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** I am in no way associated with Alias. The usual disclaimers apply.

PART THIRTEEN

Marshall fidgeted with his semi-automatic weaponry and sighed. They had been gone for ten minutes and he had started to develop an ulcer in his stomach already.

Weiss, Sydney and Vaughn had begun stage two of the operation to save Sark, disabling the defenses around the base in preparation for Sark's escape attempt. Sark wasn't meant to escape - it was a diversion to allow the three agents inside the facility - but he still faced a great risk, and he swallowed nervously as he sat rigidly on the edge of his table.

What if we can't get you out?

Sydney asked Sark as she clipped a wire delicately and disabled a laser security system just outside a basement entrance.

I'll be killed, most likely… within the next couple of days, probably. But I gather that's more warning than most people get… Usually it's just 'mind that bus', 'what bus?', splat!

Sark shrugged even though he knew she wouldn't be able to see it.

That's not funny

Sydney wrinkled her nose and Vaughn looked at her enquiringly, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

I rather thought it was

A smile pulled Sark's mouth into a characteristically wry grin.

At that moment Moore entered his stark white cell.

"You don't really have that much to smile about..."

"I still have my life..." Sark almost breathed the words out, his voice no more than a long cylinder of desolation.

"Not for long..." Moore spouted in a New Jersey accent.

Sark slowly moved from where he sat and walked toward her.

"Why do you pretend to be somebody who you never have been?" He circled her slowly, almost predatorily. Moore looked at him casually, clearly not threatened.

"Why do you? Or does every Russian have a British accent these days, Mr Sark - or is it Julian Lazeray?" She flicked her eyebrows up and smiled victoriously.

Sark was momentarily stunned by her use of his real name.

"What's wrong, Julian, no witty comeback? No sarcastic remark for that one?"

"I guess we really aren't that different from each other after all, Marie Fabriese..." Sark's voice was hoarse.

Moore swallowed. "Marie doesn't exist any more. She's dead."

"No she's not - she's still a part of you... whether you acknowledge her existence or not - you are Marie, the daughter of a French farmer, just like I am Julian, the son of a Russian diplomat. We are who we are. Nothing can change that - ever."

He could see tears stinging at her eyes. But her face remained defiant.

"Philosophize as much as you want, Mr Sark, it doesn't change the fact that very soon, you will be dead..."

"If you really wanted to kill me, you'd have done it by now, I mean, what are you gonna do, talk me to death?"

Tarra lunged at him suddenly with a scalpel, its sharp edges finding the exposed flesh of his stomach.

He felt the pain shoot through him and so did Sydney, her hands fumbling as she worked on another alarm.

She looked to Vaughn. "We gotta hurry..."

Vaughn nodded knowingly.

***

Sark lay absolutely still. He could feel the wet of blood tricking down his back and arms. Sometimes he wished he wasn't such a smart-ass. That he didn't have this great big foot stuck in his mouth that made him say the wrong things. It would save him a lot of pain.

He watched - barely conscious - as some minions mopped up his blood, a dark stain on the pure white floor. He almost felt bad for messing it, it was that perfect.

Perfect. Just like Sydney. His mind wandered listlessly to thoughts of her - white, pure white, so smooth and white and flawless like the floor... Like this room... Not like him. He thought of all the people he had killed and wondered if they saw white went they died, or if all they saw was black, the black, endless death he gave them. Him. Black.

He half smiled as his eyelids fluttered closed.

Sark! Wake up, focus, stay with us. We're almost there.

I can't move... Sydney, I can't...

It's alright, we'll come in to get you...

Syd, just leave me here... it's not even worth it...

Like hell it's not worth it - you owe me Julian, you owe me a lot, I'm not about to let you die now. Not on my watch.

He smiled. Julian smiled.

***

Weiss dropped through the roof and Vaughn steadied him, lowering him slowly toward the control panels.

"Almost there..." Wiess' voice crackled slowly over coms. Marshall had activated the device that was blocking their radio waves and he smiled proudly as their first radio communication was made. The others held their breath, hoping that it worked.

"Stop!" Weiss reached for the panel.

"Wait for my signal..." Sydney watched her watch. "Now!"

Weiss pushed in a button at the same time Sydney did in a hangar nearby.

"Marshall, are they down?"

"Umm... well technically they're just on 'pause', you know, like you do with the, um, remote control on the VCR, what am I saying, you probably have a DVD player..."

"Marshall, are we good to go?" Sydney's voice was urgent.

"Errr... yeah."

"Let's go..." Sydney jumped to her feet and started sprinting, while Weiss dropped quickly but silently to the ground and Vaughn followed.

"You know what to do Marshall..." Sydney sighed, hoping their plan would work.

***

Marshall waited 5 minutes before he pulled the remote control Sydney had asked him to hook up to the helicopter from his pack. He turned his laptop on and entered a program that was a three dimensional map of the area.

He switched on the remote and pressed a button, the sound of the helicopter starting signaled his projects success and he smiled proudly again, bowing to an invisible audience. "I know, I know, Marshall Flinkman has done it again..."

The helicopter rose from the trees behind him and he saw the program on his screen come to life as the scenery changed. He had remembered telling Sydney it would be just like playing his Playstation, but as he looked to the helicopter behind him, its massive gun turret almost glinting in the sun, he knew this moment surpassed any other in his life as a CIA employee. He, Marshall Flinkman, was about to save the day.

He moved the joystick-looking device on the remote forward and the helicopter flew over top of him, toward The Farm, and victory.

***

Sydney ran faster than she ever had in her entire life, taking out guards as she went. All her training, every moment of her life had to led to this. She felt the burn of acid in her muscles but she kept going. She could hear the helicopter closing in and she knew she didn't have much time.

Vaughn and Weiss followed behind, following her to Sark.