Jack had waited at the entrance, growing more and more impatient as the
minutes ticked by. They should be here by now. Dixon's unexpected
appearance had been a godsend, but what if all three of them were now
captured? There was little Jack could do without calling in backup, and he
doubted the CIA would drop everything and send an extraction team to Taipei
for a group of rogue agents who had deliberately gone against protocol. In
fact, Jack knew that from Devlin's point of view, they had stolen valuable
intelligence data and handed it over to the other side. They'd be lucky if
they weren't accused of treason when they got back. That is, if they all
made it back alive.
Finally fed up, Jack felt he had no choice but to go in after them. He edged his way, slowly into the building, watching for guards, as well as any sign of the missing agents. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he whirled around.
"Mr. Tippin, do you realize just how close I came to putting a bullet through your head?" he seethed through clenched teeth, lowering his gun.
Will blanched visibly, but took a step forward. "The sedative you gave me wore off. I saw you go inside the warehouse and thought maybe there was something I could do to help." Will, swallowed, painfully. He looked at Jack and tried to keep his gaze steady. "If there is anything--anything--I can do to help Sydney."
"Go back to the van, Mr. Tippin," Jack ordered sharply, cutting him off. "You're of no use to me or to Sydney in your present condition. You'll only endanger yourself further."
The truth was Will was in almost as much danger in the van as he was inside the building with him. Will didn't move, and Jack sighed. He reached inside his jacket and handed the battered and bruised reporter a gun. "Take this, but stay behind me."
They continued edging their way around corridors. Will followed Jack's lead, but stayed at least three steps behind him. Jack peered around the next corner and then swore under his breath. Will's sweaty fingers gripped the gun Jack had given him more tightly, but he was confused by the barely perceptible relaxation in the older man's stance. When Jack did not advance, Will's curiosity got the better of him, and he almost stumbled over him in his effort to get a glimpse of whatever Jack had seen.
"Who the hell is that?" Will whispered, stunned.
Just around the corner stood Sydney cradled in the arms of a stranger. Will watched as the man kissed the top of her head and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His heart constricted as he saw her lift her head and look up at the man with eyes full of wonder and something else--love?
Jack didn't give him time to analyze the significance of her gaze, though, and roughly hauled him back around the corner before Dixon could turn in their direction.
However Jack, too, had gazed at Sydney and Vaughn meditatively for a moment, unaccountably loath to interrupt their embrace. Of all the times and places, he thought exasperatedly, but he had to acknowledge that a small part of him was glad to see them together, despite the fact that they were ensconced in each other's arms--protocol be damned.
He attempted to trace the source of this inner weakness, but then noticed Will was still staring at him, expecting an answer.
"That man is Sydney's handler--" Jack began, wondering just how much of Sydney's covert activities he wanted to reveal to Tippin.
"I can see that!" Will interrupted, conscious of the irritation and jealousy in his own voice, but unable to mask it. "Who the hell is he?"
Jack glared at Will, his lips compressed and his eyes steely. As much as he didn't care for Sydney and Vaughn's timing or choice of location, he liked Tippin's tone of voice and his reaction to the situation even less.
"Agent Michael Vaughn is Sydney's contact at the CIA and like you, her friend," he stated coldly.
Will slowly shook his head at Jack's words.
That's where you're wrong, buddy, he thought, the truth slowly taking on certainty in his mind. Sydney and I are friends, but she's in love with him. Him. Michael Vaughn. That should be as frickin' obvious to you as it is to me.
Catching Jack's eye again, he was startled by the man's glare and was afraid he had spoken his thoughts aloud.
"Listen, Mr. Tippin," Jack said curtly, clearly out of patience. "There was much Sydney couldn't--in fact, was forbidden--to share with you and Francie about her work. Agent Vaughn has been there for her, when neither you, nor I, nor Francie could be. He has risked both his career and his life on this mission, and he came simply because he knew you were a close friend of Sydney's and that your life was in danger. Michael Vaughn has earned Sydney's gratitude and my respect for that. I believe he deserves yours, as well."
Will swallowed and then nodded his head, utterly abashed and no longer able to meet Jack Bristow's gaze.
Jack gazed at the battered and bruised man in the bloodied sweatshirt beside him--a boy, really--and felt something like remorse. It was clear to him that Tippin had feelings for his daughter that she did not entirely requite. No doubt his dogged pursuit of Daniel Hecht's killers was designed to win her love--the love Tippin had just now watched her bestow on Vaughn.
For an instant Jack wished he could take back his words and spare this boy additional pain. But only for an instant. There were bigger issues at stake at the present moment than matters of the heart, and it seemed he needed to remind both Sydney and Vaughn of that, as well.
"Let's go," Jack said, stepping around the corner. Will followed, but with more hesitation.
"Will!" Sydney cried as soon as she saw him. Leaving Vaughn's side, she ran to him and hugged him. "Are you all right? Oh, my God, Will! What did they do to you?" she gasped, taking in all at once the rusty spots of dried blood on his sweatshirt and the livid bruises on his face. She fingered his swollen jaw, and Will winced.
"It's about time someone over here did an expose on unsafe dental practices. Heck, I'll write the article myself. They don't even have to use my byline. Who licenses these quacks, anyway? Godzilla?"
Will grimaced manfully, trying to wave away Sydney's attention. He was suddenly conscious that he struck a less than heroic figure amid the more seasoned agents--of which he included Vaughn, who was now approaching him.
Now that he could see him up close, Will saw that Vaughn looked haggard. Clearly, this man had gone through high water and a good bit of hell in order to be standing here beside Sydney. They eyed each other for a moment, and unexpectedly, Will held out his hand to him.
"Jack told me everything you've done. What you risked to be here. Thanks. I just want to say--thanks," he ended, rather lamely, trying not to think about Sydney or the embrace he had seen moments ago and focus solely on the fact that this man had helped save his life.
Slightly taken aback, Vaughn nodded and grasped Will's hand in return.
Up until now the mere mention of Will's name had been enough to send him into a jealous snit. He remembered Sydney coming to the warehouse the night she took Will to the dinner party at Sloane's. She had looked absolutely fabulous in that black tank dress. He couldn't help but notice how it hugged every curve of her body, despite the fact that Jack had been standing right there watching him.
Even though he knew it would have broken every rule in the book, he had wanted to accompany Sydney to that party. But he played the "Company" man, gave her the counter mission, and watched wistfully as she turned to go-- except that a "Company" man would never have told her she looked pretty.
Pretty! What a unbelievably absurd understatement!
For the rest of night he had tortured himself with images of Sydney and Will together: Will helping her with her coat, pulling the chair out for her, sitting next to her at the table, his knee almost touching hers. It drove him absolutely crazy. The truth was that he was more jealous of Will than he had been of Noah Hicks. Noah had come and gone, but Will was a constant part of Sydney's everyday life--the part of her life Vaughn was forbidden to share.
For that reason and more, he had expected to hate Will on sight. However, he was surprised to find that wasn't the case. He liked the reporter's self- deprecating humor and had a grudging respect for his scruffy courage. He even felt a degree of camaraderie with him. After all, hadn't they both broken the rules and risked everything in order to help Sydney? But now as he looked at the man he once considered a rival for Sydney's affections, it occurred to him that Will might be as envious of the role he played in Sydney's life as he was of the role Will himself played.
Jack glared at Will and Vaughn with equal impatience, but Sydney glanced back and forth between the two men, a smile creeping over her face. However, any further exchange was cut off by an alarm, which suddenly began keening like an air raid siren.
Dixon and Jack exchanged glances, sharing a sudden realization that explained why there were no guards on this side of the building: the warehouse was being evacuated, probably through a secret passageway or hidden exit. "The Man" was using the guards who would normally be stationed around the building to remove whatever could be salvaged. The siren was the last warning before they blew up what was left of the lab, so that there would be nothing the CIA could use to further their own knowledge of Rambaldi or his strange inventions.
"Go!" Jack shouted, not bothering to explain to the others. "Get out of here. Now!"
Sydney whipped around and grabbed Vaughn's hand. There was no way she would leave him behind again. They started to run, with Sydney pulling Vaughn along. Will followed, then Dixon, while Jack brought up the rear. They reached the north entrance, just as the warehouse blew.
The blast threw all of them several feet. Vaughn and Sydney stumbled and rolled to the ground, while both Jack and Dixon dove to cover Will. Debris flew everywhere, as flames burst from the warehouse, traveling several stories into the air. Sydney crouched down until the worst was over, and then turned around, feeling the heat of the blaze on her cheek. The red and gold inferno mesmerized her, until Jack finally grabbed her and pushed her toward the van.
Where was her mother now, and what would be her next move?
Finally fed up, Jack felt he had no choice but to go in after them. He edged his way, slowly into the building, watching for guards, as well as any sign of the missing agents. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he whirled around.
"Mr. Tippin, do you realize just how close I came to putting a bullet through your head?" he seethed through clenched teeth, lowering his gun.
Will blanched visibly, but took a step forward. "The sedative you gave me wore off. I saw you go inside the warehouse and thought maybe there was something I could do to help." Will, swallowed, painfully. He looked at Jack and tried to keep his gaze steady. "If there is anything--anything--I can do to help Sydney."
"Go back to the van, Mr. Tippin," Jack ordered sharply, cutting him off. "You're of no use to me or to Sydney in your present condition. You'll only endanger yourself further."
The truth was Will was in almost as much danger in the van as he was inside the building with him. Will didn't move, and Jack sighed. He reached inside his jacket and handed the battered and bruised reporter a gun. "Take this, but stay behind me."
They continued edging their way around corridors. Will followed Jack's lead, but stayed at least three steps behind him. Jack peered around the next corner and then swore under his breath. Will's sweaty fingers gripped the gun Jack had given him more tightly, but he was confused by the barely perceptible relaxation in the older man's stance. When Jack did not advance, Will's curiosity got the better of him, and he almost stumbled over him in his effort to get a glimpse of whatever Jack had seen.
"Who the hell is that?" Will whispered, stunned.
Just around the corner stood Sydney cradled in the arms of a stranger. Will watched as the man kissed the top of her head and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His heart constricted as he saw her lift her head and look up at the man with eyes full of wonder and something else--love?
Jack didn't give him time to analyze the significance of her gaze, though, and roughly hauled him back around the corner before Dixon could turn in their direction.
However Jack, too, had gazed at Sydney and Vaughn meditatively for a moment, unaccountably loath to interrupt their embrace. Of all the times and places, he thought exasperatedly, but he had to acknowledge that a small part of him was glad to see them together, despite the fact that they were ensconced in each other's arms--protocol be damned.
He attempted to trace the source of this inner weakness, but then noticed Will was still staring at him, expecting an answer.
"That man is Sydney's handler--" Jack began, wondering just how much of Sydney's covert activities he wanted to reveal to Tippin.
"I can see that!" Will interrupted, conscious of the irritation and jealousy in his own voice, but unable to mask it. "Who the hell is he?"
Jack glared at Will, his lips compressed and his eyes steely. As much as he didn't care for Sydney and Vaughn's timing or choice of location, he liked Tippin's tone of voice and his reaction to the situation even less.
"Agent Michael Vaughn is Sydney's contact at the CIA and like you, her friend," he stated coldly.
Will slowly shook his head at Jack's words.
That's where you're wrong, buddy, he thought, the truth slowly taking on certainty in his mind. Sydney and I are friends, but she's in love with him. Him. Michael Vaughn. That should be as frickin' obvious to you as it is to me.
Catching Jack's eye again, he was startled by the man's glare and was afraid he had spoken his thoughts aloud.
"Listen, Mr. Tippin," Jack said curtly, clearly out of patience. "There was much Sydney couldn't--in fact, was forbidden--to share with you and Francie about her work. Agent Vaughn has been there for her, when neither you, nor I, nor Francie could be. He has risked both his career and his life on this mission, and he came simply because he knew you were a close friend of Sydney's and that your life was in danger. Michael Vaughn has earned Sydney's gratitude and my respect for that. I believe he deserves yours, as well."
Will swallowed and then nodded his head, utterly abashed and no longer able to meet Jack Bristow's gaze.
Jack gazed at the battered and bruised man in the bloodied sweatshirt beside him--a boy, really--and felt something like remorse. It was clear to him that Tippin had feelings for his daughter that she did not entirely requite. No doubt his dogged pursuit of Daniel Hecht's killers was designed to win her love--the love Tippin had just now watched her bestow on Vaughn.
For an instant Jack wished he could take back his words and spare this boy additional pain. But only for an instant. There were bigger issues at stake at the present moment than matters of the heart, and it seemed he needed to remind both Sydney and Vaughn of that, as well.
"Let's go," Jack said, stepping around the corner. Will followed, but with more hesitation.
"Will!" Sydney cried as soon as she saw him. Leaving Vaughn's side, she ran to him and hugged him. "Are you all right? Oh, my God, Will! What did they do to you?" she gasped, taking in all at once the rusty spots of dried blood on his sweatshirt and the livid bruises on his face. She fingered his swollen jaw, and Will winced.
"It's about time someone over here did an expose on unsafe dental practices. Heck, I'll write the article myself. They don't even have to use my byline. Who licenses these quacks, anyway? Godzilla?"
Will grimaced manfully, trying to wave away Sydney's attention. He was suddenly conscious that he struck a less than heroic figure amid the more seasoned agents--of which he included Vaughn, who was now approaching him.
Now that he could see him up close, Will saw that Vaughn looked haggard. Clearly, this man had gone through high water and a good bit of hell in order to be standing here beside Sydney. They eyed each other for a moment, and unexpectedly, Will held out his hand to him.
"Jack told me everything you've done. What you risked to be here. Thanks. I just want to say--thanks," he ended, rather lamely, trying not to think about Sydney or the embrace he had seen moments ago and focus solely on the fact that this man had helped save his life.
Slightly taken aback, Vaughn nodded and grasped Will's hand in return.
Up until now the mere mention of Will's name had been enough to send him into a jealous snit. He remembered Sydney coming to the warehouse the night she took Will to the dinner party at Sloane's. She had looked absolutely fabulous in that black tank dress. He couldn't help but notice how it hugged every curve of her body, despite the fact that Jack had been standing right there watching him.
Even though he knew it would have broken every rule in the book, he had wanted to accompany Sydney to that party. But he played the "Company" man, gave her the counter mission, and watched wistfully as she turned to go-- except that a "Company" man would never have told her she looked pretty.
Pretty! What a unbelievably absurd understatement!
For the rest of night he had tortured himself with images of Sydney and Will together: Will helping her with her coat, pulling the chair out for her, sitting next to her at the table, his knee almost touching hers. It drove him absolutely crazy. The truth was that he was more jealous of Will than he had been of Noah Hicks. Noah had come and gone, but Will was a constant part of Sydney's everyday life--the part of her life Vaughn was forbidden to share.
For that reason and more, he had expected to hate Will on sight. However, he was surprised to find that wasn't the case. He liked the reporter's self- deprecating humor and had a grudging respect for his scruffy courage. He even felt a degree of camaraderie with him. After all, hadn't they both broken the rules and risked everything in order to help Sydney? But now as he looked at the man he once considered a rival for Sydney's affections, it occurred to him that Will might be as envious of the role he played in Sydney's life as he was of the role Will himself played.
Jack glared at Will and Vaughn with equal impatience, but Sydney glanced back and forth between the two men, a smile creeping over her face. However, any further exchange was cut off by an alarm, which suddenly began keening like an air raid siren.
Dixon and Jack exchanged glances, sharing a sudden realization that explained why there were no guards on this side of the building: the warehouse was being evacuated, probably through a secret passageway or hidden exit. "The Man" was using the guards who would normally be stationed around the building to remove whatever could be salvaged. The siren was the last warning before they blew up what was left of the lab, so that there would be nothing the CIA could use to further their own knowledge of Rambaldi or his strange inventions.
"Go!" Jack shouted, not bothering to explain to the others. "Get out of here. Now!"
Sydney whipped around and grabbed Vaughn's hand. There was no way she would leave him behind again. They started to run, with Sydney pulling Vaughn along. Will followed, then Dixon, while Jack brought up the rear. They reached the north entrance, just as the warehouse blew.
The blast threw all of them several feet. Vaughn and Sydney stumbled and rolled to the ground, while both Jack and Dixon dove to cover Will. Debris flew everywhere, as flames burst from the warehouse, traveling several stories into the air. Sydney crouched down until the worst was over, and then turned around, feeling the heat of the blaze on her cheek. The red and gold inferno mesmerized her, until Jack finally grabbed her and pushed her toward the van.
Where was her mother now, and what would be her next move?