Title: Into the Deep
Author: Jennifer Campbell
Fandom: Alias
Spoilers: General season 2
Pairings: Sydney/Danny, Sydney/Vaughn
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: The show Alias and its characters belong to
people with a lot more money than I have. Please don't sue.
Notes: Again, thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Reviews make me a happy writer who writes more quickly, so keep 'em coming. Thank you to Neptune for the beta on this chapter.
##
"Sark here."
"Analysis has come back. The CIA had only half the code. This is a setback I hadn't anticipated."
"Interesting. Do they know they're missing information?"
"Probably not, but there's no way to know for sure. According to our intell, there's a second box. We need to find it."
"And the reason you're telling me this is because ..."
"It's possible SD-6 knows its location."
"That's what I thought. I'll check into it. And the other matter you had to take care of?"
"The CIA is watching my daughter very closely now. This changes the situation."
"You still plan to contact her, though."
"Of course, but now I must do it when the CIA has its back turned. I have plans for Sydney. I won't give them up so easily."
#
Vaughn thought about his new assignment -- watching Agent Bristow's daughter -- as he ate breakfast, as he shaved and as he drove to work that morning. He had a difficult time thinking of anything else. He had been assigned to watch other people before, but Sydney Bristow -- no, Sydney Hecht -- had affected him like no other. Most people, after finding out a loved one was CIA and they were the possible target of a dangerous plot, would become hysterical. But Sydney, so much like her father, had the unique gift of setting aside her emotions and working through the problem.
And she trusted him. That affected him more than anything else. They had met only yesterday, yet she had willingly put her safety into his hands.
He also thought about last night's meeting, and how Jack had given his daughter only crumbs of information. Half-truths. He had told Sydney about Irina Derevko, but not that Derevko was her mother. He had told her about the CIA but not about SD-6. Vaughn had to trust the senior agent to know what was best for his own daughter, but the lying left Vaughn with a bitter aftertaste. He hoped the omissions didn't get Sydney into trouble.
Once at work, Vaughn hardly had time to hang up his coat and grab a cup of coffee before Devlin called him into his office. The CIA director and Jack were already there, deep in conversation, when he walked in. Devlin looked up and waved Vaughn inside.
"Shut the door," he said, and Vaughn complied. "I was just telling Jack that we think we know what information it was that Derevko stole. It was intell on a Rambaldi artifact we recovered before SD-6 could get their hands on it. It's a small wooden box with carvings of symbols on the lid and sides. Nothing inside it. What's interesting is that the carvings appear to be a code of some kind."
"A code for what?" Vaughn asked.
"We're not sure," Jack answered. "No one has been able to decipher it."
Devlin said, "But we loaded all the information onto the computers for further study, complete with scans of the box. And now Derevko has that information."
Vaughn closed his eyes and thought it through. "So you're saying she turned herself into the CIA and endured weeks behind bars all so she could eventually find a way out and steal that information?"
"So it seems," Devlin said. "What she apparently didn't know is that there is a second box, and we have that one too, safe in our warehouses. I'm hoping that even if she does have a way of decoding those symbols, it won't be enough. She'll need the other box."
"And why are you telling me?" Vaughn asked. "My only responsibility in all this is to watch Jack's daughter, and surely she has nothing to do with these boxes."
"No, but I do," Jack said. "Irina will realize that either the CIA or SD-6 must know where the box is, and she knows I am in both organizations. So getting to me is the fastest way to get to the box."
"We think she might hold Jack's daughter for ransom against the intelligence she needs," Devlin said. "That might be why Derevko is showing an interest in Sydney."
Vaughn said, "So this has now become a matter of protection, not just surveillance."
"Correct," Devlin said.
"How do know that Sydney could be the target of a kidnapping? Is there some new information?"
"None," Jack said. "We have nothing concrete on Derevko. All we can do is act on what we think she is likely to do, but even that is not totally reliable."
Vaughn said, "Has it occurred to anyone that maybe Derevko just wants to get reacquainted with her daughter?"
"The timing is too coincidental," Jack said, shaking his head. "Wasn't it you who said yesterday that she has had twenty years to contact Sydney? Why now?"
"Because, as you pointed out, Sydney is vulnerable and Derevko knows it," Vaughn shot back.
"Enough," Devlin said. "The fact is, we don't know Derevko's motives. All we know is that she might make a play for Sydney. Which is why I want surveillance stepped up. Two agents watching Jack's daughter at all times. If Derevko shows, don't wait for backup. Go after her immediately."
"Yes, sir," Vaughn said.
"That's all, Agent Vaughn."
He nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Jack and Devlin were still inside, probably discussing the details of the stolen information. Vaughn pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
"Weiss here."
"Eric, it's Michael."
"Good morning. I hope you're calling to tell me that my replacement is on the way. This has got to be one of the most boring nights of my life, sitting outside the Hecht's house. I'm at the school now."
"Any sign of Derevko?"
"None."
"OK. I'm on my way."
Vaughn hung up and pulled his coat back on. As he walked out to his car, he called another agent on the team to meet him at the school. Guess it would be another day of field work, and hopefully less exciting than yesterday.
#
Sydney forgot to set the alarm and woke up at a quarter to 8, with Danny snoring beside her. She had a moment of grogginess as she reached for the clock, then yelled "Dammit!" as she jumped out of bed and raced for the closet.
"What is it?" Danny muttered sleepily.
"We're late," she answered as she practically ripped clothes off their hangers. She threw a shirt and slacks at Danny. "Class starts in 15 minutes."
"And I have an 8:15 meeting. Damn."
Sydney pulled on her only unwrinkled dress -- a strappy sundress that was a little too flirty for school -- and buttoned up a sweater over the top. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and hoped no one would notice her lack of a shower. Danny delivered to the bathroom a breakfast bar and a glass of orange juice, for which she was grateful. And they made it out the front door by 7:55. First bell was in five minutes, but class wouldn't officially start until 10 minutes after that. She just might make it on time.
Her classroom was already half-filled when she walked in, and one student in particular, sitting at her desk, looked miffed at her late arrival.
"Jason," Sydney said, out of breath. "I'm so sorry. I overslept."
"Yeah. Whatever."
"Can we talk at lunch? I have class now, and I'm sure you have a class to get to."
"Sure, lunchtime is fine. Are you going to be here?"
"Promise."
Jason left. The bell rang, and Sydney's day began.
All morning, nothing seemed to go right. She couldn't get her freshman class to settle down enough to listen fully to her lecture and had to send two girls to the principal's office when a fight broke out. Next period, nothing obvious went wrong, but Sydney never did quite get into her groove.
Then came her free period, and she settled in for an hour of grading papers. She couldn't keep her mind on the essays, though, and her eyes kept drifting toward the window. She half- expected to see Irina Derevko staring back at her. Or maybe Agent Vaughn. Would Derevko dare to come into the school building in her quest for revenge against Sydney's father? Would Sydney even see her again now that the CIA was watching?
The bell rang, startling her from her thoughts. Sydney glanced down at her pile of paperwork and groaned. She had graded only two essays in an hour. She had to stop worrying so much and get her head back into her work. Nothing would happen to her while Vaughn and his agents were on the job.
She met with Jason at lunchtime and changed his grade from a D to a C, more for the obvious preparation of his arguments than for the merits of his test. Then she dropped by the office mailboxes, as she hadn't had time before classes began. It was the normal assortment of newsletters and notices, but one envelope caught her attention. It was white and unmarked. She opened it and read the note within:
"She hasn't shown. By the way, I like your dress."
Sydney grinned. No one but Agent Vaughn could have left that for her. She had no clue how he had managed to sneak it into her mailbox, but she really didn't care. It eased her fears to know he was keeping watch.
"Syd, hi," said a voice behind her, and Sydney turned around to see one of her fellow teachers also checking her box.
"Hi, Grace," Sydney said. "How's your day going?"
"Oh, fine. Normal. But you must be having a good day. You look like you just won the lottery."
"I got some good news," Sydney said, while folding up the note and tucking it back in its envelope. She'd shred it as soon as she had an opportunity, of course. But not yet.
The next few days continued much in the same way. Sydney went about her daily life of school, grocery shopping, kickboxing class. Occasionally she found Vaughn's notes --in her school mailbox, on her car windshield disguised as a ticket, once even in the mailbox at home. Those notes gave her confidence. She began to regard their stealth as a game, that Vaughn was sending her a covert mission orders, or even messages from a secret lover.
If Derevko had made more appearances, Sydney knew she wouldn't be so unconcerned; however, there hadn't been one confirmed sighting since that day at the mall. One afternoon at the grocery store, two days after the warehouse meeting, Sydney caught a glimpse of what could have been her brown-haired watcher, but when she looked closer, the woman was gone. She chalked it up to her active imagination. Maybe her CIA tails had scared off Derevko and the danger was over.
The week passed quickly. On Friday evening, Danny made their usual reservations at the Italian restaurant down the street. They arrived promptly at 7, and as a waiter guided them to their table, Sydney scanned the room for anything suspicious. It had become a habit of hers the past few days, although she didn't really know what to look for. She spotted Agent Vaughn at the bar. He didn't acknowledge her, but she relaxed just knowing he was there.
Sydney settled into the booth across from Danny, and the waiter set down coasters with glasses of water. He slid two menus onto the table, but Danny gestured for him to take them back.
"We already know what we're having," Danny said. "Two lasagnas, breadsticks and two cokes."
"Actually," Sydney broke in. "I think I'll have the eggplant parmesan tonight."
The waiter nodded and left. Danny gave her a strange look.
"You always get the lasagna."
"Maybe I feel like a change," she said lightly. "The same thing week after week gets boring after awhile."
"Not for me," Danny answered, and took a sip of water. "I like to order what I already know will be good."
The waiter soon returned with their breadsticks. Danny grabbed for one and talked about his work between bites. As always, Sydney tried hard to look attentive. Danny loved his job so much, but Sydney had a tough time being interested in people she had never met.
"So then George got the promotion," Danny said. "Can you believe it? They put him in charge of the entire department, even after that stunt he pulled last month."
"Uh huh," Sydney said, and her eyes wandered. She noticed that Agent Vaughn had vanished from the bar area. That didn't worry her too much. He probably had moved to some other spot inside the restaurant.
"Sydney? Sydney?" Danny touched her hand across the table and Sydney smiled at him. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you."
"I'm sorry, hon. I'm just a little distracted."
He looked hurt. "It's all right. Wasn't that interesting anyway."
She squeezed his hand. "Listen, I'm sorry. Really I am. I'm going to go freshen up, and when I get back, you'll have my complete attention, and we'll have a nice, relaxing dinner together. OK?"
She grabbed her purse and made her way to the ladies' room. It was a small facility, with only two stalls and barely enough space to move around, but it practically sparkled with cleanliness.
Sydney had the restroom to herself, so she took her time brushing her hair. She dug into her purse for her lipstick and instead found other things, not so pleasant -- a serrated kitchen knife and a small spray bottle of mace. Her CIA issue phone was there, too. She pushed those aside and found her lipstick underneath.
After putting everything back in her purse and setting the purse on a small counter beside the sink, Sydney turned on the cold water and splashed it into her eyes. Maybe that would help her find her focus. She blinked, wiped her face clean with a paper towel and glanced up at the mirror. Someone was standing directly behind her.
She gasped and spun around. The woman smiled, but with no amusement.
"Sydney," she said. Her voice was soft and raspy.
"You're Irina Derevko," Sydney tried to keep from trembling but failed.
The woman's smile broadened. The coldness in her eyes gave Sydney goosebumps. "So they told you my name. What else did they tell you, Sydney?"
"N- Nothing," she stammered as she assessed her situation. Irina had positioned herself between Sydney and the door, and Sydney didn't have enough room to maneuver around her. With her back pressed against the sink, she was effectively trapped.
"I don't believe you." Irina stepped forward, leaving Sydney even less room.
"I'll scream."
"That would be bad for your health, I think." She set one hand on the sink beside Sydney's hip. "Because, you see, if you scream, I'll have to hurt you."
Sydney pushed down her panic. "There's a CIA agent in the restaurant. As soon as Agent Vaughn realizes I've been in here too long, he'll come looking."
"Agent Vaughn. Is he the tall handsome one with light brown hair?" Irina gave her a tight-lipped smile. "He won't be bothering us. So I'll ask you again. What did the CIA tell you about me? And I wouldn't advise lying. I'll know if you're lying."
Sydney didn't doubt that, and with no other options, she told the truth. "I know that you're former KGB and that you run an espionage organization. You were in CIA custody but escaped last week. And you want to take revenge against Jack Bristow."
"Your father, yes." Irina said intently. "Did he tell you all this?"
"No."
"Of course he did. Did he tell you anything else?"
Sydney shook her head.
Irina tapped her fingers against the sink. "Half-truths are so dangerous. Nothing about them is incorrect, and yet they are not the entire story."
"What did you do to Agent Vaughn?" Sydney demanded. "If you hurt him in any way --"
"You'll do what? You have no formal training. But I do. You wouldn't last a second." She tilted her head and looked into Sydney's eyes. "If you had talked back to me like that as a child I would have spanked you and sent you to your room."
Sydney gulped hard. What the hell was she talking about? She spoke like a mother to a child, but Sydney's mother died twenty years ago. Perhaps Irina Derevko was insane as well as dangerous.
"You don't believe me," Irina said, and shook her head. "I don't blame you. You've thought all these years that your mother was dead, and I've offered no proof to counter that."
She backed away a step and picked up her purse from the floor, which Sydney hadn't noticed before. With slow, precise movements, Irina put her hand in the bag and pulled out something small and brown. She held it out to Sydney, who hesitated.
"Go ahead. It won't bite."
Sydney took it, turned it over and her eyes started to water. It was a stuffed bear. One eye was missing, and patches of fur were lost to age. How had this woman found one that looked so much like the one Sydney used to have?
"You remember this, don't you, Sydney? I took it when I left. It sounds overly sentimental, I know, but I wanted something to remember you by. And you loved that bear so much. You took him everywhere. Do you remember?"
Sydney wiped her eyes. Irina was watching her, a hint of sorrow in her expression -- the first emotion Sydney had seen there. She looked harder, and she suddenly knew why Irina Derevko looked so familiar. She was an older reflection of herself. Sydney stifled a sob.
"Mom?"
##
TBC ...
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