In little under an hour, we arrived at a small, private airport near Burbank. Sark had fallen into a light sleep in the back of the truck, presumably from something my mother gave him. As she hopped out and rushed to awaken Sark and help him to the waiting jet, I numbly opened my door and stepped out. I stared up at the jet for a long moment, until my mother called to me for help. I turned and looked at her, and she stared deep into my eyes for the first time. I noticed a change cross her features, but I didn't concern myself with figuring it out. Trying to repress the images of Weiss that were still fresh in my memory, I helped Sark out.

We all ran to the plane, where a stony faced pilot greeted us with a brisk nod.

"Where to, Miss Derevko?" she glanced at me briefly, but I barely noticed. She sighed, and turned back to him.

"Norway," she blurted.

"Anywhere in particular?"

"I don't care, just get us out of here." The pilot turned on his heel, and my mother faced Sark and myself again.

"I have a place in Norway, we can recuperate and formulate our plans for Sloane." Without replying, I wandered to a window seat and settled in. I vaguely recall watching as my mother tended more thoroughly to Sark's wound, and they got comfortable. I saw Sark fall asleep, and I watched endless miles of sky pass us by. I must have fallen asleep as well; the next thing I knew, we were landing in Norway.

Sark and my mother were talking quietly, but they fell silent as the pilot reappeared.

"We have landed near Trondheim," he reported.

"Thank you," Sark said curtly. The pilot nodded and took his leave.

"What now?" I asked quietly. They seemed surprised to find me awake.

"How are you doing Sydney?" my mother asked.

"What now?" I repeated.

"We make a trip to Alesund. Irina has a compound there. We'll rest a few days, I'll have my arm taken care, everyone will… settle down, and then we'll take care of Sloane," Sark informed me, sounding much more like his normal self than he had earlier.

"Fine. Shall we?" I asked, indicating the door. Sark led the way, and we were soon headed to Alesund. During the trip, I fell back into dark thoughts. I still couldn't shake the fear that I would be responsible for the death of everyone else I cared about. As that idea crossed my mind again, I looked towards my mother. She was engaged in a deep conversation with Sark. I could see the wheels turning behind her dark eyes. As I watched her, a brief sense of safety washed over me. For one short moment, it seemed like somehow, she could make things better. But then a look of miniscule confusion crossed her features, quickly replaced by understanding. But that one moment's uncertainty was enough to erase my faith.

Not wanting the foundation of my sanity to be shaken anymore, I turned to blindly watch the scenery fly by outside. I tuned out the conversation in the front seat, and just focused my attention inward. The loss of Francie, Will, Marshall, and Weiss still reverberated through my soul, and the knowledge that I was responsible for the deaths of Dixon and Diane weighed heavily on my conscience. Without apology, my mind turned to Barnett and Kendall. Something about that still bothered me, but not in the same way. Something about them just didn't feel right.

I brushed all thoughts aside as the car came to a stop. Focusing my gaze on our surroundings, all I could see was trees. Many many trees.

"Is this compound a treehouse?" I said dryly. I could see a grin tugging at my mothers' lips, but she repressed it.

"Of course not. The trees are just necessary as a suitable cover for the actual buildings," Sark said.

"Naturally," I replied. My mother drove slowly down a small dirt road, through the darkness of the canopy, and came into a large clearing a minute later. I looked around, and easily sighted two buildings. Neither building was tall, but they were both very spacious. Sark got out of the car and walked towards one, while my mother and I went to the other.

"He'll join us again in a few minutes. He's getting his elbow taken care of. It's not as bad as it looks, I don't think, so we won't have to delay as long as we thought," she said. I nodded.

"Good," was all I thought to say. We each sat down on a luxurious black leather couch, waiting for Sark to come back. He walked in ten minutes later, with his elbow bandaged and a scowl on his face.

"You were correct, Irina. It's not as bad as it looked. In fact, the bullet seems to have passed through without even touching the bone."

"So there is no need to delay?"

"We can move ahead as planned." He sat down with us, bringing a map with him. Spreading the map on the table, my mother studied it with a critical eye.

"As you know, Sloane is in Greece- on the island of Crete, to be specific. It shouldn't be too hard to find him, as we have no reason to believe he's moved in the time since he took them hostage."

"Why would he stay there? We know he's there, there's no way he could…" I trailed off as the realization hit me. I looked up and my mother nodded.

"Unless he's toying with you," she finished. My eyes shut almost involuntarily.

"Bastard," I breathed.

"We don't need to risk a large strike; we'll take only ten men as backup. Otherwise, we may be too easily detected. I've been inside this base of operations, so I know all the security measures. We won't have a problem getting in."

"How can you be sure he hasn't changed anything since you left?"

"I told him I was going undercover in Ireland for two weeks to secure some potential Rambaldi artifacts. I used the magic word… he didn't question it at all." I nodded in satisfaction.

"Fine. When do we move?" My mother and Sark exchanged glances. He nodded to he, and she turned back to me.

"We leave for Greece tonight."