"It's me." She knew who it was immediately, Kendall. She glanced around
looking for any onlookers.
"I don't have much time." She said quietly into the phone.
"I know. I need you in Nevada, Pronto." He spoke quickly, without hesitation.
"I can be there tomorrow." She said as she pulled open the door to her car.
"Tonight," Kendall ordered impatiently.
"We're not having this conversation again. I have responsibilities," She paused trying to choose the exact word she wanted, "elsewhere, as you know." She paused again, but just long enough for emphasis. "I will be in Nevada tomorrow by sundown." With that she hung up the phone.
She set the small phone down on top of her purse, which was now sitting on the front seat. She closed the car door and stared out through the windshield for a long moment. The parking garage was nearly empty. It was 10:00 on Tuesday and everyone was already at work. She sighed as she started the car and made her way out of the enclosure and into the bright light of day.
She hated being back in LA. It was the one place in all the world, that she had always hoped her superiors would not send her. But sure enough, as went with the theme of her life, her hopes were to be dashed.
So there she was driving an inconspicuous teal green Saturn down the streets where she once lived. Her hair was hidden beneath a long wavy, bleach-blonde wig. Her eyes were blue, her legs covered in black nylons; her pink latex mini skirt was sticking to the seat. This was not one of her favorite Alias's, but that just made the day complete.
The mission was simple really. The Covenant was testing her yet again. She was Julia Thorne; reprogrammed, reborn, and a complete Covenant robot. She knew nothing of LA, but what had been in the case file. She knew no one in LA except for her target. The Covenant was watching her every move. Everything had to be perfect.
She glanced in the rearview mirror. On cue a nondescript black sedan turned the corner a couple of seconds behind her. There were two men, both in standard black suit and sunglasses. It seemed more than comical that the Covenant had trained her as a super spy, or so they thought, and then had put the most conspicuous tail on her that they could find.
She smiled to herself as she sped up and changed lanes. She wasn't trying to avoid her tail, but she still had to make it look like she was following her training to a T. She was instructed to watch for tails at all times, keep alert while driving. She was to change lanes, double back, and constantly watch her 6. She laughed again as she glanced back at the Tail- ers who were obviously having trouble keeping up with her.
She could have played with them all day long, but her exit was approaching fast, and she had a mission to complete, pink skirt and all.
He pulled straight up to the beach. He hadn't stopped since his liquor store run. He locked the car and sighed as he took off his shoes and made his way toward the water. The beach was secluded and almost entirely deserted. The soft white sand welcomed his feet instantly. Its warmth was comforting. The water was mesmerizing as always, and the sun seemed to burn less brightly with the cloud cover over Santa Barbra. He walked until the water washed over his toes, soaking the edges of his kakis.
He sat instantly, almost falling as he did. His eyes were intensely hypnotized by the waves crashing over the beach. For a long time he just sat, letting the water wash over his feet and ankles, watching its movement. Thinking of her.
He'd come to this spot religiously for almost a year. There was a bed and breakfast at the end of the beach. He'd never stayed there. He remembered the beach well, and had memorized every inch of it. The sand was warm, like an old friend; The water freshly cleansing, as always.
It was the spot he'd chosen to take her. It was the spot where their future together had suddenly come to an end. It was painfully ironic how this one place symbolized both their future together and its end. He glanced over at the small house at the end of the beach. It was Daisy's Beach Inn. The old lady was the owner, and was the sweetest, most lovely person. He'd never met her.
Of all the times he'd visited this beach, he'd never been able to find his way up the house. In some ways it remained how he pictured it would. He would drive her there, eat a candle-lit dinner, make love by the moonlight. That night, which he'd most carefully planned out in his head, was left untouched. Always a fantasy of what could have been.
He looked out at the water again, and cleared his throat quietly, preparing to speak. He closed his eyes, as he always did and pictured her face. Then he spoke to her.
He'd gotten out of the car. That's all she could tell for sure. The green little dot blinked in place on the GPS screen she held in her hand. He was near the beach. She was used to his little adventures there, by now. His visits had become more and more infrequent; as fact that made her smile with hope. He was forgetting her; he was ready to move on.
She put the GPS unit back into her purse and checked her watch. Phone calls made, and contacts met, she was ready to return to the states. She regretted that she couldn't spend more time in London, but duty called.
The word "duty" always made her smile. Her "duty" was Michael Vaughn, and they couldn't have chosen worse. He was handsome, strong, good in bed, and most of all, quite ready to believe everything she told him. He was the perfect target, though it had taken longer than she'd expected for him to move past Her.
Sydney Bristow, dead and buried; Or whatever, the Covenant had done with her. It no longer mattered. Sydney had left the Covenant a wide open opportunity into the CIA, and his name was Michael Vaughn. As vulnerable as he was, she couldn't complain about her assignment. It was easy, almost comically easy.
The hard part had come when he'd made the decision to quit the CIA. It was a dumb move on his part, and a worse move for her. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the Covenant to realize Michael's value after he no longer had access to the CIA. But they had come around eventually, understanding that Lauren could extract knowledge from Michael about several important cases.
It was a long process, but they grew closer and closer in time. The last five months had been increasingly excellent. He'd really started to trust her, and even better he'd started to stay over at her apartment more often, allowing her to use the night time hours for other extracurricular activities, besides sex.
She'd retained information on a variety of topics. CIA protocol, names of informants. But was the Covenant was most interested in was his knowledge of Sydney Bristow. This made her increasingly angry, not to mention a little jealous. But the information was mostly regarding Rambaldi, and Irina Derevko.
The Covenant was still skeptical about how much move value Michael held for them. It was a constant battle to convince them of his usefulness. For the last couple of weeks they'd been off her case completely, but sooner or later, she feared, they'd find her excuses irrelevant. Then there was no telling what they would do.
"I don't have much time." She said quietly into the phone.
"I know. I need you in Nevada, Pronto." He spoke quickly, without hesitation.
"I can be there tomorrow." She said as she pulled open the door to her car.
"Tonight," Kendall ordered impatiently.
"We're not having this conversation again. I have responsibilities," She paused trying to choose the exact word she wanted, "elsewhere, as you know." She paused again, but just long enough for emphasis. "I will be in Nevada tomorrow by sundown." With that she hung up the phone.
She set the small phone down on top of her purse, which was now sitting on the front seat. She closed the car door and stared out through the windshield for a long moment. The parking garage was nearly empty. It was 10:00 on Tuesday and everyone was already at work. She sighed as she started the car and made her way out of the enclosure and into the bright light of day.
She hated being back in LA. It was the one place in all the world, that she had always hoped her superiors would not send her. But sure enough, as went with the theme of her life, her hopes were to be dashed.
So there she was driving an inconspicuous teal green Saturn down the streets where she once lived. Her hair was hidden beneath a long wavy, bleach-blonde wig. Her eyes were blue, her legs covered in black nylons; her pink latex mini skirt was sticking to the seat. This was not one of her favorite Alias's, but that just made the day complete.
The mission was simple really. The Covenant was testing her yet again. She was Julia Thorne; reprogrammed, reborn, and a complete Covenant robot. She knew nothing of LA, but what had been in the case file. She knew no one in LA except for her target. The Covenant was watching her every move. Everything had to be perfect.
She glanced in the rearview mirror. On cue a nondescript black sedan turned the corner a couple of seconds behind her. There were two men, both in standard black suit and sunglasses. It seemed more than comical that the Covenant had trained her as a super spy, or so they thought, and then had put the most conspicuous tail on her that they could find.
She smiled to herself as she sped up and changed lanes. She wasn't trying to avoid her tail, but she still had to make it look like she was following her training to a T. She was instructed to watch for tails at all times, keep alert while driving. She was to change lanes, double back, and constantly watch her 6. She laughed again as she glanced back at the Tail- ers who were obviously having trouble keeping up with her.
She could have played with them all day long, but her exit was approaching fast, and she had a mission to complete, pink skirt and all.
He pulled straight up to the beach. He hadn't stopped since his liquor store run. He locked the car and sighed as he took off his shoes and made his way toward the water. The beach was secluded and almost entirely deserted. The soft white sand welcomed his feet instantly. Its warmth was comforting. The water was mesmerizing as always, and the sun seemed to burn less brightly with the cloud cover over Santa Barbra. He walked until the water washed over his toes, soaking the edges of his kakis.
He sat instantly, almost falling as he did. His eyes were intensely hypnotized by the waves crashing over the beach. For a long time he just sat, letting the water wash over his feet and ankles, watching its movement. Thinking of her.
He'd come to this spot religiously for almost a year. There was a bed and breakfast at the end of the beach. He'd never stayed there. He remembered the beach well, and had memorized every inch of it. The sand was warm, like an old friend; The water freshly cleansing, as always.
It was the spot he'd chosen to take her. It was the spot where their future together had suddenly come to an end. It was painfully ironic how this one place symbolized both their future together and its end. He glanced over at the small house at the end of the beach. It was Daisy's Beach Inn. The old lady was the owner, and was the sweetest, most lovely person. He'd never met her.
Of all the times he'd visited this beach, he'd never been able to find his way up the house. In some ways it remained how he pictured it would. He would drive her there, eat a candle-lit dinner, make love by the moonlight. That night, which he'd most carefully planned out in his head, was left untouched. Always a fantasy of what could have been.
He looked out at the water again, and cleared his throat quietly, preparing to speak. He closed his eyes, as he always did and pictured her face. Then he spoke to her.
He'd gotten out of the car. That's all she could tell for sure. The green little dot blinked in place on the GPS screen she held in her hand. He was near the beach. She was used to his little adventures there, by now. His visits had become more and more infrequent; as fact that made her smile with hope. He was forgetting her; he was ready to move on.
She put the GPS unit back into her purse and checked her watch. Phone calls made, and contacts met, she was ready to return to the states. She regretted that she couldn't spend more time in London, but duty called.
The word "duty" always made her smile. Her "duty" was Michael Vaughn, and they couldn't have chosen worse. He was handsome, strong, good in bed, and most of all, quite ready to believe everything she told him. He was the perfect target, though it had taken longer than she'd expected for him to move past Her.
Sydney Bristow, dead and buried; Or whatever, the Covenant had done with her. It no longer mattered. Sydney had left the Covenant a wide open opportunity into the CIA, and his name was Michael Vaughn. As vulnerable as he was, she couldn't complain about her assignment. It was easy, almost comically easy.
The hard part had come when he'd made the decision to quit the CIA. It was a dumb move on his part, and a worse move for her. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the Covenant to realize Michael's value after he no longer had access to the CIA. But they had come around eventually, understanding that Lauren could extract knowledge from Michael about several important cases.
It was a long process, but they grew closer and closer in time. The last five months had been increasingly excellent. He'd really started to trust her, and even better he'd started to stay over at her apartment more often, allowing her to use the night time hours for other extracurricular activities, besides sex.
She'd retained information on a variety of topics. CIA protocol, names of informants. But was the Covenant was most interested in was his knowledge of Sydney Bristow. This made her increasingly angry, not to mention a little jealous. But the information was mostly regarding Rambaldi, and Irina Derevko.
The Covenant was still skeptical about how much move value Michael held for them. It was a constant battle to convince them of his usefulness. For the last couple of weeks they'd been off her case completely, but sooner or later, she feared, they'd find her excuses irrelevant. Then there was no telling what they would do.