Little Child Lost
Chapter Seven
Arrival
Sark's mood hadn't improved considerably since leaving Buenos Aires. Sydney did her best to stay out of his direct line of fire, only speaking when he spoke to her. Sark wondered briefly if Sydney had lost all of her spunk. It hadn't occurred to him that part of her silence came from a deep well of guilt bubbling inside of her. She was horrified at what little she knew of her last two years and she dreaded what else she might discover. Every little piece of the puzzle her life had become seemed to connect into this horrific picture that no one wanted to view, including herself. Yet it was something she was drawn to, like being told not to look at it and having to do so just to satisfy her curiosity. She didn't know how to explain it to Sark. She wasn't even sure she wanted to explain it to him. Maybe it was better if he didn't know what she was thinking. Sark seemed to have a lot of other things on his mind. Apparently money didn't solve everything, nor did power. That breakthrough must have crushed Sark. Sydney closed her eyes, allowing the breeze to ruffle her hair and sweep through her body. The breeze was comforting, though bitingly cold, since they'd arrived in Kosovo. She tightened her jacket as a sudden feeling of deja vous rushed over her. She had a sudden need to run and hide in a hole. She didn't think Sark would be too fond of that. She tilted her head up to see what Sark was doing. He had stopped in front of a window, an odd look on her face. It worried Sydney. "Sark? What's going on?"
He shook his head, not speaking, but the look remained. Sydney slowed her pace to match Sark's. He seemed to be on a Sunday afternoon walk, not in any hurry, not hiding from a major terrorist cell. Sydney didn't know if she should prod or not. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have bothered her to pry into his thoughts, but after the last 48 hours, she wasn't sure how to act. She was confused, a feeling she long since despised and was becoming quite accustomed to no matter how hard she fought it. As a sudden need to fight everything that had happened her, she decided she wouldn't let the subject drop.
"Sark, what's wrong?"
He ignored her, whether it was consciously or unconsciously, and it annoyed her further.
"Mr. Sark, tell me what the hell is making you so weird!"
Sark sighed. "I've been here before."
"Kosovo? So?"
"I was a boy."
Seeing Sark as a little boy just seemed weird to her. She preferred to think of him as just appearing from the depths of Hell, no mother or anything. Unfortunately, she'd seen that he had a father; so inch-by-inch her enjoyable fantasy was deteriorating. She studied Sark's face and he seemed to have fallen into a happier time. Was his childhood happy? Without a father, as she had heard, but perhaps a mother. She sighed and rubbed her hands together to keep warm. Kosovo was cold. She didn't know if she liked it or not. It kept her on her toes, which she didn't exactly mind. Sark continued wordlessly down the sidewalk, but Sydney glanced back at the window he'd stopped at. A painter was scraping off a previous sign, but she could make out the outline of k's Candies. "What was k's Candies?"
"Hm?" Sark seemed oblivious to the words flowing out of her mouth.
"The window said k's Candies."
"It wasn't anything." Sark grabbed her arm and jerked her away from the street, not wanting her to scrutinize any farther.
*A ten-year-old boy stood next to a woman, who had long blond curls and crystal blue eyes. They were very obviously mother and son. She held a protective arm around the boy, pulling him close to her.
"I know you don't want to go to school, Julian, but you're of the age to be sent to boarding school."
"Mum, I can attend school in London and still live with you."
"Darling boy, it is what is best. Your father insists that you attend."
"My father insists? I've never even met him, Mum. You don't talk about him. I didn't even think you talked to him."
"He has been keeping an eye on you, Julian, even if he is not present in our lives."
"Why do I have to do what he says?"
"Your father is a very important man and he knows what will be best for you."
Tears welled up in the woman's eyes as Julian leaned his head against her. She didn't want to send him away. She never had. She was afraid of what would happen to him, to her. They'd always been together, when no one else was around. Andrian knew best, though, as he always thought. He insisted that the Hemry Boarding School would be the best option for Julian. They had an excellent English department and Julian did love to read. Andrian had told her about one of the professors there, Irin Dero. He seemed almost smitten with the woman, which didn't shock her. Andrian was quite a ladies' man. She'd fallen for it. She began walking, intertwining her arm with Julian's. She had taken him away to Kosovo for a quick vacation before he left for school. She had a sinking feeling and she knew better than to ignore them. She wanted to make sure she spent as much time with Julian as she could before he had to leave. She stopped in front of a store, Sark's Candies.
"Let's buy some fudge, Sweet Boy, all right?" It was more of a demand than a question.
"All right, Mum." He replied dutifully, unable to overlook his mother's sadness. He followed her into the small room as sugar and chocolate attacked their senses. He smiled warmly at his Mum as she went to the counter to place her order.*
Jack Bristow paced his hotel room. He was tired of waiting for Irina to show up. Weiss didn't know what he was waiting for. Jack didn't really know how to tell Weiss he'd been in contact with the missing spy for the last two years and had invited her to be part of the mission. More like she had insisted on being a part of this. So Weiss sat in a chair, flipping channel after channel, cursing himself for not learning more languages. Jack grabbed his gun and pointed it at the door when he saw the doorknob turn.
"Interesting way to say hello, Jack." Irina stood in the doorway, looking as beautiful and professional and deadly as always. Weiss jumped out of his chair, unable to comprehend what was happening.
"You look wonderful, Irina."
"You too. You seem tired."
"I've been worrying non stop about Sydney since she disappeared with Sark."
"Even after I told you she was okay?"
"You think I actually believed you?"
Irina smiled softly, almost her patented, know-it-all smirk, but not quite. Jack glanced over at Weiss, who just stood silently in shock.
"You remember Agent Eric Weiss, do you not?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"You shot me.
Does that help at all?"
Weiss said bitterly.
"Ah, no, it doesn't narrow it down a whole lot."
Jack closed his eyes in silent prayer, knowing that Irina was joking, but Weiss would definitely not take it that way.
"Weiss has been a good friend to Sydney since she returned. He's agreed to help us locate Sydney and Sark and submit to whatever course of action we see fit."
"Splendid. We should head over to Strasa 9. We need to scout the area. The Covenant's headquarters are found somewhere around there. No one is sure what their front company is, so it's going to be a guessing game. Come now."
Jack motioned for Weiss to follow her as Jack grabbed an extra clip from his suitcase. He wasn't sure if he could trust Irina, and he was pretty sure he couldn't trust Sark to take care of his daughter.
Sydney waited until Sark left to investigate Strasa 9. She scanned the room for cameras, in case Sark didn't trust her to be alone in the hotel room. She wouldn't doubt it and in this case, he would be right in doubting her. She found none, so she grabbed his laptop from underneath the bed and propped it up on the desk. The briefcase held a complicated lock, but Sydney had faith in her abilities. She pulled out a couple of bobby pins from her hair and began to work with the lock. It snapped open easily, but a secondary trigger popped up. "Password Now."
Sydney nearly cursed. Password? She'd never seen Sark use a password. Maybe the briefcase could detect certain body signatures specific to Sark. Or perhaps he'd set it, knowing exactly what she would do. What would he use for a password? The Man? No. Sark? No. He didn't exactly have any pets with first names that she knew of. He probably used something from an obscure conversation that only he would remember. What had he said once? What had he called humans once?
*Sydney was sulking in the chair in the hotel room. Sark was tired of watching her pout. She was becoming a little too drama queen for his taste.
"Honestly, Sydney, stop acting so childishly. So you have no memory of the last two years. Humans have always been tabula rasa. Each of us is formed in another's image, another's dream. As children, we are forced to do what we are told to, and as we grow older, we subject the younger generation to the same thing. You simply are a tabula rasa now. Be careful of who will mold you, because when you are this vulnerable, someone is likely to take advantage."
"Like you?"
Sark smirked boyishly.
"Exactly like me."*
Tabula Rasa. Blank Slate. "Tabula Rasa." Sydney spoke it firmly. The briefcase unlatched. Sydney smiled triumphantly. Sark wasn't usually this predictable. Knowing her luck, this was all part of his ingenious plan. She booted up the computer and started to explore the desktop. He had several encrypted files, one title Thorne, one entitled Lazarey, one named Julian, one Organization, and one named Elisia. Sydney didn't know which one to choose first. Thorne was about her, but what of the others. She clicked on Julian and a main menu came up. Sydney clicked on the first box and a picture flicked in. A little boy stared back at her, with a woman holding him close. The only thing that gave away his identity was the smirk. It was still there, even though it was a bit child-like. Sydney clicked into another file. It was encrypted. She didn't have time to come up with the code. She clicked into the Internet and typed in k's Candies+Kosovo. She waited for the search engine to find what she was looking for. Sark's Candies Property Finally Bought after 14 Year Vacancy!
The article continued on to tell of a woman gunned down buying chocolates with her 10-year-old son. Then it continued to tell how no one would buy the property until a couple months ago. There weren't any details, but Sydney had a sinking feeling that this little boy was Julian who was, of course, Sark. She wanted to read more, but she heard footsteps coming towards the door. Sydney quickly turned the computer off and locked the case back up. She slid it under the bed and flopped up on top of it, just as Sark walked inside.
"Sydney…I believe it will be safe for us to break in tonight. Will you be ready?"
Sydney nodded obediently, not trusting herself to talk. How horrible for him to have seen his mother die. If that was what had happened. She couldn't even be sure.
Sark shut the door to the bathroom and Sydney heard the water turn on. She sighed loudly. What was she supposed to do now?