Earthly Posessions: The Confrontation
Chapter rated R
18 Months Earlier
Sydney burst through the door of her father's house. She couldn't believe what she had been through in the last few hours – her daughter had been kidnapped, most likely she was dead. Sydney had begun to trust one of her enemies and worst of all, she'd been shot at by the man she loved. She didn't know who she could turn to but her father. She walked into the lounge room of his selectively decorated house. Her father was sitting on a dark green couch, talking on the phone.
"Dad, I really need to talk to you."
Her father looked up at her, a look of confusion on his face. "Yes, yes. I'll speak to you later… Goodbye." He put the phone down and stared at her. "Syd? Are you okay?"
Sydney stumbled across the lounge room and sank into a chair.
"What happened to your leg?"
"Dad, I was shot at. I was with Sark and… Dad, Patagonia! I was… I was too late," her words were drowned out by sobs. "They did it… Sark and I… our daughter… Adana…"
"Slow down, Sydney. What happened?"
"Our daughter… she was taken… I don't know if she's dead…"
Her father moved so that he was sitting beside her and hugged her. She was sobbing freely now, her tears sinking into her father's shirt. Although she knew she should be looking for Vaughn, torturing him for information… she wanted to torture him so much, to make him pay for what he did, she knew she couldn't. It would reveal too much and she couldn't let the CIA know about Adana.
She and Sark had gone back to the US. He had left to find his contacts within the Association in an attempt to find out what happened and she had gone straight to her father. She hadn't bothered to change, she was still wearing the same clothes she had when she lost Adana. Her pants were still bloody from the wound, the blood only blocked by gauze Sark had used from the first aid kit on his plane.
Jack leaned across his daughter's trembling body and kissed the top of her head. He pulled apart, slowly, stroking her hair. "It's okay," he whispered to her. "You should've told me."
Just then Sydney heard the sound of a toilet flushing.
"So, Jack, about the meeting…" Vaughn said, walking into the living room, unaware of Sydney's presence.
Sydney teared herself away from her father's embrace and stared up at Vaughn, greeting him with a look of utmost contempt and despise. "You!" she cried out, trying to get up from the couch. She tried to walk towards him, but her leg couldn't support her. She fell back into the couch, sinking back into her feeling of desperation and hopelessness. Then, realising that Vaughn was inside her father's house she turned to her father, "you… what did you do? How could you betray me?"
"Sydney." Vaughn stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her, as if he was looking at a ghost. His eyes wondered across her body. His eyes made their way down to her wounded leg. "My God, Syd…" he gasped, running over to her and taking her leg in his hands, as if he were about to examine the wound.
But Sydney couldn't understand why he was being the way he was. He tried to help her sit properly on the couch. Sydney felt so insulted that she pushed him away, watching him fall on the cream-coloured carpet.
"How could you do this!" She stared at him, her eyes never leaving his.
Vaughn opened his mouth to explain, but Jack cut him off. "You honestly didn't think I wouldn't find out, did you?"
Sydney's gaze shifted from Vaughn to her father.
"What Jack is trying to say, Syd… we got intel from Duvall before Sark got it. We knew the Association would want Adana…" Vaughn's explanation fell on deaf ears. "Syd, you have to believe me, it killed me to shoot at you, but you couldn't come after us… I wouldn't let them hurt you."
"No, you killed my daughter instead," Sydney spat out.
Sydney looked at her father, her beautiful brown eyes now bulging red from the hours she had spent crying. She felt as if she had no more tears to cry, and at the same time she felt guilty for not crying. She needed an outlet, somehow, she needed someone to blame for Adana's death. Sydney was sure her daughter was dead, she remembered waiting in agony to see her daughter's small stomach move up and down to take a breath, for any signs of life, but she had seen none before Vaughn picked her up.
"We were protecting you, Sydney. Vaughn joined the Association four months ago. No one at the CIA knows. No one knew except Vaughn and I… until now. I trust you will keep this quiet."
Sydney stared at her father, not knowing whether to be repulsed or relieved. Why wouldn't they tell her anything about Adana? Why was she being treated as if the last few hours weren't spent dodging bullets and crying in Sark's arms, but walking in a park, looking at ponds? She looked from Jack to Vaughn, but their faces were perfectly still. They were giving nothing away. Finally, her voice broke through the silence and made its way towards Vaughn. "Is she dead?"
"Syd… I'm so sorry. She was barely breathing when I picked her up. I don't know what they did with her. Our orders were to use all necessary force."
Sydney felt her face wrinkle and tears started to flow down her face once more. Her face turned an angry shade of red and she looked up at Vaughn, barely seeing him through her veil of tears. "Do you have my daughter? Do you know where she is?" She couldn't bring herself to ask about Adana's body. Saying that would be admitting that she was gone, and Sydney would never forgive herself for not protecting her.
"They took her from me as soon as we left the airp–" Vaughn's sentence was cut off by Jack's ringing phone.
Jack picked it up, spoke inaudibly and slowly put the phone back on its stand. "The CIA has just received some intel." Vaughn and Sydney didn't say anything.
"I'll bring the car around," Jack said, walking out of the room.
Sydney tried to get up using the walking stick she had bought off a small mixed business store in downtown Los Angeles, but it was no use. Vaughn moved so that he could help her.
"Syd, I didn't get a chance to tell you this but… I wanted to tell you I was undercover. I was ordered not to."
Sydney didn't say anything, but the look on her face spoke a thousand words.
"When we were at the airport, another group was there. Take a look at the satellite footage if you want. Syd, another group opened fire on us. I don't know who but I couldn't risk you chasing after us… all I could think about was protecting you." Then, realising that he had put her in a vulnerable position with Sark, he continued, "were you okay? Did he hurt you at all?"
Jack honked his car, signalling for them to hurry up.
With one big heave Sydney sat up. She looked at Vaughn and spoke quietly, precisely. "Sark wouldn't shoot at me. He knows a broken leg won't stop me from chasing the bastards that took our daughter away." With that, she slowly walked out of the living room of her father's apartment and towards his car.
Jack walked briskly behind Sydney as the CIA meeting finished.
"Sydney," he told her, pulling her aside. "I couldn't say this because Vaughn was at my house but I want you to watch your back when you're with him."
"Dad? Why? You said yourself, he was undercover."
"Mr Vaughn was uncharacteristically enthusiastic to take this undercover position. I'm questioning his loyalties and it would help if you did, too. He has an endgame, that much I know."
"What should I do?"
"I need you to swallow up your pride and get close to him again."
Sydney nodded. Although the last thing she wanted to do was work, she knew that it would bring her closer to finding Adana. She knew she couldn't sit around at her house, mourning over her loss. Something had to be done.
Present Day
Sydney smiled, closing the door after Weiss. She sighed to herself, thinking her get together with Weiss, Marshall and Carrie had gone well. But all throughout dinner her thoughts kept wondering back to the small box hidden inside her cupboard.
Ballerina shoes. Sark had sent her ballerina shoes.
Years ago they had spoken about the things they wanted their daughter to do. They wanted her to extend herself in sports; to learn how to protect herself, but they wanted her to become graceful, too. They didn't want to put her in the spy game; far from it. Sark had once opened up the possibility of sending her to a boarding school but they had dismissed that option because it meant they wouldn't always be able to see her.
Sydney felt her heart twinge with pain as she remembered the way Sark use to read to their daughter bedtime stories. His voice would move up and down, signifying different characters, and Adana would always giggle when he spoke as if he were a woman, complete with batting eyelashes and wigs.
Sydney took her cordless phone and walked towards the cupboard. Her hands moved across the ballerina shoes, she started to smell them. They smelt like talcum powder and Sydney wondered how many times they'd been used.
What hurt her most about her loss was that there was no photographic evidence that Adana had ever existed. All the home movies that she and Sark had taken with Adana were locked up in a safety deposit box in a bank. She knew that the Association was following her movements, and the CIA too would grow suspicious if either she or Sark were to access the contents of that box. She didn't want to admit it but Adana was starting to become a fading memory.
Sydney often wondered what her daughter looked like now. How would she behave? Would she still smile at everyone she saw? Did she still like to hear stories? Sometimes, when she knew she wasn't needed for a mission, Sydney would lock her doors and pull the blinds down on her windows. She'd play Mozart, remembering how Adana had learned to hum Sydney's favourite symphony.
She'd spray talcum powder around her room and close her eyes, leaning her head against a pillow and holding another her hands, imagining that Adana was still in the room, sleeping peacefully.
Adana would be celebrating her fourth birthday soon, Sydney thought, wiping the emerging tears from her eyes. She had celebrated her daughter's third birthday privately with Sark. He had brought a small cake and intel, she, her father and a bottle of wine. They had exchanged niceties while reading the files that Sark had brought with him. Sydney hoped that the ballerina shoes meant Sark had found their daughter but she also knew she shouldn't put too much faith in the situation. Faith could be a dangerous thing, she knew, but it was the only left that she could hang on to.
The phone starting ringing and a man with a British accent picked up. "Good Evening," he spoke into the phone.
Sydney breathed quickly. She was nervous about making this phone call, knowing that whatever it was Sark had to say to her was concrete. "Hi, Violet's florist? I was wondering if I can order a dozen red roses for tomorrow?"
The voice on the end paused. "I'm sorry, you must have called the wrong number, this is Vienna Florist, 1427 Parkway." Sark told her.
"Oh. Thanks anyway," Sydney hung up on the phone. She would meet him tomorrow.
It was midday. Sydney walked hurriedly across the crowded park, ready to meet Sark. She had bought a cappuccino from a starbucks around the corner. Sipping it now it tasted bitter, even after the two sugars she had used. For the first time in a very long time she felt scared and anxious.
She sat on a park bench overlooking pond. Watching the ducks circle in front of her, she turned to see a young blonde man walking towards her. He sat down but didn't look at her.
Sydney spoke first. "The CIA told me they let you go. You're getting better at not telling."
"I'm glad you called," he told her. "I've missed you."
"Did you find her?" Sydney asked hopefully. Then, lowering voice, she spoke softly. "Missed you too."
"She's in a training facility."
Sydney turned to look at him. "What?"
"Similar to Project Christmas."
"You're kidding me." Sydney's feelings of hatred towards the Association swelled up within her. "This is some kind of sick joke."
"The front is a boarding school in the outer suburbs of Boston."
"How did you find her?"
"You don't need to know what I went through for her," Sark told her. He put his hand down so that it was resting near Sydney's knee. "I miss her more than I ever thought I'd miss another human being."
She took his hand in hers and placed it on her lap, still watching the ducks as they waded through the murky waters of the pond. She spoke softly. "I know. I miss her too, so much." Her voice starting shaking.
Sensing Sydney's emotions Sark changed the subject. "They call it Project Sphere. They have hundreds of children there. I have reason to believe all of them are being trained as sleeper agents."
Sydney inhaled. "Where will their loyalties lie?"
"Like any other agent for the Association. No state, no official affiliation, just one small objective after another."
"Do you know how we can extract her?"
"It should be easy. A three-man operation. I trust Jack will join us."
Sydney smiled. "Kicking some Association ass? He wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Right then. Well I'm sure fun will be had by all on the latest Bristow outing." Sark sighed. "But there is one thing you should know. The school is in a small, sleepy town. There isn't much need for security on the outside. They do have one fail-safe mechanism though. If we fail on our mission, if we're not able to bypass their security systems on the outside, the whole place will be set on fire."
Sydney weighed Sark's words carefully, thinking of vulnerable position of the children in the facility. "What type of security system are we talking about?"
"When I went there I noticed something slightly odd about their formation. There are two groups of children. One group, the one our daughter is in, is the group being trained. The other group has already been trained and is acting as security. In a way, it's the most sophisticated security system of all. If we fail to get in and out quietly, we'll be left with no choice but to fight against children."
17 Months Earlier
Sydney opened her door, glad the doorbell had stopped ringing incessantly. Since her leg was broken it was difficult for her to move quickly from one room to another. Vaughn stood outside, looking at her.
It was raining outside and Vaughn was wet from head to toe. His face was wrinkled and it looked like he had been crying. She wondered why he looked so disturbed.
"I've been running around, trying to think of what I could say to you to make things right."
"You're all wet," Sydney said, grabbing a jacket that was splayed across a chair next to the door. She carefully put the jacket to his face, trying to get rid of the wetness.
"Sometimes I think I don't deserve you."
"What is that you want to say?" Sydney hobbled towards a chair.
"Syd, I… I care about you so much, you know that? I love you more than words can say, I really do…. I… I don't know what got into me at the airport, just seeing you with Sark, I… realised what it must've been like, to see me with Lauren and although I know you're too good for me I wanted to let you know that I uh… that I miss you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for shooting you two weeks ago and I'm just…" He stopped short, as if the words had escaped him.
He walked closer to Sydney, was sitting down on the chair, looking up at him with her poignant, sad brown eyes. He put his hands around her, holding her close, and looked deeply into her eyes. "What I'm trying to say is… please forgive me."
"Why do you have to be so beautiful?" Sydney asked. Remembering what her father had told her, Sydney rubbed her face against Vaughn's stomach. She needed to find out what his endgame was.
Sydney took a deep breath and spoke. "I've felt so lonely these past couple of weeks, with Adana and… I miss what we had. I wanted so much to just call you, to tell you that I needed to talk to you, but sometimes, when I catch your eye at the office, it's like you're a completely different person. I wonder if you still care and… I'm not going to pretend that I don't still care about you, Vaughn, I do, I'm never going to stop loving you, but things have changed and, these circumstances are beyond our control." She paused. "Thank you for coming here, but I think you've made a mistake."
Vaughn leaned down so that he was face to face with Sydney. "The biggest mistake I made was not looking for you when you disappeared. I loved you so much I almost drunk myself to death but I didn't have the courage to look for you. Instead I hid from everything. I'll never forgive myself for that, and I wish I could've been stronger, that I'd hung on to our love, that I'd had faith."
Vaughn took Sydney's hand in his and she held him close. "Come with me," he told her.
Curious, she nodded. He picked her up in his arms, making sure he was holding her tight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him.
"I think I've found something better than crutches," she told him. "Can I just get you to carry me everywhere from now on?"
Vaughn smiled, kissing her forehead softly. He walked towards her bedroom. Opening the door of her bedroom, he laid her softly on her double-sized bed, making sure her wounded leg was comfortable, and showered her face with gentle, tender kisses.
He moved his hands underneath Sydney's shirt, pulling it up over her head. His hands made their way across her firm stomach and underneath her back. Sending shivers up her spine, his hands travelled up across her back, fumbling for a minute, and then quickly unstrapped her bra.
He held her close, kissing her hair tenderly and whispering sweet nothings into her ear, telling her how much she meant to him and how much he loved her. After what felt like an eternity he rolled over, moving so that he was no longer inside her, and held her close.
She leaned over him, her arm dangled across his chest, and kissed him softly. Closing her eyes, she fell asleep in his arms and he held her close, watching her as she peacefully slept.
Sydney awoke with a start, hearing a ringing noise. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, trying to figure out where she was. Thinking the noise was coming from her phone she leaned over her bed, but it wasn't.
She heard the shower running then, and remembered the night she had spent with Vaughn. She leaned over the other side of her bed, fishing his phone from the floor.
"Vaughn? Someone's calling," she yelled out, but Vaughn was singing too loudly in the shower to hear her. She smiled to herself when she heard the chorus to one of his favourite daggy 80s songs.
She put his phone on the table, watching as a new text message arrived saying he had a new voice mail message. The number on the message seemed eerily familiar to her.
She stared at the phone, wondering if she should listen to the message. She trusted Vaughn, but she trusted her father, and Jack had told her Vaughn was up to something. Deciding that it was better to know, she picked up the small phone and listened to the voice mail.
Sydney watched as Vaughn walked into her bedroom, towel drying his hair. He was still singing to himself and had a sweet, goofy smile on his face.
"Good morning," Sydney told him, leaning over her bed.
He looked up to see her and stopped dead in his tracks. The towel fell to the floor.
Sydney sat uprightly on her bed, holding a gun between her fingers.
"I don't know what you're up to," Sydney said, staring angrily at Vaughn. "But if you don't start explaining to me in the next five seconds why exactly my mother is calling your private number, I'm going to shoot you."
Vaughn took a step forward. "Syd, don't be ridiculous."
Sydney cocked the gun. "Five."
Vaughn continued to look at her, unsure of exactly what to say.
"Four."
"I… uh… Irina…"
"Three."
"Syd, come on now…"
"Two."
Vaughn didn't say anything. He just stared at Sydney blankly, as if he had no idea what to say, and at the same time he didn't want to say anything.
"One."
Reluctantly, Sydney felt her fingers squeeze the trigger on her gun. Her heart broke as she watched the bullet fly out of her small berretta and shoot towards Vaughn.