Chapter 3- Primal Instinct
"Yes, she is quite good at what she does. Yes, Ma'am, I understand, but she's a little distressed right now," Sark paced in his private study which was different than the tower room in the fact that it was in what used to be the keep of the manor. "Well, for instance, I took her to her room and she wouldn't come back out. Nearly two hours and all the while she had the shower running. When I asked her what was wrong she kept screaming, 'I want to be clean again! The stain's still there!'. I really don't know when. Tonight? Yes, we will," Sark flinched slightly as Irina Derevko slammed down the phone on the other end. "That woman will be the end of me," He whispered, as if Derevko could hear him. He walked briskly to a floor to ceiling painting of a dancing maiden near the door of his study. Knocking three times in the exact middle of the painting, he stood back and waited patiently. With a soft rumble, the painting split in the middle and opened slowly to reveal a dark, dank passageway lit by electric lights. Sark had to duck down the passage because of his height. He walked for about five meters before going left at a fork, and then right ten more meters down. He stopped before an old wooden door with an old rusted handle that was about the size of a mini fridge. He pulled hard at the handle, and crouched down to go through the small door. The space he found himself in was about five by seven feet with a depth of about a foot and a half. Careful not to upset the space's contents, he found the crease between the woods and pushed hard. Light exploded into the space, and Sark stepped out of the wardrobe into Lynx's bedroom.
Sark scanned the room. Lynx was on a chair she had moved to the windowsill. She sat enraptured by a lap top screen. Lynx didn't even notice him coming over to stare at the screen over her shoulder. That, or she didn't care. On the screen were an electric encyclopedia link and a picture of a big cat with pointed ears on top of a snowy hill. Lynx sat twirling a lock of still wet hair contemplatively.
"What's this? Where did you find that?" Sark asked after a long silence.
"I found it stashed in the wardrobe. The encyclopedia software was already programmed into the hard drive. I just was reading to pass the time," Lynx said in a faraway voice.
"What is that thing?" Sark had never seen such an animal.
"It's a lynx. A fierce, powerful wildcat found in the Northern Hemisphere, having a short tail and tufted ears," Lynx shot a glance at her Master then looked back at the screen. " I was trying to find out what "Lynx" was. That's a lynx."
"Well, it certainly looks evil," Sark stood up. "I have something for you," He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a band of black with a silver embellishment on it. The embellishment was a silver plate with an "S" elegantly engraved in it. "You're to wear this every day all the time from now on. It's a symbol. Every one who is significant will know what it means, that you're one of mine. It's completely inconspicuous. In fact, I heard monogrammed necklaces were popular nowadays with girls your age in America."
"What's this for Master?" Lynx took the necklace and put it on. It fit kind of like a choker necklace, that or a collar. How nice; a collar for his new cat.
"We're going to Egypt,"
"What for, Master?" Lynx turned around carefully as to not upset the computer in her lap.
"You're going to meet one of my superiors, Irina Derevko. She seems interested in you, especially after she heard what you did to Mr. Latyner. She was most pleased with that. You should be proud," Sark watched Lynx get up and move in a daze around the chamber; "most beginning associates don't even get to actually meet Irina for about five to six years. They go through contacts, like me. You get to meet her after two days ,"
"Where are we going? Giza? Memphis?" Lynx sat down on the bed.
"The capital, Cairo, actually," Sark studied her. "But we need to pick up a few things in town before we leave,"
Lynx was now all business, "Like what, Master? Weapons? Disguises? Tools? Transport?"
Sark gave a little chuckle, "No actually," He pulled a small card of plastic out of his pocket and handed it to Lynx. "Clothes,"
* * *
Vaughn stared at the screen in hypnosis. Since Sydney's distress over hearing about Project Lifetime, Michael Vaughn had made a personal vow to find out everything about the project. However, even Weiss had to admit spending five straight hours researching on a computer was a little too far.
"I know you want her to feel better about the whole thing," The husky agent said as he gave his friend his fifth cup of coffee. "But I feel a good bouquet of roses says 'I love you' more than sleepy eyes,"
"And your girlfriend is where, Weiss?" Vaughn was understandably a little cranky.
"I'm just saying that long, hard hours at work may not be the best way to do things," Weiss sat down. "You don't want her to worry you're getting too tired,"
"Uh, huh," Vaughn stared intently at his screen. He was only half listening to his friend. "Yeah,"
"You know, I knew this girl once. Always nagging about how I was never there because I was working," Weiss kept going on and on.
There! Yes, a hit! "Thank God," Vaughn sprang up from his office chair and ran after the form of Jack Bristow.
"No one listens to me anymore," Weiss took a sip from his own coffee.
"Jack, Jack I need to talk to you," Vaughn struggled at catch his breath as he followed the Senior Officer.
"Sure," Jack gave Vaughn a quick glance. He'd decided to at least be civil with his daughter's fiancé. "What is it?"
"We really should talk somewhere more secluded," Vaughn led Jack over to a quieter alcove. He took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "Now, this may be a bit awkward,"
"Agent Vaughn, if this conversation is not work-related or appropriate, I suggest it not be held here," Jack turned to go, but Vaughn wasn't about to let him go.
"Jack, wait! It's about Project Lifetime!" Vaughn watched as Jack turned around, and looked at Vaughn peculiarly. He walked back and stared at Vaughn in shock.
"What do you know about Project Lifetime?" Jack asked.
"That's what I was going to ask you," Vaughn said. "I had interrogated a witness, and she had mentioned the project. Intrigued, I researched it further. Even more interesting, I found your name attached to it."
Jack shifted uncomfortably, "I might have provided assistance at one point,"
"Jack, I know you were the main director of Project Lifetime. It was in the file," Vaughn said with conviction.
"The project ended last year. I was only director for the initial set-up of four years," Jack regained his confidence. "Is that it?"
"No," Vaughn took another deep breath. "The project was completed. At least fifty kids are out there with the ability to do who knows what. I need to know what the syllabus was for Project Lifetime."
"Agent Vaughn, even though you are going to be marrying my daughter," Jack glared. "That does not give you the right to order me around. You do not need to know anymore than you do now. This isn't even declassified Intel."
"Jack, I," Vaughn tried to get him to talk more.
Jack cut him off, "Never ask me about this at work again Agent Vaughn,"
* * *
"It's too short!" Lynx complained of her newly shorn, shoulder-length hair. Her master, her and nearly five of Sark's guards, one of which was the pilot, were flying on a jet to Cairo. She pulled at her new, black designer suit too. Lynx understood Sark wanted her to look good for Derevko, but did she have to be in a suit?
"Live with it Lynx," Sark called from the other side of the plane where he sat at his computer. "Be happy I didn't make you wear high heels,"
"I thank you for that, Master," Lynx came out of the jet's bathroom and retook her seat facing her master. "It would have been harder to serve you in heels. You think of everything,"
"Thank you," Sark didn't even look up; or notice the sarcasm.
"Master, may I ask a question?" Lynx received a warning nudge from the beefy guard she sat beside.
"If you wish," Sark was too into his computer, Lynx decided. "What is it?"
"Why does Irina Derevko want to see me? Why has she taken an interest in me? Is it because of what I did to that CIA agent?" Lynx received more than a warning nudge from the guard. Now she got a warning glare and kick that smarted from the guard opposite her.
"Do not question Mr. Sark, ever," The guard said harshly.
"You forget your place," said another.
"Andrew, James, let her be. She at this point has more influence than you," Sark finally put away his laptop. He stood up and walked to stand in front of Lynx. "She has taken an interest in you because you killed one of the CIA's finest agents. He himself had killed and evaded twenty of Derevko's best contract killers. That you, a beginner, were able to do it so easily impressed her every much,"
"So, killing Agent Latyner himself was a test. If I passed, I lived and if I failed, I died," Lynx looked at him. "Some test. So, I impressed her?"
"Very much so. In fact, I shouldn't be telling you this, but she's going to give you a test of her own," Sark turned to sit own and resume using his laptop.
"Like what?" Lynx asked.
"Don't ask stupid questions," The beefy guard beside her reached into his jacket and pulled out a small handgun. "Mr. Sark told me to give you this,"
"Thank you, Master," Lynx took it, and held it in the dim light of the jet. She cocked it, and peered down the sight, giving the guard in front of her something to worry about
Sark shrugged slightly. "Just don't let Derevko know you have it,"
* * *
They had landed almost two hours and twelve rebukes from the guards later. Lynx was the first to step off of the jet, followed by two guards, then Sark who was followed by his three guards. They immediately boarded two waiting black SUVs that took off as soon as everyone was seated.
"Now, you should be aware of some etiquette when you meet Derevko," Sark told Lynx as the SUV roared down the sandy streets of Cairo. "Number one, never look anywhere but her eyes when you are speaking to her. If you dart around, she thinks you're planning something. Number two, never speak unless you are spoken to,"
"Good girls are seen, not heard," Lynx recited the old saying.
"Exactly. Number three," Sark got out of the SUV as it stopped at an old-looking house on the outskirts of the large Egyptian city; Lynx followed. Sark walked up to the door and knocked sharply. "Don't laugh, whisper, sigh, don't even breathe loudly,"
"The way you're instructing her, she might as well not breathe at all, Sark," Irina Derevko stood in the recently opened doorway. She looked exactly as her picture had been: dark, cool, and undeniably dangerous. "Come in, we have much to discuss,"
The party moved down the dark hallway. The walls were covered in hieroglyphic art and Romanesque vases and busts of philosophers adorned the hall on high pedestals. Lynx ignored her Master's bidding, and allowed her eyes to roam. She glanced at the open doors and saw different rooms. Everywhere were different wall paintings, and everywhere there were security cameras.
They came to a sitting room, and Irina gestured for them to sit. She and Sark took two plushy armchairs and Lynx took a nearby wooden stool. The dark woman looked intently at the teenager, "Who are you?" she questioned.
"I am Lynx, associate of my Master, Sark," Lynx answered crisply.
"Where did you train?" Derevko questioned.
Lynx blinked slowly, "I can't remember,"
"She has memory loss," Sark explained.
"What is your purpose?" Derevko snapped her fingers, and a servant scurried forward to serve Sark and herself cups of steaming tea.
"To serve my Master to the utmost of my ability," Lynx wanted tea too. Oh, well.
"And how is it that you killed Agent Brandon Latyner in one try when twenty of my highly skilled people have tried, failed, and been killed?" Irina took a sip and looked intently at the girl.
"I don't know," Lynx shrugged. "I just got angry," Irina blinked at her and Lynx continued, "He wouldn't obey me, I got mad, so I killed him in the most horrible way I could think of,"
Derevko nodded, and then snapped her fingers again. This time, a young man entered the room. He was about twenty and was tall with short black hair. He walked over to Derevko's right side, and stood there. "This is Carson. He, like you, is a very capable human being. He has already proven his worth. Show them, Carson,"
"Yes, Ma'am," Carson retrieved a manila folder from a nearby shelf. He handed it to Sark.
"Euh, repulsive," Sark stared at the color photo that had been in the folder. He handed it to Lynx. The woman in the photo looked as if she'd gone through a paper shredder. Lynx swallowed hard, and then handed the folder back to the man.
Derevko stood, then gestured for the others to do so as well, "You'll have a test, come with me," She told Lynx, and then proceeded to leave the room. She turned around when she noticed Sark was coming as well. "Carson, keep an eye on Mr. Sark. Sark, stay here,"
"Lynx," Sark beckoned the girl. "Don't trust anything she says. Just do it, and you'll be fine,"
"Lynx!" Derevko was getting impatient.
"I'm coming," Lynx followed the dark woman out of the room and down the hall. They went down a set of old, sandy stairs and finally stood in a dim, shadowy room lit only by an overhead light. The floor itself was just sand. It seemed as if the room had been carved out of the hard, sandy ground. The walls were painted in ancient hieroglyphic scenes of Osiris and Isis.
"You have proven yourself to Sark, but not to me," Derevko crossed her arms and glared. "I will give you a true challenge this time." She disappeared into the shadows. Lynx heard a series of moans and scraping, and then saw Derevko reappear with a gagged, bound man who she threw to the ground. "This is French Secret Service Agent Jacque Aitiore. What life he has is not important. What is important is that he threatened the life of your Master. What do you say?"
A fire arose in Lynx. Someone had tried to harm Sark before? "He tried to kill my Master, and that is not acceptable,"
"Glad to hear it," Derevko smiled as she walked back up the stairs, leaving Lynx staring at the struggling French man with contempt. "Have fun,"
* * *
Sydney stared at the war in font of her. A fierce battle raged between her opponent and herself. Her opponent was swift, intelligent, and cunning. Even she did not know who would win at this point. But, Sydney had never lost, how could she now? Her opponent finally made his final move. He'd cornered her, and he knew his victory as he smiled at her. Vaughn breathed a sigh, and looked at Sydney again, "Checkmate," he said.
"I still think you cheated," she laughed as Vaughn knocked over her king with his finger.
"Well, maybe it was just your time," he said, smiling a secret smile.
"What?" Sydney smiled back and laughed again. "What is it now?"
"I have a special present I would like to give you," Vaughn reached behind their couch (Sydney had moved in with him after the incident with Allison Doran at her old place), and came up with a pale blue box tied with white ribbon.
"Jewelry?" Sydney questioned as she opened her package.
Vaughn shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not,"
Sydney opened the box and removed a small ring box. She carefully opened the lid and gasped at what she saw. It was a diamond and silver necklace that rivaled the one Sydney had exclaimed over a few weeks ago as they had window-shopped. The clasp held the twisted silver wire that held the diamonds. It was exquisite and beautiful. "Thank you so much!" She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.
"I thought you could wear it for our wedding. It would look absolutely perfect," Vaughn pulled her into his lap and smiled. "Just like you,"
Sydney smiled even broader, "Thank you,"
"Now let's make this a real thank you," Vaughn reached up, and turned the lamp light off.
* * *
"What is taking so long?" Sark paced in Derevko's living room.
"Well, Mistress did take her to kill someone," Carson lounged like a big cat on a sofa.
"What?" Sark shouted, alarmed. "What did you say?"
"Hey, sir, easy. Derevko's giving her a test to kill someone. I'm sure it'll be over in a minute," Carson put his hands under his head. "Hey, she even gave her the French guy who tried to kill you. Man, I would have loved to take a shot at him,"
Sark marched over to Carson and pulled him straight up off the couch. Carson couldn't believe it when Sark pushed him up against the sandy wall. "If anything happens to her, or causes her reason to become distressed, you will personally feel it,"
"Mistress was right, you are very good at intimidation," Carson smiled at his little joke.
Sark didn't get it, "I swear to you, if-"
"Sark, remove him from the wall," Derevko had returned with Lynx. Sark couldn't see anything different about her appearance; she'd managed to keep her suit clean. Then, he noticed her hands, which were literally dyed red with human blood. Her blank face stared mutely ahead. Sark noticed her hair was a bit red tinged as well. "Well, Mr. Sark this young lady has proven herself beyond belief tonight. When I returned, she'd not only turned Mr. Aitoire into something inhuman, but she managed to give the room a pretty paint job, didn't you, Lynx?"
"Yes, Mistress Derevko," Lynx intoned.
"Good, now go clean yourself up," Derevko gestured for a guard. "Joseph, show her to the bathroom,"
"Yes, ma'am. Come alone you," the guard took her by the arm and led her from the room.
"Well done, Mr. Sark," Derevko smiled. "You certainly picked her well. She's a true asset; almost as good as you. I have it in mind to make her a full associate,"
"Irina, I don't think that-" Sark mumbled.
"Then don't" Derevko made to leave the room. "Come along Carson. You have a little mess to clean up downstairs,"
"Aw, Mistress do I have to?" Carson whined as he left the room.
"Lynx, what can I do?" Sark mumbled as he sank back into a chair.
* * *
A thousand colors passed before her eyes. Lynx happily sat in what she knew to be her room, playing with her dolls. The curly haired boy was there too; only he sat on her bed, reading a book. Lynx smiled and asked him if he wanted to play with her.
"Why on earth would I want to do that?" The boy said, annoyed, though he soon joined her and pretended to be all the male voices.
Her mother entered the room then, and smiled at the to playing children. Soon, a person Lynx knew to be her father entered the room, and put his hand on her mother's shoulder as he smiled at them as well.
"Momma! Poppa!" Lynx jumped up and ran over to her father.
"That's my little girl," Her father's face was blurred as well, even as Lynx was only a few inches away as he held her.
Then, gunshots erupted into the room. Lynx fell as her father let go of her. When she got up, she looked around. With screams of fear and misery, Lynx saw that all her family was dead.
"Ah!" The real Lynx jerked out of sleep and she looked bleary eyed around her Master's bedroom from her station at the door. She'd fallen asleep while standing guard. This was most unbecoming.
"Lynx, what is it?" Sark rolled over and asked while he kept his eyes shut.
"Nothing," Lynx swallowed, "Just a rat,"
"Bloody girls," Sark said sleepily. "Always afraid of everything,"
Lynx sighed and slowly, and against her will, dropped off to sleep again.
AUTHOR'S NOTE- Hello all! I meant to finish the chapter two days ago, but the creative juices just weren't going. Also, I got a major creative boost from tonight's episode of ALIAS (2-15-04). In this episode I finally found out what Sark's real name is! It was really subtle, but it was still there! I feel so great now! After two years of wondering what my fav character's name was! Now I know, and I love it!
Next episode- it jumps ahead about two months. Sark and Lynx are back in England, Sydney goes on another fun-filled mission, and Vaughn keeps up his research on Project Lifetime. The fun never ends! Lord am I tired.
Hugs and Kisses,
Tsuri