Alternate Existence

She was just sixteen. She never wanted this. She never wanted any of it. She didn't want to be an agent. She didn't want to even learn to fight. And most of all, she didn't want to learn her mother was a foreign spy.

Chapter 6: That Cold Circle

The next day, Sydney was glad to realize she didn't have to go in to work with Agent Denosivich. She called up Jessie, and they talked for hours, like they used to do. Sydney was so happy to see that the KGB hadn't taken her whole life away that she almost didn't even mind when Jessie brought up the "karate" classes.

"I just don't know why you keep at this fighting thing. You don't have to do this just because your mom wants you to. It just doesn't work that way. I think there's even something in the Constitution somewhere. You're an American; you've got rights," Jessie proclaimed in her usual exuberant manner.

"I know, Jessie. I know," Sydney said despondently. "I just don't see any way around it. I just have to do it."

Sydney never gave Jessie's speech a second thought. Too bad Khasinau's goons did.

"…You're an American! You've got rights!" Jessie's tinny voice sounded from a tape player on Khasinau's desk barely ten minutes after the words had been spoken.

As the tape fell off into silence, a surly man in his mid-forties stepped forward and pressed STOP.

Security sector believes this girl, Jessica Marie Presley, had been the recipient of leaked information," the man said. "Although we can't be sure. Angelina Derevko is one lucky girl; she keeps escaping, by pure strokes of luck, our tails and our wiretaps. She could have called Presley any one of the times we've lost feed."

Khasinau silently considered his options and the risks, staring at his department head's face as he did so. Finally, he nodded once.

"She'll have to be taken care of, Gagarin."

Sydney emerged from the city bus two blocks from her apartment and jogged the rest of the way, hoping to clear her head. She'd been training on three weeks, and Agent Denosivich wanted her to match against Anna Espinosa. She was freaking out. She was seriously freaking out.

I don't care what he says, she thought hysterically. I can't do this. I can't…I can't…

she thought hysterically.

Yet, thirty minutes later, Sydney found herself in the elevator on her way to the basement. A strange calm came over her somewhere along the way, and she'd all but forgotten the panic attack earlier.

Denosivich and Espinosa were already there in the training room when Sydney walked in. she made a vague excuse about school and saw Anna smirk.

"This is my competition?" Anna cracked, crossing her arms.

Denosivich frowned, but said nothing. He'd apparently dubbed the effort futile.

"Look, here's the rules," he said instead. "No holds barred, but don't kick, hit, or otherwise attack anyone when they're down. Follow my orders when I give them, or I jump in." Denosivich gave them each a warning look. "And you do not want me to have to break it up."

Anna snarled her nose at Denosivich, and Sydney immediately decided she didn't like this girl. Denosivich had spoken highly of Anna's ability, but not of her character, Sydney realized.

"Fine," Sydney responded when it became obvious Denosivich waited for an answer, all her attention focused entirely on Anna now.

"Anna?" Denosivich prompted.

"Fine," she finally said.

Denosivich stepped back, and Sydney and Anna started circling each other, their eyes locked and appraising. Time slowed to a crawl, and every move became significant.

Then Anna rushed in, low and hard and fully arrogant. Sydney was caught off guard, mid-step, and she and Anna hit the floor. Anna fought mean, and almost downright dirty.

Sydney's code of ethics lasted only a few moments and two considerable blows to the stomach. May be that was what Denosivich had planned all along. Sydney fought like the hellcat Denosivich had called her. Anna pinned her. She got loose. She pinned Anna. Anna kicked and bucked her way out of it. They circled, struggled, wrestled, kick, swung, punched, elbowed, anything that gave the other a moment of pause.

Suddenly, Anna's hand connected with Sydney's head and the girl's image swan before her eyes. The next thing Sydney knew she was flat on the floor, barely able to move. Anna's eyes glared down at her triumphantly, and her hands rested close enough to Sydney's neck to slightly hinder breathing.

Something in Sydney snapped; if anyone had asked, Sydney would have sworn she felt it. This was no longer a friendly match. Never had been. This was a fight for survival, for superiority.

Using all of her strength, Sydney bucked to loosen Anna's grip on her, then she swung her leg up before Anna could recover. Her foot caught Anna in the side of the head.

For one brief moment, the triumph in Anna's eyes slipped into hatred, and then she slumped to the floor.

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God!" Sydney gasped, shooting to her feet despite the fact that her head was still spinning. "Is she okay?!?"

Denosivich just chuckled.

"She's fine. Or will be when she wakes up." His bright eyes danced, and Sydney realized that he really hated her. "Wow, but she's going to hate you. You did worse than win, Lina. You severely bruised her pride!"

Sydney looked confused, then she smiled, too. Not because she's knocked Anna out, that part still made her a little sick. It was the rush, the thrill, the excitement. For the first time since Laura Bristow had told her daughter she was another person, she felt like she could be Lina Derevko. She could be a kick-ass spy like everybody said Irina Derevko was.

Sydney Bristow could be Lina Derevko.

Even as Sydney was rejoicing in her newly discovered power, her best friend was loosing everything.

Jessie was home alone, her parents having gone to a dinner party at her dad's office. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail that bounced gaily as she settled onto her flower covered bedspread, her homework and three text books scattered around her. She took a purple ink pen out of her book bag and happened to turn her head toward her doorway.

A man stood there, a gun held down to his side.

Fear contorted her lovely face, and a scream ripped from her throat, only to be muffled by a rough hand. Frantic, Jessie bit down hard.

A rough curse was spit in her ear, followed by the cold press of a gun against her temple. Even amidst all of her sophisticated New York airs, the sensation paralyzed her. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see the white walls any more. She didn't care that her struggle ripped and tore pages from her books and mussed her perfect bed. She could only feel that cold circle on her temple. She felt nothing, she saw nothing, she heard nothing but that gun.

When the man clicked the safety off of the gun and the hammer slid back, Jessica Presley was sure her eardrums would burst.

And then it was over, and red mingled with the bright colors, and she knew nothing.

Please don't shoot me! Remember, I didn't kill Jeffrey or Denosivich! That's all you asked of me!