Blood Binds – But Betrayal Blinds
FOURTEEN – Counterfeit Assurance
Rating: PG/PG-13
Setting: LA, Unknown Location in Eastern Europe, Air Space over the Atlantic, Zurich
Characters: Arvin Sloane, Sark, Abs Michaelis (Jessica Alba), Michael Vaughn, Jack Bristow, Aiden Ivanov (Hugh Dancy or James Franco), Steph Mariani (Eliza Dushku) mentioned Sydney Bristow
Length: 3,333 Words
He hates commercial jets. They're always so damn cold and uncomfortable. But he is now a humanitarian. He is devoting his life to that of others. And in being a humanitarian, he has to spend some time with the people. Okay, so he knows that is a bunch of bullshit. He was held by the United States Government and hardly given the opportunity to prepare a private jet, upon his departure. He slips his glasses off as he accepts the tumbler of Vodka and Cranberry juice from the flight attendant. Well at least he's in first class.
Arvin Sloane is the new head of the K-Directorate. The only catch is that no one knows this - not even the members of KD, save for a hand full of high-ranking officials. He is what most might call a 'Silent Leader'. Practically every decision made by K Directorate goes through Sloane, and yet no one knows that these decisions go through him. He pulls the cell phone from his pocket, thrilled to be able to wear suits and ties again. Wingtips are a Godsend, especially considering that he's had to spend the last week in a blue/gray jump suit and a pair of tennis shoes with out socks. Anymore of that and he might have actually begged to be executed.
He dials a number on his black cell phone, waiting for an answer. Only one ring - good for her. He takes a comfortable breath. "Hello Mr. Sloane." Her voice is sweet. He loves his secretary. So naive and content in being such. She never asks questions - never tries to get anything out of him. She's just the kind of person he needs working for him.
"Hi, Ekaterina. I just wanted to call you and let you know that I will not be in the office this afternoon." Sloane stirs the small straw in his drink, then takes a sip of it. Ahh, how he loves this drink. And he feels so wonderfully relaxed - like after hours of meditation. "Have I received any packages today?"
"Yes sir." She sounds kind of eager, Sloane thinks. But shrugs it off. No, Ekaterina would never ask what it is; she's probably just a little excited that it came. "You received a disc this morning with your mail." The disc. He smiles. The disc he's been waiting for. Finally.
"Thank you." And he hangs his phone up.
"I'm saying, Sark, that I would prefer we not play these games." Abs sighs, hating this constant power play for control. The bathroom. The tub. And the conversation. Sark wonders why he came in. She's so frustrating, and at the same time so is he. And his question - his are you saying you want me to leave? Such a cheap shot. Such a dishonest way to go about things.
He exhales, "Not everything I say has a double meaning, Abs."
"And the things you do?" She questions. "What do they mean?" She moves the water around. "See, the sex is just sex to you and the work is just work. But what I need to know, is where the hell I fall in." He knows exactly what he wants to say to her.
He falters, a halt, because he does not know the answer. Or maybe he does. And he, for a moment, wonders if this is how Aiden makes her feel. He wonders if this sudden turn inward, to see what he can find, is what Aiden does with Abs, and why she turns to him. "I didn't expect-"
"bullshit!" She cuts in, anger ablaze in her words. "We both know your MO, so grant me the respect to not sit here and lie to me." Not here she thinks in their private moment together. Their private moment together... That is complete crap. This is her moment - her private moment alone with her thoughts. And he came in, busted up all of her thoughts, like he always does. That ass.
And he wonders if his honesty in general is what she's looking for. "You're the first one to ask, did you know that?" He questions, indignantly. She wants so badly to climb out of this tub and smack the smug smile that she can't possibly see right now off of his stupid face.
He knows she's rolling her eyes, because he knows her actions that well. "Well, lucky me, Sark. I want an answer." He hates that he knows her actions.
He sighs. "I don't know. I didn't think you'd get like this."
"Like what?" A snap. And a waited beat while he scowls, frustrated. He stands.
"Wait." He exhales. "Don't, Abs... Just let me speak." And he waits a moment. Nothing. "I didn't think you'd get like this, I didn't think you'd get to be someone who made me actually struggle to answer a question like this. With all the other ones - the ones who didn't question - they already knew the answer, and so did I. The answer was that they were sex, and they were work, and I could cut them out, if need be. They were expendable." And maybe he's pleading, because why, he does not know.
He watches as the curtain is swiftly pulled back so that she can see him. And she's sitting up, covering her upper body only slightly with the black washcloth, while the mounds of white bubbles do the rest. "No. That is just a bunch of s, Sark, and you know it." The anger he knows so well. She's glaring at him. "You fucking tell me right now if I'm expendable. Then we'll know where we stand and you can go on your merry little way spreading cheer through out this damned team, okay?" Sarcasm. Angry sarcasm, and she has a pointed glare in his direction. She will not back down that easy.
"You're so fucking needy, Abigail," he seethes, because she is making him analyze his choices - all the decisions that he makes. He is questioning his own worth and he feels she is partially to blame for his dethroning. Her emotions have distracted him, and oh how he should truly hate her for this.
"Leave." She shuts the curtains to the tub. "I'm not joking here Sark. And this isn't some opportunity for you to go and win me back. I want you to leave." She listens, intently. And she hears as he turns, feet pounding on the floor. The door in unlocked, and he opens it, shutting it behind him. He's gone. Abs exhales heavily, leaning back in the tub. When did it all get like this? Why has everything become so complicated and damn emotional? Stupid Sark.
Vaughn looks up as the man approaches. Jack Bristow. He knew he was going to have to have this encounter eventually. But maybe he was hoping deep down inside that it might not happen. Oh who is even trying to kid here? Jack stops in front of the cell, looking at Vaughn who gets up from the bed. He crosses to the bars. They are face to face. The tension is so palpable, so thick. Vaughn thinks it might just suffocate him. "So," He listens as Jack begins to speak. He knows this man is enjoying this very moment. God how he's enjoying it. Vaughn presses his lips together and then takes a deep breath. He has to brace himself for this, he's sure of it. "So Dixon and I talked; He told me what happened. But I was thinking that maybe you could give me your version of the events." A smile is spreading across Jack's face, but it quickly leaves, replaced with the normal frowning glare.
"You're only doing this to humiliate me." Vaughn responds. And now Jack does smile. Smug bastard.
"Yes, I am, Agent Vaughn," he answers, raising an expectant eyebrow to the man. "So I figure you can grace me with that gift, can't you? I would like to see you humiliate yourself, since you decided to throw my name around in your temper tantrum this morning." He knows that Jack is pissed. He knows that Jack knows everything and he knows that Jack is not going to let him ever forget this moment. Maybe Vaughn has screwed up one too many times. Damn.
"Isn't my being here punishment enough?" Vaughn is quick with the rebuttal. And Jack let's a chuckle leave his lips. He likes this far too much, maybe. Vaughn should be on his hands and knees apologizing and begging for forgiveness. Well he would be doing that if he knew what was good for him. And instead he stands as though he has done nothing wrong, and as though he's in no way at fault.
Jack shakes his head, then parts his lips to speak, thinking at the same time. Though he's not really trying to think of something to say, he has the words pre-planned in his brain. No, he's just giving Vaughn the illusion of consideration toward his question. Jack has waited for a moment like this for a while and he sure as hell is not going to waste it. "No, Vaughn, you're being here is not enough."
"Yeah, I lost my tempter, Jack. I don't want to get into this right now. I'm sorry." The apology is fake. They both know this very well. He sounds so childish right about now. Jack wonders if Vaughn knows that he's here to unlock his cell. He probably doesn't and he'll most likely end up digging a hole for himself. That's what Jack likes about Vaughn. He's a constant form of entertainment. "I want to know what you know about what happened to Sydney. Do you have anything new that you can tell me? Like it or not, Jack, she means as much to me as she does to you."
"No." Jack replies quickly. "We have no new information about Sydney." He sure as hell is not going to acknowledge Vaughn's last statement. He in no way is going to give this man any satisfaction. This wait is so agonizing. All they want is the one small phone call to have an idea of what the Covenant really wants. And Lord knows the wait is the worst part. "We're still waiting for that."
Vaughn reaches up and rubs his eyes. He takes a deep breath, nodding. And he turns, walking away from Jack. This is so stressful. They all have faith that Sydney has the strength of body and mind to make it through yet another ordeal like this. But still they feel helpless, and to have Sydney go through this kind of thing again is just completely pathetic. And God why is it always Sydney? Why is it always about Sydney and taking her away from the people she loves? If only things had been different for the girl.
"Vaughn, I'm here to let you out." Jack states, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. And it's then that Vaughn first notices the fact that there wasn't a guard walking with him upon his arrival. He wonders if this is typical illegal Jack protocol. He hopes it isn't. That's really the last thing he needs at the moment. The door to the jail cell opens with a screeching noise - metal rubbing against metal. Vaughn figures that the CIA does that on purpose - that they add little nuances like that to make a person go insane. Vaughn has noticed them all. The one that really has started to bother him is the fact that the floor isn't level. That could easily drive him to a rampage. Or maybe not.
The next thing Vaughn knows, he's pushed up against the bars, Jack's face only inches from his. "Yes, don't ask me about it, I'm threatening you." His words are a growl. "Now listen to me Michael - you question my authority and my decisions concerning my daughter one more time and I will make sure that you never accompany her on any kind of field work again. And that will only be the beginning of what I do. Do you understand, Agent Vaughn?" His words are so low. And Vaughn wonders if maybe he's just hallucinating the entire exchange. No. Of course he isn't. This is Jack Bristow. Threats are normal. Vaughn nods, Jack lets up and takes a step back. "Good." His voice is much louder now. "You need to get back to work." Jack steps out of the jail cell, and Vaughn gathers up his things, following through the door and catching up with the man.
His eyes are shut. He hears her every hushed step as she mills about the bedroom, looking for something to do. And Aiden wishes that she would just settle in. But instead Steph looks, continues to look, for something. He wants to open his eyes and either helps her find whatever it is she's looking for, or give her something to do. He knows she doesn't like to sleep after a botched interrogation. Not that she doesn't like to, actually, but more that she doesn't want to. And she's probably looking for some sort of proper substitute for a Yoga mat right now, so that she can sit out on the balcony and find her balance. In this house it won't happen. And he continues to just lay there with his eyes closed, fully clothed on his back, sprawled on the bed because he's pretending to be asleep. It's been a few minutes, and so revealing his consciousness right now might just be rude.
The door to the bedroom opens, and for a moment Aiden thinks that Steph is leaving. No. Sark's voice. "I would like to have a word with you." And it's muffled, he figures because he's still standing in the doorway, and because Steph is probably standing right at the door, talking to him. Aiden opens his eyes and sits up, watching as Sark enters the room. And the blonde man stops when he sees Aiden. They both look at one another and then to Steph to see what she's going to do or say. She turns to Aiden, giving him a pleading look and he quickly stands, walking out of the room. So this is how things are going to be, now that Steph is in charge. It's so very like Sark to suddenly swoop in on whoever is in charge.
Aiden shuts the door behind him, and Sark turns to Steph, who is now sitting on the chair. "Well?" She questions, expectantly. Sark sighs, walking over and sitting on the end of the bed. It's soft, comfortable. He thinks he could just spread out, lie down and finally give in to the nagging exhaustion he's been feeling for the past few hours. Stupid sleep. He wishes he didn't mean it.
He looks up at Steph, and smiles. "Well, first of all, I would like to apologize for earlier." Steph is not naive. She knows exactly what he is doing. She knows that he doesn't have a single sincere bone in his body. And yet at the same time, she is very thankful to hear an apology from his man. Apologies from Sark do not come often, if at all. She has something he wants. She has power.
"Thank you," she says in reply. Sark nods for a moment, waiting and considering his next words. He doesn't normally do this. He doesn't normally have to be the dog and try to get on someone's good side. People normally have to do that to him.
Sark stands and crosses the room, walking over to her. He stands before the woman wondering what tactic he should take. First of all he could threaten her, make sure that the decisions she's making have to go through him. But this is Stephania - the only woman to ever earn his respect through his own interrogation. No. He can't threaten her. "I have a proposition for you."
Abs looks up hearing the door to the bathroom open again. "Fuck you Sark, just leave." She growls. But the door shuts, and the person walks across the room, sitting in the chair. "Sark?" She pulls back the curtain to find Aiden sitting in the chair, a smile on his face.
"Wow." His words are soft. And she knows it's not in response to how she looks. "You must be really mad at yourself right about now." She knows exactly what he means and lets the curtain slowly fall shut. Aiden always knows exactly how she feels. He sits in the chair, comfortably, taking a deep breath. "Why are you punishing yourself, Abs?" The candles. He knows she's summoning memories for some reason, and at the same time wonders why. What is it that plagues her so much that she needs to feel the horribly painful memories of a neglected childhood?
"What are you talking about?" She asks in response. He doesn't say anything, waits for her to speak. God, as much as she appreciates Aiden, she doesn't want to go through this right now. "I don't know... I just felt like taking a bath." She doesn't even believe those words. But she doesn't want to talk about this. She doesn't want to talk about the fact that she is making herself remember everything about her past - every painful moment. "Why are you in here?" She asks.
Aiden lets out an audible breath sitting up straighter and reaching forward. He lets his fingers rub the fabric to the curtain, feeling the soft threads on his flesh. "Sark is probably trying to get Steph to go into some kind of silent alliance with her." Aiden responds. "He came in and asked to 'have a word', so I left." This time the audible breath leaves her mouth. Aiden hears it and waits a moment to see if she's up for explaining it. "So, I take it you were just talking to Sark?"
"Yeah I was." She says in response. "I threw him out."
Aiden smiles. "Good for you."
Simon watches from where he sits on the bed, as Allison gets off the phone, closing the chrome colored piece of technology and slipping it into her pocket. "Alright." Her words are soft, she sits in the chair. "That was Anna, she just got word that the disc was delivered successfully." Allison explains. Simon nods, waiting a few moments before he speaks.
"When are we going to know who the hell we're working for?" He asks. Simon has always been angry with this. He's always been hostile about the fact that they don't know who is leading up the organization he's putting his life on the line for. Allison, not as much. She seems to be okay with double-crossing the Covenant, and at the same time, okay with not knowing whom she's double crossing them for.
She pulls her hair out of her face, into a high ponytail before she gets back to writing on the pad of paper she's been using. "You know it's better that we don't know anything - that way we have nothing to tell anyone." She states. Simon nods, always relentless in his pursuit to discover who is leading this organization. He leans back against the pillows and closes his eyes. "Don't worry about it." He nods, starting to drift into slumber. Allison smiles, and continues to write down the Intel she has acquired so far about this Covenant operation. She's set to make a hand off some time soon. And when she's finished, she places it in a locked briefcase, and then places that underneath the bed.
Simon is still awake, and holds his arms out as she slips her pants off and climbs into the bed. She sighs, resting her head in this man's neck. He rubs her arm and she slips into a soft slumber right along with him.