The plane
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:
When I wrote this chapter, I tried to get as much feeling as I could into the psychological elements of this piece, working out how I would feel if I were in that situation and getting it all down on paper, and not just for the main characters.
I've tried to think up what each character might be going through and feeling at certain points in the story, but I won't spoil the suprise just yet.
To Gabs - To answer your question, you'll find out in the next chapter, so be patient; all good things come to those who wait.
Time frame:
None - Just generally set after Sydney becomes a double agent.
They arrived at the airport with less than 20 minutes to go before the plane left, and were rushed through customs when Vaughn showed his CIA ID card to the woman at the ticket office.
With only hand luggage with them, they were able to bypass everything par the usual metal detector and x-ray security scans, where they were held up when the customs officials found that Weiss still hadn't removed the handgun from his bag.
By the time they were finished with Customs, the group had less than 5 minutes to reach the plane before it took off, and ended up running nearly full pelt around the departures terminal, looking for the right gate.
Eventually, they found the right one, with less than a minute to spare.
Sweating profusely, and struggling for breath, they were escorted to their adjoining seats aboard the 747 getting the occasional insult and questionable look from other passengers, but none of that mattered to them.
They would be out of the country and on their way back to the US in no time.
Sydney let out a deep, deep sigh, as she sat back in her business class seat glad to have that little extra bit of leg-room.
Shutting her eyes momentarily, Sydney was asleep before the plane taxied to the runway.
She woke with a shudder as the plane passed through some turbulence.
Looking to her right, Sydney could see a slightly dazed Michael Vaughn groan a hello, while across the aisle; Weiss was reading one of the in-flight magazines, raising it slightly as a hello.
The dimmed cabin lights gave her a good idea of what time it was outside, helped by the fact that a cabin attendant walked up to Vaughn, smiling. "Good morning miss" she said rather more chirpily than Sydney would have preferred, but at that point, she didn't care "Can I get you a drink?"
Rubbing her eyes, Sydney held up a finger at the hostess, letting out a wide yawn before answering slightly sluggishly. "A bottle of water would be nice"
Noticing Vaughn stirring a little, Sydney elbowed him in the ribs, and he woke up with a jokingly cringing at the blow. "Drink?" she asked, smiling.
"Uh what?" Vaughn stuttered "Yeah sure, water thanks" he said, turning towards the radiantly smiling air hostess, almost scaring him.
Sydney very nearly snorted a laugh as she watched Vaughn jump slightly as he turned to face the hostess. From her seat, she could see Weiss pull a face at Vaughn, as he turned towards her and groggily asked "What?"
Sydney just giggled, still in a slightly sleepy haze, noticing Vaughn turn towards Weiss, who quickly resumed reading his magazine.
Vaughn turned back, still confused, but gave up, and fell back to sleep.
With nothing better to do, Sydney raised the blind to her window and looked out across the bright orange sunrise, reflecting the few clouds that could be seen, giving an almost spiritual aura to the scene.
Just staring out across the tranquil sky, Sydney slipped back to sleep.
The café. She was back at the café, walking up the pavement calmly to meet her friends, when they hit.
Sydney barely stirred as she watched in horror, as her partner dropped to the floor, only seconds before everyone just disappeared.
She watched in slow motion, as Dixon got up, hand raised facing her, just as he was hit, knocking him to the floor faster than a punch to the head, falling over his chair, and whacking the back of his head on the table behind as he fell.
Sydney opened her mouth to scream for Dixon, but no sound came out, and so she screamed louder without any effect.
Trying to move, she watched as Tong stood up to help Dixon, only to suffer the same fate less than a second after, but her feet were locked to the floor, and her muscles felt like lead - she couldn't move.
Emotions welled up inside her, and externally Sydney began to fidget slightly in her seat, waking Vaughn. In her mind, she was feeling the full force of everything as fear slowly became terror and her mind brought her back to the horrific incidents of earlier.
For what seemed like long minutes, she saw the scene over and over again in her mind, until she stopped thinking about the scene, and began wondering why her mind was showing her these images over and over again - but her mind was clouded with emotions and she found herself unable to concentrate for anything longer than a second.
To her, it was like being awash in a sea of emotions without anything to keep her either anchored down, let alone floating.
As she began to choke on emotions, she realised that she still had one last ditch effort to try.
Plucking up what remained of her strength and courage; she took a deep breath, and yelled as loud as she could for Vaughn. All that escaped was a muffled "Vaughn…", but it was enough for him to hear her call.
Looking over, he saw her squirm in her seat, and took a hold of her hand softly. "I'm here Syd" he said, rubbing his thumb over her soft, paling skin.
For her, it was all she needed - the second he touched her hand, she knew there was someone out there to catch her, and bit by bit, she slowed her breathing, and managed to recover slightly.
Inside her, the swirl of thoughts slowed in pace and she regained her focus.
Image by image still flashed passed her at an almost lightning speed, but she began to control it, blocking out the fear and horrors of loosing her friends, knowing that in the end it would all work out, and she would be happy.
After twenty minutes of struggling with herself, Sydney Bristow finally found herself back in the café, but this time completely able to move and look around at what was going on.
Each moment went by, and she scrutinised every detail she could - from the direction Dixon and Tong fell, to the movements of the plain clothed assailants, to the man in the black coat.
They were all perfectly choreographed - completely in synch with each other.
As Tong fell, the man in the black coat had his gun drawn and was in a firing stance and by the time that the last SD-6 agent had been felled, the plain clothed helpers were upon them.
Tactically, their plan was completely flawless, and totally audacious - an ambush set up in the middle of the day, in a completely open and highly visible area was not only risky to plan, but to pull off would require a considerable amount of skill, Sydney analysed. But from the looks of things, they'd done this before.
They were too smooth, too quick to be first timers, and there was something about them, almost an elegance about the assault, she thought to herself.
As her mind raced, she broke out into a slightly cold sweat, when she realised how capable they were, and how well trained they might be. Tactically, they were beyond anything SD-6 or any of its counter-parts could match, and in action, they seemed to be at least on par with some of the more senior SD agents
She began to worry.
Even in some asemblance of control over what was going on inside her head, Sydney still was unable to make out any of the faces, par one.
The man in the black trenchcoat.
Sydney stopped, and looked right at him, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
Then she realised.
As the plain clothed helpers were being bundled in the range rover, she noticed him looking right at her, his eyes sharp enough to be tearing a hole in her soul.
She shivered as the glare seemed to reach out and touch her somehow, chilling her to the core.
Even after finding out the truth about SD-6, and deciding that Arvin Sloane was one of the most disgustingly evil men on the planet, there was something about the man in the black coat that made Sloane shrivel in comparison - whether it was the hardened look to him, or the sheer determination to crush everything that showed in his eyes, Sydney couldn't tell, but she was scared.
She jolted awake with a shock; head in a cold sweat, heart thumping two beats a minute.
Vaughn was sitting next to her and looked across, immediately worried for her - she looked visibly shaken by something. "Oh my god Sydney, you look awful" he handed her a bottle of still cold water "have a drink, what's wrong?"
Bottle shaking in her hands as she raised it to her lips, she found herself unable to reply to his question.
The water washed over her dry lips like water on a dry river bed - she continued to quench her thirst, until there was nothing left in the bottle, but air.
Still not turning to face him, she tossed the bottle back to him, and then drew her legs up to her chest letting her head rest on her knee's, concentrating for a moment before letting him in on what she'd just thought up.
As her head rose from its perch, she planted her feet on the floor, mechanically turning her head towards him - both their eyes locking as she spoke. "Michael, I'm scared"