Part 3.
The song is Mack the Knife by Bobby Darin
Oh the shark has such teeth, dear
And he shows them pearly white
Just a jack knife has old MacHeath, dear
And he keeps it out of sight
Sark walked through the gray underground parking lot. He didn't make a sound on the concrete and the air was completely still. If it wasn't for the occasional reflection that he saw in the darkened car windows, he would have thought himself a ghost. Perhaps it was because of how easily he managed to bypass the security. How easy it was to fool people. He was always amazed how people saw only what they wanted to see. He had passed a handful of people and the only disguise he wore was a set of dark sunglasses. Maybe they just assumed he would not have the courage to show himself in public. He smiled an amused smile to himself and tipped his head to a young lady walking by. She smiled a tentative smile back at him and then continued on her way. If only she understood the shark she had just smiled at.
***
Vaughn rubbed his eyes while gazing at his computer screen. He felt the beginnings of a horrendous headache coming on, but he was not about to stop. Someone had digitized Sloane's last message for him and he had been analyzing it for over a month. He froze the frame when it focused on Sydney. He didn't see her matted hair, or her vicious snarl. He was staring at her eyes. He would know these eyes anywhere, he had seen her hurt so many times, but there was also a blankness to them that he could not understand. He must have been staring at her face for while because he did not hear Kendall approach until he cleared his throat.
"You've been staring at that screen for half an hour now Agent Vaughn."
Vaughn turned and gave Kendall a stone-faced look while he flicked off his computer screen. He no longer feared Kendall and could match him look for look. He had Jack's memory to thank for that. He inclined his head at the Director to indicate that he should speak.
Kendall, who did not appreciate these changes in Vaughn narrowed his eyes at him and dropped a file folder on his lap. "This intel just came in. A suspicious package was received at the post office downtown. I need you to go check it out."
"You want me to go check out a package?" Vaughn asked angrily, his expression hard.
"Yes, I want you to check out a package. That's why I asked you to."
The two men stared at each other for a moment until finally Vaughn picked up the folder and stood up.
Kendall should have felt a small elation over his victory but one glance at Vaughn's face stopped him short. Vaughn's expression suggested that he was a waiting for Kendall to gloat so that he could be amused at Kendall's childish victory. Kendall did not want to amuse anyone least of all Vaughn, so he was forced to turned around and find someone else to bother. Vaughn let lips curl into a smile, but it did not touch his eyes.
Vaughn threw the file folder in the garbage, grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
When the shark bites with his teeth, dear
Scarlet billows start to spread
Fancy gloves though wears old MacHeath, dear
So there's never a trace of red
Sark waited patiently, his mind going over the recent changes to his plan as he adjusted his leather gloves. He was a patient man so the waiting did not bother him. It was not often that he had any time to himself these days. He was brought out of his reverie when Vaughn swung open the car door and got in. Like the flick of a switch Sark was back to the task at hand. He watched Vaughn slam the door shut without hesitation. He used the momentary distraction to ready his gun and point it at Vaughn's head. He saw Vaughn look up at his rearview mirror and they made eye contact for the first time in about a year.
The two men stared at each other for a moment. Sark saw Vaughn's jaw clench in anger but the silence continued. Sark put the pistol directly up against his head before reaching forward to take Vaughn's gun from his holster.
After he had disarmed him, Sark sat back in the seat. "Mr. Vaughn, I suggest that you drive us out of this parking lot to a nice, quiet place where we can have a discussion." Sark said in his typically calm, accented voice. He could see Vaughn pause for a moment, not taking his eyes off his mirror. Finally, Vaughn removed his own gloves and started the car.
On the sidewalk, Sunday morning
Lies a body oozing life
Someone's sneaking round the corner
Is that someone Mack the knife?
"Before you think to drive off a bridge or something equally foolish, please assume that I am intelligent enough to know that the information I have for you will guarantee that I will walk out of this alive. You may think that your life for mine is a worthwhile trade, however once you hear what I have to say you may not think so anymore."
Sark watched as Vaughn drove out of the garage and started driving away from downtown. After about ten minutes, Vaughn pulled into the receiving yard of a deserted old factory and stopped the car. Sark motioned for him to get out and move away from the vehicle. Vaughn complied silently.
Finally, Sark got out of the car and the two men stood face to face. He did not attempt to hide his visual examination of the CIA agent. "You look like hell Mr. Vaughn."
"What do you want with me you sick son of a--"
"Is it enough for you to have her back?" asked Sark quietly, interrupting him.
He watched Vaughn pause a moment to process what he had said and so he was caught of guard when suddenly Vaughn launched himself forward. Sark felt hands on his collar, a blade against his throat and he was roughly pushed up against the car.
"Where is she you bastard?"
Sark met Vaughn's stare dead on with a look that told him there would be no exchange of information until he let him go. Vaughn pondered for a moment if Sark's life was worth any information about Sydney but in reality there was only ever one answer. With a look of disgust, Vaughn released him and stepped back a few paces to allow him to regain his footing. After Sark had readjusted his suit jacket he pointed his gun back at Vaughn and indicated for him to drop his knife. Vaughn tossed the knife in the ground and waited for Sark to speak.
"She is in an old military compound located just outside Valencia, Spain. On the third floor is a prisoners block and she is in cell #31-232."
Vaughn digested what he had just heard and stared at Sark with suspicion. "Why are you telling me this now?"
This time it was Sark's turn to think. "Because we have courses that we've committed ourselves to, myself included. However, though someone may disagree with me I believe that having Sydney in our care is no longer in our best interest."
"So why didn't you just bring her back here yourself?"
"Because I'd like to remain in this world a little while longer, Mr. Vaughn."
"If you're trying to save the world, why didn't you just kill your partner and put an end to this madness?"
Sark wasn't sure if he was referring to Sydney or if by some chance Vaughn understood more than he was letting on. "I am not sorry that the United States of America has been brought to her knees. Your government was wise to stand down their missiles. However, my arrangements with Arvin Sloane are none of your concern. You can rest assured that you will not find him at the location I have told you about. He's abandoned this compound and he will have Sydney moved in less than a week. I suggest you work quickly."
From a tug boat by the river
A cement bag's dropping down
The cement's just for the weight, dear
Bet you Mack is back in town
Vaughn suddenly felt like a man drowning. He was being given the opportunity to save Sydney. He knew that air was within his grasp but he could feel the weight of the water bearing down on him. A week was not a long time.
"I hope you won't mind if I take your car though, I have some errands to run today and I can't afford to have you tagging along."
Sark threw Vaughn a pair of handcuffs.
"Put this on your right arm and secure the other side to the scaffolding over there." He pointed to a semi torn down section of wall.
Vaughn complied but his eyes hardly left him. Sark noticed that Vaughn's face had grown harder and sadder since the last time he had seen him. He had to stop himself from feeling a momentary sadness for CIA man but he shook his head; it didn't matter. It didn't matter to anyone whether he liked Vaughn or not, they were bound together in this bizarre twist of fate. He doubted that, even if circumstances had been different though, they could ever have been friends. They loved the same woman. And though it was infinitely more complicated for him, it still hurt that she had chosen Vaughn.
Sark took one last look at Vaughn and got back in the car. Friends or not, enemies or not, this was the only thing he could do.