"Sydney? Please don't hang up," Sark said into his cell phone. He was cruising down the Route 10 freeway on his way to view the apartment he had purchased over the phone earlier that day. Some information had been brought to his attention while he was driving. Information that had to do with Sydney.

"I'm not going to hang up on you," Sydney's voice said from the other end of the line.

"Do you know who this is? Because I definitely think if you did, you would hang up on me."

"I don't make it a habit of keeping in contact with many Brits these days, so yes, Sark, I know who this is. What prompted you to call me? And how did you get this number?"

"I'm just that good, Sydney. In all seriousness, I received a communication today that concerns you greatly."

"And you figured in your quest to leave the dark side it would only be right to share this info with me?"

"See? What did I tell you? You do understand me."

"Fine. I'll meet with you. Let's just finish up this conversation before someone figures out that you're on the other side of this phone line. But you can't be calling me. I didn't tell anyone about your part in Cairo. The CIA doesn't know you're alive. Just the three Bristow women."

"That means a lot to me." He paused. "Meet me in Griffith Park. There's an old merry-go-round. I'll be waiting for you there, Sydney."

"Sark?" she said weakly hoping that he had hung up.

"What is it?"

"I have something to talk to you about to." She snapped her phone shut before he could respond. On a good note, at least now she didn't have to track down his location to tell him that his father was dead by her own hands.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

There was noticeably something a little off with Griffith Park when Sydney arrived there an hour later. She didn't see one person in the park. There were no children playing, no parents screaming, and no old men feeding the birds. The park was deserted.

"Kind of disconcerting?" Sark said as he walked up behind Sydney.

"Kind of creepy. Why is there no one around?"

"I'm just that good, Agent Bristow," Sark said with a smirk.

"Like I believe that. Let's cut the banter and get down to business. The longer this takes, the more likely the CIA is going to find out about our meeting."

Sark handed her a folder. "This is the information I found on where you've been the last two years."

Sydney took a seat on the currently still merry-go-round and began to leaf through the folder quickly. All she wanted to see was if it mentioned her murder of Lazarey. She wasn't surprised to stumble upon a coroner's report on the man in question. "Then you know about your father?"

"Yes," Sark said not looking over to where Sydney sat. "I know that you murdered him. And if you want to know the truth, I bet the bastard bloody deserved everything you did to him."

"What exactly did I do to him?" She couldn't understand the coroner's report for the life of her.

"Well, it appears like you tied him up at some point based on the rope burns on his wrists." Sark pointed at where it said that on the report. "And then there were burns on his chest and legs so I can only assumed that you were torturing him for information. I can't imagine why. The man was useless. They found a mild poison in his blood. It looks like you were planning on slowly poisoning him to get him to talk since the physical violence didn't seem to be working. He had a heart attack before you could actually kill him yourself."

"This doesn't bother you at all?" Sydney asked confused at his calmness.

"Like I said, the man was a bastard. He never loved me, and he reminded me of that every day I was with him. I enjoyed the five years I spent living on the streets twice as much as I enjoyed the first eleven years of my life that I spent with him. You think that your father did horrible things to do, Project Christmas and all. You don't know horrible until you've lived with my father."

"Are we going to get into another discussion of how much our lives suck?" she asked.

"Only if you want to, sweetheart." Sark sat down next to her. "Obviously you knew about the murder of my father. The CIA must have received some anonymous tips. But that's not the only thing in those files, Sydney."

"Why don't you tell me what exactly you found out that you think I don't already know?"

"I found out where you were for the entire two years you were missing. I know that you're aware you were in the custody of The Covenant. Simon Walker sold you to them. He has since joined the Covenant himself. When he sold you, though, that was his first interaction with the Covenant. They must have been pretty grateful to get their hands on you. Seems they had heard of the great spy Sydney Bristow," he teased.

"I am world famous, you know," she added.

"Well, just like the champion your reputation labels you as, it took the Covenant six months before they broke you. And by broke I don't mean in the conventional way. They didn't torture you in any physical way. They tried to get you to join them of your own free will. I guess they figured that would be the only way they could get you to stay with them for an indefinite period of time."

"I may have amnesia, but I know that I wouldn't willingly join a terrorist organization, Sark."

"And you didn't. That tactic didn't work. Once they realized that, the Covenant resorted to drastic measures. They performed an unconventional surgery on your brain. It blocked out your ability to recall certain events that had occurred in your life. They planted false memories that made you believe you had joined the Covenant of your own free will. And they fed you lies about a head trauma you had experienced while on a mission for them. You thought you were doing what you had chosen to do. You became Julia Thorne."

"At least my alias sounded cool. It could have been a lot worse."

"I'd be concerned if I didn't know that you were using inappropriate humor as a defense mechanism."

She shot him an annoyed look. "What was I doing for them?"

"You were their go-to girl. They went to you when there was a problem that no one else seemed to be able to handle. You did it all for them, kid. You killed. You stole. You even blew up national monuments."

"What national monument did I blow up?"

"You follow baseball, don't you, Sydney? Or at least you did before you disappeared, right?"

"Yes. Where are you going with this, Sark?"

"I haven't heard of the Toronto Blue Jays playing in awhile. That could be because you blew up the Toronto Skydome." She stared at him in shock. "And then there was the chunk of St. Patrick's Cathedral that you managed to collapse in Dublin. Oh! And the Victory Column in Berlin wasn't the same since you stole the statue of the Victory goddess that was sitting on top of it. I won't even get into what you did in Rome."

"You have got to be joking," Sydney said.

"No. Come to think of it. I think destroying moments was your thing. People started coming to you when the mission called for exactly that."

"Okay. So in the two years missing I cut a path of terror across the world. Good to know. Anything else?"

"Yeah. That was all the easy stuff. After you had worked with them almost eighteen months and shortly after you killed Lazarey, they began to suspect you were slipping back into your old persona. That the brainwashing had been slowly wearing off and you were going to snap out of the trance any day now. So they set up a test for you. It was their way of seeing whether or not you were still the vicious killer they had created."

"What was the test?"

"The Covenant had you return to L.A. They risked the CIA and your friends finding out you were still alive. Your mission was to go to Francie's restaurant when you thought she was alone inside. You were supposed to burn down the building with her in it."

"But I know I didn't do that. Francie's alive and living in London. I've talked to her," Sydney insisted in disbelief of what Sark was telling her.

"I think that the Covenant was right and their programming of you was slipping. You didn't check to make sure Francie was in the restaurant when you set fire to it. I think that in your subconscious you knew she wasn't inside which is why you were able to let yourself do what you did."

"That's a mighty nice sense of faith you have in me, Sark."

"I may have said that sometimes you've yearned to be a killer like me. Doesn't mean I actually believe you would ever lower yourself to my level," he joked.

"So I burned down the restaurant. What happened to me after that?"

"According to the information I received, the restaurant burning knocked your head around a bit. You got confused and didn't follow through with the mission. You were supposed to return to the Covenant immediately and report what had happened. Instead you went to Geneva and found Dr. Gaugnier."

"He's a world-renowned authority on the brain," Sydney said. She furrowed her brow in confusion. "How did I know that?"

"Because you met him, talked with him, and let him operate on you. You wanted to know if anything was wrong in that head of yours. So you agreed to let him take a peek. Gaugnier was actually an employee of your mother's. He recognized you from the resemblance you bear to her. That was the only reason that he operated on you instead of shooting you on the spot."

"Good to know my genetic ties to my mother are useful for something."

"Gaugnier cleared the block that the Covenant had placed in your brain. He explained to you that as soon as your body recovered from the surgery, you wouldn't remember what you had done the past two years. The severity of the surgery would cause you to revert those memories and therein give you amnesia."

"So why did I go to Hong Kong after I left Geneva?"

"That I don't know, Sydney. I told you I didn't have all the answers."

"But you really helped. I know that I should probably be skeptical of the information you've given me, but I'm not. Maybe you brainwashed me when I wasn't looking while we were in Egypt."

"You caught me," he said with a laugh.

Sydney sat in silence for a minute before saying what was on her mind. "Let me give you a little advice, Sark. My sister isn't ready for you to come back actively pursuing her. She still has a few situations she needs to iron out before she's even close to letting you back in."

"So you're telling me to not pressure her?"

"You've grown on me these past few days. I'm telling you that being aggressive with this situation is only going to push her away." Sydney stood up. "Let me know if you find out anything else from this source that seems to know everything about my missing two years.

"I will," he said honestly.

"I know you will," she said with a sad smile, "which says a lot for how I think of you." With a small wave, she began to walk back to her car trying to think of ways to let the CIA know of the new information Sark had given her.