"That's it?" Sydney asked, amazed.
"That's it," Sloane affirmed.
She raised an eyebrow. Does the CIA know it's really that easy to break in?
"Mr. Vaughn was very helpful in giving us any information we desired," Sark informed her, sensing her confusion.
She stared at him, eyes wide.
"As well as planning most of this," Sloane added dryly. "But I understand that's a typical role for him?"
No, no, no. Sydney swallowed hard, absolutely terrified. For Vaughn to willingly help their captors so dramatically could only mean…
"Relax, Agent Bristow," Sloane said, amused. "You both have been very well behaved, I must say, and I have indeed kept up my end of the bargain. Just like you, he has not been harmed in any way."
Sydney shook her head, trembling with rage and fear. "You're lying. Vaughn would never…"
"He seems to have befriended Mr. Caplan," Sark interjected, his tone apathetic. "For whatever reason, he chose for us to spare the mathematician."
"You hid behind a civilian," Sydney realized, shaking now from relief. He's okay. "You forced him to help you by threatening Caplan's life."
"In this instance, it seemed necessary," Sloane answered, tone unruffled. "Are you ready to begin?"
"Yes," she replied shortly. "When I see Vaughn."
"That was not part of the arrangement, Ms. Bristow."
"Then add it."
Michael Vaughn was bored.
Currently, he sat all by himself at the long table. The German guard watched him stonily from inside the doorway, an automatic rifle in his grip. Well. All he can say is no.
"Sind sie, während gebohrt, während ich bin?" Vaughn asked. ("Are you as bored as I am?")
The guard straightened, but made no reply.
"Angegangen. Sie sagten nicht uns können nicht sprechen. Mein name ist Michael, was ist ihr?" he tried again. ("Come on. They didn't say we couldn't talk. My name is Michael, what's yours?")
The guard responded by cocking his gun.
He probably said no there. With a sigh, Vaughn fell silent.
Seconds, minutes, hours, or possibly days later, loud noises outside his current cell startled him out of his bored doze. The guard snapped to attention as well, and Vaughn stiffened helplessly when the man crossed the room to aim the rifle at the back of his head. Before leaving, Sark had informed Ricardo that the spy's death was more preferable than his return to freedom.
The door opened and the younger blonde man sauntered in. "Frieden," he ordered the guard, who stepped back promptly. ("Peace.")
Sloane also appeared then, guiding a blindfolded visitor.
"Sydney!" Vaughn breathed, relief coursing through him.
She jerked away from Sloane at the sound of Vaughn's voice, waiting impatiently for someone to undo the cords holding her hands behind her back. The blindfold she removed herself, eyes scanning the room with raw desperation, until she saw him sitting in a chair off to her left.
"You have 2 minutes," Sark informed them. "Do not touch his restraints, Agent Bristow."
And then they all left, including the guard. Sydney turned eagerly.
"Hi," he said, his tone somewhat sheepish.
"Vaughn," Sydney choked, rushing forward to kiss him. "Are you…"
"I'm fine," he soothed. "Bored."
She laughed at that, sitting unashamedly in his lap and resting her head against his shoulder.
"Is Caplan-" he started.
"He's okay," she replied. "I could hear him asking who I was when they brought me in."
Vaughn sagged in the chair, obviously relieved.
"Syd," he said quietly.
"What?"
He waited until she turned to face him.
"I don't want to see you again."
"What?"
"Here," he amended quickly. "I don't want to see you again here. When they send you on their ridiculous assignment, I want you to escape."
Sydney shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "I can't do that. They would kill you!"
"Probably," he allowed. "But Syd, do you honestly think they'll let me go anyway?"
"But-"
"You know I'm right."
She stared at him. "That's why you helped them so much. You planned for me to get caught."
He rewarded her with an angelic smile. "When they told me they wouldn't allow you any involvement at all in your mission specs, I took the liberty of planning for every available opportunity. When you leave, you will be ordered to obey every step I gave them."
"And if during those steps I happen to get caught…"
He chuckled. "They couldn't claim you weren't heeding instructions. And since you don't know when you'll be caught, your surprise will be genuine."
"But, Vaughn… they'll take it out on you!"
He responded by kissing her. The door to the room opened.
"I regret that's all the time we can spare, Agent Bristow. The plane is waiting."
"Spain," she whispered in his ear, stalling. "Saria."
That explains why the guard wouldn't reply to my German.
"Good luck," he said calmly, giving no indication she'd spoken.
"Thanks," she whispered, eyes welling up with tears despite herself. This could be the last time I see him…
He inclined his head in farewell, inwardly cursing wildly at his restraints. If she did what he wanted, he would probably never see her again, and he couldn't even hold her…
"Ms. Bristow? We are willing to keep you alert on your trip, but we have syringes available if necessary."
She nodded, kissing him one last time. "See you soon," she whispered, stepping towards the door.
Vaughn only smiled sadly. "Je t'aime, Sydney Bristow. Toujours." ("I love you, Sydney Bristow. Always.")
And then, blinking back tears that would prematurely give away his sacrifice, she turned and left the room.