Ok, sorry this part took so long, I've just been so crazy busy. But here you go. Hopefully, I can get the remaining parts out in a timely fashion. If I had divided this story up into different 'books' the next part (Part 16) would represent the start of the last book. So we're getting there! (And pushing 60,000 words!)

Someone asked for a summary of how old the characters were after all these jumps into the future. So after this next jump (and it will be the last big one I promise) Dawn will be 20, Sark will be ~70-80 (but he looks about 25) and Irina will be ~ 70 (but looks like she did when she was 50 – ie. on the show). I hope that helps.

Remember, any comments are greatly appreciated. Just my eyes have looked this over, so please let me know if anything is wrong! Thanks!


Part 15b

I searched for form and land,

For years and years I roamed,

I gazed a gazley stare

At all the millions here

We must have died alone,

A long long time ago

My heir, the inheritor of my legacy and my would-be redeemer…My greatest prize… He will be a man once marked and yet also the man who will plunge the world into darkness. His very sign will extinguish the light of the world…

Weep, weep, weep young children for the ending of an age!

-Milo Rambaldi

Four years later.

Irina set her mug down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch. A small sigh managed to escape from her before her granddaughter entered the room and forced her to sit back up.

"Did you get a chance to look over those forms yet?" Dawn asked.

Irina sighed again and rubbed her eyes absentmindedly with the back of her hand. "Dawn why do you want to do this? There are so many great schools here in Europe…"

"Please don't start with this again." Dawn said quietly as she leaned against the wall in an exasperated manner. "I want to go school in the States! I want to pursue a graduate degree and the University of Columbia has the best music department there is. I don't know why this is such a problem! Both you and my mother did your graduate degrees."

Irina stood up and crossed her hands in front of her. She was getting too old for this. "You don't know why it's a problem? The fact that your family is wanted by the US government isn't a big enough problem? And please don't say that you haven't done anything wrong. I know that. But they will find you. Are you prepared to be found guilty by association? They will interrogate you. They will treat you like a criminal because of nothing more than whom your parents were. Your father spent his life trying to ensure your safety without making you sacrifice anything. Now you want to move into the lion's den?"

"My father never asked me if I was willing to take his sacrifice so that I wouldn't have to give anything up. Now it doesn't matter because look where it got him!"

"Dawn!" Irina shouted but her granddaughter had spun around and exited the room. Irina followed her up to her bedroom where she found her sprawled on her bed sobbing.

Irina sat down next to her and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Dawn, your father loved you very much."

Dawn continued sobbing. To be honest, Irina had seen this fight brewing. There was only so much internalization that someone could do before everything burst forth from them. Dawn had been effected by her father's death in ways not obvious to everyone. She had always been a quiet girl, but when Irina had gone to visit her at the boarding school to tell her that her father was dead, Irina had seen her internalize all her feelings. Irina had seen the shock and loneliness filling her eyes but Dawn had shrugged off her attempts to comfort her. Irina had even seen the look of guilt flash briefly across her face but Dawn had refused to talk about it with her.

Irina had accepted the rebuff. She knew that some griefs need to be understood first, before they could be shared. But as far as she knew, Dawn hadn't shared them with anyone. And then last year Dawn had started expressing her desire to travel to the States.

Irina had always found ways to avoid the topic but finally, yesterday, Dawn had dropped the admittance forms on her lap, almost all filled out.

Finally Dawn lifted her head and spoke; her words blurred by her tears. "It's my fault that he died."

Irina swept a stray lock of hair from Dawn's face. "No, it isn't sweetie." Irina replied firmly. "Your father was shot and I know for a fact that you didn't pull the trigger."

Dawn shrugged her shoulders. "I know Baba, but I saw him when I came home to visit a few months before. I was telling him about the ski trip I went on over Christmas vacation and I could see the look on his face. When I told him how Amy and I visited her parents for Christmas dinner I could tell something was wrong. He looked like he was happy for me, but he wasn't really. I could see the sadness in his eyes. I was showing him that I didn't need him anymore. Maybe he would have fought harder against the man who killed him, if he thought I still needed him!" Dawn paused a moment contemplating her guilt. "I know my Dad. I know that he could have done anything if he wanted to badly enough. "

Irina sighed. Her granddaughter was a tad too perceptive for her own good sometimes. "Dawn, you can't carry around this unfounded guilt. It's not your fault. As for your father's desire to live, to be honest, I think that he lost something from his soul the moment your mother died. I think he was just tired of being separated from her. But I know he loved you very much. I promise. Trust me, no man could argue that much with me unless he was doing it for someone he loved very much!"

Dawn cracked a smile at her grandmother's last statement. She'd seen or heard many of their arguments and her father had won every single one of them. Dawn understood how impressive that was. She had seen many people argue with her grandmother over the years, but her father was the only one that had EVER won. "It's just that I'm tired of being bound by something that started before I was even born. It's over now and I need to move on from it. Amy sent in her application for Columbia two weeks ago and I know she's going to get accepted. I want to go too. I want to get away from all this."

Irina nodded in understanding and sighed. It appeared there was little she could do to change Dawn's mind now but if she was honest with herself, she didn't really want to try. The truth of the matter was that she was getting tired of it all as well and the idea of breaking free, regardless of the consequences held a certain appeal. Irina smiled softly at her granddaughter. "Finish filling out your application, and we'll look it over in the morning ok?"

Dawn nodded gratefully and threw her arms around her grandmother. "Thank-you Baba."

Irina returned the hug and then got up off the bed. After saying her goodnights Irina made her way downstairs. There was still much to be done if her granddaughter really was going to move to the States. Irina sighed. Though Dawn was anxious to remove the chains that bound her, Irina knew that reality wouldn't be as forgiving. As she descended the stairs, Irina's mind ran through all the assets that could help her and the favors that were owed to her. It would require some doing but she could manage it.

***

Irina picked up her mug that she had left in the living room and felt the sides of it. She decided that it was still warm enough to drink so she held the mug in her hands while she walked into Vaughn's old study.

She had left almost everything the way it was since his death. Though she had fought him tooth and nail on almost everything, in the end, she had just left things the way they were. Well, almost. She'd had the carpet replaced with an identical one and the blood cleaned off the room. Though she had been bound to tell the truth to his daughter, she felt no need to describe in detail the circumstances of his death. Wasn't it enough that he was dead and he had left her here alone?

She sighed as she sat down on the leather chair and took a sip of her coffee. And now Dawn wanted to move to the US to go to school. Irina had no doubt that Dawn would be able to fit in, she always did and Irina knew that after she called in a few of her favors, she would even be relatively safe.

But what about herself? Irina knew that though she looked no older than she did twenty years ago, she was getting too old to start over again. How many lives could one person be expected to live? And perhaps that was the reason why she had been so against Dawn moving away; Dawn was trying to remove the shackles that bound her as well.

Irina set down her mug and pulled out a small leather journal from a drawer. Vaughn had insisted that Dawn be told the truth about everything and for the most part she had obeyed. But on some level Irina wondered if it was enough. So, like she had done everyday for the last twenty years, Irina wrote down a few words in her journal. She described her plan and what she had to do and why.

Though she was absorbed in her writing and laments about how old she was getting, Irina had not lost the instincts that had kept her alive for so long. She noticed the door opening slowly but she mistakenly thought it was her granddaughter. It was so that she lost the opportunity to break-free from the shackles forever.

Sark casually walked in and shut the door behind him, never taking his eyes off of his old employer. Irina made to reach for her gun, tucked away under the desk but Sark motioned for her to stop. He already had his weapon drawn and pointed at her.

"Don't bother Irina, it's too late for that now, anyway."

Irina stopped her motion towards the gun, all the while never taking her eyes off of her old employee.

Irina skipped the irrelevant questions of 'How did you get in here' or 'How did you find me' and went directly to the point. "What are you doing here Sark?"

Sark shrugged his shoulders but the expression on his face told her that he had a purpose. He hadn't waited twenty years to show himself for nothing.

Finally he spoke. "I suppose we do have much to discuss Irina, but mostly I just want to know why you like everyone else, betrayed me?"

Irina sighed again for like the millionth time that night. "I didn't betray you Sark." She stated simply. As the silence settled, Irina knew that he didn't accept her answer. "We had an agreement. We both wanted Rambaldi's legacy destroyed. You of all people should know why I went to the CIA, there was nothing else for me to do except what I could, to help my daughter. You're the one that infiltrated Sloane's organization. You're the one that had the opportunity to destroy all his works! Instead went along with his schemes and did the very opposite. You're the one that betrayed me Sark."

Sark stood firmly in front of her. "I haven't changed Irina. I joined Sloane so that I could accomplish my mission. Weren't you the one that taught me to keep my enemies closer than my lovers? I still want to destroy my grandfather's work. He sentenced me to this life and for that I can never forgive him. He bound me up in his prophecies like a pawn. But I will be no one's pawn anymore. I trusted you. You freed me from my hell, locked away in an attic, you trained me and showed me the way to destroy the prophecy, but you lied to me. You treated me like a little pawn yourself. You kept the key to all his works to yourself. Did you really think that I wouldn't find out about the other prophecies? Or did you just not trust me like everyone else, because I'm supposed to be the Doom-Bringer? Is that it? That with one hand you nurtured me while with the other you controlled me?"

"It wasn't like that--"

"Then how was it?" Sark interrupted. "You knew the answer to our riddle all along. When we were building the red ball battery in Taipei you told me it was to find the people that could provide the correct antibodies for the power source. Why didn't you tell me that you already knew who the correct person was? Why did you lie to me and tell me that we could use this weapon against Sloane?" Sark paused in his tirade for a moment to regain his composure.

Irina used the break to interject. "Yes, I knew of one person who could provide the antibody but he was dead. I didn't know that his son would look so much like him. I didn't think he could be the one in the prophecy instead. But I had to make sure, I had to make sure that no one else could produce the correct antibodies. And I did trust you. That's why I send Sydney to the facility to get the antidote. But you took that information and you sold it to Sloane. You thought you could control Sloane like I was supposedly controlling you? Is that why you helped him assemble his arsenal? Is that why you helped him kill millions of people?"

"Millions of people were going to die anyways, at least I helped to limit it a little."

"You killed Jack."

"I saved Jack."

"No you didn't." Irina spat out. "He's dead. Just like everyone else."

"Yes. But like everyone else he was going to die. I did the only thing I could do."

Sark looked at Irina wearily and she returned the tired look. "There's nothing left to be done." Irina stated. "Why show up now? It's over. Let us pick up the pieces of our lives and move on."

"I can't do that Irina because it's not over yet. We are still bound by the fate that has enslaved us all."

"What more do you want Sark?"

Sark leaned on the desk and sat on the edge. "Only that which I never had."

Irina looked at him skeptically and rubbed her forehead to ease the ache that was starting to develop. "It's over Sark. Let it go."

Sark looked at his watch. "It's not over Irina. But it is for you. I put something called Dark Sap in your coffee while you were upstairs. It's a moderately quick acting poison but it is fatal. This is only an approximation but I'm guessing that you have about ten more minutes to live."

Irina stood up quickly knocking her coffee mug to the ground. The mug tumbled and bounced on the carpet spraying the remains of the coffee everywhere, staining the carpet once again.

Unfortunately her quick ascent caused her head to spin and she had to brace herself against the desk. "…Why Sark?…"

Sark looked at his old boss with a touch of sympathy. "Because though all of you have set the stage, this last part must be played out only by us of the third generation. It must come down to the grandchildren."

"No…" Irina wailed quietly, thought not at her approaching death. "Leave Dawn alone. I beg of you leave her alone!"

Sark hung his head with regret. "Don't worry Irina, she will have the upper hand."

Sark stood up and walked towards the door. "I will give you a few moments alone. Do what you need to. But you don't have to worry about scarring poor Dawn. There will be no mess to clean up. I made sure that the poison mimics the physiology of a heart attack."

Irina watched Sark close the door and she looked around the room. The thought of dying didn't really scare her, she had been dying a little piece at a time for the last fifty years of her life. And except for the cold sweat that had just broken out on her brow she felt a slight aura of peace.

She debated what, if anything could be done with her last minutes. She decided against seeing Dawn again. The last thing her granddaughter needed was to see her keel over in front of her. Calling for help was out of the question; she could already feel the poison working its way through her veins. Would it be better for Dawn to think that she died of natural causes or that she was murdered? Irina knew the answer to that and it seemed kind of fitting that she who had carried death's secrets around with her should bring one more with her, to her grave.

But there was one thing she wanted to do. She opened up her journal again and transcribed her last thoughts. Then she pulled out an envelope and slid the journal inside. She sealed the envelope and scribbled an address on the outside.

As she stood up, she could feel a sharp pain travelling up her arm and she couldn't help the small whimper that escaped her mouth. But it wasn't the pain that had made her whimper, it was the fact that she had dropped the envelope. She braced herself against the desk to lean over to pick it up.

Sark must have heard her strangled cry because he reentered the room and shut the door. They stared at each other for a few minutes until Sark finally broke the silence. "Though this was of my own doing, I am trying to make amends in the only way I can--"

Irina tossed the envelope to him. "You want to make amends you bastard, then mail this for me."

Sark looked at the label and nodded. Then Irina clutched at the side of the desk as pain exploded in her chest and Sark removed the small silver flute from his jacket pocket.

***

Dawn sat at her desk filling out the last page of her application. She was signing her name on the form when she heard the quiet sounds of a flute playing somewhere in the house. She paused in confusion, she could not imagine her grandmother picking up any of her instruments even if she had left them lying around. Dawn listened to the notes as they resonated through the house and she was suddenly overcome with sensation.

It seemed that for as long as she could remember she had searched for a tune that had constantly sounded just outside of her reach. She remembered that when she was younger and she had taken ballet, she had sought to capture the music within her while she danced. She had practiced ballet for years because of this. Finally she had decided that it was the music more than the dance that she craved and so she had begged her father to sign her up for piano lessons. From there she had moved on to wind instruments and then to brass. All the while, she had sought to capture a tune that rang in her head like a forgotten memory.

Dawn sat mesmerized in her chair as she listened to this tune. It was achingly beautiful and parts seemed painfully familiar to her, but she was too caught up in it to question where it was coming from. It was only after the music reached its crescendo and faded off into the quiet did she come about to question where it could be coming from.

As the awareness came back to her, Dawn bolted up from her chair and knocked it over in the process as she raced out of the room. She raced down the stairs, taking two at a time and jumping the last few.

Dawn raced around but it didn't take long for her to cover the main floor until all that was left was the study. Without pausing to think, Dawn raced to her father's old study and threw open the door.

There was a moment of shock as she stared at the motionless body of her grandmother. It was a moment that seemed to last an eternity as the numbness spread throughout her body. She couldn't have told anyone how she made it to her grandmother's side because she had believed that her feet were firmly planted on the ground. Suddenly though, she found herself kneeling at her grandmother's side.

Dawn stared at her grandmother in shock and horror and realized that she didn't know what to do. She touched her grandmother's cheek and it was so very cold that she immediately pulled her hand away. Her grandmother was dead.

Dawn felt panic rising in her chest as she looked around the study. The numbness and panic pushing her sorrow away for the moment as she looked about. Who could help her? Who was she supposed to call? What she was supposed to do? It was only when she realized that she didn't have the answers to any of her questions that she realized for the first time that she was now truly alone in the world.

***

Sark watched from outside the window as Dawn collapsed onto Irina's chest and started sobbing. He had seen the look on her face as she realized that she was alone and he felt his heart twisting within his chest to know that he was in some part responsible for her anguish. His shoulders sagged as he turned around to leave. It was hard to leave her because he knew vividly how she felt, but now was not the time. They would meet soon, to play out the last bit of this legacy, but not yet. He still had things to do.

Who knows,

Not me

We never lost control

You're face to face

With the man who sold the world