Jack awoke from the sedative that Sloane's men had administered to find
himself in what appeared to be a small private hospital. He was
unsurprised to see that he had been handcuffed to the bed in which he was
lying and waited, with rising impatience, for Sloane. Doubts assailed him;
he closed his eyes and tried to forget just how very vulnerable he was if
Sloane chose this moment to end their 'friendship'.
"It's good to see you again, Jack," came Sloane's satisfied voice. Jack's eyes opened to see Sloane standing in the doorway, flanked by guards.
"Where's Sydney?" Jack growled, not in the mood for polite conversation.
Sloane studied him for a moment before answering. Jack had taken the bait as anticipated, he thought. One of the CIA's most dangerous, field-savvy agents, and he was lying helplessly on the bed in front of him. Really, he was frighteningly easy to predict. "Free him." Sloane gestured to one of the guards to unlock Jack's handcuffs, and he sat up, massaging his wrists. "Follow me," he ordered.
Without another word, Sloane turned and walked out of the room. Apprehensive, Jack followed him down the hallway, then turned into another room. A room, Jack knew immediately, with only one purpose. To keep Sydney alive.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his daughter laying unconscious on her hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, tubes streaming out of her body. He felt as if his heart had stopped. "Sydney?' he whispered. He staggered closer and reached out to touch her lifeless hand. "Sydney?" he said louder, willing her to respond, willing her eyes to open. The only sound in return was the soft and regular "whoosh" of her ventilator.
Blind rage filled him, and he wheeled towards Sloane. "You son-of-a- b*tch!" he roared. "What have you done?" Heedless of the guards, Jack lunged at Sloane, reaching for his throat.
It took 4 guards to pull Jack off Sloane. One of them raised his gun, intending to club Jack senseless, but Sloane waved him off. "A 'thank you' might have been more appropriate," he said dryly, straightening his tie. "She would be dead now if it hadn't been for me."
"Dead?" repeated Jack incredulously, jerking free from the guards, who watched him warily.
"Dead. We were, er, in the neighborhood, and found Sydney unconscious. She had a subdural hematoma - which was putting pressure on her brain - that would have killed her had it been left untreated another 30 minutes."
"You just happened to be in the neighborhood.with a full medical team?"
"Our asset called for assistance before she passed out."
"Your asset?" repeated Jack, increasingly confused.
"Francie's clone."
Francie's clone. Sydney's best friend, casually murdered as a convenience to Sloane. Another travesty Jack had failed to anticipate, failed to prevent. Jack's fists clenched again.
"Sydney's in a coma, Jack," Sloane said patiently, oblivious to Jack's reaction. "Believe it or not, I'm doing everything possible. I've been caring for her as if she were my own child."
"She. is. not. your. child." said Jack between clenched teeth.
"Fine," Sloane said with exasperation. "Talk to the doctors yourself," and he left the room.
Several hours later Jack emerged. He had talked to the medical team that Sloane had managed to assemble on short notice. He had looked at the brain scan, which showed multiple blows to her head over the course of a week, the cumulative effect of which had been devastating. He had been told that she could wake up tomorrow, or in 3 months, or in 3 years. He had read her chart. He had held Sydney's hand. He had run out of ideas.
"I want to take Sydney with me," said Jack abruptly.
Sloane politely raised an eyebrow.
Jack bristled. "You said she wasn't going to be a pawn."
"And she won't be. Can I ask how you plan to care for her?" asked Sloane.
"No you can't," snapped Jack.
"Oh? Win the lottery lately?" asked Sloane mildly. "Do you have any idea what it will cost to provide her with the round-the-clock medical care it will take to provide a chance of full recovery?"
"The CIA-,"
"-will provide an adequate standard of care. She'll be placed in a VA nursing home after a month, in a ward with 20 other patients. She'll be there for the rest of her life."
Jack's lips were pressed tightly together. Anything was better than leaving her with Sloane.
"However, I won't stop you if you'd like to take her with you. All I ask is that you do one thing first."
"What?" asked Jack with foreboding.
Sloane gazed pensively at Jack. Time to start reeling him in. "I want you to look at the future," he replied.
"It's good to see you again, Jack," came Sloane's satisfied voice. Jack's eyes opened to see Sloane standing in the doorway, flanked by guards.
"Where's Sydney?" Jack growled, not in the mood for polite conversation.
Sloane studied him for a moment before answering. Jack had taken the bait as anticipated, he thought. One of the CIA's most dangerous, field-savvy agents, and he was lying helplessly on the bed in front of him. Really, he was frighteningly easy to predict. "Free him." Sloane gestured to one of the guards to unlock Jack's handcuffs, and he sat up, massaging his wrists. "Follow me," he ordered.
Without another word, Sloane turned and walked out of the room. Apprehensive, Jack followed him down the hallway, then turned into another room. A room, Jack knew immediately, with only one purpose. To keep Sydney alive.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his daughter laying unconscious on her hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, tubes streaming out of her body. He felt as if his heart had stopped. "Sydney?' he whispered. He staggered closer and reached out to touch her lifeless hand. "Sydney?" he said louder, willing her to respond, willing her eyes to open. The only sound in return was the soft and regular "whoosh" of her ventilator.
Blind rage filled him, and he wheeled towards Sloane. "You son-of-a- b*tch!" he roared. "What have you done?" Heedless of the guards, Jack lunged at Sloane, reaching for his throat.
It took 4 guards to pull Jack off Sloane. One of them raised his gun, intending to club Jack senseless, but Sloane waved him off. "A 'thank you' might have been more appropriate," he said dryly, straightening his tie. "She would be dead now if it hadn't been for me."
"Dead?" repeated Jack incredulously, jerking free from the guards, who watched him warily.
"Dead. We were, er, in the neighborhood, and found Sydney unconscious. She had a subdural hematoma - which was putting pressure on her brain - that would have killed her had it been left untreated another 30 minutes."
"You just happened to be in the neighborhood.with a full medical team?"
"Our asset called for assistance before she passed out."
"Your asset?" repeated Jack, increasingly confused.
"Francie's clone."
Francie's clone. Sydney's best friend, casually murdered as a convenience to Sloane. Another travesty Jack had failed to anticipate, failed to prevent. Jack's fists clenched again.
"Sydney's in a coma, Jack," Sloane said patiently, oblivious to Jack's reaction. "Believe it or not, I'm doing everything possible. I've been caring for her as if she were my own child."
"She. is. not. your. child." said Jack between clenched teeth.
"Fine," Sloane said with exasperation. "Talk to the doctors yourself," and he left the room.
Several hours later Jack emerged. He had talked to the medical team that Sloane had managed to assemble on short notice. He had looked at the brain scan, which showed multiple blows to her head over the course of a week, the cumulative effect of which had been devastating. He had been told that she could wake up tomorrow, or in 3 months, or in 3 years. He had read her chart. He had held Sydney's hand. He had run out of ideas.
"I want to take Sydney with me," said Jack abruptly.
Sloane politely raised an eyebrow.
Jack bristled. "You said she wasn't going to be a pawn."
"And she won't be. Can I ask how you plan to care for her?" asked Sloane.
"No you can't," snapped Jack.
"Oh? Win the lottery lately?" asked Sloane mildly. "Do you have any idea what it will cost to provide her with the round-the-clock medical care it will take to provide a chance of full recovery?"
"The CIA-,"
"-will provide an adequate standard of care. She'll be placed in a VA nursing home after a month, in a ward with 20 other patients. She'll be there for the rest of her life."
Jack's lips were pressed tightly together. Anything was better than leaving her with Sloane.
"However, I won't stop you if you'd like to take her with you. All I ask is that you do one thing first."
"What?" asked Jack with foreboding.
Sloane gazed pensively at Jack. Time to start reeling him in. "I want you to look at the future," he replied.