Those who could sleep rested for the remainder of the trip, but Sydney
remained awake, with Vaughn's feverish head cradled in her lap. She had
tried to make him as comfortable as possible amid the boxes, but even in
his sleep he winced whenever the plane hit the slightest turbulence.
Due to the altitude at which the plane was flying, it was extremely chilly in the cabin. Sydney rearranged the blanket around him and watched, helplessly, as his temperature soared and his breathing grew more and more tortured. In no time his body was wracked by chills, and he shuddered, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. Intermittently, his eyelids would flutter, and he would mutter something she was unable to understand.
She wiped the sweat from Vaughn's brow and prayed, as his delirium deepened. She listened, as he argued with Eric, justified his actions to Devlin, confronted his father's ghost, tried to warn her of the guards approaching from behind, and whispered endearments to her in both French and English. He was reliving the events of the last few days in his dreams, and Sydney was abashed by all that he revealed, knowing he was not in control of what he said. She felt as if she was seeing directly into his soul, and it humbled her and filled her with a fierce protectiveness. She tried to sooth him and encouraged him to sleep, but the torrent of words would subside only to pick up again a short time later. He fell asleep only when they were within an hour of L.A.
It was at this point that Jack made his way over to his daughter. "How is he?" he queried, the concern evident in his eyes, even though his voice remained cool and detached. It was the first time they had spoken since she had told him about her mother.
"He's delirious and his lungs are congested. It's already hard for him to breathe because of his cracked ribs. We need to get him to a hospital as soon as we get to L.A."
"I've radioed ahead and arranged for Agent Weiss to meet us at the airport. He'll take care of Agent Vaughn and make sure that he gets the medical attention he needs."
"What about Will?"
"I gave him another sedative and a heavy painkiller. He should be fine until we get to L.A. We'll have to take him to another safe house for the time being. The CIA can arrange for an oral surgeon to examine him there. Tippin's going to have to decide soon whether he wants to go into the witness protection program or become an operative. There's no indication that SD-6 is aware that you are a double agent. I'm convinced Irina is holding that information in reserve, to see if you will cooperate with her in the future. For the time being, I believe it's safe for you to go back to your apartment, but I will be checking in with you frequently."
Sydney nodded. She thought that would be the extent of their conversation, but her father cleared his throat. There was still something he wanted to say.
"Vaughn and Tippin are good men, Sydney. Both of them. It's obvious they care about you very much. You should be proud--very proud--of the way they handled themselves in Taipei. Try not to worry." He put his hand on her shoulder , briefly, and then turned to go.
"Dad?"
"Yes?" He turned back looking vaguely apprehensive that she would expect something else-some further proof of his emotional weakness.
"Thank you."
Jack gazed at his daughter in silence, and slowly nodded his head.
***
Both Sydney and Jack had to support Vaughn as they deplaned. Weiss got out of the car parked on the tarmac and jogged the remaining distance to the plane to meet them.
"Mikey, let me tell you something confidentially. You look like crap," Weiss said as he swung Vaughn's arm around his shoulder shifted more of Vaughn's weight onto himself. "I haven't seen you this messed up since Driscol wiped the ice with your ass back in the semifinals. Remember that game?" Weiss kept his tone jovial, but his eyes were heavy with concern.
Vaughn was too far gone to react to his friend's teasing. Sydney followed Weiss to the car and helped him get Vaughn into the backseat. He was barely conscious, and his breath came in shallow, wheezing, rasps.
"What the hell happened to you guys in Taipei?" Weiss growled, once he shut the door. This was precisely what he had tried to warn Mike about after Denpasar. He'd give Syd one of the famous lectures on appropriate agent- handler protocol he gave Vaughn, if he didn't think she'd kick his ass.
Sydney knew Weiss was angry at her for having endangered Vaughn's life. Maybe if she weren't so exhausted, she would have taken umbrage, but too much had happened in the last 48 hours. And, frankly, there was nothing he could reproach her with that she hadn't already chastised herself for during the long flight back to L.A.
"It's a long story," she said, sighing. "Vaughn cracked a few ribs. He has a fever and became delirious on the trip back. I think he inhaled a good deal of water back in Tapei. He needs a doctor. Please take--take good care of him."
Her voice faltered. She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold back the tears. She had cried in front of everyone else. She wouldn't cry in front of Eric Weiss.
Weiss glanced at her and knit his eyebrows. "Syd, hey, listen, don't worry," he said, soothingly, shedding his tough-guy act. "He's gonna be fine. Trust me. I wasn't kidding when I said I'd seen him messed up worse than this. Hockey's not a pretty sport, and Mike's no wuss."
Sydney sniffed, and wiped away the tears that stubbornly trickled down her cheeks, despite her best efforts at controlling them. She smiled briefly through her tears, which was precisely what Weiss had been hoping for.
"Really, go home," he continued. "Get some rest. I'll take care of everything and call you on a secure line to update you on his status. Mike wouldn't want you to worry about him."
"I love him," she said suddenly, staring intently at the asphalt.
She spoke so quietly Weiss barely heard her. He gazed at her over the roof of the car, speechless, all his worst fears confirmed. She lifted her head, and it nearly broke his heart just to look at her.
"Jeez, Syd, it doesn't surprise me," he sighed. "You gotta know at this point that he loves you, too. But, there's a reason why the CIA discourages this kind of thing," he continued on, his voice taking on new urgency. "Forget the fact that he's your handler, and it's clouding his judgment. You should just see the way he gets every time you go off on a mission. It scares the shit out of him that you might not come back. Now that he's taken it into his head to start accompanying you on jaunts like this one, it could get you both killed--that is if SD-6 doesn't spot you canoodling somewhere and kill you first."
He realized too late that he was shouting at her. He stopped abruptly, and threw up his hands. "Syd, I'm sorry. You don't need a lecture from me, especially right now. It's just, Mike's my best friend. I don't want to see him hurt any more than you do."
"It's okay," Sydney said, wiping away her tears. "You should-you should get him to the hospital, though," she told him, the strength and determination returning to her voice. "I heard everything you just said, and you're right, but we'll--we'll deal with it later, after Vaughn's recovered."
Weiss nodded, for the first time seeing a little bit of Jack Bristow coming out in her. "I'll tell you what. Mike's gonna be laid up for a couple of weeks at least. Write a message on a paper bag anytime and leave it at one of the drop off-points. I'll make sure he gets it. Just don't make it mushy or someone in recon will see it and have a field day."
"Thanks, Eric," she said. "For everything."
"Don't mention it. Now, seriously, go home and get some sleep."
Due to the altitude at which the plane was flying, it was extremely chilly in the cabin. Sydney rearranged the blanket around him and watched, helplessly, as his temperature soared and his breathing grew more and more tortured. In no time his body was wracked by chills, and he shuddered, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. Intermittently, his eyelids would flutter, and he would mutter something she was unable to understand.
She wiped the sweat from Vaughn's brow and prayed, as his delirium deepened. She listened, as he argued with Eric, justified his actions to Devlin, confronted his father's ghost, tried to warn her of the guards approaching from behind, and whispered endearments to her in both French and English. He was reliving the events of the last few days in his dreams, and Sydney was abashed by all that he revealed, knowing he was not in control of what he said. She felt as if she was seeing directly into his soul, and it humbled her and filled her with a fierce protectiveness. She tried to sooth him and encouraged him to sleep, but the torrent of words would subside only to pick up again a short time later. He fell asleep only when they were within an hour of L.A.
It was at this point that Jack made his way over to his daughter. "How is he?" he queried, the concern evident in his eyes, even though his voice remained cool and detached. It was the first time they had spoken since she had told him about her mother.
"He's delirious and his lungs are congested. It's already hard for him to breathe because of his cracked ribs. We need to get him to a hospital as soon as we get to L.A."
"I've radioed ahead and arranged for Agent Weiss to meet us at the airport. He'll take care of Agent Vaughn and make sure that he gets the medical attention he needs."
"What about Will?"
"I gave him another sedative and a heavy painkiller. He should be fine until we get to L.A. We'll have to take him to another safe house for the time being. The CIA can arrange for an oral surgeon to examine him there. Tippin's going to have to decide soon whether he wants to go into the witness protection program or become an operative. There's no indication that SD-6 is aware that you are a double agent. I'm convinced Irina is holding that information in reserve, to see if you will cooperate with her in the future. For the time being, I believe it's safe for you to go back to your apartment, but I will be checking in with you frequently."
Sydney nodded. She thought that would be the extent of their conversation, but her father cleared his throat. There was still something he wanted to say.
"Vaughn and Tippin are good men, Sydney. Both of them. It's obvious they care about you very much. You should be proud--very proud--of the way they handled themselves in Taipei. Try not to worry." He put his hand on her shoulder , briefly, and then turned to go.
"Dad?"
"Yes?" He turned back looking vaguely apprehensive that she would expect something else-some further proof of his emotional weakness.
"Thank you."
Jack gazed at his daughter in silence, and slowly nodded his head.
***
Both Sydney and Jack had to support Vaughn as they deplaned. Weiss got out of the car parked on the tarmac and jogged the remaining distance to the plane to meet them.
"Mikey, let me tell you something confidentially. You look like crap," Weiss said as he swung Vaughn's arm around his shoulder shifted more of Vaughn's weight onto himself. "I haven't seen you this messed up since Driscol wiped the ice with your ass back in the semifinals. Remember that game?" Weiss kept his tone jovial, but his eyes were heavy with concern.
Vaughn was too far gone to react to his friend's teasing. Sydney followed Weiss to the car and helped him get Vaughn into the backseat. He was barely conscious, and his breath came in shallow, wheezing, rasps.
"What the hell happened to you guys in Taipei?" Weiss growled, once he shut the door. This was precisely what he had tried to warn Mike about after Denpasar. He'd give Syd one of the famous lectures on appropriate agent- handler protocol he gave Vaughn, if he didn't think she'd kick his ass.
Sydney knew Weiss was angry at her for having endangered Vaughn's life. Maybe if she weren't so exhausted, she would have taken umbrage, but too much had happened in the last 48 hours. And, frankly, there was nothing he could reproach her with that she hadn't already chastised herself for during the long flight back to L.A.
"It's a long story," she said, sighing. "Vaughn cracked a few ribs. He has a fever and became delirious on the trip back. I think he inhaled a good deal of water back in Tapei. He needs a doctor. Please take--take good care of him."
Her voice faltered. She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold back the tears. She had cried in front of everyone else. She wouldn't cry in front of Eric Weiss.
Weiss glanced at her and knit his eyebrows. "Syd, hey, listen, don't worry," he said, soothingly, shedding his tough-guy act. "He's gonna be fine. Trust me. I wasn't kidding when I said I'd seen him messed up worse than this. Hockey's not a pretty sport, and Mike's no wuss."
Sydney sniffed, and wiped away the tears that stubbornly trickled down her cheeks, despite her best efforts at controlling them. She smiled briefly through her tears, which was precisely what Weiss had been hoping for.
"Really, go home," he continued. "Get some rest. I'll take care of everything and call you on a secure line to update you on his status. Mike wouldn't want you to worry about him."
"I love him," she said suddenly, staring intently at the asphalt.
She spoke so quietly Weiss barely heard her. He gazed at her over the roof of the car, speechless, all his worst fears confirmed. She lifted her head, and it nearly broke his heart just to look at her.
"Jeez, Syd, it doesn't surprise me," he sighed. "You gotta know at this point that he loves you, too. But, there's a reason why the CIA discourages this kind of thing," he continued on, his voice taking on new urgency. "Forget the fact that he's your handler, and it's clouding his judgment. You should just see the way he gets every time you go off on a mission. It scares the shit out of him that you might not come back. Now that he's taken it into his head to start accompanying you on jaunts like this one, it could get you both killed--that is if SD-6 doesn't spot you canoodling somewhere and kill you first."
He realized too late that he was shouting at her. He stopped abruptly, and threw up his hands. "Syd, I'm sorry. You don't need a lecture from me, especially right now. It's just, Mike's my best friend. I don't want to see him hurt any more than you do."
"It's okay," Sydney said, wiping away her tears. "You should-you should get him to the hospital, though," she told him, the strength and determination returning to her voice. "I heard everything you just said, and you're right, but we'll--we'll deal with it later, after Vaughn's recovered."
Weiss nodded, for the first time seeing a little bit of Jack Bristow coming out in her. "I'll tell you what. Mike's gonna be laid up for a couple of weeks at least. Write a message on a paper bag anytime and leave it at one of the drop off-points. I'll make sure he gets it. Just don't make it mushy or someone in recon will see it and have a field day."
"Thanks, Eric," she said. "For everything."
"Don't mention it. Now, seriously, go home and get some sleep."