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:This is the part where I offer a huge apology to all of you who have been faithfully reading this story. I'm sorry about the weeks-long delay in posting this chapter. My only excuse is that the real world completely took over my free time for a while. However, I'm back to writing every day and hopefully will be posting weekly through the end of the story.
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Vaughn had a decent dating record. Over the years, he had classified more first dates as successes than not, a success being a woman he would ask out a second time. Nurse Nancy from the hospital had started out promising, but while sitting across from her -- much too nauseous to touch his food -- Vaughn had to admit she had taken an unrecoverable dive into the negative column.
As soon as he and Weiss had handed the van and surveillance of Sydney to the next set of agents, he had picked up Nancy for an early dinner, before the start of her night shift. He had taken her to a nice Greek restaurant, and after the initial awkward silence, they seemed to be getting on fine. Then she started telling stories about the ER, and no matter how many times Vaughn changed the subject, she always came back to another gruesome tale of exploding internal organs or car accident victims. At that point, Vaughn admitted defeat -- he would not ask her out again -- and simply tried to get through the evening.
To make matters worse, his thoughts kept wandering to another woman. To Sydney Hecht. Weiss had accused him of falling for her, but that simply wasn't true. Sure, she was attractive, smart and interesting. Her strength of character had earned his admiration and respect, but it didn't go beyond that. His regard for her was purely professional. Right?
Right?
Meanwhile, Nancy sat across the table from him, tossing her curly hair, adjusting her blouse to give him a good view of her cleavage, and chatting about ER operations with her mouth full.
"So then," she said between bites of potato, "the guy threw up all over me. I mean, right down my white shirt. There were these bits of hot dog and stuff that were sticking to me, and --"
Vaughn's cell phone rang. He silently thanked whoever was calling and thumbed the talk button. "Hello?"
"Agent Vaughn, this is Agent Roger Miller calling in to report."
"Just a minute," he said. Vaughn had left Miller and another agent in the van with instructions to contact him every hour, so Vaughn wasn't worried. Mostly, he was thankful for the break from Nancy, whom he looked to politely. "It's a call from work that I need to take in private. Do you mind?"
"Not at all," she said, and scarfed more potatoes into her mouth. "Take your time."
"I'll be right back." He went to the back of the restaurant, by the restrooms and pay phones. "What do you have to report?"
"Only that Mrs. Hecht left her house about 15 minutes ago, by car."
"Was she alone?"
"Yes. We followed, but we lost sight of her about three miles from her house."
"You what?" Vaughn sputtered, trying to keep his voice low. "You lost her? What about the tracking device?"
"We used it to catch up with her, sir," Miller said quickly. "Her car was out of our sight for only about three minutes. We tracked her to an apartment. Her vehicle was parked out front."
"Did you run a check on the apartment occupant?"
"We did. It's leased to a Francine Calfo."
"Francie is her best friend. Sydney is still there?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right. Call me when she leaves. And don't, under any circumstances, let her out of your sight again."
Vaughn hung up, took a deep breath and smiled at Nancy, who was watching him from across the restaurant. "Once more into the breach," he muttered, and headed back to the table.
#
When Sydney reached the entrance to the mall, she almost turned right back around to leave. What had possessed her to come here, anyway, and alone no less? It defied all logic, but in her heart, she knew why. It had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with an inborn yearning of every human being: She wanted her mother back. Sydney understood that, as she understood that Irina was probably counting on such a reaction to draw her here.
She only hoped she wasn't walking into a trap. She felt out of depth here and desperately wanted to know Vaughn was close by to keep her safe. If she had dared to bring the CIA into this, though, Irina would vanish before a word could be spoken. This was the only way.
From her purse, she pulled out the one thing that might make this risk worthwhile: a small tape recorder, the type that reporters used. Will had left it at the house and had never bothered to take it back, so it had collected dust on the top of the refrigerator for months -- at least until Sydney had found it not a half-hour before. She punched the record button and set back in her purse.
Then with a deep breath, she pushed open the doors and entered the food court. It was crowded, as she had expected on a weekend before Christmas, but she had no trouble spotting Irina, who was watching her from the same table Sydney had seen her at before. No turning back now, she thought.
Irina smiled, almost affectionately, as Sydney slid into the seat across from her. She had her hair pulled into a loose ponytail, revealing the strong jaw line that Sydney knew she herself also had. Looking at them now, no one could deny their blood ties.
"Thank you for coming," Irina said softly. She had the same quiet intensity as the night before but had muted the awful edge of danger in her manner, for which Sydney was thankful.
"Weren't you afraid I wouldn't figure out your message?"
"No. I was more concerned that you wouldn't lose your CIA watchdogs, but if they were here, I would be in custody by now. How did you do it?"
"I called my friend Francie to ask if I could switch cars with her, then made enough turns that I lost the agents long enough to meet Francie outside her building and get back on the road."
She remembered her friend's confused look as she had handed over her keys. Francie had tried to ask questions, but Sydney had cut her off with a promise to explain later. She only hoped to come up with a suitable reason why her own car hadn't been good enough.
Irina leaned forward with intense interest. "And the homing device?"
"How do you know about that?"
"There's always a homing device."
Sydney shifted uncomfortably -- she didn't know whether to take Irina at her word on that or whether she had been watching when Jack had given Sydney the tracker.
She said, "I dropped it as I was getting into Francie's car. As I drove away, I saw Francie pick it up and take it inside with her."
Irina smiled proudly. "Very good work, Sydney. I'm impressed."
"I don't need your praise. I need to know why you asked me here."
"You know why. I want you to come with me when I leave Los Angeles."
Sydney shook her head. "I'm a school teacher. Not a spy. I deal with students and essays, not guns and espionage."
"That's because you've never tried. Haven't you ever been curious in the least what it would be like to live a more exciting life?"
"Of course, but --"
"You have talent, and good instincts that cannot be learned. You either have them, or you don't. It's in your blood, Sydney. You lost those agents with efficiency I rarely see in those with years of experience in such matters."
"I'm married. I have friends here, and a life."
"And no mother."
Sydney got angry at that. "How dare you use that against me. I have no mother because of what you did, and when you leave again, that will be your fault, too."
Irina gave her a sad look and said, "I'm sorry, Sydney. I know an apology doesn't make up for the years we have lost, but we can have a future. Give me a chance to earn your trust."
"Trust?" Sydney scoffed. "Just last night you trapped me in a bathroom, killed one CIA agent and almost killed another. And you talk to me about trust?"
Sydney expected Irina to react with anger, but instead she merely smiled with a certainty that gave Sydney goosebumps.
"You're here," Irina said, "which means you want to give me a chance. You want an explanation for why I killed that agent? He spotted me, and I had to make a quick decision before he had the opportunity to contact others. My line of work is like that. Sometimes one's actions involve life or death."
"You're a murderer. Why should I trust you?"
"Because I have not lied to you yet, Sydney. You want answers? Ask any question you like, and you will have your answers. And unlike some people, I will be truthful."
Like my father, Sydney thought, and pushed the thought aside. That was the reaction Irina wanted, but Sydney wouldn't let this woman pull her strings. She licked her dry lips and hoped the tape recorder was working properly.
"What's your real purpose in Los Angeles?"
Irina sat stone still for a moment -- in surprise, Sydney thought -- then pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair, but her eyes never wavered from Sydney's. "There is no easy answer to that."
"I'll take a hard answer, then."
Irina's mouth twitched in a smile and she nodded once. "I see I've worked myself into a corner. Very well. The answer is this: I was here to steal something from the CIA. Something valuable."
"Steal what?"
"A box. A very old box."
"I don't understand," Sydney said. "All of this -- your captivity and the manhunt, death and everything that has turned my life upside down -- is about a box?"
"That box is the key to something much larger. Something that could change the power structure of the world as we know it. This is an exciting time to be alive, Sydney, and I can make you part of it, bring you into the inner circle." She reached one hand across the table, palm up. "Just take my hand, and I will show you things you've only dreamed of."
Sydney felt her muscles contracting of their own volition, raising her hand from her lap and above the table. Then she paused. Her mother's offer was the excitement Sydney felt she had been waiting for her entire life, and yet ... was it? Irina was one of the bad guys, and if Sydney went with her, the guilt would sink her spirit.
"I can't," she said finally. "Not like this."
With an unreadable expression, Irina withdrew her hand, and the offer. Sydney felt like crying, but instead she stood and pulled her purse strap over her shoulder.
"I have to go."
"I understand."
She turned to go.
"Sydney."
She stopped but didn't look back.
"Take care of yourself," Irina said. "And I want you to know that no matter what has happened between us, I have always loved you. Don't ever doubt that."
Sydney wanted so much to turn around, change her mind and just go with her mother, but what she wanted could never be. The cruelty of it caused tears to run down her cheeks, but she wouldn't let Irina see. No never that. Instead, with sight blurred, she walked away and farther into the mall.
Finally, she stopped to pull a tissue from her purse and to shut off the tape recorder. She didn't feel like going back to Francie's yet, so she kept walking. Irina might be following her, but she didn't really care. So much anger and confusion built up inside her that she felt little else.
She walked faster, faster, felt like sprinting down the halls and bowling over whoever got in her way. She needed to scream. She needed to spill out her frustrations, but she had no one to listen. Danny, Francie and Will couldn't be brought into it, and her father was gone on some mission. But she needed to let these emotions out before she burst.
She pulled out her CIA phone and dialed the only person who could help her.
"Agent Vaughn here."
Sydney tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out.
"Hello?" Vaughn asked. "Hello? Is someone there?"
"Vaughn, it's me," she said finally.
"Sydney?" he said, sounding alarmed. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Vaughn, would you --" She stopped. Maybe asking him this wasn't right. Maybe she should suppress her selfish need to talk, apologize and hang up.
"Sydney, what's going on?"
She took a slow breath and tried again. "Would you meet me at the warehouse? I can tell you what's going on then."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
At those words, tension left her in waves.
"Thank you," she said, and hung up.
She went out an exit far from the food court, just in case Irina was still waiting for her to change her mind and come back, and hurried to Francie's car.
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