His luck was actually improving, Vaughn realized. His concussion was now fully gone and the horrid blindfold had even been removed. Granted, he was now tied to what felt like a very uncomfortable chair, but still. He could see!
With that in mind, he forced his eyes open, blinking back automatic tears as his eyes were exposed to a ridiculously bright room. Where am I?
"Finally! It's about time you woke up."
Irritated, he blinked rapidly. Who is that? It wasn't Sark or Sloane, and he doubted a random guard would strike up a conversation with a CIA operative. His vision finally cleared and he froze, astonished. Sitting at a desk in front of him, also restrained, sat a haggard man a few years younger than Jack Bristow; a man he recognized immediately from mission briefings.
"I'd offer you a hand to shake, but we both seem to be at a disadvantage," the man said. "Neil Caplan. You're Michael Vaughn. And I'm very sorry to be so abrupt, but I have a lot of questions for you."
He shifted as much as he could on the hard chair, acutely aware of the armed guard standing a few feet behind them. "Shoot."
"My family?" The man looked as though as he was fighting tears.
Silently, Vaughn cursed himself. If he'd been Caplan, he would've thrown stuff at him until he woke up, and then would've wanted nothing more than the first thing he said to be about his wife and son.
"Your family's fine," he replied. Caplan sagged in his chair, body shaking in relief. "Syd… my partner and I found them in Switzerland. They're back in L.A. by now and are probably under 24-hour surveillance. They're safe."
"Thank you," Caplan choked. He raised a hand to wipe his eyes and Vaughn couldn't help but envy him that freedom. They fell silent for a moment while Caplan recovered, and Vaughn pictured and forcibly dismissed all the terrible situations Sydney was possibly experiencing. You're going to make yourself crazy if you keep that up, he told himself. Strange. His inner voice sounded like Weiss.
"You said 'Syd'," Caplan said suddenly into the silence. "Do you mean Sydney?"
Vaughn stiffened. "Yes," he replied, straightening in his chair. "Is she here?" He scanned the room as best he could. The guard by the door glared at them, but made no move to end their conversation.
"No. I mean, I don't think so," Caplan replied, his voice compassionate. He worries about her like I worried about Elsa and Aaron. "Sloane told me about her. He, uh, said… you know. Standard threat."
Vaughn nodded wordlessly, his eyes hardening.
Another long silence. Feeling the guard's pointed glare, Caplan reluctantly returned to work, though news of his family's safety had significantly lessened his cooperation level. Vaughn watched him for a time, wondering what on earth he was doing. And for that matter… "Where are we?" he blurted.
"Switzerland," Caplan replied, still writing. "At least that's what I've been told."
Vaughn frowned. The last hazy effects from the concussion and the drugs had left his mind and he was finally able to think clearly. The guard on the jet had spoken German, he distinctly remembered that, and German was one of the prominent languages of Switzerland. But he'd been captured in that country. If they were still there, a flight wouldn't have been necessary. Sloane and Sark could have simply used the truck. They're trying to throw us off. We could even be back in the States right now.
"What are you, kid?"
Deliberately, Vaughn shook himself from his thoughts. Wherever he was, an escape attempt was out of the question until he knew Sydney was free. And safe. "What do you mean?"
"NSA?"
"Huh?" National Security Agency? Not exactly the first organization that would come to my mind, but I guess I'm biased. "Uh, no. CIA. Senior Operations Officer Vaughn, at your service. Call me Michael." He inclined his head in a gallant bow, amused in spite of himself.
Caplan hid a grin, his previously low spirits genuinely raised by his fellow captive's undeniable youth. "Not that I don't believe you, Michael, but you're quite young for the senior level."
Vaughn raised an eyebrow, instincts tingling. Odd thing for a civilian to say. "Seems to be the general consensus," he replied, flashing a smile.
The guard cleared his throat sharply, readjusting his grip on the automatic rifle he held. Mr. Sloane had instructed him to allow the two prisoners to converse without restriction when he had brought the agent here, but the guard still found permitting such freedom tiresome. Caplan scowled, but once again began scanning the papers, carefully taking notes and calculating measurements.
"What are you doing?" Vaughn asked curiously. He tried to lean forward for a better look but was unable to do so.
"Something straight out of a science fiction movie," Caplan muttered. "This guy, Rambaldi, he was supposedly some kind of prophet."
Rambaldi. Vaughn stiffened, eyes widening.
"They want to me to put this thing together that he designed," an oblivious Caplan continued to explain, holding up a page of notes. "I don't know what it is, but it requires very specific calculations."
"A weapon, right?" Vaughn's tone was so intent that even the guard straightened at the sound.
"I don't know," Caplan stammered, bewildered by Michael's sudden mood change. "This guy Rambaldi… he's for real?"
Vaughn merely stared at him.
Review Responses
Ilovemypenguin: The fantabulous Alias-Media.com has both a preview clip from E! News and screenshots. Go drool your heart out! lol
Kay10197: But of course! lol
Jennycraig10: Awww… :gushes: No FP.net stories, although I do have a few other Alias fanfics posted here on FF. Just go peek in my profile!
Kayla: LOL! Great review! Ya made me laugh.
Wannabannana: Hmmm? Wha? Did you ask a question? :whistles:
Arwen Vaughn: Thank you! But be nice to your computer! The stupid losers that write worms for fun are making it work overtime! lol
Britt: Poor Syd! ;)
Kittyfantastico: I agree. Here they had this great actor doing a guest stint, but they didn't bother utilizing all his talents. Any no-name newbie coulda played that role, instead of an established one like Slater. Woulda saved money, too. lol
Nattie700: LMAO! You're meaner than Sloane and Sark combined right now! The kilt must be stealing all your oxygen or something.
UKHoneyB: Thank you! And a cliffhanger? What's that? ;)
K4e: 'Long nice little chapter'? Long and little combined? :smiles and nods: ;) lol
Maxwell: Oh no! Get up! Arthritis in knees is bad! Leavin', ay? Well no worries on updates, the reviewers seem to like daily updates and as long as y'all do, I'll gladly post new chapters! I also have a Yahoo group that helps you access the FF chapters before the site itself shows them… link's in my profile.
Chinkybrowneyes: I'm a hopeless J/I shipper, mainly because of the awesome talents that are Victor and Lena.