Clandestine Planning
Disclaimer:
I do not own Alias; ABC, Bad Robot Productions and JJ Abrams do, and I give
full acknowledgement of that (good work guys). I do not own and am not affiliated
in any way, with the brands mentioned in this piece (such as Ford, BWM or Colt),
more than likely I've used them because they're known, or because they're very
nice bits of kit that I hope to have one day. Finally, I'm a student, don't
sue me, I've got nothing worth taking.
Authors note:
Well, here's the sixth chapter, as I promised - I've been trying to do a chapter a day, both writing and uploading, which I don't think I'd be able to do, if I wasn't already a few chapters ahead.
All I can say is that I've got a few things planned to happen in later chapters; some more background on MI0, and some more Syd/Weiss banter.
Since I'm new to this, I've kinda come a bit stuck on some of the characters, so if anyone can tell me where I'm going wrong, and how I should change them, it'd be a great help.
Anyway, until tomorrow - Spyder
Time frame:
None - Just generally set after Sydney becomes a double agent.
As Sydney Bristow stepped out of the shower, she quickly wrapped a towel around herself, before cautiously opening the door to see if there was anyone around upstairs, finding no-one, but hearing the noises of a conversation going on down stairs.
Despite she was in a situation that she had wanted to be in for a long time, there were still certain things that she wasn't totally sure of, and this was one of them.
Leaving the relative safety of the bathroom, Sydney darted as quickly as she could, into her room, where, upon entry, she shut and locked the door, just in case. For some reason, as she moved down the hall, a strange feeling came over her, and was still tingling when she entered her room.
Sitting down on the bed, she smiled, biting her lower lip realising what that feeling was, remembering how good it felt. As she sat there, slowly drip drying, she heard her mothers voice echo through her head; "Remember honey" her mother had said "You can look, but don't touch".
Her mother had always said that whenever they went out shopping as a pair, when her father was away on business.
Between the mix of water dripping down her face, Sydney shed a single tear, wanting to give anything to be back there now; before her mother 'died', before her recruitment, before she found out the truth, and before the pain of wanting to love, but not being able to show it, had set in.
The moments ticked by, as she sat there on the edge of her bed, reminiscing of a past life, and dreaming of being able to act on her wanton need. She smiled, only to be interrupted by a sharp knock on the wooden door, a voice from the other side echoing slightly down the hall. "Syd? Are you alright in there?" It was Eric - he was probably wondering what was taking her so long. Looking at the clock, she realised he was right, she'd been sitting there for nearly 20 minutes.
"Uh, yeah, just getting my stuff together" she said, hoping that her feeble attempt at a lie would hold up.
"Ok, let us know if you need something" was the reply, not letting on to whether he believed her or not.
Quickly getting dried, and dressed, she walked down stairs a few minutes later, finding Eric back in the kitchen, talking on his mobile. He waved at her with his free hand, and then mouthed 'Devlin', pointing towards the phone. Nodding in response, she decided to get herself a drink.
By the time Eric had finished on the phone, Sydney had been watching him pull faces at the phone for nearly five minutes, nearly choking with laughter twice. Putting the phone in his pocket, he knew exactly what she wanted to ask.
"Vaughn had to go down to the US Embassy today, to deliver a parcel and pick up some gear that we'll need for the op"
It took a second for his words to hit her, "you mean you've got a plan?"
"Of course, we're the CIA, we've got plans for everything", she chuckled and shook her head, as he rummaged through a bag on the table, pulling out a small, padded envelope, and throwing it on the table.
"What's this?" she asked, curiously.
"That" he said pointing to the envelope with a coffee mug "is our plan."
"Our plan?" she said, hesitantly
"Our plan" was the confirmed answer.
She opened the envelope, and a load of paper fell out across the table.
"We really should wait for Vaughn to get back before we go through this. Since I'm an operations officer, I only know what I've been told, since he's your handler, he may know a few more bits that might be important" He spoke clinically, like he was back at work, which probably felt very strange for him. It felt like that for her.
"Ok, do you mind if I take a look anyway?"
His sentence never started, as a Digital ringing sound came from upstairs.
Weiss looked down at his phone, "Not mine and Vaughn took his with him"
Sydney's eyes went wide, and then ran as fast as she could upstairs, followed by Weiss, who was desperately trying not to spill his coffee.
As he reached the room, he found Sydney fumbling with her back, trying to dig something out of one of the pockets, only just managing to get it out, before it nearly slipped from her grasp.
She didn't take time to look at who was calling; she just answered it with a rather happy sounding "Hi"
The voice on the other end was not one she was expecting.
"Sydney, its Arvin, is this line secure?" His voice was concerned, but not rushed, speaking as clearly as he could.
She looked at the phone, and pressed #1470, and the phone bleeped its reply.
"Yes sir, the line is secured this end". The second she said 'sir' Weiss almost coughed up his coffee.
"Good, we've only just got communications back up, but we're not taking any chances, so I'll be brief. I've just spoken to Dixon and Tong, letting them know we've got communications back, and one of them will telephone you within the next two to three hours to reconfirm what I'm about to tell you"
She mouthed the name 'Sloane' towards Weiss, who just mouthed 'What the hell?' in reply, before nearly dropping his coffee, and grabbing a pen and paper for Sydney.
"Even though we've just got communications back, we're going to assume that somehow, whoever is out there is listening in on us at the moment, so Dixon and Tong have arranged to meet up with the rest of your team tomorrow morning at 11am, in the Café Noir, just off Oxford Street in London"
Sydney was rapidly scribbling down pieces of information, while Weiss was just watching in interest. In the background, he heard a car pull up, and walked quietly to the front door, to let Vaughn in, and let him know what was going on.
"When you reach the Café Noir, Dixon and Tong will brief the team on what the plan is, and you'll go from there. Are we clear?" His words were calculatedly harsh. He would definitely be under pressure to perform, so didn't want to leave anything to chance.
"Crystal, sir" was her standard reply, as she scribbled down some more notes on the paper.
"Good, until you speak with either Dixon or Tong, you are to keep this line clear, understand"
"Yes sir"
"Sydney, we're counting on you. Don't take any unnecessary risks, and come back safe" she could hear a tinge of concern in his voice, whether it was real or not was another matter.
"I will sir" she answered before the line went dead.
Finishing off her sentence, Sydney looked up, to see Weiss and Vaughn standing above her, looking almost as if they'd seen a ghost.
"I think we may have a problem" Vaughn said, his usual calming tone had vanished, and for a second, Sydney was very scared.
Somewhere in London
The elderly gentleman walked rather calmly towards his office. It had, so far, been a rather good day, and everything had gone better than expected, however as he walked into his office, that rapidly changed.
He was half way towards his desk, before a voice from behind piped up. "You know, you really should get better security here".
The elderly man stopped in his tracks, and was about to turn around and face the would-be intruder, as he heard the crisp crunch of someone taking a bit out of an apple.
"Good to see you Commander Huntingdon" he said, looking over his shoulder, before walking back over to his desk, and sitting down. "I see that even after three years of inactive service, you're skills have not dulled a bit"
As the elderly man looked at him, Commander Huntingdon stood up to attention, without saluting. In three years of not officially seeing him, the man hadn't changed a bit.
"Take a seat commander" the elderly man said, as he reached over for his phone.
Commander Huntingdon just sat back down on the leather sofa, apple in hand, just looking around the room, not really looking at anything, but scrutinising it all.
"Three?" he asked.
The man let out a small laugh. "Five"
"Ah" Huntingdon said, disappointed. "one in the light fitting over by the painting, one in the Ming Vase in the corner, and one in your Granddaughters photo"
"I'm glad to see that you're still very good at finding bugs" It was a standard joke between the pair. "Coffee?" he asked
"Yes sir, black please"
The elderly man pressed a button on his phone, and a woman's voice became audible.
"Can we have two black coffee's Mrs Appleby, one for myself, and one for Commander Huntingdon" he smiled, purposefully dropping the 'we' into the sentence, and then stating who they were for. He was certain that Commander Huntingdon wasn't seen as he walked in.
"Certainly sir", the line beeped off.
Neither spoke, as they waited for the coffee's to arrive, as neither wanted to be interrupted, so they sat there, in relative silence, Commander Huntingdon finishing his apple, and the elderly man looking at the painting on the far wall.
When Mrs Appleby arrived with the coffee's, she just smiled at the pair as she walked in, handing them their drinks before leaving graciously.
"Well?" Huntingdon asked as the door shut and locked with a pneumatic hiss.
The elderly gentleman took a sip of his coffee, clearly not wanting to rush anything. "Well commander, it appears that your services have once again to be called upon, but I hope you can keep your work and your feelings separate"
"I most certainly can sir"
"Good" he said, taking another sip of the steaming coffee. "Given that you're never under informed, I shall presume that you know of our operation into SD-9 the other day"
"You presume correct sir"
"Good, what do you know about the operation?"
"Only that two days ago, a platoon of assault troops managed to stealthily insert themselves into the headquarters of London based SD-9, a section of The Alliance of Twelve, where they than began tactically eliminating everyone in the building, as well as anyone inside UK borders affiliated with the group" Even though he was talking about a massacre, he could have very well been talking about the weather, given his emotionless tone.
The elderly gentleman didn't say anything; he just waited for the Commander to continue.
"Sir, I warned you four years ago of the alliance threat, and we knew then, that they were no match for us, so why has there been such a massive change in policy since then? Everyone here knows what happens when one of our own goes down. We take out the aggressors in a lightning fast strike, so when Leanne was killed, why didn't we react the same way?"
He looked down, saddened by what the Commander had had to say, and he knew how to respond.
"Office, grey mode" he announced to no-one in particular.
As the commander gave him a quizzical look, he realised what was being done. Slowly, the lighting in the room was shutting off, save for a trio of lights in the centre of the room, while the windows started to tint themselves, blocking out all external interference on any wavelength, from light to sound and everything in-between.
The office was being secured from bugs.
"Office in grey mode status" an electronic voice announced "Office is secure"
The elderly gentleman then began to brief the commander, and after nearly two hours of clandestine talks, the office finally returned to its normal condition with both men, in their own minds, began working out a plan of action.
Finally, commander Huntingdon broke the silence. "So what am I doing here?"
"You're job is simple." He said, matter-of-factly, "Since you are one of our wetworks specialists, you will have unrestricted access to the entire command structure during this operation. You can attach yourself to whichever squad you want to, and either be their point-man or be the commander, its down to you." He took a final look at his Granddaughters photo before continuing. "You will have complete control over every single unit, both internally and externally, working with whomever you need to."
The elderly gentleman looked up, looking slightly angry. "You will carry out my orders, to the letter, you report to no-one but me, clear?"
"Perfectly sir, what's my first mission?" Huntingdon asked.
"You, Mr Huntingdon, are going on a little snatch" he said, grinning as he passed over an envelope