Earthly Posessions: The Ritual

Chapter rated PG-13

17 Months Earlier…

Vaughn ran away from the bullet; dodging it. Jumping on the bed he reached for the gun, but it was too late. Sydney arched her back and used her unwounded leg to press against his chest, pushing off her bed. Vaughn's body flew towards the wall. Groaning in pain as he hit the cream-coloured wall, he slumped against it.

Sydney stared at him menacingly, watching him as he gathered himself from the fall.

"Syd, you're making a big mistake," Vaughn warned her.

She fired a warning shot towards him, missing his head by inches. "My mother, Vaughn? My mother?"

"Will you just calm down for a minute?" Vaughn's voice had an urgent tone to it, and Sydney couldn't help but sit up straight in her bed and stare at him.

"I really want to tell you, but it's for your protection."

"My what?"

"I can't tell you… Syd, you have to trust me."

He walked over to her, opening his arms as if he were about to hold her. She dropped her gun and placed her arms around his.

Sydney took his arms in hers and pulled him onto the bed. Vaughn grabbed her leg, trying to stop her from moving, but she leapt off the bed using her arms, arching her back she took a deep, hard breath and kicked him, her leg hitting his chin.

Vaughn cried out again and fell back on the bed. Sydney extended her long, lean leg and placed it across Vaughn's stomach. Straddling him, she punched his face, watching as his head fell back on the soft mattress.

She leaned over him, grabbing a pair of handcuffs from the middle drawer of her nightstand and cuffed him to the side of her bed.

"What the…" Vaughn moaned

Scooping the gun off the floor, she took it in her hand and pressed it firmly against his left temple. "Tell me who you're working for," she told him in a threatening tone. "Tell me or I swear I will kill you Vaughn."

Present Day

"Sydney."

Sark looked up from his desk. He had been busy writing something when Sydney had broken into his apartment and entered his study.

Sydney looked around the room, thinking that it was well decorated for an apartment Sark would only live in for a few weeks.

She watched as he put his pen down, pushed his chair back and walked towards her. She embraced him and kissed his cheek.

"I couldn't sleep," she confided in him. Curious to see what he was writing, she let her hand linger down to his arm. She slowly moved towards his desk, sitting in his chair. Sark obviously had other things on his mind because he didn't notice her peeking at the piece of paper as he sat down in front of her.

She took the pen from his desk and started playing with it.

"Would you like to stay here tonight?" Sark asked her. Then, remembering what their arrangement had been in Turkey, and all of the events that had occurred in the past two years, he added, "I'll take the couch."

"Vaughn's expecting me tonight," she replied.

"Oh, a dinner date. How charming." Sark smiled at her, his grin seeping with sarcasm.

"I want to see the surveillance pictures you took of the facility," she told Sark, putting her legs up on his desk and sinking further into his chair.

Sark grabbed a file from his desk and threw it at Sydney. "They've got some security cameras on the corners of the building, a security guard and a lovely bulldog named Barney."

"Barney? Are you sure this is an Association facility?"

"Sydney, trust me. They've done an excellent job in keeping up appearances. The whole town thinks it's a boarding school. The kids have a debating competition Thursday night. Would you like to accompany me?"

Sydney peeled open the closed envelope Sark had given her. "They know what we look like," she reminded him, browsing the grainy black-and-white pictures.

There she was. Her daughter, walking in a straight line with other children, all around her age. She was wearing a short blue skirt, a white blouse and holding books in her hand. Sydney flipped through the pictures, seeing her daughter practicing judo on the school's main lawn.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she started remembering all the days she had spent without her daughter. What would her daughter have been like, she wondered, if she had stayed with her parents? How would things have worked out if the Association had never taken Adana?

Sark came up to Sydney and kissed her tears away. Sydney wasn't expecting this sudden burst of affection and she pulled away slowly.

"I have to go," she told him. "Vaughn's expecting me."

Sark withdrew from his embrace, but still held Sydney's hand in his. "Sydney… it's fairly obvious now you have been less than forward with me on the matter of Agent Vaughn."

"I told you, I don't know who he's working for." She pushed against the chair and stood up.

"Your father sent me these." Sark tossed Sydney another envelope and walked out of the room, obviously disappointed that Sydney's loyalty remained with Vaughn. "I trust you can let yourself out," he told her as he walked away.

17 Months Earlier

Sydney stood in the lounge room of her father's house, watching him as he ended a phone call with Vaughn.

Her father finished his conversation and handed her a cup of coffee. "You're fortunate that Vaughn loves you. It allows him to see past your blunders." He grabbed his jacket from the sofa and put it on.

"Dad, he was talking to Mom. She called him!"

"Sydney, we've been over this. He's undercover."

"What did Mom say? Did you contact her?"

"She told me that she's protecting you."

"That's what Vaughn said," Sydney told her father. She spoke in an elevated tone. "But I don't trust him, not even for a second."

"Sydney, I trust your judgement but even Irina doesn't know what Vaughn's up to." Jack grabbed a tie from where his coat was and started to loop the black silk. "She's been helping him infiltrate the Association, that much I know."

Sydney stared at her father, unsure of what to say. Finally, she took her father's tie in her hands and knotted the material in place. "Dad, is Mom Association? Is she one of them?"

Jack didn't say anything. He stood in front of a small mirror in the hallway, straightening up his tie.

"In the phone call, mom said something about Project Sphere. Do you know what it is? Can you tell me anything?" Moving so that she was standing right in behind him, she looked into his eyes through the mirror and straightened up his tie. She took her hand and placed it just underneath his shoulder, turning slightly so that he was looking straight into her eyes. "Please?"

Jack turned away and walked towards the door. "I have to go to a meeting. We doesn't know where your… Adana… is. End of discussion," Jack told her.

Present Day

Sydney and Sark made their way through the dense forest surrounding the Association's training facility. Hiding behind a shrub, Sark took out his binoculars. Sydney did the same, watching as limousines, Porches and the occasional Chevy made their way through the entrance of the exclusive school. Women and men, dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxedos, waved and smiled at each other as they walked into the main building.

The building itself was old and made of a light-coloured, almost grey, stone. Although it was a private boarding it didn't seem to have employed a gardener as various plants had creeped their way up across the stonewalls. Near the North-East corner of the building stood a bell tower; the bell itself stood proudly. It was ringing and Sydney realised that this wasn't just a weekly debating competition, it was something of an event.

"Ridgeway Academy," Sark said.

Sydney drew in a deep breath of the cold country air. "If it wasn't Association it almost seems like a place we'd hide Adana."

"Maybe that's what they were counting on," Sark told her. Sydney hesitantly smiled, wondering if he was joking or if there was something more significant behind his comment.

"How are we going to get inside?" Sydney looked at Sark. "All these people… where are the vulnerabilities?"

Sark took out a small, neatly wrapped package from his bag. Sydney watched as he slowly and carefully unwrapped it. He placed it on the ground. "Here, Barney, Barney," he called out into the blackness.

Out of nowhere a large, fierce looking bulldog ran towards Sark, barking. Sark pushed the piece of T-bone steak towards Barney, who barked again, this time in appreciation, and proceeded to wolf it down.

"We'll watch Adana debate through the air vents," Sark said. He leaned over, towards a small rose bush and plucked a large red rose. "For you." He placed the soft, fragrant rose petals underneath Sydney's nose. She took a deep breath, feeling the aroma of the rose waft through the air and up into her.

"To counteract the smell of meat," Sark said softly.

Sydney chuckled, thinking that Sark had ruined a perfectly romantic moment. She hit the side of his face softly. The simple thought that they were days away from having Adana back in their arms had made them the happiest they'd been in a long time.

He smiled at her and pointed to the control room, a small shack near the edge of the building. Nodding, she scurried behind him, towards Ridgeway Academy.

"She's so beautiful," Sydney said softly, watching Adana through the small holes cut out of the air vent.

"Is it her turn yet?" Sark asked, setting up the small computer.

"No, she's the second speaker." Sydney grabbed her binoculars and stared at her daughter. "Did you ever do public speaking?"

"I was more interested in sports." Sark took a small wire and attached it to the computer. Setting the wire towards the holes on the air vent, Sydney saw a bigger, better image of the event downstairs on Sark's monitor.

"Thanks." She huddled close to him.

They sat there for almost twenty minutes, looking at Adana through Sark's monitor, staring at their daughter. Adana had this way of sitting perfectly still in her seat, a considerable achievement for a four-year-old. Sydney and Sark watched as Adana stood up in her turn and argued precisely, her words weighed by the logic of argument and the persuasiveness of emotion.

As Sydney observed her daughter she wondered if she had lost her childhood, much in the same way that Sydney had lost hers. Adana didn't seem like a child, even though there she was, a young girl, a short person, looking like a child.

"Sark," she said, placing her hand on the back of his neck.

"Mmm?"

"Do you ever think… maybe the Association is doing a good job? Think about it, she's got a stable life, she's learning… it's got to be better than what we would have done." A look of regret was engraved on Sydney's face.

Sark turned in the air vent, grunting as the tight squeeze prevented his movement. "I can't believe I'm hearing this," his voice was filled with amusement. "From Sydney Bristow, of all people."

"It's just a moment of weakness," Sydney said firmly, dismissing his implications. "I'm just glad they didn't hurt her."

Sark turned to look at the monitor again and Sydney pressed her ear against the hole in the air vent, closing her eyes and listening to her daughter's soft, flowing voice as she reviewed her argument.

"Syd, take a look at this," Sark spoke in a concerned tone. He rotated the monitor so that Sydney had a clearer view and zoomed in on the badge that Adana's fellow classmate, the first speaker, was wearing. "It's a red ball. Where have we seen that before?"

"The circumference," Sydney said under her breath. "What… what are they doing? How do they know about that?"

"Khasinau was experimenting with it, yes? Maybe his experiments progressed more than we initially thought."

"That doesn't make any sense," she told Sark, moving the camera to look at the badges the other children were wearing. "Not all of them have it, see?"

Sark hurriedly moved the camera on the wire to try and see if Adana was wearing it but she had already concluded her argument and was now walking, with her back towards the camera, back to her seat. Taking a seat, Adana took a glass of water, sipped it, and placed it in front of her, obstructing the camera from seeing what she was wearing.

"I can't tell if she's wearing it," he sighed in frustration.

Sydney stared at Adana for the next half hour, never taking her eyes off her daughter as she listened to the other speaker's arguments. Finally, when it was over, she felt Sark take his hands in hers.

Together they watched as Madam Chair walked up to the centre of the stage. The crowd put their hands together once more for the children, all of them had delighted smiles plastered across their faces.

Sydney and Sark watched as both teams stood up to receive their awards.

"Do you think she remembers us?" Sark asked Sydney, watching as Adana grabbed her small trophy with glee.

"It's been two years, but… I hope so."

"I read somewhere that a child remembers their mother from the way they smell, the touch of their skin. Perhaps she'll remember you."

Sydney blushed, looking from Sark to the monitor. "What's this?"

A man stood up from the first row of the crowd and walked towards the stage. His face was turned away from the air vents, both Sark and Sydney had no idea who he was.

"I'd like to personally thank Ms Poseinas for adjudicating this week's debating competition. I hope to see you all next week for the Championships."

The crowd clapped again.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, shall we start the bidding?

"Bidding?" Sark asked, a sick look on his face.

Sydney shushed him as she listened to the man continue with his speech. "This auction has become something of a tradition at Ridgeway Academy. We pride ourselves in training the finest secret agents." The man walked to the edge of the room and sat down, his back still to Sark's camera, and watched as the Poseinas moved to the microphone.

Sydney and Sark watched, mouths open, as the members of the crowd gathered small placements with numbers on them from what Sydney assumed were teachers of Ridgeway Academy.

Ms Poseinas spoke into the microphone. "Thank you Headmaster," the woman said, nodding towards the man sitting in the chair. "The first speaker for the affirmative team, Peta Forthwell."

Peta, the young girl sitting next to Adana, straightened her skirt and walked towards the dark-skinned woman. "Peta Forthwell is an excellent member of Ridgeway Academy. She excels in judo and mathematics. The winner will have the chance to test her for the weekend. The bidding starts at five hundred."

"$550 000," a man in the crowd said, putting his number up.

"$570 000," a woman replied, staring down the man.

Sydney watched in sick anticipation as the bidding continued. After what seemed like an eternity, the crowd clapped as the woman stood to receive her prize. The young girl walked towards her, having been sold for a little under $700 000 for the weekend.

Poseinas clapped as the girl and the older woman walked away from the room. The girl had a huge smile on her face and Sydney knew that she would be ordered to take puzzles to measure her ability over that weekend.

"Sydney," Sark said loudly, and Sydney broke her gaze from young girl. "She's up," he told her, a tear welling up in his eye. "Perhaps we can move up the extraction to this weekend."

Sydney watched, holding Sark's hands close to hers, as Adana stood to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Although Sydney heard and understood the commotion downstairs she couldn't help but allow her thoughts to travel to her daughter. Unlike the girl before her, Adana stood perfectly still, her gaze never leaving the back of the room.

The man stood up and walked towards Adana, turning so that he stood behind her.

"Sark?" Sydney said urgently, focusing the camera on the man's face. "I know him, that's–"

"Cuvee," Sark interrupted. Then, turning the wire so that he could look at him directly, he spoke. "Headmaster?"

Sydney watched Cuvee intently as he held Adana in his arms. It was all she could do to prevent herself from attacking him. Cuvee seemed slightly bored of the bidding, as his gaze shifted across the room and up towards the ceiling.

His eyes wondered past the air vent, making their way back towards Adana when he noticed something odd. His gaze shifted back to the air vent, looking intently at the wire hanging from the holes.

He grabbed Adana in his arms. Taking a gun out of his back pocket he shot towards the air vent.

Up inside the air vent, Sydney yelped as the bullet missed Sark by inches. "Run! She told Sark as the bullets penetrated the vent. "We've been made."