Weeks later, Anna was startled when the door to Irina's home slammed shut. In walked Andrew Sark, and in mere moments his suit jacket had been discarded on a kitchen chair. Anna found him sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. From his appearance, she knew immediately what was bothering him.
Sydney Bristow.
She was the only woman on the face of this earth who irked Andrew in such a huge way. She was the only woman who could penetrate his tough exterior. Of course, Sydney would never see him break, he would never allow it. Anna, however, had seen the profound effect she had on him.
It made her hate Sydney even more.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked, and he immediately dropped his hands to rest on the table, looking at her with the same smirk on his face, though his eyes remained troubled.
"What makes you think something's wrong Anna?" he asked.
"You had a run in with her again didn't you?" she demanded, sitting beside him at the table. He sighed, admitting defeat.
"Not so much. I didn't see her, but I know she was there," Sark answered, placing his hands over his face again.
"At the launch," Anna finished for him.
"Yes, at the launch," he answered, slightly annoyed, "I don't know how she does it. I covered all my bases. I don't know how she got past security." He seemed to drift into his own thoughts for a moment, until Anna's loud sigh snapped him back into reality.
"What does it matter? She obviously placed a device on the satellite, enabling her and her precious CIA to see everything we're seeing. What's done is done Andrew," Anna said.
"She will be going after the music box," he said, looking at Anna pointedly. Anna's ears perked up at this.
"I can stop her," she said suddenly, and Sark mentally noted her eager tone.
"That won't be necessary. I will be going for the music box myself," he said, standing up. Anna followed him down the hallway.
"Then I'm going with you," she shouted.
"No, you're not Anna," he said, turning around to look at her.
"Andrew, I'm..."
"You're not going Anna. End of discussion," he said, and as he turned his back to her, he couldn't help smiling at her childish scowl.
*****
Sydney listened intently as the music box played music. It amazed her that such an important code was held within the series of notes she was hearing. The music ended just as quickly as it had begun.
"Okay, that's it. Confirm you've got the recording, I'm ready to destroy the music box," Sydney spoke into her comlink.
"Affirmative. We've got the recording," Vaughn spoke. Sydney spoke again, then proceeded to spray a solution on the music box, causing it to dissolve and rust instantly. She turned on her other comlink, connecting her with SD-6 again, and shuddered when she heard Dixon's frightened voice.
"Sydney! Do you copy?!"
"I read you, Dixon. What's wrong?" she asked.
"Get out of there, Sark's here!" he shouted, and Sydney's eyes widened. She picked up the case with the destroyed music box and turned around, coming face to face with Sark and his gun.
"Put the case down," he demanded, his face devoid of its usual smirk. She complied instantly.
"Slide it over," he said, to which she kicked it over the ice to where he was standing. He looked at her pointedly, his familiar smirk suddenly stretching across his face.
"It was you giving us problems at the launch. I'd offer you passage back to civilization but my submersible only seats four," he said. She looked over him for a moment before smirking.
"It's the thought that counts," she spoke, before whipping a pick axe in his direction. He cried out in pain as it sunk into his left thigh. He fell backward, but shot his gun as he fell to the ground. Sydney ran to escape, but fell through the ice as his bullets penetrated the icy surface. He gasped as the ice closed over her, and watched in horror as she rose to the surface, banging on the ice. He moved to break the ice, not exactly sure of his motivation to save her. He was interrupted by a voice in his comlink.
"Andrew! Get out of there! Agent Dixon is on his way back in there!" Anna Khasinau yelled. Sark's eyes grew angry at her use of his first name, undoubtedly in the presence of his employees.
"Anna! I told you not to follow me here!" he screamed, hesitant to leave Sydney, who was still hammering on the ice.
"Leave her Andrew," Anna hissed. He immediately raced out of the cave, seeing Anna in the distance with another submersible. When she noticed the blood pouring from his leg, she assisted him into the vehicle.
"Where are my agents?" he demanded, looking at her.
"I sent them ahead of us. Did you get the music box?" she asked. He pointed to his bag, indicating that he had gotten it.
"Good!" she yelled.
"Just shut up and drive," he sighed, sinking into his seat, "Don't call me Andrew again." She only scowled, but did not argue, and Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as they settled into silence. The only thing on his mind was Sydney.
He could only pray she had escaped that icy hell.
He shuddered at the thought.
Since when had he cared?
*****
Days later, Anna was waiting for Sark to return to the house, and was growing impatient.
He was supposed to be home hours ago. Moments later, he came into the house, two security guards following him. He sighed when he noticed Anna's presence.
"Waiting up for me I suppose Khasinau?"
"Where were you?" she demanded, inches from his face. She looked to the security guards who remained close to Sark. She sighed loudly. "Can you tell these goons to back off so you and I can have a discussion?" she demanded. Sark waved the man off, and they both nodded, leaving the room.
"What happened to you?" she asked, noting a small scratch on his head.
"I was with Richter, trying to get the 'The Bible' from him, and Sloane's men bloody attacked me," he said. Anna looked at him questioningly.
"I thought the CIA had 'The Bible'" Anna spoke, looking at him pointedly. He stepped back from her, recognizing his blunder. Anna still thought that Sydney had killed Khasinau, taking 'The Bible' with her to the CIA. He struggled to cover Irina's back quickly.
"They did. Irina's men got it back and turned it over to Richter. At least that's what Irina told me," he said, meeting her gaze.
"That's strange. She didn't tell me about that," Anna said, doubt filling her voice.
"Well," Sark began, changing the subject, " Now SD-6 had Richter, and they will interrogate him."
"Oh God. What if they get 'The Bible'?" Anna gasped.
"They won't," Sark answered quickly.
"What makes you so sure?"
"Richter has the virus. He'll die within days," Sark said, his face stoic.
"Oh," Anna said, looking down at the floor. Her gaze shifted to his injured leg. He followed her gaze.
"It's fine," he said.
"I'll be the judge of that," she answered, "Let me see it."
"Anna..."
"Just let me see it," she demanded, leading him to sit on the couch in the living room. He complied, but not without comment.
"I thought you didn't want me to touch you," he said.
"You're not touching me. I'm touching you. Now shut up," she said, and he helped her lift his pant leg to get a good look at the injury. It was healing nicely, but she could tell from his face that even the slightest touch hurt. She touched it tenderly, and he sighed at the touch. He had almost forgotten how good her fingers felt on his skin. He looked up into her eyes, and he smiled as her icy gaze visibly softened.
"It looks good," she said, breaking the moment of tenderness. He cleared his throat.
"I always look good," he spoke, and as she prepared to remove her hand from his leg, he grabbed her wrist.
"Hey," she protested, but paused when he looked at her.
"Don't tell me not to touch you," he whispered, his mouth within inches from her own.
"Don't touch me," she said, though their faces came closer to one another.
"If I believed that you didn't want me to, you wouldn't be looking at me like that," he said, stroking her cheek.
"Like what?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Like that night in Moscow," he said.
"That night...was...a long time ago," she said, shifting her gaze to the floor. He retaliated quickly, lifting her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his own.
"But you haven't forgotten," he said, his eyes piercing hers. She gasped, and began to speak, but he silenced her by placing a finger over her mouth.
"I haven't either," he said, and he kissed her roughly on her lips.
Moments later as he carried her out of the room, a single thought crossed Anna's mind. Was he thinking of Sydney Bristow?
She quickly erased it.