***
Chapter 5
***
Los Angeles, California
Saturday, 7:04 PM PST
The picture from the television was the only illumination in the darkened room, and the volume was so low it made the passing conversation on screen inaudible. The person sitting in front of it stared blankly at the picture flickering by. He didn't care about the program that was on - he never watched TV anyway - but at the very least it was something to distract him, however trivial. He had only one thought repeating in his brain. Why hadn't he been called yet?
As though through sheer force of will, his cell phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table, began to ring. He answered it before it could sound again, "Jack Bristow."
"It's Vaughn, checking in."
"Agent Vaughn, you were supposed to call me the moment Sydney was secure in the safe house."
"I realize that, sir, but there's been a development."
"What kind of development?"
"Sydney decided to take matters into her own hands, so to speak."
"What are you talking about? Are you with my daughter?"
"No."
"Then where is she?"
"As far as I know somewhere in West Virginia. The thing is, though, she was supposed to check in more than an hour ago but she hasn't been answering her phone. I don't know where she is."
***
Highway 77
Saturday, 10:36 PM EST
The two figures drove silently past a rundown roadside motel whose neon sign flashed 'no vacancies' every few seconds. The single car in the parking lot would seem to say otherwise.
"We're lost," Josh declared.
"We're not lost."
"Where are we then?" Josh asked, glaring over at Sam in the passenger seat.
"I don't know."
"That means we're lost."
"No," Sam insisted. "We're following the map. Look, there's a sign," Sam paused to read. "'Now entering Ohio.'"
Josh ripped the map out of Sam's hands before repeating, "We're lost."
"Okay, so maybe we are. But how can we be lost if we don't even know where the hell we're going?" Sam countered.
***
Webster Springs, West Virginia
Saturday, 11:48 PM EST
The walls of the motel room were colored a dingy yellow. The daisy-print wallpaper was peeling away in most spots, and the threadbare carpet revealed floorboards that creaked every time someone moved. Sydney surveyed all this and sighed; she'd been in worse rooms.
She turned her attention back to the map that was sprawled out on the bed. She was sure they hadn't been followed here, especially after her zigzag driving through the woods for the last few hours. Right now, Sydney's main concerns were finding the nearest safe house (there didn't seem to be too many of them in West Virginia) and trying to explain all this to the frightened woman who had locked herself inside the bathroom.
Sydney was ready when she heard the bathroom door open. The person that emerged held a towel in one hand, which she used to dab her bloodshot eyes; the other hand, Sydney noticed, was shaking.
"How are your eyes?" she asked, standing up.
"A little better, I think," the other woman replied slowly.
"Do you want to seat down?"
"I want to know what the hell is going on here!" the woman exploded with a rage Sydney wasn't expecting.
"Look, I know this all seems overwhelming right now, Donna --"
"How do you know my name? Who are you?"
"My name is Sydney Bristow. I work for the CIA." Before continuing, she noticed the confusion that crossed Donna's face. "The reason you were arrested - the reason why you think you were arrested - is because of me."
"If you work for the CIA, then why did you just break me out of federal custody?"
"Okay, first of all, you weren't in federal custody. They just wanted you to believe that so you wouldn't resist."
"Huh?"
"Maybe I should just start from the beginning," Sydney said.
"I would appreciate that." Donna sat down on the bed opposite Sydney as she spoke.
"Three years ago - okay, maybe I should go back farther - nine years ago, I was recruited out of college by what I was told was a secret branch of the CIA called SD-6. I went from studying in the library to going on undercover missions. I figured I was going to save the world. In actuality, I was working for the very people I thought I was fighting against." Sydney paused, seeing Donna's reaction. "What?"
"Nothing," she said in a hushed tone. "I didn't think stuff like this really happened."
"I know. It's...My fiancé, Danny, had trouble with the truth, too. When the head of SD-6 found out that Danny knew my secret, he had Danny killed. Shot. I found him...in our apartment."
Sydney could tell that Donna's silence was out of respect. She almost thought she detected a moment of mutual understanding on the other woman's part.
"That's when I found out SD-6 wasn't a black-ops division of the CIA. That's also when I decided to join the real CIA as a double agent. Now I'm committed to bringing down SD-6."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Before I learned the truth about SD-6, I traveled the globe going on missions. Thinking back on it now, I probably shouldn't be proud about a lot of the things I did. One thing in particular..."
***
Three years earlier
Washington, D.C.
Thursday, 5:32 AM EST
Sydney released her hands from the steering wheel as she finished parking the van and picked up a Styrofoam cup of coffee. She had a perfect view of the brownstone across the street. She kept her eyes keenly glued to the front door and settled down into the early morning quiet that still remained on the street.
"Anything yet?" called a voice from the back of the van. Her partner, Marcus Dixon, was just sitting down in front of a panel of security monitors that covered the block in every direction. In his hand, he held two thick folders he had been studying since they had gotten on the plane in Los Angeles.
"Nothing," Sydney replied. "The recon team said her schedule's the most unpredictable they've seen. All they could pin down is that she leaves her apartment sometime between 5:30 and 6 each morning during the week. How's the reading coming?"
"I'm impressed with this guy. Both of them, actually. I just hope all this research pays off and I can think of enough things to say to keep them occupied." His tone shifted quickly when he spotted something on one of the monitors. "We've got movement."
Sydney quickly turned to watch their target walking through the door on the right. "Thought it'd be the gray one," she said quietly, reflecting on the file she had been studying. She got up to join Dixon in the back who was already holding up a gray turtleneck that exactly matched the one the woman across the street was wearing.
"I'll leave you to change," he said, eyeing the blonde wig and makeup lying on the make shift vanity on the opposite wall of the van. He gave Sydney a quick smile before switching places and closing the dividing curtain.
Hours later, Sydney and Dixon were being waved through White House security with their visitor badges. Sydney smiled to herself at the thought of how easy it was just getting into the West Wing. Marshall, SD-6's tech guy, had no trouble whipping up a pair of fake IDs to match their aliases.
They were greeted in the lobby by a smiling blonde woman. "Mr. Breckenridge?" she asked, extending her hand to Dixon. "I'm Donna Moss, Josh Lyman's assistant. I spoke with someone from your office."
"That would be Janine," Dixon said, bringing Sydney forward.
"Nice to meet you," Donna replied, taking Sydney's hand as well. As their hands touched, Sydney felt a small spark of regret, knowing she was about to set this woman up. She pushed the sensation out of her mind though as she focused on Donna who continued to speak.
"If you'll just wait here a moment." She disappeared behind two swinging glass doors.
Sydney watched her go, relieved that even though she had matched her outfit to coincide perfectly with Donna's, she had made enough variations with her wig, a large necklace, a white sweater, and wire-rimmed glasses for this initial meeting.
Before she could even say a word to Dixon seated across from her, Donna was back, ready to bring Dixon to meet with the Deputy Chief of Staff. Sydney took this moment to drop her oversized purse, spilling its contents all over the floor. Donna was instantly at Sydney's side helping to pick up the scattered papers and didn't feel a thing as Sydney swiped Donna's keycard from around her neck and put both the card and the cord into her own pocket.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sydney moaned, taking a stack of files from Donna. "Don't know how that happened."
"No problem," Donna replied, standing up.
"If I could just be a bother for one more minute, which way is the ladies' room?" Sydney asked meekly.
Donna motioned for Sydney and Dixon to follow her through the glass doors. She pointed Sydney toward a hallway past some desks in the far corner of the room and brought Dixon to an open doorway. As Sydney made her way through the bullpen, she could hear Donna behind her, "Mr. Breckenridge?"
After a quick change in one of the bathroom stalls, Sydney emerged looking even more like Donna than she expected. More than a few people nodded in her direction as she found her way down a second hallway. With the help of Donna's security card, Sydney was inside the server room seconds before someone came down the hall. She overrode the encryption code and located the right file with ease, thanks to another of Marshall's useful gadgets (a compact with a hidden console beneath the powder). In another instant, the file was downloading onto a disc that fit right into the space behind the mirror. She placed the compact into her pocket and was back outside heading toward the bathroom again to retrieve her bag.
On her way back to the lobby, now resembling Janine more than Donna, Sydney swept past Donna sitting at her desk, but Donna was too busy scribbling down a phone message to notice. Sydney took her previous seat in one of the brown leather chairs that flanked either side of the security desk in the Northwest lobby. She made an exaggerated motion of picking up a pencil she had purposely dropped in order to pull out Donna's badge.
"Excuse me," Sydney called, flagging down a passing guard. "This was on the floor." She handed over Donna's ID card with a smile. Now all she had to do, she thought, was wait for Dixon.
***
Present day
Webster Springs, West Virginia
Sunday, 12:02 AM EST
"That was you?" Donna asked, staring at Sydney in disbelief.
Sydney took a breath before she answered. "Yeah, that was me. I know this all sounds strange, but it's the truth."
"I believe you," Donna said quietly, remembering. "There are some things I still don't understand. Like what did you mean before when you said I wasn't in federal custody?"
"You were being held by a group known as the Triad. Until this point, I thought they only dealt internationally, but the nature of what I stole from the White House seems to have gotten their attention."
"What did you take?"
"A list of employees who were possible security threats. That's the kind of information that could be very valuable to foreign intelligence agencies looking for recruits."
"So that's what they kept asking me about," Donna said, more to herself than to Sydney. "Then I'm not in trouble with the US government?"
"No, not really," Sydney replied. "I'm pretty sure the FBI was planning on arresting me last night. But the Triad still seems to think you know the whereabouts of the file. As far as I know, the security footage from three years ago was lost until recently. That was one of the reasons it's taken so long for anyone to act on this."
"What happens now?" Donna asked.
"Right now, I'm going to go see what's in that vending machine outside. I'm sure you must be starving." She gave Donna a slight smile before leaving the room.
Donna took a good look around. She wasn't quite sure what to make of everything she had just been told. Despite everything Sydney had just said, Donna started to calm down a little. If she hadn't done anything wrong, there was no reason why she couldn't go home soon.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a cell phone lying on the table among the rest of Sydney's things. Without thinking, Donna picked it up and dialed Josh's number. Instead of hearing the expectant ring, she heard only a string of clicking noises. "Dammit," she mumbled.
"It won't work."
Donna spun around to find Sydney standing in the doorway holding a bag of pretzels and a can of soda. Not knowing why she felt guilty, Donna lowered the phone.
"I didn't - I wasn't -I just wanted to let Josh know where I was," she managed to say.
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"No!" Donna said quickly, feeling her cheeks begin to blush. "He's just my boss." Her eyes grew distant for a moment. "Sorry," she added, handing over the phone.
"It's okay," Sydney said. "The phone's designed to only receive incoming calls. So our position can't be traced."
Donna wasn't sure what to say. The enormity of this entire situation was slowing sinking in. "What are you saying? When am I going home?"
"Donna, I don't know how to tell you this. You can't go home."
o
***
tbc...
Chapter 5
***
Los Angeles, California
Saturday, 7:04 PM PST
The picture from the television was the only illumination in the darkened room, and the volume was so low it made the passing conversation on screen inaudible. The person sitting in front of it stared blankly at the picture flickering by. He didn't care about the program that was on - he never watched TV anyway - but at the very least it was something to distract him, however trivial. He had only one thought repeating in his brain. Why hadn't he been called yet?
As though through sheer force of will, his cell phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table, began to ring. He answered it before it could sound again, "Jack Bristow."
"It's Vaughn, checking in."
"Agent Vaughn, you were supposed to call me the moment Sydney was secure in the safe house."
"I realize that, sir, but there's been a development."
"What kind of development?"
"Sydney decided to take matters into her own hands, so to speak."
"What are you talking about? Are you with my daughter?"
"No."
"Then where is she?"
"As far as I know somewhere in West Virginia. The thing is, though, she was supposed to check in more than an hour ago but she hasn't been answering her phone. I don't know where she is."
***
Highway 77
Saturday, 10:36 PM EST
The two figures drove silently past a rundown roadside motel whose neon sign flashed 'no vacancies' every few seconds. The single car in the parking lot would seem to say otherwise.
"We're lost," Josh declared.
"We're not lost."
"Where are we then?" Josh asked, glaring over at Sam in the passenger seat.
"I don't know."
"That means we're lost."
"No," Sam insisted. "We're following the map. Look, there's a sign," Sam paused to read. "'Now entering Ohio.'"
Josh ripped the map out of Sam's hands before repeating, "We're lost."
"Okay, so maybe we are. But how can we be lost if we don't even know where the hell we're going?" Sam countered.
***
Webster Springs, West Virginia
Saturday, 11:48 PM EST
The walls of the motel room were colored a dingy yellow. The daisy-print wallpaper was peeling away in most spots, and the threadbare carpet revealed floorboards that creaked every time someone moved. Sydney surveyed all this and sighed; she'd been in worse rooms.
She turned her attention back to the map that was sprawled out on the bed. She was sure they hadn't been followed here, especially after her zigzag driving through the woods for the last few hours. Right now, Sydney's main concerns were finding the nearest safe house (there didn't seem to be too many of them in West Virginia) and trying to explain all this to the frightened woman who had locked herself inside the bathroom.
Sydney was ready when she heard the bathroom door open. The person that emerged held a towel in one hand, which she used to dab her bloodshot eyes; the other hand, Sydney noticed, was shaking.
"How are your eyes?" she asked, standing up.
"A little better, I think," the other woman replied slowly.
"Do you want to seat down?"
"I want to know what the hell is going on here!" the woman exploded with a rage Sydney wasn't expecting.
"Look, I know this all seems overwhelming right now, Donna --"
"How do you know my name? Who are you?"
"My name is Sydney Bristow. I work for the CIA." Before continuing, she noticed the confusion that crossed Donna's face. "The reason you were arrested - the reason why you think you were arrested - is because of me."
"If you work for the CIA, then why did you just break me out of federal custody?"
"Okay, first of all, you weren't in federal custody. They just wanted you to believe that so you wouldn't resist."
"Huh?"
"Maybe I should just start from the beginning," Sydney said.
"I would appreciate that." Donna sat down on the bed opposite Sydney as she spoke.
"Three years ago - okay, maybe I should go back farther - nine years ago, I was recruited out of college by what I was told was a secret branch of the CIA called SD-6. I went from studying in the library to going on undercover missions. I figured I was going to save the world. In actuality, I was working for the very people I thought I was fighting against." Sydney paused, seeing Donna's reaction. "What?"
"Nothing," she said in a hushed tone. "I didn't think stuff like this really happened."
"I know. It's...My fiancé, Danny, had trouble with the truth, too. When the head of SD-6 found out that Danny knew my secret, he had Danny killed. Shot. I found him...in our apartment."
Sydney could tell that Donna's silence was out of respect. She almost thought she detected a moment of mutual understanding on the other woman's part.
"That's when I found out SD-6 wasn't a black-ops division of the CIA. That's also when I decided to join the real CIA as a double agent. Now I'm committed to bringing down SD-6."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Before I learned the truth about SD-6, I traveled the globe going on missions. Thinking back on it now, I probably shouldn't be proud about a lot of the things I did. One thing in particular..."
***
Three years earlier
Washington, D.C.
Thursday, 5:32 AM EST
Sydney released her hands from the steering wheel as she finished parking the van and picked up a Styrofoam cup of coffee. She had a perfect view of the brownstone across the street. She kept her eyes keenly glued to the front door and settled down into the early morning quiet that still remained on the street.
"Anything yet?" called a voice from the back of the van. Her partner, Marcus Dixon, was just sitting down in front of a panel of security monitors that covered the block in every direction. In his hand, he held two thick folders he had been studying since they had gotten on the plane in Los Angeles.
"Nothing," Sydney replied. "The recon team said her schedule's the most unpredictable they've seen. All they could pin down is that she leaves her apartment sometime between 5:30 and 6 each morning during the week. How's the reading coming?"
"I'm impressed with this guy. Both of them, actually. I just hope all this research pays off and I can think of enough things to say to keep them occupied." His tone shifted quickly when he spotted something on one of the monitors. "We've got movement."
Sydney quickly turned to watch their target walking through the door on the right. "Thought it'd be the gray one," she said quietly, reflecting on the file she had been studying. She got up to join Dixon in the back who was already holding up a gray turtleneck that exactly matched the one the woman across the street was wearing.
"I'll leave you to change," he said, eyeing the blonde wig and makeup lying on the make shift vanity on the opposite wall of the van. He gave Sydney a quick smile before switching places and closing the dividing curtain.
Hours later, Sydney and Dixon were being waved through White House security with their visitor badges. Sydney smiled to herself at the thought of how easy it was just getting into the West Wing. Marshall, SD-6's tech guy, had no trouble whipping up a pair of fake IDs to match their aliases.
They were greeted in the lobby by a smiling blonde woman. "Mr. Breckenridge?" she asked, extending her hand to Dixon. "I'm Donna Moss, Josh Lyman's assistant. I spoke with someone from your office."
"That would be Janine," Dixon said, bringing Sydney forward.
"Nice to meet you," Donna replied, taking Sydney's hand as well. As their hands touched, Sydney felt a small spark of regret, knowing she was about to set this woman up. She pushed the sensation out of her mind though as she focused on Donna who continued to speak.
"If you'll just wait here a moment." She disappeared behind two swinging glass doors.
Sydney watched her go, relieved that even though she had matched her outfit to coincide perfectly with Donna's, she had made enough variations with her wig, a large necklace, a white sweater, and wire-rimmed glasses for this initial meeting.
Before she could even say a word to Dixon seated across from her, Donna was back, ready to bring Dixon to meet with the Deputy Chief of Staff. Sydney took this moment to drop her oversized purse, spilling its contents all over the floor. Donna was instantly at Sydney's side helping to pick up the scattered papers and didn't feel a thing as Sydney swiped Donna's keycard from around her neck and put both the card and the cord into her own pocket.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sydney moaned, taking a stack of files from Donna. "Don't know how that happened."
"No problem," Donna replied, standing up.
"If I could just be a bother for one more minute, which way is the ladies' room?" Sydney asked meekly.
Donna motioned for Sydney and Dixon to follow her through the glass doors. She pointed Sydney toward a hallway past some desks in the far corner of the room and brought Dixon to an open doorway. As Sydney made her way through the bullpen, she could hear Donna behind her, "Mr. Breckenridge?"
After a quick change in one of the bathroom stalls, Sydney emerged looking even more like Donna than she expected. More than a few people nodded in her direction as she found her way down a second hallway. With the help of Donna's security card, Sydney was inside the server room seconds before someone came down the hall. She overrode the encryption code and located the right file with ease, thanks to another of Marshall's useful gadgets (a compact with a hidden console beneath the powder). In another instant, the file was downloading onto a disc that fit right into the space behind the mirror. She placed the compact into her pocket and was back outside heading toward the bathroom again to retrieve her bag.
On her way back to the lobby, now resembling Janine more than Donna, Sydney swept past Donna sitting at her desk, but Donna was too busy scribbling down a phone message to notice. Sydney took her previous seat in one of the brown leather chairs that flanked either side of the security desk in the Northwest lobby. She made an exaggerated motion of picking up a pencil she had purposely dropped in order to pull out Donna's badge.
"Excuse me," Sydney called, flagging down a passing guard. "This was on the floor." She handed over Donna's ID card with a smile. Now all she had to do, she thought, was wait for Dixon.
***
Present day
Webster Springs, West Virginia
Sunday, 12:02 AM EST
"That was you?" Donna asked, staring at Sydney in disbelief.
Sydney took a breath before she answered. "Yeah, that was me. I know this all sounds strange, but it's the truth."
"I believe you," Donna said quietly, remembering. "There are some things I still don't understand. Like what did you mean before when you said I wasn't in federal custody?"
"You were being held by a group known as the Triad. Until this point, I thought they only dealt internationally, but the nature of what I stole from the White House seems to have gotten their attention."
"What did you take?"
"A list of employees who were possible security threats. That's the kind of information that could be very valuable to foreign intelligence agencies looking for recruits."
"So that's what they kept asking me about," Donna said, more to herself than to Sydney. "Then I'm not in trouble with the US government?"
"No, not really," Sydney replied. "I'm pretty sure the FBI was planning on arresting me last night. But the Triad still seems to think you know the whereabouts of the file. As far as I know, the security footage from three years ago was lost until recently. That was one of the reasons it's taken so long for anyone to act on this."
"What happens now?" Donna asked.
"Right now, I'm going to go see what's in that vending machine outside. I'm sure you must be starving." She gave Donna a slight smile before leaving the room.
Donna took a good look around. She wasn't quite sure what to make of everything she had just been told. Despite everything Sydney had just said, Donna started to calm down a little. If she hadn't done anything wrong, there was no reason why she couldn't go home soon.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a cell phone lying on the table among the rest of Sydney's things. Without thinking, Donna picked it up and dialed Josh's number. Instead of hearing the expectant ring, she heard only a string of clicking noises. "Dammit," she mumbled.
"It won't work."
Donna spun around to find Sydney standing in the doorway holding a bag of pretzels and a can of soda. Not knowing why she felt guilty, Donna lowered the phone.
"I didn't - I wasn't -I just wanted to let Josh know where I was," she managed to say.
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"No!" Donna said quickly, feeling her cheeks begin to blush. "He's just my boss." Her eyes grew distant for a moment. "Sorry," she added, handing over the phone.
"It's okay," Sydney said. "The phone's designed to only receive incoming calls. So our position can't be traced."
Donna wasn't sure what to say. The enormity of this entire situation was slowing sinking in. "What are you saying? When am I going home?"
"Donna, I don't know how to tell you this. You can't go home."
o
***
tbc...