Blood Binds – But Betrayal Blinds
SIX – A Stab In The Dark
Rating: PG-13 (Graphic Violent Description)
Setting: LA, Unknown Location in Eastern Europe
Characters: Marshall Flinkman, Carrie Bowman, Mitchell Flinkman, Will Tippin, Sydney Bristow, Simon Walker, McKenas Cole, Elle Williams (Maggie Gyllenhaal), mentioned Arvin Sloane
Length: 3,896 Words
Marshall smiles at Carrie, then turns back to Mitchell who he holds in his arms, a bottle in the child's mouth. He's only seven weeks old, and Carrie actually isn't back to work, like it would seem. She's only there today because they needed her to meet about a report she did on the group of five, working at IVAX. On occasion, however, she does come in for 2 or 3 hours, leaving Mitchell at the day care. Marshall figures it's the fact that she, like him, is completely and utterly addicted to her work. The CIA does that, sucking a person in.Before Mitchell was born, Marshall had no idea that the CIA had a day care with in its building. But it doesn't surprise him at all. Everyone has babies, even CIA agents. Which has always been a funny thought, because Marshall could never imagine seeing an operative running around a warehouse in Minsk at 6 and a half months of pregnancy. But he can see Sydney doing it... which is weird in its self.
Carrie pulls her hair up into a ponytail, watching the way her husband and son interact. It's not really interaction, as much as it is a primitive exchange. Mitchell needs food and Marshall has food. She watches as Marshall pulls the bottle away and places it on the table, before he holds the baby to his shoulder, lightly tapping his back. She laughs at Marshall's face as the baby spits milk down his back.
"That's what this is for." Carrie states, handing him the towel that is draped over her shoulder. Marshall gives her a pleading look, and she quickly reaches over, wiping most of the milk and saliva off of her husband's back.
"That is really gross." They both turn to see Will Tippin standing a few feet away from them, just inside the doorway of Marshall's office. He kind of cringes, watching Mitchell's face. And he smiles at the baby, taking a few steps forward into the space the small family is sharing. He reaches forward, letting his finger touch the little boy's chin.
Carrie shakes her head, folding and unfolding the small towel. "Would you like to change his diaper?" She questions Will, who shakes his head, smiling.
"Uh, that's okay." Will says, reaching forward and picking up the baby, as Marshall is allowing him to do. "You'd think Marshall would be potty trained by now." He states, holding the child inches from his face. And instantly his voice changes from it's natural tone, to a cooing sound. "Hello, Mitchell!" He makes faces at the child, and lets his lips vibrate as he blows air on to the baby's chubby cheeks; a fit of giggles from the child immediately follows.
Carrie stands, laughing at Will's subtle joke on Marshall, and walks over to the man who is now holding her child. Both Will and Carrie turn as they hear Marshall finally laughing, getting the joke. "I get it, pretty clever, Mr. Tippin." Marshall says, causing Will to chuckle. "So, um... are you here to steal my wife and baby? Cause, ya know, I don't think, I can let you do that." Marshall says as he too stands. He walks over and places his hand on Carrie's back. And she sighs, looking at Will expectantly.
"Well, are you?" She questions as well. "Cause I wouldn't mind." She jokes. And Marshall laughs, before she turns and kisses him swiftly on the lips. Will looks up from Mitchell's face.
"No." He says, and quickly hands the child back to Carrie, who graciously accepts him. "I'm here to see if you have that tape ready, Marshall." Will questions. And Marshall immediately begins nodding, rushing over and grabbing his suit jacket.
He slips it on, before leaning in and kissing Carrie on the lips, followed by kissing Mitchell's head. He leans toward Will for a moment. "I can... ya know, kiss you on the cheek too... if you're feeling left out." He says, and Will laughs, shaking his head vigorously.
"Alright Marshall." Carrie turns, walking over and placing the infant in his black stroller - otherwise known as the safest stroller on the planet. Marshall made sure that every safety precaution was taken, as she would expect it.
"Make sure you check the straps on his car seat before you leave." Marshall informs Carrie. And before he has an opportunity to continue with his litany of procedures, Carrie kisses him on the cheek, leaving the room. He turns back to Will, who shrugs. And the two then leave the room, in the direction of Will's office.
Sydney's arms ache - again. She's sitting, now with her arms bound behind her back once more. The pain is immeasurable. Her shoulders, her left arm, her wrists are all in agony, now coupled with the ache coming from her head, especially her eye. She wants to drift away, succumb to the excruciating darkness. She looks to her right, seeing McKenas Cole sitting next to her. He gives her a really toothy grin, before he leans in, kissing the poor girl on her cheek. She cringes, letting her mind wander back to the moments just earlier.
Sydney gripped the handle of the seven-inch Phillips screwdriver tight, in her right hand. The point was in the direction of her inner elbow, while the handle was in her palm - the entire weapon was concealed by the sleeve of her father's suit jacket that appeared to be almost humorous in how over sized it was on her arm. She smiled at Simon, who returned the gesture, only slightly. She then leaned over at him, her head resting on his shoulder. Naturally Simon lifted his right arm and placed it around her shoulders. The feeling was almost comforting in the back seat of the SUV, driving through the middle of Europe. It was the feeling of uneasiness and the sense of being lost that felt the most comforted by his embrace.
She let herself rest next to him but for a moment, constantly aware of the weapon she had gripped in her right hand. She knew already that going after the driver would be futile. All it would be able to do was slow the transport down. Ultimately she is destined to go wherever it is that the men are taking her. And she knew that. So the driver was then out of the running. It was then a matter of vengeance or brutality. But the question was which man was which option. She felt vindictive toward both men, and she wanted to brutally assault someone to create a sense of power. So then it turned into which would be more of an advantage to her.
Who could she defeat on her own? She weighed the options wisely. Both men were strong physically and mentally. However, she figured that through brute force alone, she could defeat McKenas Cole. But she could also seduce Simon Walker much easier. In spite of the fact that Cole probably was more attracted to her, he was also less susceptible to her beauty and advances. She continued to think, weighing her options, until she felt Simon's breathing begin to slow and steady. He was getting tired. He was truly beginning to relax around her.
A grin spread across Sydney's face. She couldn't help being somewhat pleased by the fact that he still felt comfortable around her. She let her breathing slow as well to paint the appearance of comfort. And she took a deep breath, preparing herself. She closed her eyes, in one last moment. And is she was a woman who prayed, surrendered herself to the Lord on a regular basis, she would have done so at that moment.
Sydney instantly pulled the screwdriver from her sleeve, stabbing it into Simon Walker's fleshy thigh. He screamed out in pain, eyes tightly shut. And she elbowed the man, taking an immediate move for the door. The SUV stopped, and she climbed over Simon, digging the screwdriver in even further, the sharp metal scraping against his femur bone. She opened the door, and the moment her bare foot - having kicked her shoes off prior - fell on the ground the began to run from the SUV, through the snow.
McKenas Cole was quicker than she thought he would be running after her as well. He had his gun drawn, and could have made a shot, killing her instantly, but did not. Obviously she's an important negotiation piece for them. The only thought that ran through her mind as she felt her body thrown to the snow was about Cole's speed generally surprising her. The snow stung on her bare skin, biting her legs like little sharp-toothed creatures meant only to hurt. Instantly she was rolled over on her back and Cole's fist connected heavy and hard with her left eye. In that moment she let the world slip away, giving in. She woke up, what felt like days later, but truly was only probably twenty minutes, in the back seat of the SUV, still. Her whole body ached, and her arms were once more bound.
Simon sits up front with something taut around his left leg. She kind of regrets what she did, only because she still has to witness the pain she caused for the man. Cole is talking, carrying on about one of his many missions. On occasion she lets her mind listen to his words - he's talking about Sloane. That's one thing they have in common - a solid disdain and hatred for Arvin Sloane and the recently destroyed SD-6. She thinks that if he had gone in a different direction, made different choices - hadn't been so damn crazy - maybe she could respect him, or work with him in that hatred.
She finds herself watching through the cracked white blinds dressing the window in her office facing the common area shared by herself and her colleagues as her superior enters. She's idle, yet subtly discrete as she lets her brown eyes follow him as he walks into her complete line of vision through her open door. Immediately her eyes divert back to the computer screen, a steady stream of clicking keys filling the space in her office as she pretends to look busy. The words which appear on the open Word Processor, dancing on the flat computer screen, are amusing. She's writing a grocery list, the first thing to come to mind. Eggs, Tampons, Hair Spray, Watch Battery, Jasmine Rice, Frozen Peas, Tissues - square not rectangle box, Tylenol, Glass cleaner, Post-Its, Tooth Paste, Onions...
The knock on her open office door gets Elle's attention immediately, in spite of the fact that her computer never really had it. She looks up to see Will standing in the doorway, a smile draped across his face. His smile is that of a man who would be leaning against the frame, head propped on one arm, and one leg crossed over the other. Instead he stands like that of her superior, as he is. She lets her eyes meet his, and then sits up in her comfortable desk chair as he enters the room with a shorter man whom she recognizes from the events earlier in the day.
"Hey, Elle, this is Marshall Flinkman - you didn't exactly get an introduction earlier - he's got the tapes for you to watch." Will states. And Elle smiles, quickly standing from her desk. She takes a step, slightly tripping in her black heels, then smoothes down the front of her black skirt. She crosses the room and shakes Marshall's hand. And she then stands there for a minute, sniffing the air. Her nose crinkles slightly as she does so, causing her glasses to raise slightly. And Will notices that her hair that was down before, is now pulled back out of her face, a pen sticking out from the moderately neat knot now residing at the back of her head.
"What is that smell?" She asks, eyeing Will. His eyes widen and he shakes his head. Her nose crinkles again, and Will grins just a little. "It smells like my brother's apartment..." She trails for a moment, leaning forward and sniffing at Marshall. "Oh it's you." And immediately her mind begins to race, trying to find a way to dig her out of the hole she's just made. Will watches her waiting for her words as well. "- do you have... little kids?" She questions. Suddenly Marshall's face lights up, as he reaches for his wallet. Will rests his head backward, and she sees as his tongue glides along the backs of his upper row of pristine white teeth. She rolls her lips inward for a second, slightly licking the spot where they meet.
"Yes, I do, um, his name is... Mitchell and he's.. seven weeks, two days and," he checks his watch. "18 hours and 37 minutes old." Elle's face instantly turns into a brilliant smile as she looks at the pictures Marshall shows her. She lets the obligatory female-seeing-a-baby sounds leave her mouth as she sorts through the images. Will slowly backs away from the two, and explores her small, yet oddly spacious office. He lets his eyes peruse the titles in her bookshelf which resides on the wall across from the windows and door, his feet stepping soft, one in front of the other. He turns and watches as she rushes back to her desk, and picks up a picture frame with three separate pictures in it, taking it to Marshall. She glances up at Will who's dangerously close to sitting on the small black couch on the wall facing her desk, perpendicular to the parallels which hold the book shelf and the indoor windows - directly out of an IKEA catalog.
Elle then turns back to Marshall who's awaiting the images she is about to surrender for him to view. "These are my nieces and nephews. My brother has four kids." She states, handing the silver picture frame to Marshall. Will finds his way back over, to where the two stand, crossing the 4-foot span from the couch to the front of the desk. "Gavin is three - almost four. Umm, the twins: Grace and Love are 20 months. And then the baby is Logan, he's only 10 weeks old." Elle finds herself gushing, the role of the proud aunt firmly displayed in her features. And Marshall looks at the portraits of the four children - the twins opting for a photo together. "My brother and his wife's apartment smells exactly like you... dried milk and baby powder." She looks to Will, watching as Marshall hands him the picture frame as well. "I'm sorry, I'm wasting time." She keeps her eyes on Will; a distressed look forming on her face.
"No, Elle, it's alright." Will answers, as he looks up. He hands the picture frame back to her, and she places it in its prior destined spot on her desk. "No, I'm glad you showed me this - otherwise I was going to have to wonder about that." He motions toward yet another silver frame, this one larger and hanging on the wall, next to her diploma's and degrees. Behind the glass is a white piece of paper with red finger paint depicting the portrait of a girl. She turns back to Will, who just raises his eyebrows. She laughs. "Aww, the art of a preschooler. I'd like to think of myself as the Van Gogh of my sand box."
Marshall suddenly moves erratically, pulling a disk from his pocket. Elle takes a step back, surprised. And Will smiles, remembering the first time he ever worked with Marshall. He, of course, had the very same reaction. "I have the tape - It was three actually, umm, one from the surveillance and the other two from both cameras on Jack and Sydney. I made it into one piece of footage, editing all of the images, um together. I'm kind of an aspiring director." Marshall explains. "It's a DVD, do you have a... TV?" He questions. And Elle nods, motioning in the direction of a television monitor mounted in the corner where the wall with the couch meets the wall with the windows. Marshall nods and sits down at Elle's desk. "Is it?" He questions, asking with out words of the DVD player is through the computer. And she nods.
In an instant, Marshall begins typing in key commands with the black jewel case containing the DVD sitting on her desk. Will watches the way Elle kind of stands in the corner by the door, suddenly looking out of place in her own office. He turns to the TV, scratching the back of his head. "Umm, Mr. Tip... Will, can you... turn on the TV?" Marshall suddenly asks. Will glances back at him, smiling, and then reaches upward, taking a step forward. He presses the power button, turning the 22-inch screen on. The computer screen appears on the television and Will smiles, reading it.
"Elle." He states, turning at the waist, looking at her. She hasn't noticed what has been displayed on her television, because she just raises her eyebrows in response. "What's Jasmine Rice? It sounds like an Asian Massage Parlor?" He questions. She stares at him blankly, and suddenly gasps, realizing her list is being projected on the screen. "Good to know the people who are supposed to represent the I in CIA, are doing their jobs to the fullest." Will laughs.
"Are you sure I have the clearance for this?" She asks Will, motioning toward Marshall and implying the video she's about to view. Will nods. "Alright, I'm just checking." Marshall, not having even noticed the exchange, takes the DVD out of its case, ejecting her disk drive. He pulls out a different CD, this one a burned music disc.
He reads the words and then smiles at Elle. "Weezer - I have all of their albums, and I have all of the un-released stuff as well." He states. And she smiles, slowly letting her face turn into a cringe as Will walks over and picks up the CD. She feels like the student in school who has just been scolded for talking, singled out in front of the whole class. Will smiles, putting the CD back on her desk, walking to the couch. He sits down, and scratches the back of his head with his left hand. She walks over into the main area of her office, standing between the desk and the couch. She glances to Will, as they both anticipate the footage to come.
Within a few moments, the screen appears as though Marshall is ready to play the tape. "Now the actual footage of Walker making his demands is only about a minute long - we're just hoping you might give us some insight from what he said." Marshall explains. And both Elle and Will nod simultaneously. Marshall then moves the mouse, and presses the play button, allowing the DVD to start up. Will quickly stands from the couch so her can have a better view of the television. He stands behind Elle, tall enough to look over her shoulder. She watches the footage, gasping slightly as Sydney is held tightly in Simon Walker's grasp.
Simon's words are haunting as he exchanges with Jack. "Good, good." She stares at the footage, noting that Marshall did a good job editing it for a moment, before she listens intently to the man's words. "You will get the CIA to release Rene Persson and Mathias Mohrle. Your daughter will make contact with you concerning their release in... ten hours." And as Jack says the words 'okay', the footage ends. The screen goes black, Elle turns to Will, her lips halfway parted.
"Well..." She trails, looking up at him. "Do you remember how I told... was his name Vaughn?" Will nods. And she smiles. "Remember how I told him they worked for Antonio Plassenegger?" She questions. She doesn't wait for Will to nod in response, pressing her lips together. "That was he." She answers, motioning over her shoulder at the television. Will looks down for a moment, nodding, then back up at her, letting the words sink in.
The SUV is far too cold, Sydney thinks. They must be up to something - preparing for something. It almost feels frigid as they race through the snow covered German countryside. She finds herself wishing for two things, neither of which she can achieve. First she wishes she could decipher, from the vague lights on blacked out windows, where it is they are, or going. She squints, hoping something will just jump out at her. But she doesn't exactly remember German towns having giant Las Vegas-like lights. So no, that can't happen. The other thing she wishes for is sleep. Maybe if she were to be able to pass out, she could dream of... anything other than this. She could dream about eating bad homemade pizza at Weiss's apartment just last week. She could dream about the way Will pretended it was great, being the polite person he is.
She wishes she could dream about the way Vaughn hugged her when he returned from France. It was beautiful; He just ran to her with no reservations and wrapped his arms around her, letting her know he loved her. Of course that was short lived. Of course. Vaughn told her he was going to separate from Lauren, which he didn't. And that's what gets to her.
Simon's cough pulls Sydney's attention from her thoughts. He's sitting with his eyes closed. He can have the peaceful release that slumber brings but she can't? Life is not fair. Cole turns to Sydney, smiling. She looks at him, hesitant. She wants so badly to not be here. The wishes her mind is begging for right now are very vague actually. It is her duty to be here; her job is calling for this. And so she knows she shouldn't actually be wishing she weren't here. But she does. She glances back at Simon. He resents her. She can't imagine why he wouldn't resent her. She stabbed the man. But what she doesn't understand, is why it stings to know that Simon resents her.
She glances out the window again for a bit, thinking that she's starting to recognize lights on the horizon. It is then that she realizes that they're approaching a city, probably their ultimate destination. Chills rush through her body, and she turns to Cole again. His face is stonewalled. She can't ever seem to read him, in spite of how much she'd like to. He smiles at her, with the psychotic grin he saves for special occasions. She watches the way he reaches for and picks up a small box. It's always a box with this man. And he opens it, a syringe resides inside it. "Sorry, pig tails." He whispers. "This is the end of the line." And he pulls the syringe from the velveteen box, with out any warning sticking it into the flesh of her neck.
Sydney's eyes get heavy, and finally, she gives in to the exhaustion that envelopes her mind. Her head slumps forward, and she forgets everything as her eyes close.