"I am sorry," Sark said quietly, eyes not wavering from the road before them. Jack didn't need to ask why. They had exchanged no words that were not strictly necessary since the boy's ill-received comments on the plane several hours ago. "Please believe that I'm not trying to be difficult," he continued. "But you do need to accept the possibility that this disappearance could be of her own choosing. You need to be just as prepared for the chance that when I find her she might not want to come back, as you are for the chance that I discover she's dead or a prisoner. You need..."
"I know what I need," Jack snapped back at him. The car's interior suddenly seemed too small for both of them. "I need to know what happened to my daughter. You think I haven't considered the possibility that she has chosen to turn her back on this life? You think I don't realize how much doing this work has scarred her? That I didn't see how it was tearing her apart? I'm prepared to accept that she might not want to come back. I would even understand it." His voice dropped just as abruptly as it had risen. "I just need to know that she's all right," he said tiredly. "I just want to know what happened."
Sark nodded slowly. Jack noted absently that the only evidence of his surprise had been a sudden widening of his eyes at the beginning. Now the boy merely looked pensive.
"What will you do then?" Sark asked. "If we find that she doesn't want to come back?"
"Then I'll let her go."
"Just like that?"
"Yes." It would be the least he could do, he thought. After all he had already done. "But just because I've accepted the possibility," Jack added aloud. "It doesn't mean that's my prime theory. I still strongly believe that this was not her choice. We will assume that she has been abducted until firm evidence suggests otherwise."
"Of course."
Neither man voiced the fact that evidence of anything at all - no matter how flimsy - would be been more than they had now.
* * * *
The exchange had gone off without a hitch. Sark had been his usual charming self, his voice carrying easily to the parabolic LRLD. He was never out of Jack's sight as he handed over the research disks and confirmed the wire transfer without appearing to arouse the slightest suspicion in the Canadian buyer. The next step in his reintegration seemed to have been successful. Word would undoubtedly begin to circulate through the underground community that Mr. Sark had spent the past several months carving out his own free-agency niche independent of either Sloane or Derevko. Soon he would be able to begin asking questions of his own.
Despite the success of the mission, however, Sark's previous bright mood seemed to have evaporated by the time they returned to the airfield. He had lapsed into a sullen sort of silence that Jack felt could not be entirely explained by the prospect of returning to his cell. Casting his mind back over their earlier conversation, Jack eventually realized what was the most likely cause of the boy's current discontent.
Sark hadn't liked his answer. He hadn't like the possibility that Sydney might be given a choice that he was not allowed. Jack had long since surmised that there was little difference between the two of them - Sydney and Sark - in the boy's own eyes. In truth, Jack had to admit that if Sark had begun his career in the CIA instead of at Derevko's side there was little to distinguish him from any other agent employed by the American government. Viewing the situation from Sark's perspective, Jack could almost understand how unfair the boy surely saw it.
He was jolted from his musings by the movements of a guard. As the man approached Sark with a pair of handcuffs he realized that they must be nearly ready to land.
"Those really aren't necessary," Sark said irritably. "If I didn't make a break for it in Switzerland, why on earth would I try it in the middle of a California Air Force Base?"
"Protocol," the man said. "Don't make me do this the hard way."
Jack caught the flash of a wide reckless grin and a sudden obstinate flare in the boy's eyes.
"Stephen!"
Jack wasn't entirely certain which of them was more startled. The sharply parental warning had slipped out unconsciously and he had no idea why. Sark seemed just as stunned; whether by the use of his given name or by the implications of the tone itself, Jack couldn't begin to guess. The guard, unaware of precisely what had just occurred, snapped the handcuffs around Sark's wrists almost unnoticed. Jack noted with an odd detachment that the boy's expression had shifted from the brooding scowl he'd worn since leaving Geneva to a look of utter bemusement. He wondered if his own expression was comparable.
After a moment of wide-eyed staring Sark abruptly looked away. He did not glance up again even when they had landed, and he managed to avoid meeting Jack's gaze as he was led to surgery. By then his expression had shifted again - to an intensely thoughtful look. Jack would have given a large sum of money to know what was going on behind those troubled blue eyes.
* * * *
"I know what I need," Jack snapped back at him. The car's interior suddenly seemed too small for both of them. "I need to know what happened to my daughter. You think I haven't considered the possibility that she has chosen to turn her back on this life? You think I don't realize how much doing this work has scarred her? That I didn't see how it was tearing her apart? I'm prepared to accept that she might not want to come back. I would even understand it." His voice dropped just as abruptly as it had risen. "I just need to know that she's all right," he said tiredly. "I just want to know what happened."
Sark nodded slowly. Jack noted absently that the only evidence of his surprise had been a sudden widening of his eyes at the beginning. Now the boy merely looked pensive.
"What will you do then?" Sark asked. "If we find that she doesn't want to come back?"
"Then I'll let her go."
"Just like that?"
"Yes." It would be the least he could do, he thought. After all he had already done. "But just because I've accepted the possibility," Jack added aloud. "It doesn't mean that's my prime theory. I still strongly believe that this was not her choice. We will assume that she has been abducted until firm evidence suggests otherwise."
"Of course."
Neither man voiced the fact that evidence of anything at all - no matter how flimsy - would be been more than they had now.
* * * *
The exchange had gone off without a hitch. Sark had been his usual charming self, his voice carrying easily to the parabolic LRLD. He was never out of Jack's sight as he handed over the research disks and confirmed the wire transfer without appearing to arouse the slightest suspicion in the Canadian buyer. The next step in his reintegration seemed to have been successful. Word would undoubtedly begin to circulate through the underground community that Mr. Sark had spent the past several months carving out his own free-agency niche independent of either Sloane or Derevko. Soon he would be able to begin asking questions of his own.
Despite the success of the mission, however, Sark's previous bright mood seemed to have evaporated by the time they returned to the airfield. He had lapsed into a sullen sort of silence that Jack felt could not be entirely explained by the prospect of returning to his cell. Casting his mind back over their earlier conversation, Jack eventually realized what was the most likely cause of the boy's current discontent.
Sark hadn't liked his answer. He hadn't like the possibility that Sydney might be given a choice that he was not allowed. Jack had long since surmised that there was little difference between the two of them - Sydney and Sark - in the boy's own eyes. In truth, Jack had to admit that if Sark had begun his career in the CIA instead of at Derevko's side there was little to distinguish him from any other agent employed by the American government. Viewing the situation from Sark's perspective, Jack could almost understand how unfair the boy surely saw it.
He was jolted from his musings by the movements of a guard. As the man approached Sark with a pair of handcuffs he realized that they must be nearly ready to land.
"Those really aren't necessary," Sark said irritably. "If I didn't make a break for it in Switzerland, why on earth would I try it in the middle of a California Air Force Base?"
"Protocol," the man said. "Don't make me do this the hard way."
Jack caught the flash of a wide reckless grin and a sudden obstinate flare in the boy's eyes.
"Stephen!"
Jack wasn't entirely certain which of them was more startled. The sharply parental warning had slipped out unconsciously and he had no idea why. Sark seemed just as stunned; whether by the use of his given name or by the implications of the tone itself, Jack couldn't begin to guess. The guard, unaware of precisely what had just occurred, snapped the handcuffs around Sark's wrists almost unnoticed. Jack noted with an odd detachment that the boy's expression had shifted from the brooding scowl he'd worn since leaving Geneva to a look of utter bemusement. He wondered if his own expression was comparable.
After a moment of wide-eyed staring Sark abruptly looked away. He did not glance up again even when they had landed, and he managed to avoid meeting Jack's gaze as he was led to surgery. By then his expression had shifted again - to an intensely thoughtful look. Jack would have given a large sum of money to know what was going on behind those troubled blue eyes.
* * * *