She was furious. Frighteningly so.
Trapped in a completely soundproofed room, restrained firmly, and completely cut off from the rest of the world would break most people, she knew.
It merely made Sydney Bristow angry.
Very, very, very angry.
For the thousandth time she tugged wildly at her bindings, eyes flying everywhere around the nondescript room in an effort to find something, anything, that would help her.
But she found nothing. And even if she could somehow struggle free from the straps, the room she was in could only be opened from the outside.
Exasperated, she stopped fighting for a moment, having used up all her energy in her rage. Will would say I'm having temper tantrums, she thought dryly.
She closed her eyes, trying to find the methodical state of mind Vaughn sank into so effortlessly whenever he found himself in any sort of trouble. The way he could simply detach himself from whatever the situation was and just analyze it… it was an ability she had always envied, and she came from a family highly trained in controlling emotion.
Vaughn.
She swallowed hard. How was he? What was he thinking? What was he doing? Was he in pain, eating, sleeping, escaping, dying? She simply didn't know.
She renewed her efforts to break free then. For him.
They must've drugged him again.
Vaughn looked around, somewhat bewildered by his change in surroundings but automatically absorbing as much information as he could. He sat at the head of a long glass table, wrists secured with long chains to the armrests of his metal chair and ankles manacled to the posts of the table. He'd been cleaned up and was once again wearing the blue silk shirt he'd worn over his t-shirt that fateful day.
Neil Caplan was nowhere to be found, though the same guard watched him from the doorway of the room.
Vaughn was just beginning to wonder if the guard would answer any of his questions when the door opened and Sloane and Sark strolled in.
"Bonne journée, Monsieur Vaughn," Sloane said cheerfully. ("Good day, Mr. Vaughn.")
"Depuis vous ledit jour, il doit égaliser. Bonsoir à vous," he replied dryly. ("Since you said day, it must be evening. Good evening to you.")
Sloane chuckled, pulling up a chair at the table.
"Where's Sydney?" Vaughn demanded.
"Ah, young love. Sydney is catching up on some much-needed rest. The natural way, I assure you."
Sark scowled into the glass. Noticing, Vaughn barely managed to hide his smirk.
"Great. Mind if I ask what the hell is going on?"
"Such inelegance," Sloane sighed. "I'm going to be direct, Agent Vaughn. We need your help. The help of an agent, not a hostage, which is why we decided to clean you up a little."
Vaughn stared at him, trying to determine if Sloane was being sarcastic or serious.
"We have an assignment for Sydney," Sark cut in impatiently. Sloane seemed to enjoy his mind games, but he preferred more direct methods. "We have ordered her to break into the joint task force facility and retrieve her mother. We need you to help us plan that out. She has already agreed to this task, for your sake."
He should be livid, Vaughn realized, at being used in such a way. But their assignment for Syd was so ludicrous….
Before he could stop himself, he busted out laughing.
Sloane waited patiently for Agent Vaughn to recover while Sark tapped his fingers on the glass and tried to resist the temptation to draw his gun and just shoot him.
"You're serious," the spy said incredulously when he'd stopped laughing.
"Dead serious," Sark said irritably.
"You want Syd to break into an office that would hold open doors for her, and kidnap a woman that would probably be delighted to leave the cell on her own?" Vaughn's tone was a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Sark bristled, anger sparking at the man's insolence.
"Have you forgotten your current state of affairs, Mr. Vaughn?" he snapped.
"Yes," Sloane said simply. "Can we count on your help with such a request?"
Vaughn folded his hands on the table, inwardly relishing the ability to move around that much, and leaned back in his chair, the chains rattling lightly as he did so. "I'm not sure what you'd want from me," he said honestly. "Syd knows the building just as well as I do."
"Sydney is relatively new to the CIA," Sloane replied. "And Agent Vaughn, you are of high enough rank to know that CIA buildings are not exactly standard. Where there is an obvious door, there are ten hidden."
Vaughn smiled faintly, but said nothing.
"Furthermore," Sloane continued, his tone piercing, "we cannot allow Sydney to be seen, because obviously, that would ruin her use to us."
"To you," Vaughn corrected shortly. "Do stop talking like this has anything to do with me."
"Oh, but it does," Sark reminded, his tone just short of gleeful. In response, Vaughn raised his head in a burning glare that reminded Sloane immediately of his old friend. Taken him under your wing, Jack?
"So," he finished. "We need your help to get her in and get them out, undetected. Must we be unpleasant, or will you agree based on this mere request?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Jack, listen-"
"Mr. Tippin, I appreciate all your help. We appreciate all your help. But you are not an agent! For me to agree to let you come with us when we find out where they are risks all of our lives, including Sydney's!"
That gave Will pause.
"Jack, let me," Irina said softly.
They stood in Vaughn's apartment, having decided that the sight of Sydney's dead mother would be slightly difficult to explain to Francie.
"I know you want to help your friends," she said to him, while he marveled at her resemblance to her daughter. Or is that the other way around? "And Mr. Tippin, you are. By gathering information for us, you are playing an essential role."
"Look," Will sighed. "I get that when compared to all of you, I'm like a kid playing in a sandbox that's too big. But I was a reporter, remember? I don't run scared. I'm not asking to go and be point guy, but I want to help."
"Fine," Weiss said.
Dixon, Irina and Jack whirled.
"I'm glad you understand," Will said, relieved.
"Wait just a minute!" Jack said sharply.
"I didn't say you could come with us," Weiss replied evenly. "But there is a way you could help that doesn't involve books."
Will waited. Weiss reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a picture.
"This is Elsa Caplan," he said quietly. "Her husband, Neil, was kidnapped a month or so ago by Sark. She and her son Aaron were also taken as hostages, but Sydney and Mike saved them before being captured themselves."
"Okay," Will said slowly.
"They're here in L.A.," Weiss said quietly. "And understandably, freaked out by everything government. Wherever Neil is being held, so are Mike and Sydney. I think you'd be perfect to talk to her and get whatever information you can. You're not a suit guy; she'd be more relaxed with you. What do you say?"
Will didn't hesitate.
"What's her phone number? I'll call her now and set up a meeting time."
Review Responses
Ilovemypenguin: No, no! The Evil Guys did! Not the angelic author! See my plug two chapters back for exclusive HQ MV pics. ;)
Anonymousthinker: Ahem, I daresay I go first. :P I have two internet classes that actually take up more time than my normal courses. Yuck. :( Good luck to you! And this one had even more VaughnFrench, just for you. ;)
UKHoneyB: LOL! You know, that's twice now people have accused me of the dreaded cliffhanger, but I honestly didn't think it was one! Note to self: whenever Vaughn sleeps, readers say it's a cliffhanger. ;) And geez, I know! Jack, Dixon and Weiss are always such sticklers for the rules and following protocol! :snickers:
Kay10197: hehe, your short 'n sweet reviews are so cute. And whew! I was so worried about the languages! I was convinced that I had horribly butchered them, lol. Thanks for tellin' me I wasn't too off! (Either that, or thanks for lying! LOL)
Nattie700: LOL! I'm sensing some pent-up rage… ;) No, no, s'okay! I enjoy your blogs aka reviews! ;) What happened at the comp?? I was in marching band in HS, too. I fell at state and tore my rotator cuff. (But we took third, so that's all that matters! lol)
Kittyfantastico: :0 SEPTEMBER? Shaddup and stop yer braggin'. :P Is too fair!
Reverie: I confess, Sark's little "you mean we're not letting him go?" moment was inspired by the part where he says that he trusts Caplan's word in the real ep. He's cruel and evil yes, but he has his moments of innocence. I so adore that character's complexity. (As long as S/S is merely a not-realized fantasy by a tiny minority of fans). ;)
Andi Horton: Woohoo! Welcome back! I'm always worried that I screwed up or something when past reviewers vanish. lol. And if it helps, you can do Author Alerts with my account name, since I'm an enhanced member. ;)
Winking Tiger: Yay, new reviewer! Thanks for dropping a word. :)
Jennycraig10: Thanks. :D And don't worry, it ain't over 'til it says Epilogue. ;)
Raina: Why yes, they will. ;)
Arwen Vaughn: Whoa! Sounds like you've got a terrible cold! Here, have a tissue. ;)
LuvinVartan4Eva: :gushes: I really like your review! lol