Chapter 11: Proxies and Firewalls

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine. I won't try to steal it. So don't sue me.

Vaughn slipped in the door silently and, hopefully, without Kelly's knowledge. He sat Indian style in front of Sydney's cot, then reached out and pulled the blanket up.

What he saw both broke his heart and gave him hope. Kelly lie on her back, her mouth clamped shut, her eyes squeezed closed, and her little hands fisted at her sides. She even seemed to be holding her breath in a furious attempt not to cry.

"Kelly?" he said softly, and as gently he could manage.

Kelly started, her eyes opening wide. She turned and sat up so fast she cracked her head on the underside of the cot. She muffled a cry and bit her lip, but her eyes stayed wide open to stare at Vaughn, heedless of the tears that streaked down her face.

Vaughn didn't move for fear of scaring her further.

"I'm sorry Kelly. That was my fault. Come on out here, let me see. Does it hurt?" Vaughn held out a hand, but Kelly didn't move. He left it there anyway. He was determined that, having scared and upset her, he was going to regain her trust if it killed him.

"Kelly, please, baby," he continued. "I know that must have hurt. Let me see. I just want to make sure you're okay. I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry I scared you."

"You didn't scare me," Kelly insisted, but she cowered away from his hand. "I'm not scared."

"I know you are," Vaughn accused lightly. "I don't want to scare you. Can you tell me what I'm doing to scare you now?"

Kelly remained quiet for a moment, then burst out, "You work with him! You said you'd protect me, but you let him take me away! You lied! You work for him, just like all the others!" Her voice rose with each syllable, and by the time she finished her voice was a terrified shriek.

"Kelly," Vaughn said firmly, rising onto his knees to reach out and pull Kelly by the shoulders out from under the cot. "Kelly, I do not work for him. I hate him. And so do you," he realized. "You hate him, and you hate me because you think I work for him."

Kelly sobbed out of desperation as Vaughn put her on the cot and kneeled in front of her so they were on eye level.

"Kelly, baby, I'm not going to hurt you," Vaughn pleaded. "What do I have to do to make you believe me?"

"Leave me alone!" Kelly sobbed. "Just leave me alone!"

"Kelly," Vaughn said, hurt even though he fully understood that Kelly was scared to death. "I can't do that. I want us to be friends. Besides, you shouldn't be alone. You're safer if I'm with you."

"You'll let him get me again. You'll tell him I was bad." But she was wavering, doubting her own convictions.

"I don't want to ever see him again," Vaughn assured her. "And I don't think you've been bad at all."

"But I..."

"You've done nothing wrong, Kelly." Vaughn was careful not to call Sark by name. "He was the one who was bad. You belong here, with me and Sydney. We'll take care of you, Kelly."

Kelly smiled shyly, then hesitantly put her arms around his neck.

Dixon stormed the cell ward, intent on dragging Kelly off to begin tests to determine her mother immediately. Agent Quentin, however, shot into the hall to stop him.

"Director Dixon!" Quentin yelled. "I hate to bother you, but I don't think you should go down there now."

"Why not?" Dixon demanded furiously.

"Because the kid was freaking out, and Agent Vaughn's still trying to calm her down."

Dixon relented and followed Quentin back into the security office to watch the monitors. Quentin had the sound turned up so he could hear what Vaughn was saying to the kid.

"You belong here, with me and Sydney. We'll take care of you," the grainy sound of Vaughn's voice came through the speakers.

Dixon fumed. That sounded entirely too much like Vaughn knew something he didn't. And Dixon did not like to be kept in the dark. Deciding Vaughn had done enough, Dixon marched down the hall and instead of blasting in the door when he heard the lock release, he simply glared through the glass until Vaughn looked around to meet his gaze. It only took a Vaughn as moment to decide he didn't want to have whatever discussion he and Dixon were about to have in Kelly's presence. He spoke softly to Kelly and left her to her own devices, promising he'd be right back.

"My office," Dixon said tightly when Vaughn walked out.

"What is this about?" Vaughn asked warily.

"You'll know soon enough," Dixon replied cryptically. He figured that if Vaughn had done something he should know about, then he deserved to sweat it a little while.

As they entered Dixon's office, he ordered Vaughn to sit, and Vaughn returned that he'd rather stand, refusing to give an inch until he knew what was going on.

"I happened across a piece of intel that I think you may find interesting, Agent Vaughn," Dixon began, keeping his face unreadable. "But first, you made a statement that I found particularly intriguing." Here he paused, to gauge Vaughn's reaction.

"When did I make this alleged statement?" Vaughn asked coolly, having determined Dixon was accusing him somehow, and finding it unlike Dixon to not come right out and ask him.

"Only minutes ago."

"When I was talking to Kelly?" Vaughn asked, confused. He only knew he'd been so anxious to get Kelly to trust him again that he didn't remember half of what he said, but he was pretty sure nothing he'd said should have aroused this kind of suspicion.

"Precisely. What did you mean by saying Kelly belongs with you and Sydney, Agent Vaughn?" Dixon demanded.

Vaughn remained baffled for a few more moments, then understanding dawned.

"You've heard from Sydney, then." He dropped into the leather chair in front of Dixon's desk with a mildly defeated air.

"I have." Dixon waited for Vaughn to explain himself. One always got a more complete confession that way.

"Okay. I knew before Sydney and Harte left, but I didn't have a chance to tell Syd. How do you tell someone something like that? That the Rambaldi artifact she and I were sent to retrieve was her daughter, for God's sakes." Vaughn glared at Dixon. "How did she find out?"

Dixon sighed. He should ask how Vaughn had known, but he wasn't sure he'd want to know. After all, he trusted Vaughn. He could let one of his best agents have his secrets, even if he had been ready to lynch him a few minutes ago.

"It was in the records Syd and Agent Harte recovered. Syd found it, but she kept it from Harte. He doesn't know. I was going to have tests run. Still will, for appearances, I guess."

Vaughn was quiet for a moment.

"I had every intention of telling Sydney what I found out," Vaughn finally asserted, standing. "I didn't want her to find out this way."

Dixon smirked, and Vaughn knew he'd been boxed in.

"You can still tell her," he said. "You can tell her the tests came back positive, and about your involvement in them."

Vaughn nodded resignedly and left. He had to tell her anyway, but having his marching orders wasn't setting well.

Sark trusted her. Believed she was still crazed with the quest for anything Rambaldi.

That was the important thing. He had to believe her hunger for all things Rambaldi still overpowered all else, all pre-existing loyalties. That was the only way she could help the only people she loved.

She had spent months infiltrating what had been ,at the time, no more that Sark's merry little gang of Rambaldi treasure hunters. She'd worked her way up. All that time, just to get close to Sark. Through cloak and dagger, she'd even managed to wrangle a few meetings with his mysterious informant.

That Sark believed the man--and Irina was sure it was a man--with so little proof had shocked her. But Sark had become just the tiniest bit foolhardy. Not enough to get him caught, but enough to get him screwed over a few times.

She had, through those meetings she'd conducted by herself, began to trace the man that was culminating a threat to her first daughter. No one would hurt her again, not while Irina could stop it.

She did watch out for Nadia, too, but the last she'd been able to find of Nadia she and Sloane had been happily chasing some elusive Rambaldi artifact, not doing much damage or putting herself in much danger. Irina didn't even remember what they'd been after.

One of her first things that struck her about Sark's source was that she was sure she'd contacted him before. Human voices had certain patterns that a well-trained agent remembered subconsciously, that even machine-altered sounds can't hide. Irina was sure she knew not only his voice, but the personality behind it.

Oh, he was good. He'd taken every precaution, hidden behind layers and layers of proxies and firewalls and bouncing his signal off of so many satellites that she was sure he must have given himself a migraine just setting it all up. But she was close now. Just one more contact, she believed, and she'd be able to get a location, or a name, or something that would point her to the source of the problem.

Okay, ya'll happy now? Someone gave me the idea for this early on, and I couldn't resist. Irina taking out the jackass that's making Sydney miserable (especially since it's Jack!) is just too good!