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: Enjoy people and read and review This one was a hard one to write.
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from.
Chapter Eleven
My eyes narrow in suspicion, he seems to be asking me for an answer I could have sworn he wouldn't want to hear. But I'm never one to turn away from a fight simply because I think the opponent is too weak, so I answer, "No, it isn't." He waits, still not looking at the road. "I'm going back to my cell because I promised your father that's what I would do."
"And why does this particular promise hold merit?" he pushed harder and I had to smile, finally he was rising his standards, taking me on without his normal defensive coldness, now it was more of a game than an argument.
I grin, and answer, not bothering to think, knowing that if I stay honest I could put him off, "Because this particular promise was to you." He smiles and for a second I think he's going to bring up past promises I've broken, but he doesn't turning back to continue to drive the car, now facing out the front of the wind shield. I smile at Sydney who's just giving me a look that plainly says she wants to know what I've done with her father and who the man in the front seat is. "Cuvee grabbed us, unarmed just outside the room you were being held in." She nods and I continue, noticing that Jack and Vaughn are listening in as well. "I figured that Cuvee might be dumb enough to fall for my usual tricks again and he was. Only your father was as well." I can see his mouth twitching up out of the corner of my eye. "I eventually just hit him really hard."
Sydney smiles, "And that's when you came and got me?" I nod and she looks down for a moment, giving Vaughn a chance to step in and ask his own question.
"When you say Jack broke you out, what exactly do you mean?" I laugh and I can hear Jack chuckling behind me, I flick my head to the side and he instantly quells the sound, staring ahead at the road, his eyes hard but with obvious amusement in them. "I mean, what did he trick the CIA into letting you out." Obviously Vaughn can't phantom the idea that he might have actually done something completely against the CIA.
I tell him the truth, enjoying the look of both respect and shock that he gives Jack's back, "He shot the CIA's apparently bulletproof glass out and then we just ran for it. He has quite a few connections."
Vaughn still isn't quite up to believing me and seems to be waiting for Jack to turn around again and explaining that I'm kidding. Of course he doesn't so I continue, defending Jack for his actions, "He had little choice. The CIA had no idea where you were and they weren't about to risk going after you. It was either break me out or leave you here to die. I think he chose well."
Sydney nods, "Me too," she pauses looking at her father with confusion before going on, "What exactly does Cuvee want?"
I sigh, I think I know and I figure I should tell them, now or never. "Right now, there's one thing he wants, and that's me." Jack turns, again forgetting the road, to listen. "Two years ago I recovered a book, it was written by Rambaldi and it was, of course forty seven pages long. I memorized it and then burnt it. As far as I know, I'm the only one on the planet with any idea of what was in it."
Jack cuts across me, not sounding as mad as I thought he would, "Why haven't you told us this before?"
I smile sadly, "The things in it, the words that I have in my head are worth billions of dollars; very few people actually even know I know them, but Cuvee does. If I were to even mention this to one person at the CIA, the entire crime world would know in a few hours. If I told you one page of writing, it could easily put both me and whom ever I told into danger. I prefer to keep it to myself."
Sark knows all of this, always had, he was one of very few of my agents that knew. Vaughn looks plain confused and Sydney seems to have drawn a blank. Jack looks back to the road to swerve a slow traveling pig truck before turning back to me. "So now, Cuvee is after you."
I nod, "If he could have me, he would essentially take control of the crime world." Jack nods, looking, for a second indecisive before smiling, weakly.
"You could have told me," he says, almost tenderly.
"I know, but there were too many people watching us." He nods and turns back to the road, turning right and then left, changing lanes and finding his way out onto the main freeway that will take us to a rainforest. I can see it in the distance, a sharp rise, a few cliff faces, a waterfall her and there and everything covered in deep green. I turn back around, I'm interested to see what will happen behind me and I want to think.
The wind hits my face and straight away I grab at the cream head scarf at my feet. Picking it up I put it back in place, along with my sunglasses, my hair is still being thrown around, but my vision is better and I can see what's ahead of us. Jack's still driving, faster than I thought the Mercedes could handle and overtaking every car. He's taken on a completely new look, a hand hanging down on the outside of the car, glasses on the end of his nose and a hand lightly guiding the car via the steering wheel.
I watch a little before voices start up behind me and I focus my attention on them. Sark, typically, starts the conversation, "So, Miss Bristow, how exactly did this sad excuse for an agent manage to get you caught?" I grin, nice opener by Sark, really a great way to get her attention by insulting the love of her life.
Sydney's voice comes back, overlapping Vaughn's as he mutters something under his breath, "Actually, Sark, it was no one's fault. It was simply that they knew we were coming and grabbed us. I'll ask you to refrain from name calling as, after your usual sarcasm, it's the lowest form of insult. I can feel Sark's face falling, but he still manages to come back at her straight away.
"Why so formal, Miss Bristow?" if I turn I'm sure I'd find him grinning at her, normal smug look erected and posed perfectly on his face.
"I'm always formal with the enemy." That shuts him up for a minute, but he soon comes back at her.
"Not to say I am the enemy, but doest his mean your relationship with Agent Vaughn here is informal?" He sounds like a four year old asking one of those obvious answers and I can literally feel Vaughn seething with anger. It's fun to listen to. Stupidly, Sark's also indirectly encouraging the relationship, so it's unlikely that I'll step in any time soon.
I can predict Sydney's answer but she's stopped when Jack turns back around, both hands off the wheel, only a knee keeping it steady, he leans right over the chair, glancing back at the road every now and then. I'm not quite as confident as him and suddenly I know how he must have felt when I did this. I hold the wheel with one hand and keep a steady eye on the traffic that surrounds us.
"Mr. Sark, I never actually agreed to let you go and so, as my wife," he froze as the words left his mouth and I can see Sark opening his mouth out of the corner of my eye. Jack recovers just in time and continues, I'm surprised that he doesn't correct himself, but he just says it again, I could swear he's enjoying the words, "As my wife has already stated, you are outnumbered. So don't push your luck."
He turns back around and grabs the wheel from me, his hand skimming over mine in a way so that I'm not entirely sure if it was touching or not. I stare at him, shocked and silently, involuntarily pleased at this new found Jack. He takes the wheel and I turn and wink at Sydney who's now watching the two of us, Jack and I, like a hawk. She asks me with her eyes what's going on, but I just shrug and turn back to look at the ever nearing rainforest.
Two hours later, during which no one has spoken a word but several very meaningful looks have been passed, Jack pulls off to the side of the road. We're surrounded by lush green rainforest, the kind you see when you look it up in a book and the kind only ever described in stories. There are ferns everywhere, a scattering of yellow and orange flowers under foot and red ones hanging from vines above our heads. I reach up, squirming out of my seat and pick one. It's beautiful. The sound of traffic is still present from the main freeway we turned off a few minutes ago, but the sound of running water and a waterfall are the prevailing sounds.
Jack looks at me and now, somehow knowing exactly what he's asking. He revs the car a few times before running it head first off the road and down a narrow beaten track, after a few minutes, he turns right and weaves a few meters in, coming to a stop when faced with a steep incline, covered in trees and lichen. I grin and pull myself up out of the car as my door is blocked by a tree. It's almost over.
The remaining four join me on my side of the car, Sark looking very upset as he runs a finger along the side of the car, three deep scratches issued along the once immaculate paint job. He looks at me, "I want the new one to have black interior."
Coming from anyone else, I would have taken it as a joke, but he's serious. None the less, I laugh out loud before turning to face the way the car was headed. Up the steep incline. Suddenly I wish I'd brought a longer pair of pants. I scramble up first, feeling a helping, steadying hand on my waist my first thought is Jack, but when I look back, I am, though I won't admit it when questioned, dismayed to find Sark grinning at me, obviously aware off my thoughts. I glare at him and continue to climb, grabbing at the brown roots that are sticking out of the ground.
Jack's voice carries itself up to me a few minutes later, "How the hell are you managing in those shoes?" His breath is labored as I'm sure is everyone's, min included. But he sounds close.
I pause a minute, trying to grab an extra breath and yell down, "Would you believe that it was part of my course with the KGB?" I can feel him grinning and when he laughs I almost slip and fall. It's a shocking sound, lovely and smooth, but so unlike what I've come to know of the man in the past four months. I can't help but grin and keep climbing. I can feel the ground leveling out beneath my feet and eventually I'm walking upright, Sydney beside me with the three men behind.
She smiles at me, obviously her trust growing, but looks away as I look up to meet her gaze. I smile at her, sadly, I suppose and keep walking, head down, the mud pulling the heels into the ground and making walking on flat ground just as hard as the incline. I sigh and look at her, opening my mouth before I can stop myself, "Sydney, I want to ask you a favor."
Well, this one is also coming to a close, but don't worry, one more major cliffhanger coming your way. Read and review people.
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: Enjoy people and read and review This one was a hard one to write.
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from.
Chapter Eleven
My eyes narrow in suspicion, he seems to be asking me for an answer I could have sworn he wouldn't want to hear. But I'm never one to turn away from a fight simply because I think the opponent is too weak, so I answer, "No, it isn't." He waits, still not looking at the road. "I'm going back to my cell because I promised your father that's what I would do."
"And why does this particular promise hold merit?" he pushed harder and I had to smile, finally he was rising his standards, taking me on without his normal defensive coldness, now it was more of a game than an argument.
I grin, and answer, not bothering to think, knowing that if I stay honest I could put him off, "Because this particular promise was to you." He smiles and for a second I think he's going to bring up past promises I've broken, but he doesn't turning back to continue to drive the car, now facing out the front of the wind shield. I smile at Sydney who's just giving me a look that plainly says she wants to know what I've done with her father and who the man in the front seat is. "Cuvee grabbed us, unarmed just outside the room you were being held in." She nods and I continue, noticing that Jack and Vaughn are listening in as well. "I figured that Cuvee might be dumb enough to fall for my usual tricks again and he was. Only your father was as well." I can see his mouth twitching up out of the corner of my eye. "I eventually just hit him really hard."
Sydney smiles, "And that's when you came and got me?" I nod and she looks down for a moment, giving Vaughn a chance to step in and ask his own question.
"When you say Jack broke you out, what exactly do you mean?" I laugh and I can hear Jack chuckling behind me, I flick my head to the side and he instantly quells the sound, staring ahead at the road, his eyes hard but with obvious amusement in them. "I mean, what did he trick the CIA into letting you out." Obviously Vaughn can't phantom the idea that he might have actually done something completely against the CIA.
I tell him the truth, enjoying the look of both respect and shock that he gives Jack's back, "He shot the CIA's apparently bulletproof glass out and then we just ran for it. He has quite a few connections."
Vaughn still isn't quite up to believing me and seems to be waiting for Jack to turn around again and explaining that I'm kidding. Of course he doesn't so I continue, defending Jack for his actions, "He had little choice. The CIA had no idea where you were and they weren't about to risk going after you. It was either break me out or leave you here to die. I think he chose well."
Sydney nods, "Me too," she pauses looking at her father with confusion before going on, "What exactly does Cuvee want?"
I sigh, I think I know and I figure I should tell them, now or never. "Right now, there's one thing he wants, and that's me." Jack turns, again forgetting the road, to listen. "Two years ago I recovered a book, it was written by Rambaldi and it was, of course forty seven pages long. I memorized it and then burnt it. As far as I know, I'm the only one on the planet with any idea of what was in it."
Jack cuts across me, not sounding as mad as I thought he would, "Why haven't you told us this before?"
I smile sadly, "The things in it, the words that I have in my head are worth billions of dollars; very few people actually even know I know them, but Cuvee does. If I were to even mention this to one person at the CIA, the entire crime world would know in a few hours. If I told you one page of writing, it could easily put both me and whom ever I told into danger. I prefer to keep it to myself."
Sark knows all of this, always had, he was one of very few of my agents that knew. Vaughn looks plain confused and Sydney seems to have drawn a blank. Jack looks back to the road to swerve a slow traveling pig truck before turning back to me. "So now, Cuvee is after you."
I nod, "If he could have me, he would essentially take control of the crime world." Jack nods, looking, for a second indecisive before smiling, weakly.
"You could have told me," he says, almost tenderly.
"I know, but there were too many people watching us." He nods and turns back to the road, turning right and then left, changing lanes and finding his way out onto the main freeway that will take us to a rainforest. I can see it in the distance, a sharp rise, a few cliff faces, a waterfall her and there and everything covered in deep green. I turn back around, I'm interested to see what will happen behind me and I want to think.
The wind hits my face and straight away I grab at the cream head scarf at my feet. Picking it up I put it back in place, along with my sunglasses, my hair is still being thrown around, but my vision is better and I can see what's ahead of us. Jack's still driving, faster than I thought the Mercedes could handle and overtaking every car. He's taken on a completely new look, a hand hanging down on the outside of the car, glasses on the end of his nose and a hand lightly guiding the car via the steering wheel.
I watch a little before voices start up behind me and I focus my attention on them. Sark, typically, starts the conversation, "So, Miss Bristow, how exactly did this sad excuse for an agent manage to get you caught?" I grin, nice opener by Sark, really a great way to get her attention by insulting the love of her life.
Sydney's voice comes back, overlapping Vaughn's as he mutters something under his breath, "Actually, Sark, it was no one's fault. It was simply that they knew we were coming and grabbed us. I'll ask you to refrain from name calling as, after your usual sarcasm, it's the lowest form of insult. I can feel Sark's face falling, but he still manages to come back at her straight away.
"Why so formal, Miss Bristow?" if I turn I'm sure I'd find him grinning at her, normal smug look erected and posed perfectly on his face.
"I'm always formal with the enemy." That shuts him up for a minute, but he soon comes back at her.
"Not to say I am the enemy, but doest his mean your relationship with Agent Vaughn here is informal?" He sounds like a four year old asking one of those obvious answers and I can literally feel Vaughn seething with anger. It's fun to listen to. Stupidly, Sark's also indirectly encouraging the relationship, so it's unlikely that I'll step in any time soon.
I can predict Sydney's answer but she's stopped when Jack turns back around, both hands off the wheel, only a knee keeping it steady, he leans right over the chair, glancing back at the road every now and then. I'm not quite as confident as him and suddenly I know how he must have felt when I did this. I hold the wheel with one hand and keep a steady eye on the traffic that surrounds us.
"Mr. Sark, I never actually agreed to let you go and so, as my wife," he froze as the words left his mouth and I can see Sark opening his mouth out of the corner of my eye. Jack recovers just in time and continues, I'm surprised that he doesn't correct himself, but he just says it again, I could swear he's enjoying the words, "As my wife has already stated, you are outnumbered. So don't push your luck."
He turns back around and grabs the wheel from me, his hand skimming over mine in a way so that I'm not entirely sure if it was touching or not. I stare at him, shocked and silently, involuntarily pleased at this new found Jack. He takes the wheel and I turn and wink at Sydney who's now watching the two of us, Jack and I, like a hawk. She asks me with her eyes what's going on, but I just shrug and turn back to look at the ever nearing rainforest.
Two hours later, during which no one has spoken a word but several very meaningful looks have been passed, Jack pulls off to the side of the road. We're surrounded by lush green rainforest, the kind you see when you look it up in a book and the kind only ever described in stories. There are ferns everywhere, a scattering of yellow and orange flowers under foot and red ones hanging from vines above our heads. I reach up, squirming out of my seat and pick one. It's beautiful. The sound of traffic is still present from the main freeway we turned off a few minutes ago, but the sound of running water and a waterfall are the prevailing sounds.
Jack looks at me and now, somehow knowing exactly what he's asking. He revs the car a few times before running it head first off the road and down a narrow beaten track, after a few minutes, he turns right and weaves a few meters in, coming to a stop when faced with a steep incline, covered in trees and lichen. I grin and pull myself up out of the car as my door is blocked by a tree. It's almost over.
The remaining four join me on my side of the car, Sark looking very upset as he runs a finger along the side of the car, three deep scratches issued along the once immaculate paint job. He looks at me, "I want the new one to have black interior."
Coming from anyone else, I would have taken it as a joke, but he's serious. None the less, I laugh out loud before turning to face the way the car was headed. Up the steep incline. Suddenly I wish I'd brought a longer pair of pants. I scramble up first, feeling a helping, steadying hand on my waist my first thought is Jack, but when I look back, I am, though I won't admit it when questioned, dismayed to find Sark grinning at me, obviously aware off my thoughts. I glare at him and continue to climb, grabbing at the brown roots that are sticking out of the ground.
Jack's voice carries itself up to me a few minutes later, "How the hell are you managing in those shoes?" His breath is labored as I'm sure is everyone's, min included. But he sounds close.
I pause a minute, trying to grab an extra breath and yell down, "Would you believe that it was part of my course with the KGB?" I can feel him grinning and when he laughs I almost slip and fall. It's a shocking sound, lovely and smooth, but so unlike what I've come to know of the man in the past four months. I can't help but grin and keep climbing. I can feel the ground leveling out beneath my feet and eventually I'm walking upright, Sydney beside me with the three men behind.
She smiles at me, obviously her trust growing, but looks away as I look up to meet her gaze. I smile at her, sadly, I suppose and keep walking, head down, the mud pulling the heels into the ground and making walking on flat ground just as hard as the incline. I sigh and look at her, opening my mouth before I can stop myself, "Sydney, I want to ask you a favor."
Well, this one is also coming to a close, but don't worry, one more major cliffhanger coming your way. Read and review people.