Syrina
Chapter Three
Egyptian
Syrina flipped her chin length black hair out of her eyes. She hated wigs. They always made her scalp itch. But disguise was one of the best ways to ensure her success tonight. She'd placed blue contacts in her eyes and outlined the rims like an Egyptian. The party in Italy was, of course, a costume party. She wore a plain linen shift with elaborate jewelry, which doubled as a decoder, a weapon, and a communication link with Sark. They were both dressed as Egyptians and for such odd disguises, they blended right in. Sark took a hold of her arm as he considered how ecstatic he was to be back in action. He'd missed the thrill of chasing after something, being in power of his life. He liked to have control. Of course, he despised the ridiculous costume he was in, but he wanted to meld into the crowd of insane partygoers, not stand out. He nodded to several people who passed drunkenly by and handed Syrina a champagne flute.
"Wait five minutes before you go upstairs. I intend to distract the guards. Are you ready for this?"
"Yes, Sark."
He smiled slightly in amusement, though Syrina took it as a condescending smirk. Syrina only addressed him as Sark when she was annoyed with him. "I haven't seen you for several years, Syri." He started as an explanation.
"And I've managed just fine without you. I found part of The Telling on my own. I retrieved it on my own. I got you out of CIA custody ON-MY-OWN!"
She emphasized each on my own. "I can do this just fine. ON-MY-OWN."
He put his hands up in mock surrender, realizing he should have known better than to doubt Syrina Khasinau's talent. She'd always been a natural.
"Syri, I was just making sure, all right?"
Sure, Syrina thought, now he tries to mend fences with me. She harrumphed at him and waved him away from her.
"The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can leave. I have a bad feeling about tonight."
That was what worried Sark. Syrina was often plagued with premonition-like feelings. If she was feeling bad about this, she probably had a right to. Syrina strutted across the gigantic ballroom, an air of confidence around her. She'd really grown up in the two years he'd missed. Just as she walked away, Sydney and Weiss entered, dressed as Sonny and Cher.
Sark had kept his eyes on the entrances while he waited for Syrina to get into place. He hadn't seen Sydney enter yet and that gave him a bit of hope. Maybe she wouldn't come. Maybe she hadn't heard about The Two.
"I'm ready, Andrew." Syrina's voice whispered into his earpiece.
Sark cried out as he fell to the ground. He rolled his eyes back into his head and shivered. A whole group of attendees stopped what they were doing and surrounded Sark. One came forward, holding him down as he shook.
"I'm upstairs." Syrina muttered. Sark let his shaking continue for a few more minutes before he stopped. He opened his eyes and sighed in exhaustion. He acted like he'd just noticed the crowd around him and blushed appropriately. "Seizures. I apologize for the disruption."
"Are you okay, Signor?" One waiter asked.
"Of course. I've lived with these all my life. I'll be fine."
Sydney saw a man collapse in front of her. He wore a costume, but she recognized him instantly. Sark was here. She used his distraction to her advantage and hurried across the ballroom to the stairs. The guards were both gone. Sydney smiled to herself and quickly opened the door, sliding down the corridor.
Syrina removed her necklace and unscrewed the first part. It was her decoder. She ran her hands deftly over the wall and instantly felt the almost undetectable line where the wall had been cut out. She pressed on the bottom and felt it unlatch. She pushed the square wall section away and a metal safe stared back at her. She placed the necklace piece over the keypad and waited for the combination to show up. She punched in the number and opened the safe. Inside was a box. It had wooden slats and looked fairly crude for a box. Burned on the side was the Rambaldi 0. Syrina grinned at the accomplishment and pulled it out. She'd found The Two. She pried the box open with a silver letter opener on the desk. The lid clattered to the ground and inside laid the last brittle page of The Telling. She rolled it up and slid it into her pouch on her golden belt, turning to leave. Unfortunately, she hadn't heard Sydney stop in front of the doorway.
"Nice of you to do all the hard work for me." Sydney said calmly.
Syrina shrugged. "You think that was hard?" It was a mixture of taunting and disbelief. Sydney stood directly in front of the door, challenging Syrina. Syrina scanned the room for another exit, but found the study completely windowless. Besides, she didn't want to jump from the third story, but she could if she had to. Syrina placed her hand on the desk in front of her, her other hand wrapping around the wooden Rambaldi box.
"Just give me the page, Khasinau."
"Sorry, Bristow, but I can't do that."
Syrina tossed the box across the room with a sudden force that surprised Sydney. Sydney ducked to avoid the crashing box and jumped away. Syrina took the opportunity to dash out of the study. Sydney grabbed her arm as she reached the hallway and pulled her back. Syrina jumped over Sydney's outstretched leg, then ducked when Sydney punched. Syrina brought her arm up in a right hook, smashing into Sydney's jaw. Sydney grabbed Syrina's arm and twisted it into a painfully awkward position as Syrina kicked her knee into Sydney's stomach. Sydney doubled over and Syrina chopped Sydney in the back of the neck. She kicked Sydney's legs out from under her and Sydney collapsed flat on the ground. Syrina felt a small sense of satisfaction at beating Sydney up. Syrina sprinted away from Sydney and disappeared into the crowded room.
"Darling, I heard about your seizures. I'm so sorry I wasn't here." Syrina said as she broke through the crowd that covered Sark.
"It's quite all right, Precious."
"What have I told you about leaving home without your medication?" Syrina placed an adoring arm around Sark's neck and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
"You scared me!" She scolded.
"I'm sorry, Precious. I promise I won't leave home without it anymore."
Syrina stepped back and helped Sark out of the chair. "We must go home now. You need your rest."
Syrina excused them from the group of people and the two walked out of the huge mansion without anyone else thinking to stop them.