PART THREE
"I count 5 guards; it's going to be tough to get on that boat…" Sydney involuntarily wrinkled her forehead.
Moore looked at her incredulously. "Sydney, they're men…"
***
Sydney approached the boat at a leisurely pace, her hips swinging rhythmically to an internal tune and her long blonde wig tumbling about her face in the wind. A guard on the boat saw her approach wearing a small white string bikini that left little to the imagination, and subconsciously licked his lips.
Moore walked up alongside her, the young woman slightly shorter than Sydney, but filling out her black bikini far better. They walked until they were only a short distance away from the large yacht, when Sydney flicked out her towel and lay down in the brilliant Australian sun. Moore followed suit, laying on her back and placing her beach bag underneath her head as a pillow. Her bright red wig scattered mockingly in the shape of a halo around her head.
"You know" Moore said just loud enough for the guards to hear, "… You'll get burnt if you don't put sun screen on…"
"Do you mind?" Sydney held up the bottle of sunscreen to Moore.
Moore smiled. "Not at all…"
The guard watched as Moore lathered Sydney with sunscreen, and the girls noticed him using his communicator.
"We're in…" Moore whispered to Syd.
Sydney couldn't help the victorious smile that crossed her face. "Too easy..!"
***
"It is so nice of you to let us have a ride on your boat…" Moore giggled in a perfect Australian accent.
Sydney was almost shocked by the legitimacy of her accent, and wondered for a moment if the New Jersey drawl was a fake too.
Rufuso spoke slowly, his words deep and cavernous. "Well, it's not everyday I have the pleasure of the company of two beautiful young women…"
Syd smiled coyly. "I find that hard to believe Mr…?"
"Rufuso, just Rufuso…" His voice was thick with a German brogue.
"Excuse me… where is the ladies room?" Moore smiled at Rufuso and his bodyguard.
"Just below deck to the left, darling…" Rufuso smiled at her, his eyes wandering.
Moore disappeared below deck and reappeared a few moments later. She tilted her head to one side and looked toward the guard on deck. "I'm sorry, could you show me?"
The bodyguard pursed his lips together. "Sure…"
Sydney took a bottle of sunscreen out of Moore's beach bag. She waved it playfully at Rufuso. "Could you?"
"No problem, dear…" His words seemed to reverberate around the deck.
Syd walked over to him and handed him the bottle, turning her back to him.
Rufuso squirted a small amount of sunscreen into his palm and rubbed them together slowly, contemplating.
Sydney folded her arms and shook her head as she watched him slump to the floor as the sedative in the sunscreen took effect. "Men…"
Moore emerged from below deck sweaty and breathing heavy. "The guards are taken care of. They were weak, weak men, and might I add, very badly trained fighters."
Sydney threw her the beach bag and Moore pulled two dark, sleek 9mms from it, setting them comfortably in holsters she strapped around her bare thighs . "Now let's take care of Rufuso."
***
Rufuso woke groggily to the vision of Moore leaning over him menacingly.
"How are ya?"
He blinked confusedly at her New Jersey twang.
Sydney hovered behind her, arms folded across her chest defensively. "We know you work for the Alliance. We know you recruited a CIA agent."
Moore broke in. "You'll give us the name of your asset, or there will be pain." She pulled a long, thin piece of metal from her beach bag. "Lots of pain."
He smiled defiantly. "My dear, threats will get you nowhere…"
Moore tapped the piece of metal lightly against her leg and then stabbed it through Rufuso's hand with force. He didn't' even wince.
"Neither will that…" His words were dry, but Sydney could read the confusion behind his eyes.
"Why not?" She looked at him earnestly.
"Because I didn't recruit an agent from the CIA, nor did anyone in my company, or that of the Alliance."
"He's lying…" Moore narrowed her eyes characteristically.
"I don't think so…" Sydney searched Rufuso's face. Her years as a spy had made her intuitive, and she trusted that this man was telling them the truth.
"Your sources have lied to you, and your agency has been misled. There is more than one mole within the CIA…
Rufuso's deep voice gurgled in his throat as a shot rang out. A warm, fine spray of blood splattered Moore's face. She looked up from the chair where the German was restrained, almost ripping her guns from their holsters as she directed them at Sark.
"Nice of you ladies to do the hard work for me…" Sark's voice was much deeper than Sydney remembered, and as he stood before her in his black rubber diving suit, she noticed that his shoulders seemed to have broadened since the last time she saw him.
Sark's eyes wandered to Sydney. "Look who's back from the dead…"
"Look who's all growed up…" Sydney shot back condescendingly.
Moore's guns remained leveled at Sark. "Drop your weapon!"
Sark smiled wryly as he let his gun slide from his hand and hit the deck with a thud. "Well Moore, it's nice to see you again too." He motioned to Rufuso. "What did he tell you?"
Moore's voice was steady. "I'm the one with the guns, so I ask the questions"
Sark's confident grin deepened. "But I'm the one with the sharp wit and biting comebacks… Oh, and a fully armed nuclear submarine."
Behind Sark, Sydney saw the water breaking as a submarine surfaced.
"Oh shit…" Moore flicked her guns around her fingers and opened fire. She heard flesh tearing as a bullet penetrated Sark's shoulder, but the waves caused by the surfacing submarine shook the yacht and she fell, cascading down the tilting deck helplessly, her guns skidding from her hands.
Sark scrambled for his gun, rolling into position and returning fire. Moore tumbled back toward him as the yacht tipped the other way. He scooped up one of her guns as it hurtled past him.
Gripping onto a railing for support, Sydney reached for the piece of metal Moore had used to threaten Rufuso and aimed it at Sark.
Moore was stopped from rolling off the deck as Sark planted a foot firmly on her stomach, leaning against the rails for support. Training one gun on her, he directed the other at Sydney Bristow. "I wouldn't do that if I were you…" He threatened in a clipped British accent, his words crisp.
Moore looked helpless pinned beneath his weight, and Sydney knew she couldn't take him on alone. She sighed and dropped the metal blade, its eerie resonance echoing as Sark's men boarded the yacht wearing diver's suits and carrying more than enough firepower.
"Oh shit…" Moore whispered under her breath.
***
Sydney sat straddling a chair, her hands cuffed to the bottom of the seat and her feet cuffed to the legs. She heard Moore picking at her handcuffs next to her.
"Can you get them undone?"
"No… Say, your bikini doesn't have an under wire, does it? I need a thin piece of metal"
Sydney turned her head to look at Moore, who was cuffed to a roofing fixture by her hands. Her feet were manacled together, and she was almost hanging. The blood had drained from her hands, making them numb and difficult to use to pick the cuffs. She sighed. "I think we're in trouble, Bristow…"
Sydney looked at her in disbelief. "You think?"
They could hear the sound of gunshots from above deck, as Sark and his men killed Rufuso's unconscious guards and tossed them overboard. "We're next…" Sydney whispered.
Moore shook her head, the movement causing her to swing unsteadily from side to side. "I have a plan".
They heard footsteps on the stairs leading below deck. Sydney looked dubiously toward Moore. "Just trust me, okay?" Moore said determinedly.
Sark appeared in the doorway, his diving suit cut off one shoulder and a bandage soaking up intense red blood in its place. "It seems you have failed your mission, Agent Bristow…"
Sydney glared at him, trying not to notice how his hair had grown slightly longer in the two years she had been missing, and was dripping small droplets of salty water onto his face and neck.
"And Moore, working with the CIA? I am surprised". He tilted his head to one side as he gazed at her, mockingly disappointed.
"They pay well, and I get a dental plan…" She stared him down fiercely, her eyes flaming. She hated to fail; it was something she was not accustomed to.
Sark reloaded his gun with ammo and took the safety off slowly, a menacing yet ironic grin on his face. "Sorry ladies… it's nothing personal".
As he leveled his gun at Moore, Sydney thought she almost did see a flash of remorse in his eyes. As quickly as it had appeared, however, it was gone, and his finger lingered on the trigger. Sydney closed her eyes.
"Wait!" Moore almost screamed the word, her voice emanating hoarsely as one long, desperate sound.
Startled, Sark angled his gun away from her. He was momentarily stunned by the courageous agent's uncharacteristic desperation, but recomposed himself quickly.
Sydney released a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
Moore looked Sark up and down seductively, her voice shaking only slightly, her confidence back in place. "Maybe we could come to some other arrangement…"
Sydney thought she saw Sark bite his bottom lip as he walked toward Moore slowly, stopping less than an inch away from her face, his body pressed against hers.
With one gloved hand, he reached up and wiped the smatterings of Rufuso's blood from her face, his fingers gliding over her cheeks. Moore's breath caught in her throat as she felt the cold steel of the barrel of his gun pressing into her stomach. With one hand still cupping her face, he dragged the gun up to her head, allowing it to slide warningly over her skin, and stopping it right between her eyes.
"As temptin' as that may sound, I don't think you could handle all my employers too… and they're the ones that want you dead" Sark's voice was husky, thick with an Irish brogue Sydney hadn't heard in his accent before. Moore also recognized the change, and smiled smugly. Men were weak.
"Well what if I worked for your employers as well…?" Moore looked him straight in the eye, her gaze unwavering.
"You'd turn on the CIA?"
"Who needs a dental plan?" Moore tilted her head sarcastically.
Sark nodded. "Fair enough… your first assignment…" he signaled toward Sydney. "… Is to kill Agent Bristow…"
TO BE CONTINUED
