Author's Note: I figured I should mention that there is more of the Alias cast in this fiction; it's not all based around 'the new spy'. There is a lot of Syd & Vaughn action and other characters later one. It was just easiest to start this fiction this way.
Chapter One - How it starts
I awake to a horrid throbbing in my left temple, I try to move my hand to massage the pain, only to find that it has been secured in handcuffs. I sit in a stark white room, tied to a chair. I close my eyes try to deal with the pain. I shuffle my feet, they too are tied to the chair, it's not rope that holds them there, it's duct tape. The corners of my mouth curl upwards, do they really think duct tape is going to keep me in the chair. I sit back in the chair and quickly give my legs a quick kick, breaking right through the duct tape, my head swirls and I feel sick. I must have lost more blood then I thought.
I lay my head down onto the stainless steel table. The cool metallic surface doesn't do much for the pain, but the spinning in my head slows down. I lay there a few more moments trying to assess all the damage. There is just one major wound to the head, and a few cuts down my left arm.
Now on to the complicated matter, why only duct tape. It took three high-tech gadgets to even get into this building, so I'm not messing with amateurs. Plus. once they caught me in their system they sent fifteen armed guards after me, so they know I'm not an amateur. So why duct tape. I start to look around the room, one door, no windows, no cameras. No cameras that's odd. I shift my weight on to my feet and shimmy upwards sliding my hands up the back of the chair until they finally come over the back of the chair. I take a moment to gain my balance and listen for any noise outside the door. No noise. Something's not right.
I bend forward lowering my hands behind my back bring them as close as I can to my feet. I step backwards over the cuffs so that my hands are now in front of my body. I move towards the door and listen tentatively, still no sound. I reach for the door handle and open the door a crack. I peep through the crack, no guards. My stomach drops, this has to be a trap. I can't stay in this room my whole life though, so I take a deep breath and exit into the hall way. I survey the area, no cameras here either. I move down the hall tiptoeing to the exit sign, I keep looking behind be expecting someone to jump out and shoot, but they don't come.
I make it all the way to the big steal door and push my way through, sunlight floods my eyes. I look around at all the people walking up and down the sidewalks, paying no attention to me. They are all in business attire most talking on their cell phones. I understand what they say with ease. They are speaking English. I look around at the different office buildings trying to figure out where I am. Last that I remember I was still in Tripoli, Libya, this looks like downtown LA. I see a phone booth up ahead. I cross my arms and tilt my head down, trying to hide the handcuffs and the blood. I slip into the phone booth and close the door. I peer around to see if anyone is following me. No one seems to have even noticed me. I reach for the phone and awkwardly hold it between my ear and shoulder. I dial.
A monotone voice answers, "Dispatch."
"Yes, this is officer 1758933. Calling for connection, conformation doctor who."
"One moment." I hear three short rings, this time a voice filled with authority responds, "Officer Adurea?" I don't recognize the voice, they must have transferred me to a different office than the one in London.
"Yes, and who am I speaking with."
"I am Jack Bristow, the head of the LA division of the CIA. Do you know where the main office is here." My head spins, I must me in LA, but how did I get here, how long have I been in custody.
"Yes, but I don't know where I am."
"Our tracking says you are in downtown LA. If you go eight blocks south, and then two east you should be near our office. I'll have an agent waiting for you in the lobby." He hangs up and I'm left with a dial-tone and a million questions. I exit the phone booth and lower my head and cross my arms again and start walking south. I see a bank on the corner. There is a huge sign hanging from it, it reads 'First National Bank' under that it has the time, 2:09 pm; the temperature; 75 degrees Fahrenheit; and the date, September 9th. I've only been gone a day. A flood of relief rushes over me, but is quickly dampened by more questions. Where is Calvin, my partner. I reach the office building and walk inside. The lobby is empty except for a secretary sitting at a desk and a man in a suit. I walk over to the man, "Officer Adurea?" I nod.
Chapter One - How it starts
I awake to a horrid throbbing in my left temple, I try to move my hand to massage the pain, only to find that it has been secured in handcuffs. I sit in a stark white room, tied to a chair. I close my eyes try to deal with the pain. I shuffle my feet, they too are tied to the chair, it's not rope that holds them there, it's duct tape. The corners of my mouth curl upwards, do they really think duct tape is going to keep me in the chair. I sit back in the chair and quickly give my legs a quick kick, breaking right through the duct tape, my head swirls and I feel sick. I must have lost more blood then I thought.
I lay my head down onto the stainless steel table. The cool metallic surface doesn't do much for the pain, but the spinning in my head slows down. I lay there a few more moments trying to assess all the damage. There is just one major wound to the head, and a few cuts down my left arm.
Now on to the complicated matter, why only duct tape. It took three high-tech gadgets to even get into this building, so I'm not messing with amateurs. Plus. once they caught me in their system they sent fifteen armed guards after me, so they know I'm not an amateur. So why duct tape. I start to look around the room, one door, no windows, no cameras. No cameras that's odd. I shift my weight on to my feet and shimmy upwards sliding my hands up the back of the chair until they finally come over the back of the chair. I take a moment to gain my balance and listen for any noise outside the door. No noise. Something's not right.
I bend forward lowering my hands behind my back bring them as close as I can to my feet. I step backwards over the cuffs so that my hands are now in front of my body. I move towards the door and listen tentatively, still no sound. I reach for the door handle and open the door a crack. I peep through the crack, no guards. My stomach drops, this has to be a trap. I can't stay in this room my whole life though, so I take a deep breath and exit into the hall way. I survey the area, no cameras here either. I move down the hall tiptoeing to the exit sign, I keep looking behind be expecting someone to jump out and shoot, but they don't come.
I make it all the way to the big steal door and push my way through, sunlight floods my eyes. I look around at all the people walking up and down the sidewalks, paying no attention to me. They are all in business attire most talking on their cell phones. I understand what they say with ease. They are speaking English. I look around at the different office buildings trying to figure out where I am. Last that I remember I was still in Tripoli, Libya, this looks like downtown LA. I see a phone booth up ahead. I cross my arms and tilt my head down, trying to hide the handcuffs and the blood. I slip into the phone booth and close the door. I peer around to see if anyone is following me. No one seems to have even noticed me. I reach for the phone and awkwardly hold it between my ear and shoulder. I dial.
A monotone voice answers, "Dispatch."
"Yes, this is officer 1758933. Calling for connection, conformation doctor who."
"One moment." I hear three short rings, this time a voice filled with authority responds, "Officer Adurea?" I don't recognize the voice, they must have transferred me to a different office than the one in London.
"Yes, and who am I speaking with."
"I am Jack Bristow, the head of the LA division of the CIA. Do you know where the main office is here." My head spins, I must me in LA, but how did I get here, how long have I been in custody.
"Yes, but I don't know where I am."
"Our tracking says you are in downtown LA. If you go eight blocks south, and then two east you should be near our office. I'll have an agent waiting for you in the lobby." He hangs up and I'm left with a dial-tone and a million questions. I exit the phone booth and lower my head and cross my arms again and start walking south. I see a bank on the corner. There is a huge sign hanging from it, it reads 'First National Bank' under that it has the time, 2:09 pm; the temperature; 75 degrees Fahrenheit; and the date, September 9th. I've only been gone a day. A flood of relief rushes over me, but is quickly dampened by more questions. Where is Calvin, my partner. I reach the office building and walk inside. The lobby is empty except for a secretary sitting at a desk and a man in a suit. I walk over to the man, "Officer Adurea?" I nod.