"I'm in"

Sydney Bristow entered an unknown club somewhere in France. The smell of alcohol, sweat and sex assaulting her nostrils.

Dressed in black leather pants, a barely there halter-neck top and a long red wig she couldn't be distinguished from the other bodies dancing on the dance floor. To nearly everyone else there she didn't seem to stand out. Nearly everyone.

Two people watched her as she slipped into a back entrance, which lead to a series of secret passages under the club.

"Mountaineer, do you read me?"

"Copy that, reading you loud and clear."

Her voice echoed in the ear of a tall, lithe figure leaning against the bar. Clad in jeans, a black T-shirt and a leather jacket, this man didn't stand out in the smoky room either. Well, to all but one.

A pair of familiar green eyes watched over the door Sydney had just slipped through.

"Going radio silent."

The voice sounded again.

"Copy that.good luck."

The man muttered silently, turning back to his drink.

Smiling an unknown figure took his distraction as an opportunity, slipping through the door after Sydney.

Unnoticed.

Unwatched.

Unknown.