Little Child Lost

Chapter Fifteen

Veritas

            Sark apparently had a beach house in Haiti.  It was beautiful to say the least.  The Atlantic Ocean lapped on the sandy beaches, a view that could be seen through the windows on the south side of the house. He liked Haiti.  He felt peaceful and in control there, even when his life was spinning out of his control. Sark wouldn't dwell on the way things were turning out.  He would simply put things back on track, beginning with the interrogation of Lazarey.  Sydney had secured Lazarey to a steel kitchen chair.  Lazarey looked aggravated and uncomfortable, which didn't really bother Sark.  Sydney was seated on a bar stool, sipping a bottle of water and watching the man before her with a studious look on her face.  Sark held a knife and a kerosene torch, a glittering look in his eyes that Sydney didn't miss.  Sark took a chair from the table and sat into it stiffly.

"We'll begin at two years ago.  Sydney disappeared after a particularly brutal battle with her cloned roommate.  She passed out and that is the last she remembers.  We've dug up some information about the last two years, but we want to know what you know.  Sydney believed she'd murdered you, but apparently that is not the truth, seeing as you are alive.  Why did you fake your death?"

Lazarey bit his lip and tilted his head.  He waited for a minute than asked flippantly, "Why do you think I'd fake my death?"

Sark looked displeased.  Sark displeased was not a good combination.  Sark could be smooth, serene, confident, content, angry, just about anything but displeased.  Sark lifted the knife before Lazarey.

"Now, I do not appreciate your answering questions with questions.  I expect answers not childish diversion tactics.  Do answer the question, or I'll have to find a new way to ask you.  Believe me, I won't have any problems doing so.  I'm not particularly fond of you."

Lazarey turned his head to plead with Sydney.  She stared back at him evenly and took another gulp of her water.  She wanted to know as well, so she wasn't about to stop Sark from using his unsavory methods.  She took a brief moment to realize what she was thinking.  Perhaps Sark was rubbing off on her.

"I wanted out of The Covenant.  I was unhappy with the new management."

"New management being Sloane."
"Yes.  He was a little too I-have-brought-on-the-Rambaldi-works-worship-me for my taste."

"So you discussed it with Sydney…"

"Julia, actually.  She'd been an assassin for several months.  She was starting to have flashes, though.  Flashes of another life she didn't remember.  She couldn't place any of the faces or any of the events, but they seemed like memories to her.  I was high ranking in The Covenant, but I was not informed of the plan to take Sydney from her family and brainwash her.  I believed that she was Julia Thorne for quite a while.  Sloane had it kept from me.  As did Irina."
"My mother knew where I was this whole time?"
"Yes, Irina knew."

"Was she a part of it?"
"Not really.  She was just aware of Sloane's plan.  She knew of the Prophecy."
"Which was?"
"I wasn't privy to that information."
"Seems like you weren't as high up as you liked to think."  Sydney blurted.
"Yes, so it seems."
"How high up was my mother?"
"She was one of the three in the council."

"The council?"
"Sloane, Irina, and Bomani."

"So she's deeply involved in The Covenant."
"So it would seem."

"It would seem.  Meaning she isn't."

"I didn't say that."
Sark shifted in his chair, changing off the subject of Irina.  "How did it come that Julia helped you fake your murder?"

"I agreed to help her recovered these flashes, put names to the faces."

"So she knew where you lived."
"Before, oh yes.  She helped me set up a new apartment that was supposed to be Covenant Free.  She came to me once a month at different times and days.  We would have gathered new information and we would try to piece it together."

"So you were my friend. "

"I suppose so. "

Sark cut in, "Did Julia ever recover all her memories?"
"She was on the way.  She'd discovered her father, a man named Marshall and another man named Vaughn."

"Yes?"
"Then one month she didn't come anymore.  Ever again, actually.  That is until yesterday."

"So you don't know why she was brainwashed?"
"No idea."
Sydney slid off the stool and walked closer to Lazarey.  Sark seemed to be nervous about something, though to everyone except Sydney he appeared as serene as he usually was.  Sydney wondered when he was going to ask about his mother.  She imagined that was what was making him so fidgety.  She could understand his turmoil about his mother; she could remember when she was told that her mother had been a KGB spy.  Sark seemed intent on moving on with the interrogation and so Sydney decided not to ask anymore questions.
"How did you become involved in The Covenant?"
"I was recruited from the KGB.  I was moving up the ranks in the KGB and was beginning a very public life as a diplomat.  I agreed to join The Covenant and smuggle in secrets from the government, along with information on the everlasting search of Rambaldi artifacts."

"When did you meet my mother?"
"I'd been working at The Covenant for six months.  I caught a glimpse of her walking into a plush office when I was in a meeting.  I found out everything I could about her and discovered she was the daughter of one of the high-ranking officers.  Alecksandria was beautiful and deadly and I found her absolutely fascinating.  Plus it was dangerous to go after her.  But I did, but Alecksandria was playing me just as much as I was playing her.  After a few months together, she was pregnant with you.  She remained on staff, and even went on a few missions after you were born, though no one knew I was the father.  My political life had taken off, so I couldn't acknowledge an illegitimate child.  Nor could I let The Covenant know I was responsible for impregnating one of their best operatives.  They would have killed me.  So I erased all knowledge of my affiliation with Alecksandria and avoided talking to her at all.  Eventually, The Covenant changed heads and some of the high-ranking operatives were taken care of.  As was your mother."
Sark let out a loud breath and he realized he'd been holding it.  He'd been grasping on the hope that his mother was alive.  Like Sydney's mother was.  Unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

"So she really is dead?"
"Yes.  Do you think your mother would have really faked her death in front of you?  She did love you, even though she kept her life hidden from you.  She really was murdered.  By the new management of The Covenant."

Sark kept his face stoic but turmoil raged inside of him.  His mother had been a spy.  She'd gone on missions knowing very well she could be killed one day and leave him alone to them.  Maybe Lazarey was wrong.  Maybe Alecksandria had never cared for her son, simply seen him as a burden.  Sark stood abruptly and stormed out of the beach house, leaving Sydney with a very uncomfortable Lazarey.

            He was walking along the beach.  He'd actually removed his shoes and was walking barefoot in the sand.  He couldn't imagine walking any other way on the beach, though.  He was thinking and watching the crystalline water hit the sand and his feet.  He was angry and confused and he didn't understand anything that had been happening the last few weeks.  He'd become close to Sydney.  He didn't know how to explain it or even want to.  He was used to the cat and mouse game they played, but since she'd returned, she'd been different.  Not in a bad way, just different.  She was becoming strong again, starting to be the woman he remembered, but she seemed to be making exceptions for him.  Help well-known terrorist escape, check.  Go on the run with said terrorist, check.  Steal files, check.  Allow him to torture his father, check.  She seemed to be letting him get away with everything and nothing at all.  She probably understood what he was going through.  And that scared him even more, though he'd never ever admit that he was scared.  He'd always been afraid his mother would be disappointed in what he'd become.  A terrorist, a spy, a murderer, a thief, a con artist.  She'd always seemed so perfect and good to him as a child; he could almost see her disapprove of his life now.  Perhaps that was a testimony to her talent as a spy in a worldwide evil organization.  She had him fooled and he'd lived with her for years. But that could also be attributed to childhood naivety.  Every child saw their parents as the perfect human being, in his case, a mother only.  She no longer held that hold over him.  She was a murderer and a terrorist just like he was.  Just an earlier time.  She'd been killed because of it.  She'd disregarded him, had no concern for what could happen to her if she remained an operative of The Covenant.  She knew the dangers and when she'd had him, she should have stopped.  But she couldn't and didn't and she had been murdered in front of him.  He almost blamed her for her own death, which was pathetic in a way. 

"Julian?"  She whispered his name.  He turned, stunned that someone had been able to sneak up on him.  He'd been so lost in the thoughts of his mother and Sydney that he hadn't even realized Sydney was standing behind him.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

A small, ironic laugh escaped him.

"Of course.  Why would I not be?"

Sydney stared at him, knowingly.  Of course, she'd heard all of this only a few years before.

"I asked him about it.  I didn't have to.  I could have just let my mother's memory in peace and continued my hatred for my father.  But now I simply hate both of them."
"I know."

Sark changed the subject quickly by reprimanding Sydney.  "Did you leave Lazarey unguarded?"
"Only for a moment."
"He could be gone."

"No.  He isn't."

"How do you know?"
"I just do."

Sark began his ascent back up the sandy hill to the house  "Sark!"
"What, Sydney?"  He burst out.

She shied away from him, not exactly afraid, just realizing how much space Sark was going to need.  Sark had always seemed emotionless, nearly brainwashed.  He didn't feel anything.  He never acted like he did.  But he seemed quite distraught now, not that she blamed him.  It was simply messing up her image of Sark; it was pushing him into the Julian Lazarey persona.

"I'm sorry."

Sark nodded and walked on into the house.

            Irina leaned back in her chair.  They had gotten Lazarey.  She could imagine he was speaking to them about her involvement in The Covenant and in the next few days she would expect a visit from them.  Sark was talented, but predictable in her mind.  Of course, her teaching him everything probably had something to do with it.  She wondered if Andrian would broach the subject of Alecksandria.  That poor boy would be crushed at the information of his mother's involvement.  Then again, Sydney would be there to comfort him.  She allowed a thin, slightly sadistic smile to appear on her face.