Title: Escape
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more.
Author: Be impressed, be very impressed, I hope you like it and keep reading and reviewing cause that's why I'm writing so much so fast!
Chapter Five
Walking out of the room I see Sark pull his standard little mobile phone out of his pocket and put it to his ear. I raise my eyebrows and he smiles before pressing a button. Waiting a few seconds, as I watch up and down the hall, I hear him say, "I need the room cleaned out soon...Yes...Good," and then hang up. I grin at his English accent; it always makes me laugh especially since it isn't all that real.
"Ready?" he asks me, I nod and he pushes the door open for me, stepping back, out of my way and giving me access. I'm hesitant at first, looking around searching for Jack, sure that he wouldn't have left but still not entirely confident that he'll be ready to co operate.
I can't see him from the door way and so I walk in, wavering a little, preparing for him to jump out of a corner and grab me in a vain attempt to recapture me and gain some control. But he doesn't, he's sitting on the chair in the corner, near the window. He turns to look at me, his eyes truly looking as though he hates me, conveying that he feels a bottomless contempt for me and yet at the same time I can see that he wishes it were simpler, that he could just trust me.
I turn and motion for Sark to join us; he does so quickly, standing just behind me to my right, close enough to whisper in my ear if he chooses. I open my mouth, but find it dry, knowing that if I can't convince Jack to come, our chances of getting Sydney and Vaughn out alive will become slimmer. Trying again, I say, "Good Morning Jack."
He takes it as mockery, his face turning to a glare and a snarl falling from his lips as he responds, curtly. "Irina. What do you want?" Every word is syllabized and straight forward. But, I notice it now, I see what's changed.
It's not that he hates me more; it's that, inside he wants to trust me now. The fact that I apparently betrayed him but then came back and helped, for the second time in a month, has him wanting to trust me. And he is covering that up with this hatred and disdain. Nice trick and, I realise, I was almost fooled. Knowing that I can't exactly tell him that I know what he's thinking, I answer his question as honestly as possible. "I want to save Sydney. After that I really don't care." Hearing a sigh from Sark that probably wouldn't have reached Jack's ears, I hasten to add another clause to the verbal contract. "Of course, I expect that Sark will be allowed to remain at SD-6 and this entire mission's rehash to be void of his involvement.
Jack raises an eyebrow, not impressed at my idea of re releasing Sark into the wild, I grin at him, the thought humorous in my eyes, a quick image of Sark being let out of a cage in a Tarzan suit in the middle of the forest, flicking through my mind.
He nods and looks at me properly; his eyes wandering down and then up, twice, possibly because he can't stop himself. Sark just rolls his eyes and dramatically sighs eliciting a giggle from me and forcing Jack to stop his surveillance. Looking at me, his eyes softer now but still too cold for me to consider them welcoming or even nonchalant, he asks, "What's with the clothes?"
I look down at myself and laugh, "The heels are explosives and Sark seems to think that I'm going to need to look good to get in." Sark grins and I look at him carefully, knowing that he might just want to see me trying to run in this get up and have no real reason for me wearing it. Jack nods and walks over to the case which lies open, several different guns and gadgets lying on top. Seeing them, Sark walks over. He always has been partial to gadgets, I'll never know why. I stand my ground, eager to watch them together.
Sark is playing with a pair of earrings; I look at them vigilantly, seeing that they are large green hanging things with beautiful, exotic looking feathers hanging from each of them. Turning them over in his hand while Jack ignores him fully, Sark asks, over doing the accent probably just to irritate me, "What do they do?"
Jack's head turns to look at what Sark's looking at and he smirks. "Press the green button in the centre on either one twice and it will leak out sleeping gas. Enough to knock out a room." Sark grins and pockets them.
Ten minutes later, they're still doing the same thing, I've taken a seat on the bed and I'm slowly growing bored of watching them fiddle with yet another small and probably never to be used object. Jack is still trying to ignore Sark, while Sark ignores Jack ignoring him and continues to ask questions, the first three times it was comical, but now it is just annoying. Standing up, I speak, "We'd want to get moving soon."
Jack loads his gun and hitches it onto his belt, loading another he pokes it under the buckle on the back of his pants. Pulling down the blue top he's chosen, he checks in the mirror to see that both guns are fully concealed.
Nodding to me, still hostile but not as much hatred as he cools off, I wait for Sark to join us. He pockets a few more of the smaller gadgets, having little or no idea what they're for and turns to look at me, satisfied grin still present. I shake my head and hold my hand out, Sark, seeing the familiar movement throws his cell to me quicker than I'd expected and I dial the number I want. Putting it to my ear, I watch Jack as he glares at me with false disgust and I wait for an answer.
A strong Russian accent on the other end, "Hello?"
I grin, recognising his voice, "Ivan, we're done here, clear rooms thirty three and thirty four." I grin at Jack and he just maintains his disdain filled glare.
Ivan, an old man of eighty, is obviously glad to hear my voice, "Irina? Is that you? My goodness, we all thought you were dead." I grin.
"Don't tell anyone." I ask him, knowing I don't have to, trusting him with my life.
"Of course not, but what happened?"
I look at Jack for a moment before answering, "I'm working with the CIA now."
His voice comes back at me, fast and excited, "You got in without being given the death sentance?"
I smile into the phone, hoping that Jack's hearing isn't too good. "Yeah, finally worked out a way."
Ivan replies, "It's good to hear from you, we'll have those rooms cleaned out as soon as you're out. Good luck."
He hangs up and I glance at my watch seeing that if I'd spent another second on the phone we'd have been open to being traced.
I turn to Jack, the corner of my mouth edging up as I've now heard an old friends voice. "Let's go," I tell them and I watch the contrast in their faces; Sark grinning like a maniac and Jack just scowling like I was the enemy. Like I was the one that has our daughter.
My grin dimmed and I felt myself frowning. Shaking the feeling of guilt, I walked out the door, listening for the two pairs of footsteps that inevitably followed. Sark appeared at my side seconds later, Jack lagging, a couple of metres behind.
I feel Sarks' breath near my ear and I what for him to say whatever he plans on saying, after a couple of seconds, his voice comes out, slinky and hushed so that Jack can't hear, his words more serious than anything he has said so far. "He's more closed up than you."
I have to look at him for a moment, wondering what compelled him to say it and silently agreeing, a sad look of regret taking over my features even as I try to ward it off. Sark sees them and moves away, dropping behind until we get to the front desk. I pay for the two rooms and give the receptionist a large tip.
Outside, Sark has somehow managed to nab himself a black topless Mercedes and it's waiting, parked on the gravel, taking up much of the room. Looking at the rental four wheel drive, I choose to ride in with Sark and ask Jack, truly leaving the decision up to him, "Which car do you want, I'm riding with Sark?" He looks at me, shocked for a moment that I would give him such an option.
But then he looks mad again and he says his voice bitter and biting, though not really that way, "You think I would leave you alone in a car that can out pace my own?"
It's a lame excuse, I can see that, but what do I care, I shrug and get into the Mercedes, taking the front passenger seat and pulling the dark sunglasses down from my hair to sit on my nose. Seeing this, Sark gives Jack his pair and explains: "Direct camera link to each other," he shows him the buttons and Jack nods curtly, getting into the car and sitting behind Sark, undoubtedly so that he can watch me.
Sark looks at us once, both of us looking, quite blatantly, away from each other and he has to grin, hiding it from Jack's sight as he ducks down and gets into the car, grabbing the steering wheel while he shoves the key, far too hard, into the ignition and turns it, revving the car as much as he thinks needed to get me to laugh, rewarding him for his trouble, I chuckle a little.
Grinning, I watch him as he steps on the accelerator and drives out of the parking area, spitting gravel everywhere and possibly dinting the 4 wheel drive rental. I sigh and lean out the side, feeling the wind in my hair and feeling delirious, all the while glancing at Jack in the mirror.
Movement from Sark startles me and I watch as he reaches across and pops the glove box open, grinning at my, eyes peeking over the top of hie glasses, he pulls a cream silk scarf out and hands it to me. I grin again, doing it for the last time that day, I promise myself, and take it from him. Every mission he brings me a new scarf, always beautiful and always good quality and this is no exception.
I can see Jack watching me, with envy perhaps, or maybe even jealousy, I laugh a little and gain a lop sided look from Sark. Tying my hair up in the scarf, a few tendrils still hanging down about my face but the rest flying back under control, I turn to look at Jack, twisting my whole body around in the seat and smile. "You ready for this?"
It's a playful remark, though nothing that I think deserves a harsh answer. None the less, Jack scowls at me and refuses to comment. My face falling quickly, I turn back around and glare at the road ahead, the taller buildings looming closer and closer. I've been to the factory before, it's the front for Cuvee in Oceania and it does well, making a little out of glass sales but not enough to be noticed. At the back, there is a building, five stories high. First story is legitimate, all administration of the company but the second, third, forth and fifth floors are dedicated to interrogations and research. Almost every meeting I had with Cuvee while is business with him was here, the remaining few conferences taking place in the building that was practically taken down on my last mission with Jack.
I expect Sydney will be being kept in an underground cell and that she will be brought up for interrogation sometime around eleven, the process Cuvee uses usually involving making them wait several hours before hand, just to get their nerves up.
I shiver involuntarily and see that Sark noticed. Smiling, I nod to him and his eyes return to the road. Forty minutes later, just after eight am we pull up outside a café and Sark gets out, grinning all the while. I roll my eyes and follow him.
Go and review right now!!!! Please!!!!!!!1
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more.
Author: Be impressed, be very impressed, I hope you like it and keep reading and reviewing cause that's why I'm writing so much so fast!
Chapter Five
Walking out of the room I see Sark pull his standard little mobile phone out of his pocket and put it to his ear. I raise my eyebrows and he smiles before pressing a button. Waiting a few seconds, as I watch up and down the hall, I hear him say, "I need the room cleaned out soon...Yes...Good," and then hang up. I grin at his English accent; it always makes me laugh especially since it isn't all that real.
"Ready?" he asks me, I nod and he pushes the door open for me, stepping back, out of my way and giving me access. I'm hesitant at first, looking around searching for Jack, sure that he wouldn't have left but still not entirely confident that he'll be ready to co operate.
I can't see him from the door way and so I walk in, wavering a little, preparing for him to jump out of a corner and grab me in a vain attempt to recapture me and gain some control. But he doesn't, he's sitting on the chair in the corner, near the window. He turns to look at me, his eyes truly looking as though he hates me, conveying that he feels a bottomless contempt for me and yet at the same time I can see that he wishes it were simpler, that he could just trust me.
I turn and motion for Sark to join us; he does so quickly, standing just behind me to my right, close enough to whisper in my ear if he chooses. I open my mouth, but find it dry, knowing that if I can't convince Jack to come, our chances of getting Sydney and Vaughn out alive will become slimmer. Trying again, I say, "Good Morning Jack."
He takes it as mockery, his face turning to a glare and a snarl falling from his lips as he responds, curtly. "Irina. What do you want?" Every word is syllabized and straight forward. But, I notice it now, I see what's changed.
It's not that he hates me more; it's that, inside he wants to trust me now. The fact that I apparently betrayed him but then came back and helped, for the second time in a month, has him wanting to trust me. And he is covering that up with this hatred and disdain. Nice trick and, I realise, I was almost fooled. Knowing that I can't exactly tell him that I know what he's thinking, I answer his question as honestly as possible. "I want to save Sydney. After that I really don't care." Hearing a sigh from Sark that probably wouldn't have reached Jack's ears, I hasten to add another clause to the verbal contract. "Of course, I expect that Sark will be allowed to remain at SD-6 and this entire mission's rehash to be void of his involvement.
Jack raises an eyebrow, not impressed at my idea of re releasing Sark into the wild, I grin at him, the thought humorous in my eyes, a quick image of Sark being let out of a cage in a Tarzan suit in the middle of the forest, flicking through my mind.
He nods and looks at me properly; his eyes wandering down and then up, twice, possibly because he can't stop himself. Sark just rolls his eyes and dramatically sighs eliciting a giggle from me and forcing Jack to stop his surveillance. Looking at me, his eyes softer now but still too cold for me to consider them welcoming or even nonchalant, he asks, "What's with the clothes?"
I look down at myself and laugh, "The heels are explosives and Sark seems to think that I'm going to need to look good to get in." Sark grins and I look at him carefully, knowing that he might just want to see me trying to run in this get up and have no real reason for me wearing it. Jack nods and walks over to the case which lies open, several different guns and gadgets lying on top. Seeing them, Sark walks over. He always has been partial to gadgets, I'll never know why. I stand my ground, eager to watch them together.
Sark is playing with a pair of earrings; I look at them vigilantly, seeing that they are large green hanging things with beautiful, exotic looking feathers hanging from each of them. Turning them over in his hand while Jack ignores him fully, Sark asks, over doing the accent probably just to irritate me, "What do they do?"
Jack's head turns to look at what Sark's looking at and he smirks. "Press the green button in the centre on either one twice and it will leak out sleeping gas. Enough to knock out a room." Sark grins and pockets them.
Ten minutes later, they're still doing the same thing, I've taken a seat on the bed and I'm slowly growing bored of watching them fiddle with yet another small and probably never to be used object. Jack is still trying to ignore Sark, while Sark ignores Jack ignoring him and continues to ask questions, the first three times it was comical, but now it is just annoying. Standing up, I speak, "We'd want to get moving soon."
Jack loads his gun and hitches it onto his belt, loading another he pokes it under the buckle on the back of his pants. Pulling down the blue top he's chosen, he checks in the mirror to see that both guns are fully concealed.
Nodding to me, still hostile but not as much hatred as he cools off, I wait for Sark to join us. He pockets a few more of the smaller gadgets, having little or no idea what they're for and turns to look at me, satisfied grin still present. I shake my head and hold my hand out, Sark, seeing the familiar movement throws his cell to me quicker than I'd expected and I dial the number I want. Putting it to my ear, I watch Jack as he glares at me with false disgust and I wait for an answer.
A strong Russian accent on the other end, "Hello?"
I grin, recognising his voice, "Ivan, we're done here, clear rooms thirty three and thirty four." I grin at Jack and he just maintains his disdain filled glare.
Ivan, an old man of eighty, is obviously glad to hear my voice, "Irina? Is that you? My goodness, we all thought you were dead." I grin.
"Don't tell anyone." I ask him, knowing I don't have to, trusting him with my life.
"Of course not, but what happened?"
I look at Jack for a moment before answering, "I'm working with the CIA now."
His voice comes back at me, fast and excited, "You got in without being given the death sentance?"
I smile into the phone, hoping that Jack's hearing isn't too good. "Yeah, finally worked out a way."
Ivan replies, "It's good to hear from you, we'll have those rooms cleaned out as soon as you're out. Good luck."
He hangs up and I glance at my watch seeing that if I'd spent another second on the phone we'd have been open to being traced.
I turn to Jack, the corner of my mouth edging up as I've now heard an old friends voice. "Let's go," I tell them and I watch the contrast in their faces; Sark grinning like a maniac and Jack just scowling like I was the enemy. Like I was the one that has our daughter.
My grin dimmed and I felt myself frowning. Shaking the feeling of guilt, I walked out the door, listening for the two pairs of footsteps that inevitably followed. Sark appeared at my side seconds later, Jack lagging, a couple of metres behind.
I feel Sarks' breath near my ear and I what for him to say whatever he plans on saying, after a couple of seconds, his voice comes out, slinky and hushed so that Jack can't hear, his words more serious than anything he has said so far. "He's more closed up than you."
I have to look at him for a moment, wondering what compelled him to say it and silently agreeing, a sad look of regret taking over my features even as I try to ward it off. Sark sees them and moves away, dropping behind until we get to the front desk. I pay for the two rooms and give the receptionist a large tip.
Outside, Sark has somehow managed to nab himself a black topless Mercedes and it's waiting, parked on the gravel, taking up much of the room. Looking at the rental four wheel drive, I choose to ride in with Sark and ask Jack, truly leaving the decision up to him, "Which car do you want, I'm riding with Sark?" He looks at me, shocked for a moment that I would give him such an option.
But then he looks mad again and he says his voice bitter and biting, though not really that way, "You think I would leave you alone in a car that can out pace my own?"
It's a lame excuse, I can see that, but what do I care, I shrug and get into the Mercedes, taking the front passenger seat and pulling the dark sunglasses down from my hair to sit on my nose. Seeing this, Sark gives Jack his pair and explains: "Direct camera link to each other," he shows him the buttons and Jack nods curtly, getting into the car and sitting behind Sark, undoubtedly so that he can watch me.
Sark looks at us once, both of us looking, quite blatantly, away from each other and he has to grin, hiding it from Jack's sight as he ducks down and gets into the car, grabbing the steering wheel while he shoves the key, far too hard, into the ignition and turns it, revving the car as much as he thinks needed to get me to laugh, rewarding him for his trouble, I chuckle a little.
Grinning, I watch him as he steps on the accelerator and drives out of the parking area, spitting gravel everywhere and possibly dinting the 4 wheel drive rental. I sigh and lean out the side, feeling the wind in my hair and feeling delirious, all the while glancing at Jack in the mirror.
Movement from Sark startles me and I watch as he reaches across and pops the glove box open, grinning at my, eyes peeking over the top of hie glasses, he pulls a cream silk scarf out and hands it to me. I grin again, doing it for the last time that day, I promise myself, and take it from him. Every mission he brings me a new scarf, always beautiful and always good quality and this is no exception.
I can see Jack watching me, with envy perhaps, or maybe even jealousy, I laugh a little and gain a lop sided look from Sark. Tying my hair up in the scarf, a few tendrils still hanging down about my face but the rest flying back under control, I turn to look at Jack, twisting my whole body around in the seat and smile. "You ready for this?"
It's a playful remark, though nothing that I think deserves a harsh answer. None the less, Jack scowls at me and refuses to comment. My face falling quickly, I turn back around and glare at the road ahead, the taller buildings looming closer and closer. I've been to the factory before, it's the front for Cuvee in Oceania and it does well, making a little out of glass sales but not enough to be noticed. At the back, there is a building, five stories high. First story is legitimate, all administration of the company but the second, third, forth and fifth floors are dedicated to interrogations and research. Almost every meeting I had with Cuvee while is business with him was here, the remaining few conferences taking place in the building that was practically taken down on my last mission with Jack.
I expect Sydney will be being kept in an underground cell and that she will be brought up for interrogation sometime around eleven, the process Cuvee uses usually involving making them wait several hours before hand, just to get their nerves up.
I shiver involuntarily and see that Sark noticed. Smiling, I nod to him and his eyes return to the road. Forty minutes later, just after eight am we pull up outside a café and Sark gets out, grinning all the while. I roll my eyes and follow him.
Go and review right now!!!! Please!!!!!!!1