Confrontation



Jack awakened first and gently nudged Sydney as Dixon came to retrieve them after the plane had touched down. They grabbed their equipment (read: automatic weapons) and their luggage and exited the plane.

A shiny black Suburban awaited them and they walked towards it. Dixon had the keys and he unlocked the doors.

"Thank God they didn't stick us with a Ford Focus," Sydney mumbled.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Nothing," Sydney replied, slinging her weapon and suitcase into the back of the SUV, but keeping a small handgun in her belt.

Dixon climbed into the driver's seat, Jack got shotgun, and Sydney sat in the middle row in the backseat.

"So we're definitely using lethal force?" Sydney asked, wanting to confirm the mission's objective.

"Yes," Jack replied as they drove.

"Okay," Sydney said with a nod, settling back in her seat. "Let me know when we get there. I need to take another nap." With that, she propped her elbow against the door and rested her cheek against her hand, conking out rather quickly.

Jack and Dixon glanced over their shoulders at Sydney and exchanged smiles as the journey wore on.


"We're here, Sydney," Jack told his daughter as he gently shook her awake. He was already out of the car and had his gun slung over his shoulder. "Wake up, sweetheart."

Sydney nodded and sat up, rolling her head back on her shoulders to work out the kinks in her neck. She took off her seat belt and jumped out of the car, taking the gun that Jack held out to her.

"So this is it," she began, "after today I won't have a mother."

Jack and Dixon exchanged glances and sighed.

"Some life this spy crap is, huh?" Sydney said with a dry laugh. She looked over her shoulder at the two men who stood behind her. "Let's get this over with."


The three had begun a slow pace in walking up to the villa. They were all a bit uneasy about the idea of killing people in what would most likely be cold blood since they had the advantage of surprise, and weren't in a hurry to speed up the process.

Sydney sighed and ran her fingertips over the cool surface of the gun as the cold night air nipped at her nose, cheeks, and ears.

Instinctively, Jack and Dixon had moved ahead of Sydney as if to shield her with their bodies if there was a sudden threat. Both men were more than willing to risk their lives for her.

They finally made it up to the front doors of the mansion. Having no clue as to what security Sloane might have, they knew they would had no choice but to take a chance. Dixon used a lock pick to unlock one of the doors.

The three cocked their guns and stormed into the house, looking in all directions. The foyer was empty.

"Let's split up," Sydney suggested. "You guys go upstairs, I'll take the ground floor."

Dixon nodded and started for the stairs. Jack reluctantly agreed and planted a kiss on the top of Sydney's head before following Dixon.

Sydney carefully roamed the ground floor and a major feeling of uneasiness swept over her.

What if Sark is upstairs?

She swallowed and continued searching the ground floor. She checked out the kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms, and coat closets and found nothing. She wandered back out into the front foyer and suddenly went sprawling on the floor, her gun sliding across the hardwood, about ten feet away from her. She gasped and pushed herself up to her knees and looked around trying to see what she had tripped over.

Her eyes fell on a couple of loosened floorboards. She crawled over to them and realized that they were part of a trapdoor. She carefully lifted it up and peered down, seeing a network of underground tunnels.

"Oh my God," she murmured. She closed the trapdoor and ran to the stairs, nursing her left ankle, which she twisted a bit from her fall. She saw her father and Dixon making their way towards her. "I found a trapdoor," she said quickly, catching her breath, "I think they're down there."

"All right, let's go," Jack said.

Sydney took the lead and Jack noticed her limping a little. He touched her shoulder and asked what happened.

"I tripped over the loosened floorboards that make up the trapdoor and I twisted my ankle a little." Sydney gave her father a reassuring smile when he eyed her suspiciously, not believing that she should continue in her condition. "I'm fine, Dad. Really."

Jack nodded and the three took off towards the trapdoor. Dixon climbed down the somewhat rickety ladder first, Jack second, and Sydney last. Dixon began to outline a game plan when Sydney put a finger to her lips and stood, silent, her ears perked up.

Jack and Dixon were silent as well, trying to hear what Sydney was hearing. Sydney took a step forward after a moment and motioned behind her for Jack and Dixon to follow. All three spies readied their guns and took a few steps forward.

Sydney heard her mother's voice and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp when she heard Sark's voice. Her heart skipped a beat with Sark's velvety smooth British accent and her knees suddenly felt weak.

I can't think about this now.

Unfortunately, she couldn't hear what either person was saying, but she could discern from their voices that they seemed to be angry. At whom or what, she wasn't sure. She listened more closely, trying to see if she could hear Sloane's voice.

She didn't.

Sloane wasn't there.

Where the hell is he?

Sydney swallowed hard and began to walk towards the voices, her father and Dixon following close behind. She suddenly stopped and pulled her handgun from her belt. She motioned for Dixon and her father to take one of the other tunnels to corner her mother and Sark so that they couldn't escape. The two men agreed to this with quick nods then left Sydney standing there. She took a few steps forward when her father and Dixon were out of sight and rounded a corner. She stood there for a moment, letting her mother and Sark realize her presence and turn towards her.

Everything happened in slow motion after that. Sydney raised the gun as her mother opened her mouth as if to try to explain. Sydney saw a thousand emotions in both her mother and Sark's eyes and a shiver ran down her spine. She stared into her mother's eyes for a moment and recalled the words she had spoken to her father before the briefing.

"I want to kill her. I want to make her suffer for everything she did to us."

She knew what she had to do. No matter what the consequences of her actions might be. She clenched her teeth, pulled the hammer back, and fired.