Meeting
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, new chapter up, and more to come,
I hope you've all enjoyed the ride so far.
At this point, I've got quite a few ideas as to where I want this to go, and
how it can get there, but at the moment, its just choosing the best route is
the annoying thing.
Hope you enjoy this chapter, and keep reviewing (thanks a lot to Gabs)
- Spyder
Time frame:
None - Just generally set after Sydney becomes a double agent.
Sydney gasped.
It was him.
The man in the black trenchcoat.
Just standing there, hands in pockets, smiling at them.
Their collective minds raced, neither able to look away from him.
A large knot formed in Sydney's stomach, as her heart rate soared.
Why was he there? Why was he just standing there? Did he know why they were there? What was going on here?
Sark gulped audibly, before turning facing Sydney, eyes not moving off the figure in front of him. "I believe this may be cause of concern"
His words didn't register with Sydney, until he thrust the briefcase into her hand, as her hand reacted by taking it from him. The rest of her body didn't move.
Over her radio, all Sydney could hear was someone shouting her codename down the radio. 'Bluebird, what's going on? Do you read Bluebird?'
Sark was about to say something to Sydney, when the figure they were watching began to move.
The earpiece began spewing voices from the security section agents moving around, relaying information to their commander. 'Sniper one, no target' 'Sniper two, no target - damned tree's!' 'Can someone find out what the -'
His sentence never finished as static filled the air.
Watching intently, Sydney and Sark stared at the figure as he mechanically looked left and right, before raising a fist to shoulder height, then lowered it to his side.
Sark managed to turn away, looking at Sydney. "We have to leave"
he said, backing off a few steps, before he realised she wasn't moving.
He ran back and grabbed her arm, tugging slightly in the direction he was previously
going.
"What?" she said almost ethereally, not taking her eyes off the figure
in front of her.
Stepping in front of her, Sark looked back for a second, noticing that Sydney
was in shock, and did the only thing he could think of.
He squeezed her arm hard until she let out an 'ow'.
If looks could kill, when she looked down at him, he would have probably died in a rather horrible and most likely extremely painful way.
"We have to get out of here, now!" he said, pushing on her arm slightly, "Lets go!"
Finally, Sydney began moving, slowly backing off at first, before turning and walking which slowly became a half jog.
Behind them, neither saw as the man in the black trenchcoat pulled raised his fist once again to shoulder height, only to move it forward, palm outstretched, as he began to jog in their direction.
Onlookers would have wondered what he was doing, but to a select few in the park, the message was clear.
With Sark in the lead, the pair entered a very open section of the park, and quickly slowed to a walk, eyes darting all over, looking for possible threats.
As they passed a couple playing Frisbee with their dog, Sydney noticed a pair of figures jogging determinedly towards them.
They were both wearing the same clothes.
"Two on the right" she said, trying hard not to make it obvious that
she had seen them.
"We've got two on the left and" Sark flicked a glance over his shoulder
to look behind him "one coming from behind"
"I hope you've got an escape plan" Sydney asked concernedly, as the
five men edged closer.
"Lucky you that I do" he said, removing a pair of car keys from his
pocket, stepping up the pace a little.
The pair began to jog for the exit as Sydney felt something burn across her
hand, immediately dropping the case. Sark looked at her, and then at her hand
as a friction burn appeared above her knuckles, bleeding slightly.
Sydney slowed and ran back for the case, only to have the handle shot off as
she picked it up.
Someone didn't want her to have it.
"Leave it" Sark yelled to her "We've got copies of the data; we've got to get out of here!"
Disgruntled, Sydney left the case and ran back to keep up with Sark, looking over her shoulder at the case noticing that the man that was following them started to sprint towards them.
As they neared an exit to the park, Sydney briefly looked over her shoulder
at her pursuers who were now about 100 metres away, in full sprint towards them.
"If you've got a plan, now's the time to do something" she yelled,
as they hurriedly left the park, and crossed the street.
Dodging cars as they crossed, Sark pressed a button on his car keys, and the
grey BMW 5-series in front of them flashed its lights twice, just as he made
it to the driver's door.
Sydney barely made it into the passenger seat before Sark took off like a madman,
cutting up a taxi as he pulled out.
Looking out the back, Sydney couldn't see anyone following them, and let out a sigh.
"I take it you two know each other" Sark said, as he jumped a red
light.
"Wha?"
"The man back there, the one who was staring at us"
Sydney shook her head slightly. "Uh... yes, he was one of the people that
took the SD-6 team when we were in England"
"Ah right"
"What about you"
"I know him - He sabotaged a number of our operations in Europe and personally
assaulted me a few times. Whoever he is, he's very good. We've never been able
to catch him"
Sydney looked at Sark confused. "How long have you been looking for him?"
Sark didn't immediately answer as the entire vehicle swerved violently to the left, as he pulled down onto another street. Even though she was strapped in by her seat-belt Sydney grabbed the hand anchor above the door to keep her steady. Sark's driving could use improvement, she thought to herself.
"About ten years" Sark replied to her previous question. "But
he's been working against my employer for about fifteen years".
"And you've never been able to catch him?"
"Not once".
Sydney's eyes went wide in disbelief. She thought that she was pretty good, and she'd only been caught a handful of times, but from the start, whoever this person is, must have been very good to have not been caught at all.
"We've even hired assassins to kill him, who have failed every time. He seems to have gotten to them a lot faster than they could have gotten to him."
Sark stopped as he hit a red light, and immediately her earpiece stopped spewing static, and a single voice was heard '-bluebird, come in bluebird. Agent Bristow, I don't know if you can hear this, but they've gotten to everyone. I'm the only one alive, and if you're out there somewhere find somewhere to hide and stay there. If you can there's a flight leaving for LA- What the hell?! Who...' A pair of high pitched gunshots were heard and Sydney turned quickly towards Sark - he'd obviously not heard anything, then the static resumed.
The light went green, and Sark sped off, oblivious to the fact that Sydney had just heard a repeat of what happened in England.
In her mind, the emotional bank she'd built up was near bursting point and she knew that when it did, it would not be pretty.
She knew what to do.
Somewhere in London
Back in the office, the elderly gentleman sat in his chair leaning, watching the screen at the far end of his desk as it showed, live, the assault in New York happen.
They watched as the video feed switched to that coming from Commander Huntingdon, as he saw the pair run out of the park and towards the BMW parked on the opposite side of the street.
Picking up the case, his voice came clear over the speakers around the room.
"Command, I have the package, am returning to recovery point to await
pickup"
"Copy that Black Wraith" one of the support staff said "proceed
to recovery point bravo and await retrieval. Shadow team confirm tracking of
target vehicle"
"Command, Shadow One, tracking target signal to plus/minus four millimetres;
signal strength is clear at 9.4"
"Confirmed Shadow One. Command to all Ghosts. On mission end, proceed to
recovery points and await extraction - do not, repeat, Do Not wait around -
proceed straight to recovery points"
"Mute Radio chatter" the elderly man said, and the radio chatter died. Turning to face the rest of the people in the room, he steepled his hands as he spoke. "Comments?"
Everyone shook their heads. "None sir" one of them said.
"Good when will they arrive home?"
"Providing they all make it to the recovery points, under four hours"
one of the onlookers said
"Fine. Write up what reports you want to make, and add them to the system,
I'll review them when I have time. Dismissed"
Dutifully, the group stood up, and left, a few nodding in the direction of the
elderly man, who just sat in his seat, contemplating their next few moves, disturbed
by an expected telephone call.
"It's me"
"And?"
"The information is all there - it's not much, and it's all at least 30
years old, so it provides no immediate threat to us, but it should be dealt
with anyway"
"I concur, what are you going to do"
"Since you might want to read over some of the information, I'll bring
it back with me, and we can go from there"
"I understand, when will you be back?"
"In about 3 hours - we're just boarding Concorde now"
"Alright" he said, looking at the clock on the wall "see you
at nine"
The line went dead, and the elderly man leaned back in his chair, and slowly
drifted off to sleep.