Sark sat in shocked silence, trying to comprehend what had been said. He had to have misheard. He stood and started pacing, rubbing his brow with his hand, a sure sign of agitation. Sydney was sitting on the edge of her chair, with a shocked expression on her face. She couldn't believe what she had heard. Jack, as usual was not letting any emotion cross his face. It helped that he had heard all of this from Irina earlier. He did, however, let his hand rest lightly on hers. Irina sat there, silently thanking Jack for his support, cursing the fact that her family and friends had been brought into this nightmare.
Sark continued pacing, occasionally stopping as if he were going to speak, then shaking his head, only to pace again. There was no bloody way that he could be Rambaldi's descendant. It wasn't possible. He would have uncovered something in all of his research. He had worked with Irina for years, finding everything related to Rambaldi that he could. She had always said that it was for Sydney's sake. Instead, she had lied to him like she had lied to everyone else. He thought that they had a professional courtesy, that she respected him enough to repay him with the same honesty that he had shown her. He had even pitted himself with Sloane, the bastard, in order to get an inside footing. Now, after all of these years, she was telling him that he was a descendant of Rambaldi? He chose his words carefully. "Forgive me if I don't seem…thrilled, Irina," his voice strained and angry. "I can hardly believe what you are saying. After all, I worked with you for years, and you had given me no indication of it. We were, after all, working together. I made sure to share all of the information that I was privy to with you." He stood looking at her for more of an explanation, his eyes tinged with resentment.
"Sark, there are many things that you do not know. I had been a close friend with your mother since we were girls. When I left to go to America, we were not always able to keep in touch, but the bond was still there. I rejoiced when she met your father, had your sister, and later, you. I told her all about Jack when I met him, and about Sydney when she was born. She was glad that I had a wonderful family." At this, she glanced at Jack and Sydney, hoping that they both knew how much she really did love them. They were both looking at her with questioning expressions. "Even when I did talk to her, I had to be very secretive. I did not want the KGB to find out about our friendship, lest they use it against me. They already had enough ammunition." She stopped, looking at Sark to see how he was taking this. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gripped Jack's hand tighter.
Sark regarded her quietly for a moment before he spoke. "You knew my mother?" he asked softly. His anger was subdued for a moment as he thought of his mother. He could remember her so well. She was so beautiful, so full of laughter. She had always been so gentle with him. His memories of flashing in his mind brought a lump to his throat, which he promptly swallowed. It wasn't the time for sad regrets.
Irina looked at him, seeing her friend in his eyes. "Yes, I knew her well. She was a wonderful woman. She was certainly a better person that I could ever be," she stated sadly. Her thoughts raced to all of the things she had done. Although they had been to protect her family, that didn't mean that they weren't wrong. "You are like her in many ways."
Sark didn't respond, but his eyes held unshed tears. This revelation had brought many memories back for him, and his emotions threatened to overtake him. He quickly turned around and walked to the window. He stood there, body rigid, until he had control again.
Irina stood and walked over behind Sydney's chair. She looked down at her daughter, love apparent in her eyes. "Eventually, I had to leave my home in America to protect my daughter and husband. I was desperate to find any information about Rambaldi that I could. I uncovered the prophecy that you just heard. I went to your parents, to tell them what I had found. I was close enough to them to know that it would remain between us. At first, we thought it was your father, for you look like him, you know. They were as mystified by it as I was and were willing to help with my research. They knew that your mother was a descendant, based on family records, but had no idea what that meant. At that point in time, Rambaldi's works were just being discovered and no one else had uncovered much of importance. After more research, we discovered that it was not your father, but you. You were very young at the time. We knew that you and your family were in as much danger as mine, perhaps more so." Here she paused, as if remembering the past. She walked over to Sark. She wanted him to understand what she was trying to say, why he hadn't been told sooner.
Sydney interrupted at this point. "Mom, don't you find it odd that the prophecy was about Aidan. I mean, you had found out about me already, but wasn't it a little strange to you that the next part was about your best friend's son?" She sat back in her chair, trying to sort out all of the information that they were being told.
Irina looked a Sydney thoughtfully. "Nothing with Rambaldi is coincidence, Sydney. You should know that by now." She addressed Sark again. "If anyone wanted to use Sydney for the wrong reasons, it would be easier to do with you out of the way. For several years we quietly worked to gather information. Unfortunately Sloane found out about you. He already knew about Sydney…" glancing at Jack and Sydney to see how they would take this news. They had thought that they discovered it before Sloane. " …but, he was confident that with his work with Jack, that he would have access to her when he needed her. But you were a problem, Sark. He is the one who came after your family. He wanted you dead, so that he would have the control that he wanted. Your parents died protecting you. They loved you so much, and truly believed that you had to be safe. We weren't able to save your sister in time, but Khasinau was able to extract you."
At this, Sark whirled around to face Irina, anger flashing in his eyes. "So you mean to tell me that I was working with the man that murdered my family?" His hands balled into fists so tightly, the knuckles turned white. "How typical of you, Irina. Your abilities at manipulation are amazing. You'll pardon me if I don't thank you," Sark spat at her in a clearly venomous tone. He was trying his best to disguise it, but Sydney recognized the pain in his eyes. Hadn't she had the same anguish and heartache when she found out the truth about whom she had really been working for?
Irina didn't pause as she continued. She knew he was speaking out of anger and frustration. "You see, even though Sloane knew about you, he didn't have the page of the prophecy or know what you looked like, so it was relatively easy to hide you. You took the name of Sark voluntarily, which made it easier. You wouldn't have been able to hide from Sloane with the name Fennelly, for he knew it." At this, Sark blanched, not having heard anyone speak his surname in years. Sydney looked surprised at this also. She hadn't known that his last name wasn't Sark. "After time, I came to you. I was confident that Jack could protect Sydney, however, there was no one to look after for you. I erased all of your past, creating a new identity for you as Mr. Sark. I had promised your parents that I would look after you, to make sure you were safe. The safest thing I could think of was to work directly with me. You were trained as an assassin so that you would be able to protect yourself. Sloane trusted me and truly believed that I was interested in Rambaldi for the same reason as him. That worked to my advantage. He never suspected that Mr. Sark had been the boy that he sought after. After a time, he found some intel that Aidan Fennelly was dead."
Sark felt ill, feeling his face drain completely of color. All of this time, he had truly thought that he had made his own choices, that what he had done was out of free will. Now he was wondering if it had all been a sham. He had just been a puppet someone had played. "So you just played with my fate, molding me into what you wanted?" Sark whispered, his voice dripping with disdain. "I must say, that certainly sounds like you were [I]protecting[/I] me."
Irina let her cool gaze catch his. "Yes, that is true, but it [i]was[/i] to protect you. I felt that if you were working with me, and in turn, Sloane, then would he never suspect you. He was looking for someone with another name, another past. He thought you were dead. It never occurred to him that you were right under his nose or that someone that was to decide the fate of the future could be a dauntless killer." She had wished many times that she had made a different decision for his life, but she knew better than anyone that you cannot change the past.
Sark let his cold blue eyes lock with her brown ones. "I think I've heard enough for the time being. I need to process all of this with a clear head. Otherwise, I'm very liable to wring your neck right now, and I don't think you want that," Sark said, as the others looked warily at him. His eyes were flashing with barely controlled rage as he turned and left them.
Jack sat in silence. He felt for the boy that had left. To find out that everything you had taken as truth was a lie, was a hard thing to face. He knew that from first hand experience.
Sydney stood and faced her mother. "I don't know that I understand all of this right now. I am part of the prophecy too, mom, it has ruined my life. You kept it from me too," she said, glaring accusingly at her mother. To say this was a shock to her was an understatement, but she knew that Aidan would be more astounded than she would. She still didn't quite understand. She thought of the part of the prophecy that concerned her.
[I] 'This woman here depicted will possess unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works. Bind them with fury. A burning anger, unless prevented. At vulgar cost, this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation.'[/I]
Did this mean that Aidan was the one who would prevent her causing total devastation? "Mom, what does it all mean?"
Irina looked at her daughter and husband and replied, "I'm still not sure of everything. For now, lets talk of other things. I don't want to continue on this vein until Sark returns." She went quietly over the couch and sat down by Jack.
Sydney stood up and walked to the window Sark had just been in front of, leaning her forehead against the cool glass, her thoughts spinning at a mile a minute. What was going to happen to them now?
Sark stood wearily at the spot where he and Sydney had ventured earlier that morning. Funny, that seems years ago. His mind was immersed in thought. His family had been killed because of him. They were ripped cruelly away from him because some 16th century prophet decided that he was the one. They died to protect him. Irina had taken him in and did what she felt was best. If she hadn't made him what he was, he would not be so strong, so able to deal with what was to come. He still resented her for it, though. For not telling him the truth and letting him make his own decisions. He was normally an intelligent man, but for the life of him, he couldn't seem to wrap his head around all of this. When Irina had mentioned the prophecy, he had assumed that it was something trivial. Instead, he finds that the fate of the world was in his hands. If he hadn't studied Rambaldi so avidly, he would have been able to laugh it away as some elaborate hoax. But, he couldn't, not after all he had seen. He knew that she spoke the truth.
Sydney went to find Aidan after a time, and discovered him, leaning again the fence, shoulders heaving with racking sobs. She was taken aback by this display of emotion, but moved by it. She wasn't sure what to do, but she knew that he needed her.
For the first time in his life, Sark had let his grief take over. He had not broken down, not even when his family was destroyed. But, now he wept. He wept for his beautiful mother, who had done nothing but love him. He wept for his father, who was always so strong and capable. He wept for his loving sister, who had plagued his life, but who had loved him dearly. He wept for the boy that he had been and for the man that he had become. He wept for Sydney, who was part of the same fate, whose life had been turned upside down like his. It was she that had enormous propensity for good, and himself, always the cold-blooded killer. Yet, he was the one that would decide the fate of the future, and she had the ability to destroy it. Ironic, wasn't it?
Sydney didn't say a word, but went silently to him. He heard her approach, and for once, didn't hide behind a false façade. He simply held his arms out to her and relished in the comfort that she offered him.