"One could argue that point," said Sydney. "It's taken me too long to
realize that there is no black or white; only many shades of gray. People
have reasons for what they do. Just because I don't agree with their
reasoning, doesn't mean that they are wrong. Every person has his or her
own motivation. I just never accepted that. My mother is one of the
people that I have accepted. I do, however, still believe that there are
lines that should not be crossed. I have to find out what happened, and
I'm willing to do what I have to do."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Sark to himself once again.
She had changed. He was not sure if it was for the better, but the old Sydney Bristow would never had made a statement like that. What had she been through these past two years? She obviously could not remember, but it had taken its toll on her. The hope that she had once had was not there. But, the fire still was. The fire that drove her to become the best. To excel at anything she did. Lesser people would have retreated into themselves and ceased to live after facing some of the things she had. Not Sydney. Never Sydney. That is one of the things that he admired about her. He saw in her the same fire that he had. But, she had something that he didn't. Hope. Apparently, she lost that though after disappearing into a void for two years. Well, he mused; maybe she will learn to have hope again. God knows she needed it. And so did he. He was tired of being so cold inside.
He was sure her absence had something to do with Sloane. He should have put a bullet between Sloane's eyes when he had the chance. But, that was something that he could not do. Instead, he had to work with the man (if you could call him that), in order to gain knowledge about Rambaldi and the prophecy.
Sark thought back two years. After he had been brought to the CIA, they tried to extract information from him. He would have been more than happy to let the damn dogs have Sloane, but he knew that he couldn't. Not until he knew more. So, he did not break. Not with the inquisitions, not with the thiopental sodium, and not with the torture. He had let himself be captured for a reason. That reason was to gain insight into what the CIA knew. Unfortunately, the one person that the prophecy affected most was not there.
Sydney had disappeared. When it happened, Jack Bristow, Agent Vaughn, and numerous other people had come to him. They had demanded information. They really believed that he knew exactly what was going on. He had used that to his advantage. As long as he was useful to them, they kept him around. He could not afford to be transferred to Camp Harris. He would learn nothing there. He could only hope that Irina would carry on with their plans, and not be distracted by the disappearance of Sydney. They could not help her that way.
Sark was aware that Sydney had killed Allison. At first, all he felt was a desire to hurt her. She had taken away one of the only people that he had loved. He couldn't honestly say that he had been in love with Allison, but she had been there from the beginning. After he had lost his family and had been taken under Khasinau's wing, she was his one assurance that he was still alive. If it hadn't been for her, he would have lost what heart he had. Even after he had met Irina, Allie was still there. Irina had taught him so many things, but she wasn't exactly an open book. He smirked at the idea of sitting down to tea to have a heart to heart with her. It had hurt him when he realized that Allie had started to care for Tippin, but it was something he had expected. Allison did have a heart. Tippin was able to be warm with her, to show his feelings. Something Sark didn't dare do. Not anymore.
After time, he realized that Sydney had done what she had to do. Kill or be killed. And, he knew all too well what one does in that situation. Besides, he had been the one to mistakenly mention Allie to Sloane. Then he had to use her. But what the hell happened to Sydney?
Then he had heard that Sydney had been found. Or what they took to be her. There wasn't really anything they could do to make a positive identification except use a DNA sample. Sark knew better than anyone that this could be misleading. He knew Sloane's twisted mind enough to know that he would keep Sydney alive for his purpose. He was sure that the DNA was planted. But, since he was in custody, there was no way to prove it.
So, he had waited. For something, for anything. Well, the wait was over.
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Sark to himself once again.
She had changed. He was not sure if it was for the better, but the old Sydney Bristow would never had made a statement like that. What had she been through these past two years? She obviously could not remember, but it had taken its toll on her. The hope that she had once had was not there. But, the fire still was. The fire that drove her to become the best. To excel at anything she did. Lesser people would have retreated into themselves and ceased to live after facing some of the things she had. Not Sydney. Never Sydney. That is one of the things that he admired about her. He saw in her the same fire that he had. But, she had something that he didn't. Hope. Apparently, she lost that though after disappearing into a void for two years. Well, he mused; maybe she will learn to have hope again. God knows she needed it. And so did he. He was tired of being so cold inside.
He was sure her absence had something to do with Sloane. He should have put a bullet between Sloane's eyes when he had the chance. But, that was something that he could not do. Instead, he had to work with the man (if you could call him that), in order to gain knowledge about Rambaldi and the prophecy.
Sark thought back two years. After he had been brought to the CIA, they tried to extract information from him. He would have been more than happy to let the damn dogs have Sloane, but he knew that he couldn't. Not until he knew more. So, he did not break. Not with the inquisitions, not with the thiopental sodium, and not with the torture. He had let himself be captured for a reason. That reason was to gain insight into what the CIA knew. Unfortunately, the one person that the prophecy affected most was not there.
Sydney had disappeared. When it happened, Jack Bristow, Agent Vaughn, and numerous other people had come to him. They had demanded information. They really believed that he knew exactly what was going on. He had used that to his advantage. As long as he was useful to them, they kept him around. He could not afford to be transferred to Camp Harris. He would learn nothing there. He could only hope that Irina would carry on with their plans, and not be distracted by the disappearance of Sydney. They could not help her that way.
Sark was aware that Sydney had killed Allison. At first, all he felt was a desire to hurt her. She had taken away one of the only people that he had loved. He couldn't honestly say that he had been in love with Allison, but she had been there from the beginning. After he had lost his family and had been taken under Khasinau's wing, she was his one assurance that he was still alive. If it hadn't been for her, he would have lost what heart he had. Even after he had met Irina, Allie was still there. Irina had taught him so many things, but she wasn't exactly an open book. He smirked at the idea of sitting down to tea to have a heart to heart with her. It had hurt him when he realized that Allie had started to care for Tippin, but it was something he had expected. Allison did have a heart. Tippin was able to be warm with her, to show his feelings. Something Sark didn't dare do. Not anymore.
After time, he realized that Sydney had done what she had to do. Kill or be killed. And, he knew all too well what one does in that situation. Besides, he had been the one to mistakenly mention Allie to Sloane. Then he had to use her. But what the hell happened to Sydney?
Then he had heard that Sydney had been found. Or what they took to be her. There wasn't really anything they could do to make a positive identification except use a DNA sample. Sark knew better than anyone that this could be misleading. He knew Sloane's twisted mind enough to know that he would keep Sydney alive for his purpose. He was sure that the DNA was planted. But, since he was in custody, there was no way to prove it.
So, he had waited. For something, for anything. Well, the wait was over.