CIA plane. And soon to be ever closer to finding his daughter and wife that he yearned for. Vaughn wouldn't have been able to get some rest even if he wanted to.
Deciding to leave Weiss snoring gently in the seat next to him, he started to walk slowly down the aisle. He glanced at the other agents asleep around him; 10 good men - fully armed, fully briefed and ready for what was to come. But a small light near the front of the plane illuminated the spot where the only female sat. The most important agent out of them all.
The light shining above her guided Vaughn closer. He looked over the back of her seat, surprised that she didn't turn around like he expected her to. He watched in fascination as she continued to draw in a sketchpad that lay open on her lap. Her hand guided the pencil along the paper as fluidly as a dance's movements, leaving fine graphite lines trailing along behind. Her hand captured every detail of - what he realised then to be - a park in L.A. "It's an excellent drawing," He stated, causing her to jump.
Tanya slammed the pad shut as she spun to face him. Her eyes were wide, all systems on full alert. Her guard relaxed when she saw it was him. "Oh, so it is possible to scare a Ghost?" He smiled in mild amusement.
"Who said I was a Ghost?" She challenged him. "Who said they even existed?"
"I think your conversation with Trout confirmed that they do," He pointed out.
"Ah, but they were just words Agent Vaughn. Some words have more than one meaning. They may have even been metaphors. All you know for sure is that I work for MI6 and I am going to assassinate Irina Derevko." She smiled triumphantly when she realised that he didn't have a comeback. "But words and names can also be put there for irony or an inside joke," She added.
"Oh?"
"You know over in American your citizens call FBI agents Feds." He nodded and she carried on, "Well in England, MI5 agents are known as Spooks. It would be amusing if we had Ghosts as well."
Vaughn chuckled at this and sat down in the seat next to her. She intrigued him; the whole idea of the Ghosts intrigued him. Were the agents trained like another 'Project Christmas' or did MI6 just find them? Or did they find MI6? How were they chosen? And how could anyone choose to live such a life? He decided that he might as well make an attempt to quell his curiosity. "Can I have a look at that?" He asked indicating to her sketchpad.
"Why?" She questioned protectively. "Many people can draw, so it's nothing special."
"Yes, but many people aren't as talented as you."
She considered his request then handed the pad over. "Just remember, Agent Vaughn, flattery will get you nowhere."
"Then why are you letting me look?"
"Because you asked so nicely."
He returned her smile, then turned his attention to her sketchpad. He studied the drawings that filled it. Every one was a detailed picture of different locations around the world - some he recognised and some he didn't - but there were never any writing to say when or where it was drawn. "Are these all the place you've been to?"
Tanya paused for a moment as she thought over just how much she should reveal. Then she nodded. "I draw a picture of something important and significant to that nation every time I visit the country. I don't have a passport to remind me, so instead I have this."
Turning the page, he realised the next picture was of the river Thames in London and the Houses of Parliament beyond it. "Do you live in London?"
She paused again. Her whole life was made up of lies and secrets. She knew she had to be cautious with her answers. "Yes."
She paused then pointed to the picture on the opposite page. "This is Oxford Street," She informed him as he stared at the wide road surrounded by shops. "It's famous for being the place to shop. Every Christmas, thousands of people go there. They literally take up the whole road. You're basically shoulder-to-shoulder with the shopper next to you as you battle along. It's definitely an experience, one I think your daughter would love to have."
Vaughn turned to stare at her intensely. He hadn't mentioned anything about his personal life, let alone his daughter to her. She studied his expression then her face filled with an understanding look. "I got Trout to do a background check on you and Weiss. I know all about your daughter and wife, also what has happened to them. I'm surprised that the CIA are letting you head this operation seeing as you probably want revenge," Tanya commented.
Vaughn felt a spark of anger fill him and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "From what I gathered from yours and Trout's conversation, this is revenge for you as well," He snapped back. "So why is MI6 letting you come?"
Her soft expression remained on her face as she paused in thought. "I'm not meant to tell you this," She confessed, "but a year ago, Derevko found three of our agents in Iraq. Two men, codenamed Philostrate and Antony, and a woman, codenamed Cleopatra. The men were killed instantly, but Cleopatra was tortured for two days until she took her cyanide capsule, loyal to our country 'til the end. When you're a - belong to my section, your fellow agents are your family. They don't know your real name or background or history, but they know less lies then everyone else. It would have been revenge for any of us." Her smile had disappeared and she turned her sad eyes away from Vaughn's gaze.
"Then why do you do it?" He questioned. "Why did you choose this life?"
She turned back. "I lost someone. Someone I loved very much."
Vaughn suddenly remembered her conversation with Trout. How he told her not to turn the mission into a personal vendetta. Not to make it about 'him'. "Did Irina Derevko kill him?"
She didn't respond. Instead she took back her sketchpad and continued to work on her picture. Vaughn guessed that she'd decided that she had already revealed too much. He watched her again as she worked; questions about her still nagged at him but he ignored them.
A necklace fell out from Tanya's collar as she leaned forwards. It was a simple silver cross. "Is your codename an inside joke?" Vaughn inquired when he saw the necklace. Tanya gave him a puzzled look until he pointed at her cross. "Or is another part of your alias?"
She smiled faintly. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you that."
A thin smile graced his lips in return and he ran a tired hand through his hair. He let her complete her drawing - amazed by how detailed and realistic it was - then decided he better learn what intel she knew. "So who is this contact we're going to see?" He asked.
"He's not exactly a contact," She responded. "More of a lead."
She pulled down her table, placed her laptop on top and switched it on. After it had loaded up, she clicked on a file labelled 'Artic Fox'.
"This is Stephan Gaarder," She informed Vaughn, pointing to the picture of the man on the screen. "He's 32, was born in Norway and is a total sleazebag. He runs a strip club in, strangely enough, Archangel, but owns several warehouses near the port. One of our agents in the area took these photos." She clicked with the mouse and two new photos filled half the screen each. Both had Gaarder in, and the man in the one on the left Vaughn recognised instantly.
"Mr. Kyi," He muttered darkly. "Who's the woman?" He pointed to the second photo that showed Gaarder talking to a woman with blond hair.
"We're not sure. We're almost certain that she works for Derevko though."
"How are you planning to get information out of Gaarder?"
"Oh, I have my ways. Me and Stephan go way back, but he knows me under the alias of Alyssa Cain."
"So what, you're planning to bribe him?"
"Yes."
"With what?"
Tanya looked at him meeting his eyes. She held his gaze; her face was covered by a professional and ready look.
"With his life."
****
The faulty sign still struggled to flash the Russian words that translate into English as 'Girls, Girls, Girls!' - money in any language. Inside the strip joint a haze of smoke lingered in every corner, which made eyes stream after 40 minutes of exposure. Dim lights hid the customers' faces, but the bright stage lights showed off the girls as they caressed the pole, dancing sinuously to the music.
Stephan Gaarder sat back, relaxing in the VIP booth with a martini in his hand, watching his merchandise. He smiled as his eyes greedily watched his employees doing their job. One of his men walked over, bent down and whispered in his ear, "Sorry to bother you sir, but there's a pretty little thing in your office wanting a screen test."
Gaarder sighed as if it bothered him and threw his man a sinful smile. "It's so hard sometimes being in charge!"
His bouncer chuckled and Gaarder walked off towards his office grinning like a Cheshire cat. He walked through the door to be greeted by the top of a woman's ebony hair sitting in the chair in front of his, her back towards him.
"I hear you want to work here," He said to the girl in Russian. "Well you'll have to show me what you've got first, 'cause I've got to know if you're good enough."
"Well I was last time," the girl replied sweetly in English. The chair slowly spun round revealing long black hair with bright red tips, chocolate coloured eyes and wicked smile that Gaarder knew too well.
"Alyssa!" He yelped, trying to back away. But before he could reach the door, it was slammed shut behind him and two men grabbed his arms. He looked wildly at them both; the man on his right had blond hair and the other, brown - both of them gripped his arms securely, preventing his escape. He gulped and looked at the woman. "Hey Al-Alyssa. L-long time no see."
"You look surprised to see me Stephan. Didn't you expect me to return after you sent those men after me?" Tanya asked, her tone remaining friendly and innocent the whole time.
"I swear Alyssa, I didn't know that they wanted to hurt you. Honest," Gaarder lied trying his best to sound convincing, but failing miserably.
"And the fact that one of them ordered the others to 'kill the bitch' didn't give it away?"
He shrugged, his whole body shaking like a jelly. "I was born in Oslo, my Russian's never been that great."
In a split second: Tanya crossed over, grabbed him by the back of the neck, swung him around and slammed his head against the desk. He whimpered as she pressed his head down against the hard wood. "You know those men did teach me some interesting torture techniques though. Would you like me to demonstrate?" Tanya whispered harshly and applied more pressure.
"Please Alyssa," Gaarder begged, "I'll do anything."
"Anything?"
"Anything," He yelled and she lessened the force she was applying to his skull.
"What do you know about Irina Derevko's whereabouts?"
"Who?"
Tanya slammed his head violently back down and he howled in pain. "All right. All right. I admit I know who you mean," He confessed. "But I've gotten out of that business. I'm living a straight life now."
Vaughn and Weiss, the only other people there, let out bitter laughs in dismay and shook their heads in disgust - how could a man who ran a strip club be 'living a straight life'? It surprised Vaughn just how strong and aggressive Arch Angel could be. Her face was set in an expression he'd only every seen on Jack Bristow: free from all emotions, but dangerous and professional.
"You're wasting my time Stephan," She told him in a singsong voice. "And wasting my time means that your time is quickly running out. Stop messing me about. I have pictures of you doing business with Mr. Kyi and blond lady who works for Derevko. What have you been doing for her?"
"I let her store things she imports in my warehouse," He wailed. "Don't know what. It's not wise to ask. I just get paid every month when they collect it."
Tanya stopped forcing his cranium into the solid desk and relaxed her hand so he could raise his head a few centimetres. He gasped heavily, breathing in air desperately. His face was red from where Tanya's hand had been and where it had been squashed against the wood.
"Who's the blond lady that works for Irina?" Vaughn demanded.
"That's Natalya Arkov. She's Mr. Sark's maid. For some reason, I don't know why, he sometimes sends her here to pay me. Cute thing though; wouldn't blame him if he was getting some extra service on the side."
Tanya kicked him brutally in the back of the knees causing them to buckle and smack his head against the table again. Vaughn saw unexplainable anger burning in her eyes. "Stick to the point," She warned through clenched teeth.
"Okay. Okay."
"So where's Derevko?"
"I don't - AWWWW!" He screamed as Tanya squished his skull back into the table once more. " I can't tell you! She'll kill me!"
"And what do you think I'm about to do?"
"All right! ALL RIGHT! There's a map in my safe. The combination is 57-26- 84. I've marked on where her and Sark are."
Weiss crossed over to the safe and unlocked it. He pulled out a map and held it up for the others to see. "That's it," Gaarder cried.
"And it has the locations on it?" Tanya checked.
"Yes. I swear."
She let go of his head and he straightened up. He rubbed his sore head gingerly as he began to shake once more with panic. "Oh god! Irina's gonna kill me when she finds out. She gonna kill me! Oh god! Oh god!!"
"Don't worry Gaarder, we're going to have two CIA agents take you to a safe house and protect you there," Tanya informed him, addressing him in the same tone you would use on a three-year-old child.
"Yeah?" He repeated hopefully.
"Yeah," She mocked. "And if it turns out that you're lying to us, then they'll kill you instead."
Shock took over Gaarder's face and he open his mouth wide like a fish to speak, but before he could Tanya had hit him around the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.
She took the map from Weiss and unrolled it on the desk. "Lets just hope the little weasel's telling the truth," She mumbled as she inspected it with the others, "'Cause it's the only lead I've got."
A/n: What do you think? The only way I'm gonna know is by you telling me, so hit that button NOW!!! :o)