***Chapter Five - The Ice Duchess***
Vaughn sat willing on the couch with only the company of two estrange family members battling out on who wasn't right and who was wrong. He already knows that both of them weren't going to win at this strange competition. It was in their blood, sort of speak, both probably could go on for hours, see whose blood could boil first. It wasn't until he became part of the reunion.
"See Vaughn, you can be trusted only because you know we both can kill you in a second. Since of my father's feeble state and of course my education, probably myself half the time. The reason why we are here because you can't speak until you are spoke to, and that would take force, wouldn't it Vaughn?" Sydney places the glass at her lips never even glancing at his figure across from her. Only raising and eyebrow to her father and landing it back to her own glass.
"Vaughn can be trusted because he is the only one who respects the classification of ACI, he never questioned as much I could see he wanted to. He can be trusted because his father could have been." Jack says.
"Oh, another second generation agent in the room? We'll love for you to join the club Agent Vaughn." Sydney jokes.
"Did know there was one." His voice breaks in the first time of Jack's arrival. "And it's Vaughn if you like."
"Ok, Vaughn. Tell me if it's respectable to disregard your own daughter for the reason of her maturity?" She inquires.
"Well, in my opinion, if the so called woman is what she is, a woman? Sometimes parents can only do so much. But if the woman is a need of dire assistance, then it is quite natural for kin to help." He chooses the words perfectly to be non-biased. But both of their faces are only in the game for the sake of the over all winner.
"You don't understand Dad. To find out that contacts were also turned but they delivered false information. Contacts that you set up for me, that you told me that could be trusted. I gave that information to the CIA, information on where Peter Nightingale was going to be. So they tell me that when I go that I have to bring him back. Not the assassination I signed up for, but I go by what was ordered. Thinking, hey, it's no big deal, nothing too hard. But then when I go, he's not there; instead he's on the roof trying to run from me.
"So I put on my Kevlar and gear and run after him. It's ninety-five degrees on top of a building in San Diego, tar sticking to my boots and getting sick from the terrible heat. I tell him to stop in sake of the United States, I'm telling myself what a stupid joke, he's a goddamn fugitive for four years and that's going to stop him now. And if it did, it would come down to it. So I'm running after him and of course I slow down, I have Kevlar, a knife, a gun, and tranquilizer shots. So it's going to be a little harder when I running after a ninety-five pound guy that could be easily snapped as a twig. So then he jumps to the side building, an alley between the two. So I jump, instead my gear weighs me down and I make to the edge of the side building, hanging by my fingertips.
"I try to get on the side but my hands are sweaty and clammy and I slip, and I just make it to the trash can a foot away from the pavement that I was going to land on. When I get back, they throw me into a cell. I am refused a doctor or some bandages, or at least a shower to clean up the fish smell. I smell horrible, landing into a can of seafood swamp. I'm also cut all around from the opened cans that were thrown into that trashcan. So soon they start to become infected and two days I'm in that cell before they finally let me have a shower, and three days before I see a doctor.
"By the time I accepted that the guards weren't going to say anything they came to me and said that I was being pressed charged with treason, espionage, and this is funny-Public disruption. See they wanted to charge me with something, wanted to punish me because I didn't live up to their expectations. They thought they were getting this million-dollar piece of equipment when all they were getting was just another human. So they got another girl trying to get paid, just trying to live up to her father's expectations.
"I told myself, Dad's going to get me out of here, he's going to save me. After all it was his contacts, his information that she acquired. A month went pass, and then they send me on a bus to a far location. I'm stuck in another cell, top security, with a cell big as a broom closet. It took me five months to escape because in those five months there were no phone calls, no talks of a trial, hell I didn't even have a lawyer. Funny thing was even I got to the safe house the CIA director found me and only congratulated me. This time I was finally let go free, that was three days ago." Sydney takes a drink of her water and stares back at her father's direction.
"I couldn't help you if I could Sydney. Those things are sometimes at people control that you can't influence. You know I tried, you know I did not forget you. But I had missions of my own, and those missions finally got you out of there safely." Jack says.
"The only reason why the CIA let you go free is because Peter Nightingale is back on the radar, and they want that information."
"And what do you think that information is, Sydney?" Jack questions.
"The CIA told me that the revolutionary front was behind stealing Rambaldi pieces, Nightingale was part of that plan." Sydney explains.
"Sydney, Peter Nightingale was part of Project Christmas. He was turned a double by your mother, and now works with the SVR. The only reason the CIA wanted him alive was because of ACI."
"I don't understand Jack." Vaughn says. Sydney peeps at him sharply and looks back at her father with the most displeased face. They never talked about her mother before, now they were having this conversation with Vaughn of all people. Vaughn had to be well trusted and well acknowledge to be speaking of Laura Bristow in the same room. It seemed at the CIA he was totally left out of the loop with everything. It must have been a front, for all of her father's contacts and acquaintances have acted stupid in front of the eyes of their superior.
"Peter and I were once very close associates. We had an idea of furthering Project Christmas into a full boarding school cover and continuing educating children to further them into the career in government. You were eight at the time when the CIA accepted and classified our idea. We were given a large building in the middle of the woods, not to far from the town to ask questions.
"It was a regular boarding school with at least one thousand students ages raging from six to eighteen. So instead of gym and sports we taught sparring and fighting techniques, there were additional classes at the end of the day to teach the program. It sounds inhumane and cruel, but we provided them a home. They were never yelled at or punished; we were a regular school with just a few additional classes such as provided at Langley.
"I never said anything to Peter about you, he never dealt with the students only the teachers. That's probably why he didn't recognize you when you two were on the roof. He left the Academy three years ago, and ever since then he was handing the programs and yearly tuitions to the SVR right under the CIA's noses. He did screw up though. When SVR refused to pay for any more intelligence from the program he sold the student manifesto to German intelligence. Just a few days ago they asked for the original copy of the manifesto. Peter was always the greedy son of a bitch, so he said he has it and will send it to them in a matter of business days. Now he's trying to get the copy from German Intelligence" Jack explains tiresomely.
"That why they let me out of prison, it's because they want me to get the manifesto before Nightingale and Russian Intelligence."
"Why didn't he make a copy of the manifesto?" Vaughn asks.
"He was always the stupid one." Jack admires.
"So why is this list so important? Most of the students are in different schools or with a different job." Sydney acknowledges.
"In that manifesto, it has everything. Every doctor's appointment, every physical and physiological analyst, and I mean everything. Even alias and mission ops. Luckily the Germans have no use for it as they planned, but they want it for safekeeping. If SVR takes a hold of it, they will recruit secretly and they will know doubles. Sydney, they will know that you exist." Jack glimpses in a moment of shock.
"So when am I getting this list?" Sydney asks.
"Hopefully in the next few days, we have a track on Nightingale, we move in before he does." Jack stands up and brushes of dog hair around his blazer. "I'll meet you tomorrow back at operations, I'm going to assist with the mission." Sydney smiles wryly as her father exits the apartment. She looks back at Vaughn, who was questioning if she was going to ask about his standing friendship, mostly partnership with Jack. Instead she stares at him with almost an over played yawn and asks,
"Where do I sleep and where's the shower?"
*********
A/N: Aren't you happy I updated. It's so cruel, I know. I'll have another chapter by tomorrow if I have at least *5* reviews. That isn't so hard to do. It can be only one word, I don't care. Now that's cruel.
At least 5 reviews and I'll post the next chapter thursday...and it has lots of M/V fluff...it's your choice.
*
Vaughn sat willing on the couch with only the company of two estrange family members battling out on who wasn't right and who was wrong. He already knows that both of them weren't going to win at this strange competition. It was in their blood, sort of speak, both probably could go on for hours, see whose blood could boil first. It wasn't until he became part of the reunion.
"See Vaughn, you can be trusted only because you know we both can kill you in a second. Since of my father's feeble state and of course my education, probably myself half the time. The reason why we are here because you can't speak until you are spoke to, and that would take force, wouldn't it Vaughn?" Sydney places the glass at her lips never even glancing at his figure across from her. Only raising and eyebrow to her father and landing it back to her own glass.
"Vaughn can be trusted because he is the only one who respects the classification of ACI, he never questioned as much I could see he wanted to. He can be trusted because his father could have been." Jack says.
"Oh, another second generation agent in the room? We'll love for you to join the club Agent Vaughn." Sydney jokes.
"Did know there was one." His voice breaks in the first time of Jack's arrival. "And it's Vaughn if you like."
"Ok, Vaughn. Tell me if it's respectable to disregard your own daughter for the reason of her maturity?" She inquires.
"Well, in my opinion, if the so called woman is what she is, a woman? Sometimes parents can only do so much. But if the woman is a need of dire assistance, then it is quite natural for kin to help." He chooses the words perfectly to be non-biased. But both of their faces are only in the game for the sake of the over all winner.
"You don't understand Dad. To find out that contacts were also turned but they delivered false information. Contacts that you set up for me, that you told me that could be trusted. I gave that information to the CIA, information on where Peter Nightingale was going to be. So they tell me that when I go that I have to bring him back. Not the assassination I signed up for, but I go by what was ordered. Thinking, hey, it's no big deal, nothing too hard. But then when I go, he's not there; instead he's on the roof trying to run from me.
"So I put on my Kevlar and gear and run after him. It's ninety-five degrees on top of a building in San Diego, tar sticking to my boots and getting sick from the terrible heat. I tell him to stop in sake of the United States, I'm telling myself what a stupid joke, he's a goddamn fugitive for four years and that's going to stop him now. And if it did, it would come down to it. So I'm running after him and of course I slow down, I have Kevlar, a knife, a gun, and tranquilizer shots. So it's going to be a little harder when I running after a ninety-five pound guy that could be easily snapped as a twig. So then he jumps to the side building, an alley between the two. So I jump, instead my gear weighs me down and I make to the edge of the side building, hanging by my fingertips.
"I try to get on the side but my hands are sweaty and clammy and I slip, and I just make it to the trash can a foot away from the pavement that I was going to land on. When I get back, they throw me into a cell. I am refused a doctor or some bandages, or at least a shower to clean up the fish smell. I smell horrible, landing into a can of seafood swamp. I'm also cut all around from the opened cans that were thrown into that trashcan. So soon they start to become infected and two days I'm in that cell before they finally let me have a shower, and three days before I see a doctor.
"By the time I accepted that the guards weren't going to say anything they came to me and said that I was being pressed charged with treason, espionage, and this is funny-Public disruption. See they wanted to charge me with something, wanted to punish me because I didn't live up to their expectations. They thought they were getting this million-dollar piece of equipment when all they were getting was just another human. So they got another girl trying to get paid, just trying to live up to her father's expectations.
"I told myself, Dad's going to get me out of here, he's going to save me. After all it was his contacts, his information that she acquired. A month went pass, and then they send me on a bus to a far location. I'm stuck in another cell, top security, with a cell big as a broom closet. It took me five months to escape because in those five months there were no phone calls, no talks of a trial, hell I didn't even have a lawyer. Funny thing was even I got to the safe house the CIA director found me and only congratulated me. This time I was finally let go free, that was three days ago." Sydney takes a drink of her water and stares back at her father's direction.
"I couldn't help you if I could Sydney. Those things are sometimes at people control that you can't influence. You know I tried, you know I did not forget you. But I had missions of my own, and those missions finally got you out of there safely." Jack says.
"The only reason why the CIA let you go free is because Peter Nightingale is back on the radar, and they want that information."
"And what do you think that information is, Sydney?" Jack questions.
"The CIA told me that the revolutionary front was behind stealing Rambaldi pieces, Nightingale was part of that plan." Sydney explains.
"Sydney, Peter Nightingale was part of Project Christmas. He was turned a double by your mother, and now works with the SVR. The only reason the CIA wanted him alive was because of ACI."
"I don't understand Jack." Vaughn says. Sydney peeps at him sharply and looks back at her father with the most displeased face. They never talked about her mother before, now they were having this conversation with Vaughn of all people. Vaughn had to be well trusted and well acknowledge to be speaking of Laura Bristow in the same room. It seemed at the CIA he was totally left out of the loop with everything. It must have been a front, for all of her father's contacts and acquaintances have acted stupid in front of the eyes of their superior.
"Peter and I were once very close associates. We had an idea of furthering Project Christmas into a full boarding school cover and continuing educating children to further them into the career in government. You were eight at the time when the CIA accepted and classified our idea. We were given a large building in the middle of the woods, not to far from the town to ask questions.
"It was a regular boarding school with at least one thousand students ages raging from six to eighteen. So instead of gym and sports we taught sparring and fighting techniques, there were additional classes at the end of the day to teach the program. It sounds inhumane and cruel, but we provided them a home. They were never yelled at or punished; we were a regular school with just a few additional classes such as provided at Langley.
"I never said anything to Peter about you, he never dealt with the students only the teachers. That's probably why he didn't recognize you when you two were on the roof. He left the Academy three years ago, and ever since then he was handing the programs and yearly tuitions to the SVR right under the CIA's noses. He did screw up though. When SVR refused to pay for any more intelligence from the program he sold the student manifesto to German intelligence. Just a few days ago they asked for the original copy of the manifesto. Peter was always the greedy son of a bitch, so he said he has it and will send it to them in a matter of business days. Now he's trying to get the copy from German Intelligence" Jack explains tiresomely.
"That why they let me out of prison, it's because they want me to get the manifesto before Nightingale and Russian Intelligence."
"Why didn't he make a copy of the manifesto?" Vaughn asks.
"He was always the stupid one." Jack admires.
"So why is this list so important? Most of the students are in different schools or with a different job." Sydney acknowledges.
"In that manifesto, it has everything. Every doctor's appointment, every physical and physiological analyst, and I mean everything. Even alias and mission ops. Luckily the Germans have no use for it as they planned, but they want it for safekeeping. If SVR takes a hold of it, they will recruit secretly and they will know doubles. Sydney, they will know that you exist." Jack glimpses in a moment of shock.
"So when am I getting this list?" Sydney asks.
"Hopefully in the next few days, we have a track on Nightingale, we move in before he does." Jack stands up and brushes of dog hair around his blazer. "I'll meet you tomorrow back at operations, I'm going to assist with the mission." Sydney smiles wryly as her father exits the apartment. She looks back at Vaughn, who was questioning if she was going to ask about his standing friendship, mostly partnership with Jack. Instead she stares at him with almost an over played yawn and asks,
"Where do I sleep and where's the shower?"
*********
A/N: Aren't you happy I updated. It's so cruel, I know. I'll have another chapter by tomorrow if I have at least *5* reviews. That isn't so hard to do. It can be only one word, I don't care. Now that's cruel.
At least 5 reviews and I'll post the next chapter thursday...and it has lots of M/V fluff...it's your choice.
*