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PART TEN

Sydney grunted as she slid along the ground beside Sark, her eyebrows characteristically furrowed.

He had I'm So Excited stuck in his head and it was driving her crazy.

Cut it out. Sydney sent him a volatile brainwave.

I'm so excited
And I just can't hide it
I'm about too lose control and I think I like it

She could hear laughter muffled by his persistent singing.

I'm about to lose control if you do not stop singing that ridiculous song. Sydney grunted again.

Fine, Fine, fine. Spoil my fun.

Sydney stopped crawling and turned to Sark incredulously, her arms, face and stomach covered in mud.

"This is fun?"

She spoke the words, but Sark also heard her think 'idiot'. His smile deepened.

"It's awfully quiet out there..." Weiss' voice crackled over the communications piece.

"No it's not, that's the problem." Sydney said stiffly, although Weiss detected the hint of amusement in her voice.

He knew she enjoyed Sark's company, he also knew she would never admit that to him or anyone else - or herself.

"Okay, preparing to go radio silent. Any last words?" Weiss' voice was nervous. He had a bad feeling about this mission.

"Did you really have to use the term 'last words'? Sark's haughty accent scoffed at Weiss.

"Sorry pal. Alright then, you're on your own from here..." Weiss' voice crackled off.

I'm so excited
And I just can't hide it....

Shut up.

Fine.

"You know..." Sydney said aloud. "I never pictured you as a disco man.

"Oh really?" Sark raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, really."

"And what kind of music did you think I'd listen to...?"

Sydney screwed her face up in mock thought. "I do not know... Marilyn Manson?"

Sydney heard Sark laughing in his head, even though his face remained completely blank. She wondered how he could be so multiple - how he could think one thing and do another.

"Quite easily..." Sark's voice muffled as he rolled over and kept sliding toward the Covenant training facility masquerading as a farm.

Damn. Sydney had momentarily forgotten that Sark could hear her thoughts.

She heard him chuckle and she mentally reminded herself not to think of him naked.

Almost as soon as she'd thought it she had regretted it. Sark's laughter intensified.

"Hey, covert mission. Featured word COVERT. As in, they're not supposed to know we're here..." Sydney scowled at him.

His laughing ceased, but Sydney could still hear him gurgling with humour in his head.

The device Marshall had constructed to allow Sark and Sydney to communicate via thoughts was confusing - if not unnerving.

Although she could hear distinct thoughts - thoughts at the forefront of Sark's mind, there were shadows - murmurs, whispers, reverberating around her head. These were background thoughts, Marshall had explained. Thoughts not necessary to the mission. But Sydney had a strange compulsion to discover these hidden thoughts of Sark's - she found herself wanting to know everything about him.

We're here... Sark stopped underneath some bush near the perimeter fence, and Sydney slid up beside him. He was close to her - too close - and she could feel his breath on her neck.

Okay... this is where we split up... Sark hesitated for a moment and Sydney caught a flicker in his eyes. She tried to delve deeper into what he was thinking but was blocked by his incessant singing.

I'm so excited
And I just can't hide it
I'm about too lose control and I think I like it

Sydney frowned as she watched Sark darting across the field.

For a brief moment the singing stopped, and Sydney suddenly realized why he had been annoying her with that song for hours. He was trying to conceal something - his true thoughts.

Instantly she knew what he had been trying to tell her in the briefing room after everyone else had left. His stammered thank-yous, his uncertain tone - he had been trying to say goodbye.

Sydney's breath caught as the realization hurtled through her. Sark was escaping.

She leapt to her feet and ran toward him, regardless of whether or not she was going to blow their cover.

Her only thoughts - her one thought - was that she could not let him get away. She had abandoned the mission as soon as his plan had been made clear to her.

"Sark!"

She yelled into the still night air.

He turned momentarily to gauge her distance behind him.

Featured word: 'COVERT', Sydney. Sark's thoughts were of her - always of her.

You know you can't get away... She knew it was pointless trying to reason with him.

On the contrary... Either I will escape or I will be killed trying. Either way, I won't be going back to the CIA.

Sydney raised her gun, leveling it at Sark's fleeing form. If she fired she knew she could get him - but she also knew she would give their position away.

She was going to have to break radio silence and take her chances. She clicked on her comm unit.

"Base camp this is Mountaineer. We have a situation. Sark is trying to escape."

"What? Sydney, you're not supposed to be using... what? he's escaping?" Weiss couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I'll send in an extraction team. Syd I do not think you should pursue him - it's too dangerous."

"I am not gonna let this son-of-a-bitch get away." Sydney couldn't explain why, but she felt betrayed by Sark... Her first thoughts were of his betrayal to their strange friendship - not that he had killed her best friend and countless other people or that he was an international terrorist - but that he had deceived her - used her - lied to her.

I didn't deceive you, Sydney. I just didn't tell you I was planning to escape.

She hated that he could still hear her thoughts.

Bullshit. You used the way I feel about you to escape.

The way you feel about me? Sark sounded genuinely surprised.

Don't flatter yourself. I meant that we had sort of become... friends.

I'm so excited
And I just can't hide it
I'm about too lose control and I think I like it

He was hiding something again.

"Sydney, the team is on their way. Head straight to the extraction point." Weiss was insistent.

"I can not just let him get away. Not like this..."

"Sydney, it's not worth your life."

"Tell her to let him go..."

Weiss turned at the sound of Director Whatts' booming voice.

"Sir?" Weiss looked up questioningly. The rest of the comm team looked at him confusedly.

A team of NSA agents entered behind him and moved toward the comm stations.

"Tell your men to vacate their stations." Whatts' looked Weiss in the eye, his voice commanding.

"Sir, we are in the middle of an operation..." Weiss stammered, unsure of what action to take.

"Yes, and now it's my operation."

"Not when my agent is in the field..." He stood to level his eyes with Whatts, the two men facing off.

"Let them take over..." Dixon entered with an entourage. "I'm not happy about this either Weiss, but this is above you and me..."

Weiss backed away reluctantly, his men following suit.

Whatt's picked up a communications headset.

"Agent Bristow, this is Deputy-Director Whatts. Do not pursue the suspect. I repeat, do not pursue Mr Sark."

"Whatts?" Sydney barked into her comm piece. "Where's Weiss?"

"Agent Weiss is no longer in control of this operation... I am."

Sydney ran to a block of building Sark had disappeared behind, stepping over an unconscious guard.

She searched the darkened buildings for Sark, startling as the facility's main alarm began to sound.

"I've been made!"

"Sydney get out of there!" Weiss yelled at her desperately.

"I am not letting him get away" Sydney's voice was firm, determined.

"Then you put yourself willingly at risk." Whatts raised an eyebrow calmly.

"What do you know that I don't? Cos I have the feeling that I am not being told everything..."

Whatts boomed back at her. "Let's just say that this operation has gone according to plan."

"What? What aren't you telling me?" Sydney was frantic.

As if in answer to some prewritten cue, Sydney heard gunshots, and winced as Sark's thoughts of pain flew through mind.

He's been shot.

She rounded a corner to find Sark lying motionless on the ground. Her eyes traveled up - drawn by a familiar laugh - to Tarra Moore sitting atop a black stallion, his neck misted with Sark's blood.

Smilingly chillingly Moore blew the top of her shotgun flamboyantly.

"Look at me, I'm John freakin' Wayne. Except, you know, female... and evil."

Sydney stared uneasily and almost fearfully at the young free agent.

Sark... are you okay?

Sydney had never wanted to hear Sark's voice so desperately. Silently she willed him to think or say something - anything - hell even a few bars of I'm So Excited.

She looked toward his still form.

Sark?