Little Child Lost

Chapter Ten

Encrypted

            Whitechapel was chilly.  Stormy gray clouds covered the sun and the entire atmosphere was kind of dreary.  The surroundings nearly depressed Sydney, but she tried to chalk it up to England's weather.  Sark noticed her shivering, so he turned the heater up in the car.  He turned off on a small path and then pulled in front of a modest size cottage, a home that almost looked welcoming.  Sydney felt almost at home already.  Sark walked up a pebbly path to the entryway.  Sydney followed, anticipating the chance to glimpse into Sark's preferences.  When she walked inside, she was thoroughly shocked.  None of the décor looked like anything she'd imagined Sark would have.  There were lace curtains, a gingham check couch and matching chair, walnut coffee table, side tables, and an entertainment center dotting around the room.  The only thing that looked like Sark inhabited the place was the heavy crystal carafe full of some kind of alcohol.  Sydney felt familiar eyes on her, so she glanced up.

"Do you approve, Sydney?"

"I have to say, this is nothing like I thought your house would be."

"What did you envision?"

"Leather and chrome."

Sark's eyebrow quirked as he began to smirk.  Sydney put her hands on her hips indignantly.

"Oh, shut up, Sark."

Sark kept the smirk on his face as he turned away from her and dropped his messenger bag on the carpeted floor.

"If you must know, I lived in this house as a child.  My mum and I did.  She sold the house when I was five.  I was seventeen when I returned to Whitechapel and the cottage was on the market.  I purchased it.  I proceeded to redecorate the house to what it once was.  Yes, it is possibly my desperate attempt at recapturing my childhood, but I don't really care."

Sydney studied Sark. She'd never really expected him to open up and actually give her a tidbit from his previous life.  She hadn't even expected Sark to explain himself to her.  She didn't mind the confession, though.  Sark turned away from prying eyes.  He had intended to tell Sydney the truth concerning the house, but he cursed himself for having wanted to.  Sydney was making him feel surprisingly comfortable.  He wanted to tell Sydney things, secrets that no one else knew.  He just needed to remind himself that Sydney had murdered his father.  He could already feel himself hardening towards her.  Sydney could tell he was closing himself off, but she wasn't sure why.  There wasn't really anything she could do about it.

"I'm going to begin my search of the disk, Sydney."

Sydney's mind flashed to the pictures she'd taken of the LAZAREY file. 

"I'm kind of tired, jet-lag and all.  I think I'll go rest."

Sark nodded his affirmation.

"The guest bedroom is the first door on your right."

Sydney smiled sweetly as she disappeared down the hall.  She was anxious to find out about Julian Lazarey.

            Irina, Jack, and Weiss pounded on the house in Galway.  They waited for a moment before Jack broke the door down.  Irina strode confidently into the foyer and glanced around.

"They aren't here."

"We haven't even searched the entire place, Irina."

"We don't need to.  They are not here.  Sark keeps his houses impeccably clean.  He always calls ahead and has a maid service come and clean the house before he arrives.  There is a layer of dust on this table and Sark would not be able to take that.  Uncleanliness is not acceptable to him.  He would have had this taken care of."

Jack sighed, realizing Irina was probably correct.  He had to resign himself to the fact that Irina understood the way Sark thought.  She would be their best bet in finding their daughter.
"All right."

            Sydney waited for the film to finish developing.  She'd made the guest bedroom into a mini-darkroom.  She searched the room for a magnifying glass while she waited for the photographs to dry.  Of all the stuff Sark had, he had to own a magnifying glass.  She finally retrieved one from the bottom drawer of the nightstand.  Sydney took the first picture and placed it under the magnifying glass.  It was a file on Andrian Lazarey.  Mostly statistics, age, weight, height, hair color, eye color, birthday, age. 

 Job History: KGB, Russian diplomat, undercover affiliation with The Man.

Family History: Son, Julian Aidan Lazarey, mother Alecksandria Stacia Petrokov.  Moved to various places from Moscow; Galway, Whitechapel, London.  Petrokov murder successful.

 Sydney's eyes widened.  The Covenant had been responsible for Sark's mother's death.  The Covenant had apparently been around for more than two years, like they'd assumed.  Alecksandria's murder had been about fifteen years ago.  Sydney sighed, wondering just how wide The Covenant's reaches went.  Russia, America, Europe?  For so many years?  Sydney wondered briefly how deep her involvement in The Covenant had been.  Had she murdered someone's mother in front of them?  Sydney sighed as she took out another picture.  This one was a picture of an old photograph with young Julian and his mother.  They were in front of an apartment building, but both looked happy.  He next picture was a snapshot of a photograph of young Julian and Sydney's mother.  Sydney gasped.  She'd never really thought about how Irina had met Sark.  In fact, she could say she'd never thought about it.  Sydney wondered about it now.  The photograph had prompted it.  Had Sark become so evil because of her mother?  He'd been scarred by seeing his mother taken from him so brutally, remained impressionable, and then been molded by Irina Derevko?  Tabula rasa, just like he'd said.  As Sydney started to analyze it, she realized something.  Had Irina been affiliated with The Covenant?  All this time or at some point or at all?  Sydney was becoming steadily more confused as she discovered more, not feeling like she was grasping a better understanding of the past.  Sydney knew she'd continue looking over the photographs, though.  She had to.  She was finally to the page that held the information about Julian Lazarey.

Julian Aidan Lazarey, Age 25

So she was right.  Sark was surprisingly young for the business, especially for the talent he displayed.  She continued reading.

Parents: Andrian Lazarey, Alecksandria Petrokov.

Born March 11, 1980

Early Life: Lived with Petrokov until 10.  Petrokov murdered in Kosovo.  Boarding School in London. 

Training: Irina Derevko in charge of training.  Previous KGB, but branched off into The Man.  Julian follow, change name to Mr. Sark.  Derevko's right hand man at age 19.

The file continued on with other known aliases and special talents, languages, known missions.

Capture by CIA 2003

At large as of 2005 with Sydney Alena Bristow alias Julia Thorne

Sydney placed the pictures in a stack and stuffed them underneath the mattress.  She should make another appearance in the living room.  She'd been back in this room for several hours.

            Sark cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck.  He was feeling awfully stiff from sitting in front of his laptop for such a long while.  What he wouldn't give for a good massage.  He hadn't gotten any further on the disk.  It was a challenge.  Most of the files were encrypted and he had to give The Covenant that.  They could really write an encryption program.  Of course, it was giving him a little too much trouble.  He stared at the screen, black and mocking as he pressed a few more keys.  He jumped when he felt hot hands touch the back of his neck.  He hadn't heard Sydney come in, though he instinctively knew it was her.  His heart rate quickened and he hated it.  He hated how he reacted when Sydney was near.  He felt like he didn't have any control and she was hardly even touching him.  She spread her fingers gently and stroked his neck.

"You're tense."

"I've been sitting here for hours, Sydney."

"I know.  I've been here, too."

Sydney knew why she'd changed her behavior towards Sark.  She felt so much sympathy towards Sark after everything she'd discovered about Julian.  She could even see him turning evil.  Irina had a gift in bringing the bad side out in everyone.  Sydney imagined Sark was confused by the change in her behavior, but she didn't really care.  She looked down and decided Sark didn't either.  His eyes were shut and she could see his breathing hitch.  Sydney let her hand run down his shoulder as she turned to lean on the desk.  Sark's eyes popped open and the look on his face was completely priceless.  It was honest, no game face in sight.  Sydney liked it.  Unfortunately, his visage clouded over and he was Mr. Sark again.

"Did you have a nice nap?"  He was being so polite.  Sydney was beginning to get tired of him and his manners.  He could brutally murder someone in cold blood without flinching, but he always made sure to be polite.  He needed to get his priorities straight.

"Yeah.  Did you find anything on the disk?"

Sark shook his head, though he looked far from being defeated.  Another major personality trait of Mr. Sark.

"No.  The Covenant is just too bloody adept at making encryption software at the moment.  I'll decode the software.  It's just taking me longer than I'm accustomed to."

Sydney nodded, but couldn't stop smiling.
"What?"  Sark snapped.

"Since when have you cared if I smiled at you or not?"

"Like that, I do.  It's like you have some kind of secret.  I don't like it."

Sydney said mischievously, "You're just tired.  You're beginning to see things."

Sark blinked, trying to avoid the sleep that was threatening to overcome him.  Sydney was right.  He was tired, but he knew he wasn't seeing things.  He could read Sydney Bristow fairly well.  And he knew when she was up to something.

"Sleep, Julian."

His head snapped up in surprise.  She shrugged off the look he shot her and acted as if there was nothing out of the ordinary in calling him Julian.

"I can work on decrypting the disk while you sleep."

Sark shook his head, denying the need for sleep.  Sleep was a weakness.  Sydney was feeling impulsive.  She suddenly wanted to nurture Sark, take care of him.  It was ridiculous.  Sark didn't need anyone to take care of him.  He was perfectly capable.  He probably didn't want anyone to.  And she knew she shouldn't want to.  Still, Sydney bent down and kissed his cheek softly.

"Go."

She didn't know if she should have kissed him or not.  It wasn't really a big deal, but considering their relationship, it might be.  Sark stood, so apparently it wasn't an issue, at least not one he would discuss. 

"I'll be in my bedroom if you need anything.  It's the door at the end of the hall."

Sydney took Sark's chair before he could change his mind and then watched his retreating form.  She sighed before beginning her own search of a key to the software.