Sark was angry. Angrier then he had been in a while. He had known Sydney
would be reluctant to talk, but he never pictured her to refuse him the
answer in a way such as this. He could play this way too though; he
decided he would just get more violent with her. That should make her
talk, right?
Sydney
Sydney awoke slowly. She could think of nothing but the exploding pain in her head for a few moments, remembering nothing of where or why she was there. Dawning began to strike her and she tested the restraints of the chair she had been tied to. No luck there, she thought as she realized Sark had probably taken into account her uncanny ability to escape most situations.
For the first time she began to let herself think and it truly worried her. She had no one to help her out of this one. She'd have to do it solo, and she wasn't all that sure she could...
Sark
"Excuse me sir, Mr. Sark?" a guard had entered Sark's office; it seemed the same guard that had reluctantly informed him she had awoken.
"Yes?" Sark countered seeming slightly annoyed.
"It's not my place to say, but I believe you are being a bit rough on the girl. Sir..." he said weakly at first one word spilling out after the other. He seemed to swell in confidence as each word came from his mouth.
It was barely audible when Sark said, "You are right in one fact: It is not your place to say, now leave my office." His words seemed more venomous then ever.
Guard
The guard stalked away from Sark's office as frustrated then ever as his phone began to ring. He ducked into a closet and answered it as quietly as possible.
"Hello?" he questioned in more of a hiss
"Have you talked with our friend Mr. Sark about my concerns?" the voice, clearly female, questioned.
"I have Iri..." he began to say but was immediately cut off
"Do not under any circumstance use my name over the phone anywhere near that organization..." she murmured.
"Yes ma'am..." he said weakly
"If my daughter is harmed anywhere close to severely under your watch, it will be your head, understood?" she said in clearly a more deadly voice then Sark had earlier.
"Clear." He whispered quickly and hung up.
He exited the closet hoping he hadn't been seen.
Sark
Sark strolled back towards the cell, back towards Sydney. This time he would go in strong. He would get the info he wanted, well needed, and use any tactic he saw as necessary.
"Sydney, I will not be so lenient with you this time..." he said it in a tone meant to be menacing, but she just laughed.
"I don't believe you are in the position to laugh Ms. Bristow..." he cut off as she continued to laugh. He had no idea why she was laughing, but it angered him.
He struck out and caught her by the throat.
"Listen to me, and listen good Sydney. I could kill you if I wanted to, and maybe I do want to. At any moment I could, so be aware. I'm in charge, you are most definitely not! If I feel the need or if I simply want to I can and will hurt you. Are we clear? I strongly suggest for your safety that you answer my questions!" he finished clearly angry as he released her throat.
Sydney's head fell forward after she had been released. She choked for a moment struggling to take in air before she regained a normal breathing rate. She looked into his eyes and shook her head from side to side signaling she heard and understood what he said, but didn't give a damn.
"Sydney, you are certainly not making this any easier for yourself or me. Do you enjoy being difficult? Or are you just trying to defy me, because Sydney, I assure you that will not work in the long run."
Sydney shrugged as best she could in her current position and said, "Maybe it's a bit of both Sark."
Sark furiously positioned himself directly behind her and proceeded to place his hand on her cheek again. Sydney made no effort to move, but instead leaned into his hand.
"Sark, I do believe you are supposed to be torturing me, not coming onto me." And with these words in some odd way Sydney had the control back.
She despised the very idea of his hand on her, but she could sure as hell fake that she didn't, and who was Sark to tell. He had never been good at reading her.
"Sydney, I am growing impatient. Now tell me, do you miss Michael Vaughn?" he said it in a tone that Sydney was not used to hearing from him. It seemed anxious and nervous, as if he feared she would resist him and never answer. But the true colors of his tone only held for mere seconds, within a moment he had reversed back into his cool demeanor.
"You can be honest with me Sydney..." his tone was encouraging, but she knew it was a false one.
"What I want to know is why my romantic life has anything to do with you. Oh wait, could it be, Sark, because you don't have one? DO you feel excluded? Aww that's cute Julian," the way she said his first name unsettled Sark extremely. She used the voice she saved for talking to babies, and it offended Sark to now end.
"Sark," she started again in her mocking tone, "do you feel the need to take refuge in my social life because you lack your own?"
At this remark Sark grew furious. He came to the front of her his face inches from hers before he said," Michael Vaughn does not love you Sydney. He is at home with his wife completely oblivious to your location and situation!!" the last words were spat from his mouth in true distaste.
"You see Sark," Sydney said quite calmly, "that's just not true." The nature in which she said it only proved to infuriate Sark all the more.
"I trust Sydney that you know I am right, and are just choosing to ignore it. Shall I inform you of the truth? I think I will. Sydney, Agent Vaughn doesn't care for you anymore. It's quite possible he never did if he was able to move on so easily. I can also guarantee you he isn't looking for you. And Sydney ask yourself this: even if he knew you were gone, would he bother coming after you? My guess is the answer is no." He paused and allowed the words to sink in.
But sink in they did not, Sydney attacked him just as quickly.
"Sark, allow me to offer my condolences to you, I never really got a chance to apologize. When I was fighting who I had thought to be Francie, I had no idea that you were, shall we say, involved." She kept going as the anger in his face grew, "Is that why you are so interested in my life now Sark; because I ruined yours?"
Sark continued more malevolently then before, pretending as if he heard nothing of what she had said, "Admit it Sydney, you were never good enough for Michael. He saved you countless times, risked his life for you even, and what did you do to return the favor? Not much Sydney, and obviously not nearly enough. Don't you think he deserves better?"
He looked at her face, into her eyes. The defiance which he hated was still there and it grew as she said, "better? Ha how can there be anything better then me?"
Sark was beyond furious. He had come to a stalemate and he was unsure of what to do next. Out of frustration he shot out at her, he hit any bit of her his fists could connect with. He had never been angrier and it was all because of her. He had wanted her for so damn long and the realization that she was unattainable pierced him like a bullet.
All of the Sudden an emotion hit Sark hard. He wanted to cause her as much pain as he now felt.
He took his knife from his pocket and flipped it open in a matter of seconds, with such skill only an assassin could have. He pressed it to her arm as he said, "Sydney, I really wanted to forge an alliance between us, but now I see it is impossible."
"Sark, how long have you known me? I would never form so much as a friendship with you." The words came out in a hiss as she tried to hide the pain growing in her forearm from his blade.
Sydney
She could see her blood already dripping down her arm. The cut must be deeper then she had thought.
She laughed silently to herself as she watched Sark in such a fit of frustration. The truth was that every point he had made terrified her. She had thought of them every night when she was in her apartment by herself as she had so often been now that Vaughn was married.
She held onto the fact that she couldn't let Sark in on her emotions. If anything she would be her own downfall, she wouldn't let it be him.
She had secretly known she was nowhere close to good enough for Vaughn. Reality had sunk in a long time ago. She had wasted so much of his time loving him. He could have found someone proper who would have actually measured up to him. Who had she been fooling? Had she been fooling Vaughn? She didn't want to think she had played him. She never meant to hurt him. She never meant to hurt him...
Sydney began to feel the haze of unconsciousness floating across her eyes. She looked down to her forearm and saw a river of blood. She knew Sark was desperately trying to get her to cry out, but she wouldn't.
The last view she saw before she succumbed to the sweet oblivion was Sark throwing his knife in frustration and storming out of her cell. She passed out with a smile on her face.
She awoke 5 hours later as the guard stationed on the hall opened her cell door.
"Sydney, we have to move..." the guard encouraged.
"Who are you? How do you know my name?" she asked in seemingly desperate pleas.
"It doesn't matter right now, we just need to go." He said urgently.
He began the tiresome task of untying her many bindings.
"Go where? Back to L.A.?" she inquired. She thought of Vaughn, and how maybe the better thing for her to do was to stay away from him. Sark would never know it, but she missed him so much. She was afraid that if she saw him again, she may burst. "I cant go back there," she whispered, "I cant hurt him anymore." If the first bit had been a whisper, the second had been inaudible.
"Sydney, don't do this you need to go back. Mr. Sark's plans with regards to you will not get better, only worse." He was now pleading.
"Well, even if they do," she started, "If I stay here, there's no way I can hurt him anymore."
The guard had finished untying her and she fell immediately to the floor, the cut on her forearm obviously affecting her more then she would have liked.
"You are leaving me no choice Ms. Bristow. I have to follow the orders of Irina Derevko." He whispered.
"Irina? My mother?" she questioned loudly as she stood quickly.
Afraid that her loud cry would alert Sark the guard aimed a tranq gun at her neck and mouthed a quick, "Sorry." as the dart punctured her neck.
She fell quickly, the look of betrayal still on her face and her cry of pain still echoing in the small cell.
Sydney
Sydney awoke slowly. She could think of nothing but the exploding pain in her head for a few moments, remembering nothing of where or why she was there. Dawning began to strike her and she tested the restraints of the chair she had been tied to. No luck there, she thought as she realized Sark had probably taken into account her uncanny ability to escape most situations.
For the first time she began to let herself think and it truly worried her. She had no one to help her out of this one. She'd have to do it solo, and she wasn't all that sure she could...
Sark
"Excuse me sir, Mr. Sark?" a guard had entered Sark's office; it seemed the same guard that had reluctantly informed him she had awoken.
"Yes?" Sark countered seeming slightly annoyed.
"It's not my place to say, but I believe you are being a bit rough on the girl. Sir..." he said weakly at first one word spilling out after the other. He seemed to swell in confidence as each word came from his mouth.
It was barely audible when Sark said, "You are right in one fact: It is not your place to say, now leave my office." His words seemed more venomous then ever.
Guard
The guard stalked away from Sark's office as frustrated then ever as his phone began to ring. He ducked into a closet and answered it as quietly as possible.
"Hello?" he questioned in more of a hiss
"Have you talked with our friend Mr. Sark about my concerns?" the voice, clearly female, questioned.
"I have Iri..." he began to say but was immediately cut off
"Do not under any circumstance use my name over the phone anywhere near that organization..." she murmured.
"Yes ma'am..." he said weakly
"If my daughter is harmed anywhere close to severely under your watch, it will be your head, understood?" she said in clearly a more deadly voice then Sark had earlier.
"Clear." He whispered quickly and hung up.
He exited the closet hoping he hadn't been seen.
Sark
Sark strolled back towards the cell, back towards Sydney. This time he would go in strong. He would get the info he wanted, well needed, and use any tactic he saw as necessary.
"Sydney, I will not be so lenient with you this time..." he said it in a tone meant to be menacing, but she just laughed.
"I don't believe you are in the position to laugh Ms. Bristow..." he cut off as she continued to laugh. He had no idea why she was laughing, but it angered him.
He struck out and caught her by the throat.
"Listen to me, and listen good Sydney. I could kill you if I wanted to, and maybe I do want to. At any moment I could, so be aware. I'm in charge, you are most definitely not! If I feel the need or if I simply want to I can and will hurt you. Are we clear? I strongly suggest for your safety that you answer my questions!" he finished clearly angry as he released her throat.
Sydney's head fell forward after she had been released. She choked for a moment struggling to take in air before she regained a normal breathing rate. She looked into his eyes and shook her head from side to side signaling she heard and understood what he said, but didn't give a damn.
"Sydney, you are certainly not making this any easier for yourself or me. Do you enjoy being difficult? Or are you just trying to defy me, because Sydney, I assure you that will not work in the long run."
Sydney shrugged as best she could in her current position and said, "Maybe it's a bit of both Sark."
Sark furiously positioned himself directly behind her and proceeded to place his hand on her cheek again. Sydney made no effort to move, but instead leaned into his hand.
"Sark, I do believe you are supposed to be torturing me, not coming onto me." And with these words in some odd way Sydney had the control back.
She despised the very idea of his hand on her, but she could sure as hell fake that she didn't, and who was Sark to tell. He had never been good at reading her.
"Sydney, I am growing impatient. Now tell me, do you miss Michael Vaughn?" he said it in a tone that Sydney was not used to hearing from him. It seemed anxious and nervous, as if he feared she would resist him and never answer. But the true colors of his tone only held for mere seconds, within a moment he had reversed back into his cool demeanor.
"You can be honest with me Sydney..." his tone was encouraging, but she knew it was a false one.
"What I want to know is why my romantic life has anything to do with you. Oh wait, could it be, Sark, because you don't have one? DO you feel excluded? Aww that's cute Julian," the way she said his first name unsettled Sark extremely. She used the voice she saved for talking to babies, and it offended Sark to now end.
"Sark," she started again in her mocking tone, "do you feel the need to take refuge in my social life because you lack your own?"
At this remark Sark grew furious. He came to the front of her his face inches from hers before he said," Michael Vaughn does not love you Sydney. He is at home with his wife completely oblivious to your location and situation!!" the last words were spat from his mouth in true distaste.
"You see Sark," Sydney said quite calmly, "that's just not true." The nature in which she said it only proved to infuriate Sark all the more.
"I trust Sydney that you know I am right, and are just choosing to ignore it. Shall I inform you of the truth? I think I will. Sydney, Agent Vaughn doesn't care for you anymore. It's quite possible he never did if he was able to move on so easily. I can also guarantee you he isn't looking for you. And Sydney ask yourself this: even if he knew you were gone, would he bother coming after you? My guess is the answer is no." He paused and allowed the words to sink in.
But sink in they did not, Sydney attacked him just as quickly.
"Sark, allow me to offer my condolences to you, I never really got a chance to apologize. When I was fighting who I had thought to be Francie, I had no idea that you were, shall we say, involved." She kept going as the anger in his face grew, "Is that why you are so interested in my life now Sark; because I ruined yours?"
Sark continued more malevolently then before, pretending as if he heard nothing of what she had said, "Admit it Sydney, you were never good enough for Michael. He saved you countless times, risked his life for you even, and what did you do to return the favor? Not much Sydney, and obviously not nearly enough. Don't you think he deserves better?"
He looked at her face, into her eyes. The defiance which he hated was still there and it grew as she said, "better? Ha how can there be anything better then me?"
Sark was beyond furious. He had come to a stalemate and he was unsure of what to do next. Out of frustration he shot out at her, he hit any bit of her his fists could connect with. He had never been angrier and it was all because of her. He had wanted her for so damn long and the realization that she was unattainable pierced him like a bullet.
All of the Sudden an emotion hit Sark hard. He wanted to cause her as much pain as he now felt.
He took his knife from his pocket and flipped it open in a matter of seconds, with such skill only an assassin could have. He pressed it to her arm as he said, "Sydney, I really wanted to forge an alliance between us, but now I see it is impossible."
"Sark, how long have you known me? I would never form so much as a friendship with you." The words came out in a hiss as she tried to hide the pain growing in her forearm from his blade.
Sydney
She could see her blood already dripping down her arm. The cut must be deeper then she had thought.
She laughed silently to herself as she watched Sark in such a fit of frustration. The truth was that every point he had made terrified her. She had thought of them every night when she was in her apartment by herself as she had so often been now that Vaughn was married.
She held onto the fact that she couldn't let Sark in on her emotions. If anything she would be her own downfall, she wouldn't let it be him.
She had secretly known she was nowhere close to good enough for Vaughn. Reality had sunk in a long time ago. She had wasted so much of his time loving him. He could have found someone proper who would have actually measured up to him. Who had she been fooling? Had she been fooling Vaughn? She didn't want to think she had played him. She never meant to hurt him. She never meant to hurt him...
Sydney began to feel the haze of unconsciousness floating across her eyes. She looked down to her forearm and saw a river of blood. She knew Sark was desperately trying to get her to cry out, but she wouldn't.
The last view she saw before she succumbed to the sweet oblivion was Sark throwing his knife in frustration and storming out of her cell. She passed out with a smile on her face.
She awoke 5 hours later as the guard stationed on the hall opened her cell door.
"Sydney, we have to move..." the guard encouraged.
"Who are you? How do you know my name?" she asked in seemingly desperate pleas.
"It doesn't matter right now, we just need to go." He said urgently.
He began the tiresome task of untying her many bindings.
"Go where? Back to L.A.?" she inquired. She thought of Vaughn, and how maybe the better thing for her to do was to stay away from him. Sark would never know it, but she missed him so much. She was afraid that if she saw him again, she may burst. "I cant go back there," she whispered, "I cant hurt him anymore." If the first bit had been a whisper, the second had been inaudible.
"Sydney, don't do this you need to go back. Mr. Sark's plans with regards to you will not get better, only worse." He was now pleading.
"Well, even if they do," she started, "If I stay here, there's no way I can hurt him anymore."
The guard had finished untying her and she fell immediately to the floor, the cut on her forearm obviously affecting her more then she would have liked.
"You are leaving me no choice Ms. Bristow. I have to follow the orders of Irina Derevko." He whispered.
"Irina? My mother?" she questioned loudly as she stood quickly.
Afraid that her loud cry would alert Sark the guard aimed a tranq gun at her neck and mouthed a quick, "Sorry." as the dart punctured her neck.
She fell quickly, the look of betrayal still on her face and her cry of pain still echoing in the small cell.