A/N: Thanks for the encouragement you guys! And thanks to my betas for loving this so much that they don't ever want to change anything (hehe). Oh, and when I finish this I will be making a soundtrack for all of y'all. It'll most likely just be the songs that I put at the beginning of each chapter, I already have tons of lyrics that are perfect!! Anyway, enough of my babbling, here's Chapter 3.
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Don't give up the fight to stay alive and even if you have to
Find the reason of another's pain if they lose you
If not for yourself then those around who care like I do
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the gray sky
~311, Beyond the Gray Sky~
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Chapter 3: Escape
Her shoulder hurt. Sydney wished that someone would come and give her morphine, a painkiller, something. The metal cot she was lying on definitely didn't help her situation. This cell reminded her all too much of the CIA cell her mother and Sark had been in for so long, without the glass. She only hoped that she wouldn't be here as long as those two had been in the CIA's possession.
Thinking of Sark brought her back to her thoughts before Simon had come in earlier. But Sydney knew that at the moment she would find no reasons for Sark's offer of escape. So she resigned herself to sitting on her cot and resting her bruised eye.
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Jack Bristow walked calmly through the halls of the JTF, the form clutched in his hand. Pausing at the door of Dixon's office, he took a deep breath and made up his mind, knocking on the door.
20 minutes later he walked out again. It surprisingly hadn't taken him that long to convince Dixon of his decision. The man had listened carefully to Jack and, seeing the resolution in his eyes, had put his signature on the form and shook his hand, saying that he would be missed. Dixon's reaction only deepened the respect Jack had for that man.
And now he was back at his apartment, his furniture put in storage and his things packed. All that was left to do was hand over his keys. His cell phone rang while he was waiting for the taxi.
"Bristow."
"Jack. We expect to have her out in less than 8 hours."
"Good. I hope to be there by then."
"OK. Contact me when you arrive. You have the number, correct?"
"Yes. I do. I'll see you soon."
He hung up abruptly, hearing the honk of his waiting taxi. And Jack Bristow walked out of his apartment, locking the door behind him and putting his keys on the hook. He walked out of his apartment with no intention of ever coming back to Los Angeles. To the CIA. To his life. And he never once looked back.
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Sydney glanced up sharply as she heard gunshots outside her cell. She had just gotten to sleep after hours of thinking, and she was tired. Wondering what was going on, Sydney got up and walked towards the door, but jumped back just in time as it swung open, narrowly missing hitting her. Sark ran in, his blonde hair tousled and blood staining his white shirt, coming from a gash in his chest.
Sydney stepped forward. "Are you all right?"
Sark glanced down as if just realizing that he had been injured. "Oh," he replied vaguely, "yes, I'm fine. Just a scratch from dear old Simon there. Pity he got away before I could pay him back."
Sydney smiled grimly. "I assume this is when you're getting me out? Thanks for the advanced notice."
Sark smirked. "Yes, well it was rather sudden for me, also. Your mother is full of surprises, Sydney. But I assume that you knew that by now."
She dismissed his comments on her mother and brushed past him and out of the door. When he didn't follow she turned around.
"Well? Are we going or not?"
He shook his head as if in a daze. "Yes, of course. Let's go."
And Sydney followed him out of the warehouse and into the sunlight. She reveled in it, before climbing into a waiting car after Sark, never once looking back.
Sydney's mind vaguely registered a third person in the car before a needle was jabbed into her neck.
She glanced at Sark, who still held a syringe, her vision blurry. "Why?"
He simply looked at her. And Sydney's last vision was of a familiar face hovering over hers. And a voice.
"Welcome back, darling."
And then everything went black.
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TBC...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Don't give up the fight to stay alive and even if you have to
Find the reason of another's pain if they lose you
If not for yourself then those around who care like I do
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the gray sky
~311, Beyond the Gray Sky~
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 3: Escape
Her shoulder hurt. Sydney wished that someone would come and give her morphine, a painkiller, something. The metal cot she was lying on definitely didn't help her situation. This cell reminded her all too much of the CIA cell her mother and Sark had been in for so long, without the glass. She only hoped that she wouldn't be here as long as those two had been in the CIA's possession.
Thinking of Sark brought her back to her thoughts before Simon had come in earlier. But Sydney knew that at the moment she would find no reasons for Sark's offer of escape. So she resigned herself to sitting on her cot and resting her bruised eye.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jack Bristow walked calmly through the halls of the JTF, the form clutched in his hand. Pausing at the door of Dixon's office, he took a deep breath and made up his mind, knocking on the door.
20 minutes later he walked out again. It surprisingly hadn't taken him that long to convince Dixon of his decision. The man had listened carefully to Jack and, seeing the resolution in his eyes, had put his signature on the form and shook his hand, saying that he would be missed. Dixon's reaction only deepened the respect Jack had for that man.
And now he was back at his apartment, his furniture put in storage and his things packed. All that was left to do was hand over his keys. His cell phone rang while he was waiting for the taxi.
"Bristow."
"Jack. We expect to have her out in less than 8 hours."
"Good. I hope to be there by then."
"OK. Contact me when you arrive. You have the number, correct?"
"Yes. I do. I'll see you soon."
He hung up abruptly, hearing the honk of his waiting taxi. And Jack Bristow walked out of his apartment, locking the door behind him and putting his keys on the hook. He walked out of his apartment with no intention of ever coming back to Los Angeles. To the CIA. To his life. And he never once looked back.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney glanced up sharply as she heard gunshots outside her cell. She had just gotten to sleep after hours of thinking, and she was tired. Wondering what was going on, Sydney got up and walked towards the door, but jumped back just in time as it swung open, narrowly missing hitting her. Sark ran in, his blonde hair tousled and blood staining his white shirt, coming from a gash in his chest.
Sydney stepped forward. "Are you all right?"
Sark glanced down as if just realizing that he had been injured. "Oh," he replied vaguely, "yes, I'm fine. Just a scratch from dear old Simon there. Pity he got away before I could pay him back."
Sydney smiled grimly. "I assume this is when you're getting me out? Thanks for the advanced notice."
Sark smirked. "Yes, well it was rather sudden for me, also. Your mother is full of surprises, Sydney. But I assume that you knew that by now."
She dismissed his comments on her mother and brushed past him and out of the door. When he didn't follow she turned around.
"Well? Are we going or not?"
He shook his head as if in a daze. "Yes, of course. Let's go."
And Sydney followed him out of the warehouse and into the sunlight. She reveled in it, before climbing into a waiting car after Sark, never once looking back.
Sydney's mind vaguely registered a third person in the car before a needle was jabbed into her neck.
She glanced at Sark, who still held a syringe, her vision blurry. "Why?"
He simply looked at her. And Sydney's last vision was of a familiar face hovering over hers. And a voice.
"Welcome back, darling."
And then everything went black.
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TBC...