Show No Emotion

Spoilers: No

Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com

A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.

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"No!" Sydney cried as the building burst into flames. Tears streamed down her face as she was overcome with the realization that she may never see Sark again. Then, it was as if the Lord in Heaven had taken pity on her. A helicopter rose from the smoke and flames, flying away from the damage. Sydney's jaw dropped. She knew Sark had to be on that helicopter. She turned to look at her father, her eyes wide. "Dad, is the tracking device activated?"

Jack nodded. "It's been activated since day one. We'll get him back, Sydney."

She let out a sigh of relief and looked back at the helicopter as it got smaller and smaller.

"We'll leave when you're ready," Jack said, climbing back into the car.

Sydney didn't respond. She tensed when she felt Vaughn's touch on her arm. She couldn't deal with him right now.

"Vaughn, I--" she started.

He cut her off. "You love him, don't you? Sark?"

She looked him in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty for her lies and disloyalty. His eyes begged her to say no. To say that she still loved him more than life itself. That she would never leave him. But she couldn't. "Yes," she whispered. "I do love him."

He blinked, his eyes becoming cloudy, and nodded. "I see."

"Vaughn, I'm so sorry. I don't know how it happened, I just--"

He held up a hand. "I don't need to hear it, Syd."

"But--"

"I don't need to hear it!" he snapped.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. She sighed, irritably and regrettably, and jumped back into the car.

DUBLIN, IRELAND

"Mr. Sark," he taunted, "wake up."

Sark slowly and groggily opened his eyes, squinting as they met the bright lights. He let out an almost inaudible groan, shifting to ease the pain in his back and shoulder. He found that it didn't do much good. His hands were cuffed behind the hard, metal chair he was seated on. He looked to the voice.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Go the hell," Sark snarled, lunging toward Sloane, held back only by the cuffs.

Sloane chuckled. "Still as vibrant as ever, aren't you?" His smile melted into an angry frown. "Now, you betrayed Irina and me. That wasn't a very intelligent thing to do, and you know that. So why did you go the CIA?"

Sark shrugged. "We all have our own agendas. You have to know that. Do you honestly believe that Irina will be loyal to you?"

Sark didn't cried out when Sloane backhanded his face. His breath came out in little gasps, but Sloane remained calm, acting as though nothing had happened.

"I'm willing to play games as long as you are, Sark," Sloane said.

"Where are we?"

"Dublin."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

"Frankly, my dear boy, I just don't give a damn."

Sark rolled his eyes. He hated it when Sloane destroyed classic film quotes. "What do you want?"

"Mmm, want. What a strong word it is, want. There are many things that I want, but few things that I actually need. For example, I want you dead, but I need to know what you told the CIA."

It was Sark's turn to chuckle. "You know just as well as I do that I will never tell you."

"Which is exactly why we're turning to torture!" Sloane exclaimed gleefully.

"You can do whatever you'd like to me. I'm not going to say a word."

"You say that now. But in a few hours, you'll be spilling information like there was no tomorrow."

"You keep that little fantasy in your head, Mr. Sloane. It's not going to happen."

"We'll see."

Sark raised an eyebrow. "I've been tortured before. There's nothing you can do that I won't be able to handle."

Sloane shrugged. "Well, as long as we have fun doing it."

"Somehow I have no doubt that you will."

"We finally agree on something." Sloane leaned in close to Sark's face. "Save yourself the pain, Mr. Sark. What did you tell the CIA?" Sark raised his chin defiantly, causing Sloane to let out a heavy sigh. "Very well."

He stepped away from Sark and walked toward the large metal door that stood between Sark and his exit. Sloane opened the door and just outside stood four men.

No doubt they're Sloane's lackeys, Sark thought to himself.

"It's time to begin, boys," Sloane announced. "Don't get too rowdy."