Blood Binds – But Betrayal Blinds
ELEVEN – A Deal with the Devil
Rating: PG/PG-13
Setting: LA, Unknown Location in Eastern Europe
Characters: Elle Williams (Maggie Gyllenhaal), Arvin Sloane, Sark, Abs Michaelis (Jessica Alba), Aiden Ivanov (Hugh Dancy or James Franco), Simon Walker, Allison Doren, McKenas Cole, Steph Mariani (Eliza Dushku), Sydney Bristow, Will Tippin, Marcus Dixon, Lauren Reed, Khazari Bomani mentioned Christine Esperanza (MilaJovovich), Jack Bristow, Suit & Glasses,
Length: 5,756 Words
She pulls the monogrammed pen from the file folder on the table, sitting down across from Arvin Sloane, crossing her right leg over her left. And she holds the pen in her hand, eyes tracing the name remembering it as a gift from her younger brother, before she raises an eyebrow in the direction of the man before her. She then holds the pen as though she's about to write, waiting for the man to dictate words for her. "Actually, it would probably be best if I write this." He states, and she eyes him for a moment, weighing the options. She knows that the ball is in his court, because if he tries anything he's taken out of this questioning and the CIA doesn't get the Intel they want anyway. That of course would then slow their rescue of Agent Bristow, and she definitely does not want to be one of the people behind that. And so she sighs, making eye contact.
She mentally makes her decision, before surrendering the black pen and pad of paper to the man. He smiles at her graciously, and even thanks her, though she doesn't know how sincere it is, as he begins to vigorously write the words on the paper. And Elle stands, leaving the table and walking to the two-way mirror. She knows that the two men on the other side are probably discussing Sloane's actions, and so she adjuster her hair for a moment, smiling. A part of her wonders if Will is watching, but she shakes the thoughts, just before she turns to face Sloane again.
She takes a slow deep breath, her eyes surveying the very empty room dressed in shades of gray, before they land back on Arvin Sloane who seems to be in a completely different world as he writes the words. She wonders why he opted to write it himself, letting her mind slip and slide through all the possibilities. She settles on thinking that it might possible be a code. And so she just waits, watching him. "Alright." She hears him speak, looking up at her while she watches him. "Here you go." He seems smug, possibility. And he has that smile that is always spread across his face.
She crosses the room, her arms moving just slightly with every step. She truly is awkward in this environment, but she's trying her best to act as though she's completely comfortable. She smiles as she lifts the paper from the area he left it waiting for her. And her eyes read the words not once or twice - Her eyes reread the statement four or five times before she speaks. "You're kidding, right?" She asks.
His footfalls on the tile floor are the only thing in his ears as they echo off the walls and he walks the long hallway to the room. And it's the same one from before - the room that Abs was in throwing daggers before. He likes walking down this hall, hearing his every footstep, as though his the 'lob-dob' of his heart. The echo and the solidarity pleases him, because he loves knowing that he's the only one in the hallway - he's the only one traveling through this corridor. There's no one around to bother him, because Sark loves his time alone. He reaches that same door at the end of the hall, taking a deep breath before he opens it, slowly.
Just as he has expected, and always expects, Abs is standing, throwing razor sharp daggers at that same black 'X' on the wall. She does this so that anyone who enters the room, has to get through her. He watches as the knives fly past him, going from his left to his right. They make eye contact, and he can see a glare dressed in her features. She's not playful like normal, she's not pretending like she's about to throw a dagger at him, causing him to duck. Instead she just stands, her weight resting on one hip as she waits for him to walk past. She's not going to throw at him, and she's not going to talk to him. And Sark thinks for a moment, watching the look on her face. She's not going to give him the attention he likes. So this is what it's like to be her.
He walks past, not admitting that he feels let down from the lack of exchange. He hears the familiar sound as a blade hits the wall from behind him, lingering in his ears. And a part of him longs for the echoing footsteps from before. He lets his eyes travel around the room, observing those who have opted to spend their time in this room. Seems as though he was the only one not let in on the memo informing them that this was a meeting. He wonders if they've been talking, planning an overthrow. But he knows that Aiden knows better. Aiden is sitting in the corner, reading the same book he's seem him tote around after and before other operations. Allison is sitting at a table, with Simon across from her, playing chess. For some reason Sark is amused. And McKenas sits on the couch he and Abs had been using earlier, the same bottle of champagne now placed on the floor.
"Julian!" He exclaims. And Sark just nods, knowing that the man has probably been bantering back and forth with Abs for the evening. The two don't like each other, at all. He wonders if he's going to have to stop her from throwing one of the knives in Cole's direction. Probably not. "What the hell happened to your jaw?" The words echo in his brain, and he realizes that he probably has a bruise he didn't even know about. Damn Aiden.
Steph watches as the blood continues to pour from Sydney's arm, and wonders if the loss might make the woman pass out. She keeps a really hard look on her face, in spite of the fact that she'd love to smile. "So, Sydney." She lets the words leave her mouth, slowly, as she pulls only slightly on the next stitch. She's already got two out. She can feel as Sydney's arm is tensing up again, and just manages to hold back from ripping it out. "This is where I'd normally ask the question 'Who do you work for?' But obviously I know that." And for a moment, Sydney thinks she sees a smile, just before the woman in the suit rips the next stitch out, causing a quick cry of pain to leave her mouth. She feels as the woman then reaches up and runs her hand through Sydney's hair.
She then stands up, walking away from the girl who sits, blood pouring from her arm more than before. Her heels are clicking on the floor, her shape and figure continuing to remind Sydney of her mother and that night in Taipei. It's haunting, actually. And Sydney continues to sit in the chair, and watch the woman. "Alright," Steph sighs, turning back to Sydney. She waits a moment, choosing her words, and creating anticipation in the woman she's interrogating. Steph is all about drawing things out like this. She loves to make the person she's interrogating agonize. She takes a deep breath, looking eyes traveling over Sydney's body. "I guess we should get to the questioning." She walks back, sitting in the chair before her again. "You wanna make this easy for yourself and agree to speak?"
"Go to hell!" Sydney is quick to yell at the girl. Steph kind of rolls her eyes and shakes her head, reaching to the table for a different tool. She lets her fingers browse the tools, not looking at them. And suddenly she feels the loogie of spit land on her face. She. Is. Livid.
Steph grabs a towel, and slowly wipes the spit from her own face, angry. "Yeah I didn't think you'd want this to be easy for you." She's very mad, letting a heavy breath leave her mouth. She feels vengeful even, but instead controls herself. She reaches over to her tools, and grabs a one-inch plastic block, used to hold a person's mouth open at the dentist. And she smiles, remembering days and nights studying under Suit & Glasses once more. "I know you know the methods of a colleague of mine." She states, prying open Sydney's mouth. She places the small bite guard into the woman's mouth, and views the missing teeth. She smiles. "Yes, you do know his work." And she then turns, reaching for her tools. "I do things a different way."
To say the feeling in the room is tense, would be an understatement, as Sark lets his eyes fall on Aiden. The question is still fresh in his mind. What the hell happened to your jaw?. The words are so simple, and the answer, isn't quite, though it is. He looks to Cole as well, thinking of an acceptable answer. But none come to mind, because Sark finds nothing of the situation acceptable. He raises his eyebrows in a kind of 'to hell with it' way, and lets a heavy breath leave his mouth. "Well, to be perfectly honest with you, Mckenas," He lets his eyes drift back to Aiden once more, giving him one of those warn-ful glares he knows how to fabricate so well. And Aiden keeps a stone cold face, almost daring Sark to speak on the exchange between them only minutes ago. "Aiden-"
"I punched him." Aiden's words interrupt Sark. And the man who was punched now feels defeated. Aiden has the upper hand because he came clean. He curses himself for being so foolish. He sighs, standing in front of Cole, and letting his eyes look at every person. He can't see Abs, but he knows she's staring at him, looking from his back to Aiden's eyes. He can tell by the lack of thrown daggers, and the look on Aiden's face, pleading with her and trying to explain. Simon and Allison both don't seem as preoccupied with the conversation as everyone else. They're both occasionally glancing in the direction, and not talking. And of course there's the smug grin planted on Aiden's face - the grin that Sark thought he was the only one allowed to command.
And then, there's McKenas Cole. He's kind of confused with the whole scene being played out before him, and yet at the same time impressed. And so he stands from the couch, champagne bottle left on the floor, walking in the direction of Sark. "So, you punched him?" He glances back over his shoulder at Aiden. And he's standing there, right in front of Sark, eyes trained on the bruised jaw. Sark lets a heavy sigh leaves his breath, wondering what is going through the man's mind. "Very impressive work, Mr. Ivanov. Looks like it could be a KO but... probably not." He shakes his head, the same wild-eyed grin still dancing in his eyes. Sark wants to leave, suddenly, check in on Steph's interrogation. This whole exchange is asinine and pointless. "May I touch it?"
The sound of the door opening rings through the room, and Elle spins on her heel, turning in its direction. She looks up behind her glasses as Dixon walks into the room, Will staying behind the two-way mirror. He slams the door shut, urgency burning in his movements. His face is less than pleased, and he takes the pad of paper from Elle's hand, walking by her. He lets his eyes skim over it, then looks up at Sloane, as he slaps the note pad on the table, placing his hands on the edge and leaning in the direction of the man. "What kind of stunt are you trying to pull here?" Dixon's words are low, and Elle takes a half step backward. She watches the man, both shocked in his sudden lack of control, and amazed in his new display of control. Dixon's tactics are very sharp and in tune with the situation.
Sloane has a completely different look on his face now. This look is that of arrogance and possibly self-importance. He takes a deep breath holding his eyes on the man who is suddenly trying to intimidate him. "Ya know, Marcus, you used to respect me." He says. Elle continues to stand with her hands folded low in front of her hips. "I think she respects me." He states, nodding on her direction. And Elle's eyes widen at the thought of her being brought into the conversation. She finds it very odd that she feels fine being alone in the room with Sloane, but when Dixon is with her, the tone is suddenly unsettling. She figures it has to do with the history looming between the two men. She vaguely brushed up on the information provided earlier, and really does feel for Director Dixon.
"Answer my question, you sorry son of a bitch." Dixon growls.
Sloane lets the smile still play on his face as he leans back in his chair, slightly. "You read the paper, director." He states. "I want a pardon from the US Government before I speak about anything I know." Elle sighs. She was shocked when she first read the words on the paper, confused. She turns for a second, glancing at the two-way mirror. Will. She wonders what he's thinking, if he's chomping at the bit to come and 'rescue' her from this situation. And what a day it's been, she thinks. She showed up at work early in the morning, preparing to do some research on an up and coming arms dealer from Argentina, but instead found herself whisked into the world only known to analysts, as 'first at-bat'. And she thinks of Will, her boss, and how she's worked under him for nearly a month, and it's only now that he can remember her name. She smiles at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if he's smiling back.
Dixon stands up, the sound of his movements drawing Elle's attention back to the events taking place before her. She takes a deep breath as he turns to her, handing her the pen she allowed Sloane to use. "I'm calling Lauren Reed." He states, walking out of the interrogation room all together, in to the hall. And suddenly Will is out of the room from behind the mirror, walking over to Elle.
"See, what makes me different, from my associate," Steph has slipped a pair of glasses on and is now sitting very close to Sydney's body, staring down into her open mouth. "Is that I don't pull the teeth." She smiles. And Sydney gulps as she hears the sound of some sort of drill or other kind of low humming tool, being switched on. She brings it to the woman's mouth, and Sydney can tell that it's the same kind of tool women use to shape their fingernails. And it has a metal head on it, the light bouncing off the fast paced spin it exhibits. "I grind them." Steph is smiling, and Sydney's eyes aren't depicting the shock burning with in her. Slowly the woman brings the tool closer to her mouth, and she touches it to one of her teeth, sending instant pain, before she pulls it away very quickly. "That is unless you want to talk." She smiles.
She then reaches in to Sydney's mouth and pulls the plastic bite block out. Sydney coughs a little, glaring at the woman before her. She wonders, though, in her mind what it is that they need her for. They've all been referring to her as a form of negotiation, and yet here she is being tortured for Intel. But most of all, she's wondering why they aren't using her in some kind of Rambaldi web, tangling her with in words of prophecy and inventions before their time. "Yeah I think we should talk." Steph smiles after the words, and puts the tool down on the table. She then stands, and walks away from the woman bound to the chair. "Let's talk about Project Black hole."
"I don't know anything about Black hole." Sydney declares. Steph frowns, sighing and rolling her eyes. She sits back down before her and shoves the bite block back inside the woman's mouth. Instantly she has the tool from before turned on, and is leaning over the woman. She shoves it in her mouth, set at the highest setting, and starts at the back, finding the most sensitive spots to each tooth. The pain is more that Sydney had expected it to be upon the first taste of this woman's wrath. But she takes it, letting everything she's ever been taught by her father, SD-6 and the CIA take over. She'll never give up the Intel, because she knows her life is far too important for these people. If they wanted her dead, she'd already be dead.
Elle and Will slip into the room behind the two-way mirror. At the same time Director Dixon and Lauren Reed walk into the room where Sloane still sits - they room they are at liberty to view. "Oh wow," She trails for a moment, looking through the window. "These things work really well." She laughs, only slightly; turning back and looking at Will who is standing a few feet away from her. And she turns back to the window, watching the way Lauren sits in the seat across from Sloane, writing on some forms. "So what is going on, exactly?" Elle questions, as Will walks up and stands next to her. He has his hands folded across his chest, his lips pressed together, and he lets a slow audible breath leave though his nose. She looks over at him, finding that there's something slightly different, but she can't exactly place her finger on it.
"Well," He begins to speak, glancing over at her for a split second and then back to the window. She grins when she realizes what is different, letting her eyes also peer into the room before them. Will isn't wearing his glasses, she's noticed, and is taking a slow, almost exhausted breath. "Ms. Reed is writing up the pardon for Sloane." He states. And Elle nods, already knowing what is going on in the room. They both stand in silence, listening as Lauren explains the details on the form. "Are you sure you're okay with the questioning?" Will asks, breaking the soft words they've been listening to. And she turns to find him looking at her.
She thinks for a moment, watching Will's face, and smiles. "Yeah." She replies, nodding slightly. "I am." Will nods in response, and turns back to the window. She follows suit, the silence and soft words once again enveloping them.
Quickly Lauren has finished, getting things signed, and Sloane's pardon enforced. Elle watches as the cuffs and shackles are removed from the man, and he sits in the room as a free man. Lauren and Dixon shake hands, just before she exits the room, rushing to inform her superiors in Washington DC of the event that just transpired. And Elle is ushered back in the room, by Dixon, to continue her line of questioning with the man in the interrogation room. "Okay, Mr. Sloane..." She trails, once Dixon has exited. She smiles at him, noting that he has an entirely different tone being reflected in his features. "So, let's talk about that information for your pardon." She sits down in front of him, the pen and pad of paper in front of her.
Sloane folds his hands on the table, watching the way Elle awaits his response. "You remind me of a younger version of my late wife, Emily."
Sark's face depicts that of shock, as he watches the way McKenas stares at him expectantly. "Alright, I'm taking that as a 'no', I guess." He laughs only slightly, and glances back at Aiden once more. "I've got to be honest though, I was sort of expecting something like this when I placed the both of you on this detail." McKenas then walks away from Sark, so that he can look at both men with out having to turn. "Ya see, the two of you are a conflict of interests, both contradicting the other." He looks over as Abs begins to throw her daggers once more, losing interest. He smiles at Sark, wild eyes staring into those of a calm, content man. He wonders, for a moment, if his words are even meaning anything to the man. But instead of pondering those thoughts, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak again.
"The two of you are brothers." He says. And both Aiden and Sark let their eyes widen at the blatant lie. "Not brothers by blood or genes or anything like that. But you're brothers by heritage. Both stemming from proud Russian families." It's weird all the insight McKenas Cole possesses. Sark would have never even guessed it to come from him. He continues to press his lips together, waiting for this pointless conversation to end. "Cane and Able, Romulus and Remus, Isaac and Ishmael..." Cole is trailing for the moment, thinking of his next words. "Nothing good has ever come when brothers are working together."
"What about the Brother's Grimm, or the Wright Brothers?" He hears Simon suddenly speaking. Cole turns his head, looking at him.
"Shut up Simon." He boldly dictates, and the man quiets. "More often than not, brothers turn on one another, and as much as you two may think you aren't brothers and couldn't be more different - the fact is that you do hold these similarities and we have to deal with them." He eyes both men. And the moment is starting to feel a little less tense and labored. "Now, I don't care who did what to piss whom off. I don't care what brought on this punch, at all, so don't tell me." He stops talking, thinking as he prepares his next words. "And as I said, I was partially expecting something like this. So here I am, faced with two options. One would be to put you, Aiden, as Sark's partner in this mission. But again we're back to brother's working together.... We're back to seeing those parallels."
Abs stops throwing her daggers now, listening and realizing that something is truly going on. She exhales, walking to the wall and retrieving the knives she's already thrown. "Abs, come here, I want you to hear this, and we'll tell Steph when she's done." Abs groans, not liking to be in close proximity with the man who's been speaking. She carries a few of the knives with her, and stands somewhat close to Sark, staring at Cole expectantly. "I've already enlisted a junior management agent from the South American cell to come in and work with us. When she arrives, she'll be taking over in command." Abs scoffs, slightly, and as McKenas turns to look at Allison and Simon, she raises one of the knives in her hand, Sark grabbing her wrist before she does anything.
The grinding stops, and she removes the tool from Sydney's mouth, followed by the bite block. Sydney leans forward, coughing again, spitting what feels like blood on to the front of herself. "I'm curious," She states, watching the way Sydney is recovering from the pain she just had rushing through her body. "Are you ready to start speaking?" She asks. Steph stands, walking away. And it's starting to get to Sydney, actually. Always with the up and down and up and down. She wonders if it's a character trait or if it's a form of interrogation. She figures it's the interrogation, living through the techniques this girl uses. She's smart, intuitive. She knows exactly what is going on at all times, completely aware of every word and every action that needs to occur. Sydney is actually impressed.
"I don't know anything about Project Black hole." Sydney states, almost tired. And Steph turns to her, standing just outside of the light. She has this sinister look spreading across her features from the lighting. And Sydney just waits for the next words, or the next form of torture. She kind of wonders how long this will carry on. Stephania seems like she could carry on for days, and judging by her actions, she could back it all up.
Steph groans, frustrated with the words. "If you don't know about Project Black hole, then how come you were present when Sark returned Director Dixon's child to him? How come you were in possession of the box that was from lot forty-five? If you know nothing about Black hole, then how come you are linked to it?" She asks. Sydney keeps quiet. "Exactly." Steph keeps backed away from the woman, in the blackness as she paces, thinking. "So I think I should ask this question again, shouldn't I? What do you know about Project Black hole?" She boldly asks. And she steps back into the light, looking even more deadly and dangerous than before. Sydney hates it that she keeps finding herself having respect for this woman's tactics.
"I know nothing of Black hole." She responds. And Steph hates it that she's respecting Sydney's tactics. She sits back down in the chair and grabs the tweezers again. This is not about torture or interrogation right now. This is about her utter hatred. The woman's resilience is beginning to ware on her, heavy. She reaches her hand forward and rips one of the stitches out, watching as the blood flow begins to pick up. She smiles.
"Her name is Celestine Carmen Esperanza Rosalyn Diego Fernandez... Or something along those lines." Cole scratches his head, looking at all the other people in the room. He lets his head shake for a moment, then begins speaking once more. "She goes by Christine, and she'll be here tomorrow morning, early." He explains. And everyone continues to keep quiet, listening to the words. Everyone save for Abs.
"Whoa," She is suddenly speaking, walking away from Sark and over to McKenas. "What the hell are you doing? We're in the middle of this operation, we have the hostage here, and now you're going to bring some random person in here to head things up. Don't you think that if someone should take Sark's place it should be one of us - Someone who has been working on this operation just as long as he and everyone else has?" She's speaking loudly, standing before Cole, holding a dagger in her hand. And a part of her desperately wants to throw the knife and see where it lands in his chest. A part of her wants to just let him have it - though she knows she should not. She looks to her left, hearing someone moving; it's Simon. He's standing up, using the set of wooden crutches as he walks over. She lets her eyes fall on the dark-haired man and wonders why he's suddenly taking interest.
Simon stops, his armpits resting in the crutches, standing on his right leg. His left is off the ground, the entire leg resting slightly forward in comparison to the other. And he wears a kind of different outfit, loose fitting black pants, but the same white wife beater tank top. "I'm going to have to agree with Abs on this subject." He stands next to her, waiting for McKenas to respond, though he doesn't. "But here's what I'm thinking - we can still work with this new girl, and even let her head up some of the operation, but we can't give her all the control. So whom do we replace Mr. Sark with?" He glances over his shoulder at Sark, the blonde man realizing that this is in fact happening, and he is in fact being over thrown. "I suggest we allow one of us - someone who has been on this op for a while, to head things up."
"That's fine." Both Simon and Abs look up as Cole says the words. Simon turns, glancing at her, and she kind of shrugs in response. "Christine is still going to head things up, and work on the document forgery we're bringing her in for." He walks back to the couch and sits down; making sure everyone has his or her attention on him. He likes it when they're all this intent, listening to the words he has to say. "So to head up operations with her, I'm going to appoint..." He trails for a moment, looking at each person in the room. His eyes land on Abs and he smiles. She smiles back. "Yeah, I'm picking Steph."
Elle rubs her eyes slightly, walking next to Will as they both enter Dixon's office. Dixon, who was walking just before them, stands behind his desk, waiting for the two to sit down in the chairs before it. And they do so, as Lauren enters the room as well. She sits in a third chair, barely in everyone's line of vision, and Dixon sits down behind his desk. "So Ms. Williams, what is your analysis of what Sloane said?" He questions. And Elle nods, looking down at the pad of paper. She exhales heavily before she begins to speak.
"Well, umm, I think he was lying." She answers. And the look on Dixon's face is anything but pleased. He turns to Lauren, preparing to tell her to terminate his pardon because he didn't follow through with his end of the bargain. "That being said, Director, he did give me information about what he thinks is on the original page 47." She licks her lips, wetting them slightly, and looks down at the paper for a moment. She looks back up at Dixon.
Elle sits for a moment, deciding her next words. "He said that what was on page 47 wasn't actually supposed to be a prophecy at all. The true prophecy is in a box of some sort. And that what was on the original page 47 was directions on how to open the box." Dixon groans, remembering the box which he and Sydney gave to Sark in exchange for his daughter's life.
Sydney doesn't dare cry out in pain as she'd like to. She just continues to feel the sharp agonizing jolts of evil as Steph pulls more of her stitches out. One. Two. Three. And she tries to mentally do the math. There are only about six left in. The blood isn't exactly pouring or rushing, but she can hear it pooling on the floor beneath her chair. She looks up as Steph sighs, staring at Sydney. "This is really getting old." She shakes her head, standing again. Up. Down. Up. Down. She looks at the table, surveying her options. "There's so much I can do..." She trails for a moment, looking to the small bottle. And she then sits down in the chair once more, holding in her hands, in front of Sydney. She doesn't know if this tactic will work - very aware that this woman has been hard-wired to be a spy ever since she was a little girl.
"Do you know what this is?" She questions, holding the bottle before Sydney. She then holds her hand up, stopping Sydney from speaking. "It's a prototype for the Truth Serum that you and your father believe you stole the only one of this evening." She smiles. "And so I'm sure you know all about it, and what it does." She smiles, holding a syringe next to the small bottle. "But I'm not going to use it, because well... to be honest it would make it so you can't feel what I'm actually going to do." She shakes her head, and reaches for what has looked like a long narrow leather bag. She opens it, pulling out a red cloth. And she then opens the cloth, slowly unfolding it, to show a series of five acupuncture needles. "You know McKenas Cole - He calls you pig tails." She states, holding up one of the needles.
And Steph then holds the needle in front of Sydney's face, "Here's the deal, a few years ago he used his set of Needles Of Fire on your former boss, Arvin Sloane." Steph smiles, holding the needle near her once more. Sydney tries to watch the woman, but feels her vision begin to blur. "But see, I changed the recipe, I made them better." She takes a deep breath. "So right about now, Ms. Bristow, would be a lovely time to give me the information you have on Project Black hole, otherwise you're going to feel some of the most acute pain you've ever felt in your life. And I don't kid around about this." Sydney feels her head get heavy, and then light as her eyes shut. The loss of blood through out the past few hours is too much for her body to take, and she passes out.
The heavy glass doors shut, making a click as they latch. Lauren Reed quickly walks out of the office, pulling the black cell phone from her purse. She finds her way to the same disclosed entryway she always uses to call Sark, and begins dialing the phone. She then holds it to her ear, watching the way people scurry around the main office, talking among each other. When she hears the answer on the other end she smiles. "Arvin Sloane told them about the directions to open the box - he didn't have any new information however." She states.
"Was he pardoned?" The voice on the other end questions. And Lauren smiles, knowing that she's done her job well. She responds with a yes, waiting for the man to speak again. "I will get the information out of him." The man states. And Lauren nods, knowing he can't see her. "What is the CIA's next move?"
"They've decided to try to negotiate, Jack Bristow and the other agent arrive with in the hour and they'll start talks then." Lauren hears as the man tells her she's doing a good job. She smiles at his voice. He then thanks her for making contact so quickly. "You're welcome, Mr. Bomani." She hangs the phone up and then walks back out into the main office.