Month 5 – A Circular Argument

Between missions and counter-missions, SD-6 and the CIA have certainly been keeping me busy for the last few months. They have been a great cure for my dilemma, but only in the sense that they don't let me dwell on it.

Sark has been in Argentina for the last month and a half so it's not like I've been confronted with the problem either.

After some prodding on my part to look further into the matter, the CIA was finally able to verify that at least one of the acts was not committed by Sark. They found surveillance of Sark at the same time that the robbery in Ireland was occurring. He was still in Switzerland in rehab. In fact, further investigation showed that he was in surgery at the time of the robbery, having the pins removed from his shattered ankle.

Even the CIA was able to acknowledge that he's good, but not that good.

As for who wanted to set him up, well the CIA doesn't really care about that, and they're tired of listening to me ask about it. In that sense, Sark has joined the topic of Haladaki's death; people accept that something weird is going on, but they don't want to pursue it.

I guess the CIA is just perfecting the ostrich avoidance technique.

So know I'm going to the only person I can think of to help me. My father.

I ring the doorbell to his apartment. I've hardly ever been here, but then again, my father and I haven't exactly been close.

My dad opens the door. He's still wearing his suit from work, though his tie is loosened. "Sydney!" he exclaims, obviously surprised to see me.

"Hi Dad."

"Is something wrong?"

It says so much that that would be the first question he asks his daughter when she comes to visit him. "No, I just wanted a chance to talk to you. I thought it would be easiest if I just came over."

My dad looks at me blankly for a moment before remembering that he's supposed to invite me in. He cautiously opens the door a little wider for me.

As I walk into his living room, I'm struck by how like my father it is. Everything is in its place. There's a drink on the coffee table, the newspaper is open and CNN is on in the background. The only thing to indicate that this is my father's residence and not his office at work is a small picture frame on a side table. It's a picture of me when I graduated high school.

I sit down on the edge of the couch.

"Um…Do you want anything to drink Sydney?"

"No, no thank-you." I pause. There's no easy way to talk to my father about this, so I decide to dive right in. "Dad, I just came here because I need your advice. Kendall doesn't want me to talk about it anymore, but I still need answers. You've been pretty silent on the issue. Do you think that what Sark told me is true? Do you think he's MI6?"

My father sits down on the sofa as well and looks at me. "Why is it so important for you to know one way or another? Why can't you just accept that his loyalties are irrelevant because they can't possibly be the same as yours?"

"It just is Dad. When we were stuck together in that sea container, I saw a side of him that I didn't think existed. Now I need to know if I can trust that judgment that I made, or if he was just playing me. I need to know for myself."

My dad looks away for a moment. I can't begin to guess if he knows the real reason why I'm asking.

"I don't want you to expose yourself to danger by risking trust in any person that doesn't have a vested interest in your safety."

"Dad, I just need to know if you think he could be telling the truth."

I hear my father sigh quietly. "I don't think so. He gave you a story that cannot possibly be verified in any way. I am sure that even being such a high level operative that he claims to be, the SIS would not leave him on his own. They would have given him some kind of fail-safe."

"Maybe the fail-safe doesn't include telling anyone that he is working for them. Maybe they intend to be the silent partner; what with the political ramifications of having him as an employee."

"Possibly, but it's doubtful. But then there is also the fact that from your reactions he seems eager for you to believe him. Why does he care? Why would he risk his cover?"

I can't answer that. Except for wanting me to lock out his codes when he thought he would be broken, I can give my father no reasons. At least none that I care to.

"If he was lying, he would have given you the exact story that he has. He would trust in your logic that you would see that he has nothing to gain by telling you his secret. If he has nothing to gain and everything to lose, then he is counting on you believing him. If he was telling you the truth, then he would realize that logic wouldn't be enough."

"He told me to look into my heart to believe him."

My father's eyes grow a little bit sharper. "Well if he's as smart as everyone thinks that he is, then that's the exact thing he would tell you. Especially if he believed that you would seek advice from me."

"But Dad, there isn't any way to win your argument. It's a circle. You can always claim that he's taken his plan one step further. I can say that he knew I would come to you, but that I would disagree with you and so I wouldn't take your advice. Does that make him a liar or not? I can't keep track of it all."

"Sydney, trust me. Just let this go. I realize that you don't have many people in your life that you can trust and that the idea of a hero residing inside of a villain might even seem a little romantic maybe, but it's not worth it. When this life is all said and done for you, a little loneliness can be cured. Death because you trusted someone you shouldn't have, cannot."

I stand up, angrily. I guess I should have expected as much from my father.

"You're not going to let his drop are you?"

I shake my head. My father sighs and stands up as well. He almost looks slightly older now.

"Sydney, before you go and do anything rash, let me see what I can do. I…I'm not promising anything, but there is one person that I can call. But it's out of official channels and even he might not be able to help."

I feel like hugging my father. "Thanks Dad."

He looks down awkwardly so I decide against it. I guess I will just have to be happy with baby steps where my father is concerned.