Progress



Later that day, Sark and Irina had arrived in Tuscany with the only Rambaldi artifact they had taken—the manuscript with the tracking device—in tow. They made their way to the still-abandoned villa belonging to Sloane and prepared themselves for what lay ahead. Before they left, both of them stopped by their respective homes and packed a suitcase each.

They contacted Sloane almost as soon as they stepped into the house, calling his cell phone and explaining to him, in detail, their situation.

"Mr. Sloane, this is Mr. Sark," Sark said simply when Sloane had answered the phone.

"Ah, the man who betrayed me and stole everything of Rambaldi's that I had in my possession," Sloane replied, his tone amused.

"You're wrong, Mr. Sloane," Sark told him, "I didn't betray you. You betrayed me."

Sloane laughed dryly. "How exactly do you figure that?"

"You sent Irina and I to obtain the genetic database in Germany. By the time we arrived, you had already taken it. Thus, Irina and I returned to Tuscany to attempt to figure out what had happened to this partnership of ours. You weren't here. So, Irina and I took everything."

Sloane was silent on the other end as he mulled over Sark's words.

"Think of it as a hostage situation, Mr. Sloane," Sark said. "You'll get back your artifacts once you agree to reinstate our partnership—our agreement."

Another dry laugh came from Sloane. "How can I be so sure that this isn't a set-up? That you didn't really betray me and that you're not waiting for me with a complete trap into which you would like me to step?"

"You can't," Sark conceded, "you'll have to trust our word."

"Right."

Sark scoffed a bit. "We trusted you to trust us to get the genetic database and you did not. You want to talk about trusting us and we can't even trust you."

"Very well," Sloane said with a sigh. "Life is about taking chances after all."

"You won't be taking any chances," Sark assured him, "Irina and I fully intend and have always intended to stay loyal to you and nothing will change that."

"Where should we meet?" Sloane asked in a somewhat bored tone.

"Your villa here in Tuscany," Sark answered.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," Sloane said and prepared to hang up.

"One more thing," Sark began, "you might be seeing a familiar face when you get here."

"Is that so?" Sloane asked, becoming interested.

"Yes," Sark replied, "we were actually able to recruit Sydney Bristow to our operation."

"Mr. Sark, I barely believed you when you said you wanted your partnership back, and now you expect me to believe that you have Sydney Bristow wrapped around your finger?" Sloane asked skeptically.

"I took care of Sydney. I made her believe that I was in love with her so I could get close to her and ultimately recruit her to our side. She fell for it, and now we have one of the best agents in the world helping us," Sark said, his stomach suddenly twisting into a knot. Irina pinched him for being overzealous at thinking Sydney would discover their plan in time to come to Tuscany alone.

"I'm proud of you, Mr. Sark," Sloane said in an almost sincere voice, making Sark roll his eyes.

"So we'll see you tomorrow then?" Sark confirmed.

"Yes," Sloane agreed, "tomorrow." He disconnected the call.

Sark set the phone down and exhaled loudly, raking a hand through his hair. He was afraid of what Irina would say, since she had heard the entire conversation.

"She might not be here in time," Irina stated, "or she might not come at all. We don't know if she'll be able to understand why we only took the Rambaldi manuscript and nothing else. Or she might be so upset about you leaving suddenly that she's just going to abandon any hope that you did this for her."

"She'll come through," Sark said in a determined voice.

"I hope so," Irina whispered.


Will walked through the task force rotunda making his way to Kendall. He greeted him with a handshake and a smile and did what Sydney had instructed him to do.

"Okay, you need to talk to Kendall and tell him that you want whatever information he can give to you so that you can try and make sense of what happened," Sydney had said. "You need to find out what, if any, Rambaldi artifacts my mother and Sark took with them."

"All right, and after that?"

Sydney sighed a little. "If he tells you what artifacts they took, and one happens to be the manuscript, go to Marshall. He should be able to tell you where they went, as that manuscript has a tracking device on it."

Will nodded.

"If I'm right about their plan," Sydney continued, "that will be the only thing they have."

"Sir, I was wondering if you could tell me whatever you know about the defection of Irina Derevko and Sark and—"

Kendall cut him off. "So far we know nothing except for the fact that they took the Rambaldi manuscript."

"Oh—really?" Will asked, scratching his chin.

"Yes," Kendall said, "and what's odd is that that is the only artifact they took."

Will nodded then shook his head in something like disbelief for Kendall's benefit. "Yeah, that is pretty odd."

"Is that all?" Kendall asked, an edge of exasperation his voice. "I have a meeting to attend."

"Yeah, that was it," Will told him. "Thanks."

Kendall nodded and pursed his lips then turned on his heel and walked away from Will, who sighed a little and went to search for Marshall.

"Hey man," Will said, walking up to him as he stood at his desk inspecting something.

"Oh—hey Will," Marshall said, smiling, "how's it going?"

"Good actually, but I have a favor to ask," Will said.

"Oh, well, okay, uh, let me just—" Marshall continued to ramble a bit as he punched some keys on his computer. He turned to look at Will. "I'm uh, ready, I guess."

"Kendall just told me that Irina and Sark took one Rambaldi artifact—"

"The manuscript with the tracking device I made," Marshall said cheerily.

"Right," Will said with a nod, "well, I was wondering if you could possibly tell me where they are right now—with the tracking device and all."

"Oh, well, let me see here," Marshall struck some keys again and Will watched the screen. "Ah, here." He pointed to a spot on the screen where Will should look.

"Tuscany," Will observed.

Marshall nodded and said, "Yeah, and these are the exact coordinates," as he pointed to another place on the screen.

"Do you mind if I—" Will started, picking up a piece of scratch paper and a pen.

"Not at all, go right ahead," Marshall told him.

"Thanks," Will said, writing down the coordinates. He set the pen down and stuffed the paper into his pocket. He put out his hand and thanked Marshall again.

"Oh, no problem," Marshall said, eagerly shaking Will's hand. "I'm always glad to be of assistance. But, can I ask you one question?"

"Sure."

"Well, I'd like to get to know some of the people here a little better, so I was wondering if maybe you and some of the other people who work here would like to just hang out sometime," Marshall said, shrugging a bit.

"That sounds great," Will said, "how about uh, we get some buddies together and go to a ball game next week or something?"

"Okay, let me check and see when—" Marshall turned back to his computer, typing away fiercely.

"Hey, you know what? I actually need to get going, so could you run a schedule by me later?" Will asked, beginning to step back.

"Oh, of course, yeah, you're probably busy right now," Marshall said, nodding.

"All right, good. But don't forget," Will told him with a lopsided grin, waving a finger at him jokingly.

"I won't," Marshall assured him, "and thanks."

"No problem, man, anything for a friend," Will said with a smile, then walked away.

Marshall smiled after him, then turned back to the computer, typing again. "Let's see"


Meanwhile, Sark was pacing the rather large hardwood floor of the villa's kitchen. Irina watched him, chewing on a fingernail. She sighed. She hoped Sydney would put the pieces together and help with the disposal of Sloane. She feared though, that Sydney might tell the CIA instead of coming by herself with no one else's knowledge. She drummed her fingers on the table.

Sark kept up his pacing. He was chewing on his bottom lip and staring down at the floor. His hands were clenched into fists in his pockets. What if Sydney didn't show up? What if she told the CIA? What if she just swore him off completely?

He was beginning to regret his decision. But, he knew he didn't have much of a choice, so he had to live with it. He stopped pacing and looked over at Irina and caught her gaze. Her eyes showed sadness and he knew that the same emotion was reflected in his own eyes.

"I need to clear my head," he told her. "I think I'll take a swim."

Irina nodded and looked away from him, setting her sights on a tree just outside the large picture window in the kitchen. Sark took this as a sufficient end to their conversation and went to retrieve his suitcase.

He trudged up the stairs and staked out the second floor, looking for some sort of guest bedroom. He found one that looked appreciably large and nicely furnished and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

He tossed the suitcase on the bed and began to undress. He kicked off his shoes and tugged off his socks, then started to unbutton his shirt. He removed it, then stood for a moment in his slacks. He cast a glance at the sliding door that led out to the balcony, frowning at the glare the sun had shed on it. He stepped sideways, able to avoid the glare and see his reflection—nicely chiseled chest, well-toned abdomen, and broad shoulders—in the glass.

He sighed and unbuttoned his slacks, then unzipped the fly and tossed the pants on the bed with his other clothes. He slid off his maroon silk boxers and those joined the heap as well. He stood, naked, pawing through the articles of clothing in his suitcase. He finally dug up a pair of swim trunks and tugged them on, the color of them matching his eyes almost perfectly.

He raked a hand through his hair and journeyed to the bathroom looking for a towel. He found one and folded it lengthwise a few times then draped it around his neck.

He thought of Sydney, but not in the way he had been a few minutes before, of whether or not she would come through, but of how much he missed her. How much he missed holding her, kissing her, loving her.

His expression had softened with these thoughts, and he allowed himself to loosen up as he made his way back down the stairs and outside to the pool.


Sydney was curled up on the couch again, waiting for Will to come back. She had already packed a small suitcase that was sitting by the door, patiently waiting to be carried out to Sydney's Land Cruiser.

Her legs were drawn up to her chest and she was basically lost in thought. Her mind darted back and forth from wondering exactly what was happening with her mother and Sark to thinking about how much she missed Sark. She missed him holding her, kissing her, loving her.

She missed being able to love him.

She sighed heavily. She wanted so much for everything to be the way it was and she completely regretted ever having doubted him. She felt a shiver run down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself, leaning back against the arm of the couch and stretching her legs out in front of her.

She heard the door open and she sprang up from the cushions, eager to learn what Will had found out. He gave her a smile as she gave him a quick hug.

"So what happened?"

"You were right," Will told her, smiling when her face lit up, "about everything. They only took the Rambaldi manuscript that you mentioned."

Sydney let out a sigh of relief. "And you went to see—"

"Marshall, yeah, and I have the coordinates of where they are." Will produced the paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

Looking it over, she said, "They're at Sloane's villa. I have to get going."

Will nodded.

"Did anyone suspect you at all? That you might have been doing this out of more than just a general curiosity?" Sydney asked, biting her lip nervously.

"Nope," Will told her, "and I'm actually going with Marshall and a few others to a ball game next week as sort of a 'getting-to-know-the-people-you-work-with-better' sort of thing."

Sydney grinned. "I'm glad you befriended him. He's a total sweetheart, but he's just sort of shy, you know?"

"Yeah," Will said with a smile. "You better get going," he told her, patting her shoulder.

Sydney nodded and looked up at him, into his soft blue eyes. "Thank you so much for doing this, you're amazing." She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, sighing contentedly when his comforting arms went around her and she felt his warm breath against her ear.

"Be careful, all right?" he whispered, hugging her tighter.

"I will," Sydney assured him as she stepped back and looked into his eyes again. She placed a kiss next to the side of his mouth and smiled up at him. "I love you for being my friend with all of this, for helping me through it, and for helping me through the things I've had to deal with before. I just want you to know that."

"I know," Will said quietly, giving her a small smile. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose.

Sydney gave him one last hug and ventured to the door for her suitcase. She sighed a little, then made her way out to her car.