TITLE: BOUNCING VAUGHN
AUTHOR: greenapple
SUMMARY: someone is after Vaughn and he's trying escape from death.
A/N: First Alias fic. Something I've been thinking for a while now. This is a Virgin story, no one had beta-ed it, so suggestions/insults/rotten tomatoes will be warmly welcome at
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, but I wish I had Vaughn all for me.
Vaughn was surprised to see himself assigned to a field mission. He wasn't a field operative, so he wasn't just used to it. But he obliged anyway.
The few times he'd been in the field were because of Sydney. On or off the record, his only 'spy adventures', like he silly called them, Sydney Bristow had been involved. But, there he was, receiving a mission briefing from Jack Bristow, which, by the way, he never thought would happen.
Vaughn got the details of his mission, asked a few questions and got a few answers. Jack told him that he was going to be accompanied by Sydney, that they'd pose as brother and sister in an excursion in India. Their mission was very simple: they would have to extract information from a hidden base, information about mysterious vaccines developed within that base. There were not security problems, the CIA had notes on every change of guards, dates, times, and nothing could go wrong. It was and break in, take the information they needed, and get out mission.
Vaughn asked why Sydney wasn't there with them receiving the briefing with him, and Jack said she had a mission with SD-6, that Vaughn himself had to brief her when she got back.
Jack stood up and left Vaughn wondering if Sydney could easily do this job all by herself, why was the CIA asking him to go with her? He didn't give that much thought and he went to prepare himself for his mission.
Once he knew Sydney would be at home, he called her at home to with the usual 'Joey's pizza?' code. Later, they met at the warehouse and he gave her all the mission's particulars. Sydney didn't seem surprised to be sent to a mission with a much less experienced agent. She flashed him one of her famous smiles and asked him if there was something else. And there wasn't, so she left.
Actually, Sydney was kind of excited to travel with Vaughn, and she didn't see how dangerous it would be if SD-6 discover her going on a mission with a CIA officer posing as brother and sister. That would definitely blow her cover. But according to her father, he had worked out that part with Sloane. How? She didn't wonder.
They met on the plane and she pretended to be asleep the whole trip, but from time to time, she would take a peek in Vaughn's direction and see him staring absently through the plane window.
They got safe to their destination. They played the brother and sister act and everyone bought it. Once they were in the outdoors, they stopped the charade. She noticed him a little strange and she thought it might be him being concentrating, but after a little while of quiet walking, she decided to ask him about it.
"Vaughn, what's wrong?" She asked a little preoccupied. "Why?" He asked her. "You've been a little quiet since we took the plane in LA". She answered him. "I-I've been, I don't know I have a bad feeling, that's all" Sydney dismissed any further questions the same time Vaughn did with his hand.
They walked another mile and got to the base. Like they were told, it was an easy cake. Vaughn checked the security and guard their exit while Sydney took the information they needed. They reunited and left. It took them thirty-five minutes. Then, they took the same road back to the hotel.
Sydney took that opportunity to tell him a few things about her normal life. How Francie was doing with her restaurant and how thankful she was for getting Will a research job. She was trying to make conversation and Vaughn played along. She asked him about his favorites teams in every sport and he answered her. She also asked him about what books he liked and some other trivial stuff. At some point she felt it was a one-sided conversation.
After a little while, Sydney asked him if he was scared when he discovered he had been infected with the virus. He lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, then told her that it was one of the scariest moments of his life. That it wasn't the scariest, but it ranked the top three, and that he didn't want to go through something like that again; all the pain, the uncertainty, the fear. He thought there was a lot more he had to do, and those days made him feel like he would never find out how much more he could do. And after that, he shouted down to her again.
They got to the hotel and waited for the next day to come. Each one of them went to their rooms. Vaughn still had the feeling something bad was going to happen. He couldn't shrug it off. But there's always another day. His aunt Trish told him that. Well, kind of.
The next morning, Sydney told him they got to be in the airport at 2 and that they were going to take a plane to Germany and then he would take a plane to LA and she would take another to London, and finally make it back to LA. He didn't understand why they would have to make so many scales, why just go straight home. She told him that they would separate in Germany because her father had told Sloane that she wanted to go to London and a tour for a few other European cities, and that way it wouldn't be a problem.
They took the plane and in fact separated in Germany, she waited for her flight to London and he went to rent a hotel room because his plane would leave thirteen hours later, and he was tired.
When he was going on his way to a paid phone, he saw a men walking behind him. He had already seen that guy when they landed, but dismissed his worries. He looked up for a hotel in the phone guide and went to take a taxi. He got to the hotel and paid for a room and told the receptionist to call him in a few hours and also asked for something to eat.
He ate and slept and then decided to take a small walk. He was looking for something to give to his mother and went to a few stores in the area before his ride to the airport arrived to the hotel. When he was walking, he saw the same guy. He was wearing a hat and different clothes, but it was the same man, Vaughn could tell. He, in a paranoid act, got into one store and watched the man do the same thing, then Vaughn left the store and confirm that man was following him.
Vaughn walked and kept walking to a crowed street. They wouldn't do anything to hurt him where there were people, right? Then, Vaughn found an ally. He went in. He saw the man looking for him, and Vaughn decided to hide for a while. When he could no longer see the man, he decided to go out. He looked everywhere before going out.
Vaughn decided it was time to go back to the hotel and let the CIA know he was in trouble, but when he was on his way he saw the man again. They could see each other's faces. Vaughn gasped, he turned to avoid the other man, but bumped into a woman with a lot of bags with her. The woman was not very pleased of being thrown to the ground by a mad man, and Vaughn could tell she was cursing him and his grandchildren in German.
Vaughn composed himself and stood up and started running. Every now and then he turned around to see if the man was still following him. He was, so he kept running. He ran through several blocks and found a place where he thought he could hide. He hid there long enough to suppose the other guy was looking for him somewhere else. He went out, but just then, he saw the other man right in front of him, Vaughn started running again, but he got to a dead end. He turned again and saw the man. Vaughn froze. The man told him not to move, and aimed his gun to Vaughn, he was going to shot, but Vaughn, in a very quick movement, managed to throw some coins he had in his pockets to the man and when he regained his composure Vaughn was nowhere to be seen.
The man chased Vaughn and was few steps behind him. Vaughn ran faster than he ever thought he could and kept turning his head to see his hunter with a gun pointing at Vaughn. Vaughn tripped on his own feet but he got up fast. Then he saw a fence a big fence and he jumped. He kept on running in a sense of self preserving, and he didn't feel the exploding sensation in his abdomen.
Vaughn managed to lose the man. And he found another place to hide. He held his breath every time he heard a movement, fearing it was his hunter searching for him. He was behind a huge metal box that was used for storage in a dark alley. He was cold, he was freezing. He wasn't wearing the right clothes. Everything around him was damped and dirty. He closed his eyes and refused to believe that was happening to him. It couldn't be for real.
At some point he fell asleep. When he woke up, he couldn't figure out where he was or why he was there. He looked around him and he saw nothing but metal walls; that's when his mind started working again: he was hiding from a man who was after him to kill him. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
He needed to think of what to do.
He closed his eyes, and made himself think. 'Come on, Michael, let's see what you have' he thought to himself. He checked his pockets. He had some money, enough to bribe a few people to help him get out of Germany. He also had his passport and the keys to his hotel room. Well, they weren't going to do much for him now. He threw them away. He also had his wallet with him. He had sewn on his jacket he real passport and documents identifying him as a CIA officer. He also had a few false passport and ids.
One of the few things he learnt from his father reading his journal and a few conversations he heard him having with someone else was always have your real documents hiding somewhere with you, because you never know when you're going to need them; but also don't forget to have a few bogus ones. They're even more important than the real ones. He was his father's child.
His survivor instincts kicked in and he figured out a way to get out of the country without being known as CIA officer Vaughn or the alias he was checked in the hotel. He was obvious of the wound in his abdomen, partly it was the adrenaline, and partly he didn't have time to worry about it. He started walking away, nervous every time someone approached, cautious every time a car passed by. All his things were at the hotel and maybe the people following him were or had been there. He wasn't going to take that risk.
Thank God he was wearing a dark jacket because every one would have notice the bloodstain on it. He took a cab to a bar in a not so good part of the city, but where he knew for some reason that he was going to find someone he could pay to falsify the immigrations seals on his fake passport and someone to help him leave the country in a not so very legal way.
He did found that someone. He used the password. "Hast du heute die Zigaretten-schachtel gehabt?" all he needed to hear as a comfirmation was "Die Zigaretten-schachtel ist jetzt hier". Vaughn thought it was a stupid set of questions to used like a passwords which made no sense at all when used together, but he didn't have to use them again, so he didn't worry about how stupid they might sound.
"Wo ist das Geld?" The man asked him. "Ich habe das Geld. Schaffst du das?" Vaughn said in his precarious German. "Ja." The man nodded. "Das kann sein. Sie kann nicht gut Deutsch". Vaughn smiled and said "Ich kommen aus Frankreich". He half lied. The man didn't buy it. But hey, he was going to be paid a lot of money to take this man out of the country, so if he said he was from France, he was from France.
Vaughn asked the man if he could get a new set of clothes, he didn't want to cause the impression of being a homeless guy. But he also didn't want to look like an American CIA officer trying to escape from eminent death. Once he got his new clothes, he went to the bathroom and began to change. And then. He noticed the amount of blood coming out of the little hole in his stomach. The cold air was doing nothing to ease the pain that was starting to make itself notice. He used part of his previous shirt as a bandage and wrapped it around his waist to stop the bleeding for a little while. He had brought some whiskey and vodka from the bar with him and poured a lot of liquor over a piece of cloth and then put it on the wound in order to diminish his chances of getting an infection. That was the last thing he needed then.
The man at the bar, also known as the Kaiser, told Vaughn that they were going to a town outside Munich by car to get to a private airport where they would take a 'cargo airplane' (that was the term used by the Kaiser) which was going to take Vaughn to Spain. The town was two hours from where they were at that moment. He had to pretend he was another worker in a fake mailing company, which, in reality, was a façade of a bunch of computer contrabandists. Nothing so outside the law, Vaughn thought.
The man gave Vaughn his papers and drove him to the town. Vaughn kept his coat with the passport sewn to it with him, and the pain barely noticeable before was now causing him trouble standing upright. The Kaiser noticed that and told him, this time in English that they could stop anytime he wanted.
"Are you sure you're alright?" The Kaiser asked. Vaughn nodded. "You need medical attention. That bullet is not going to be taken out by itself" he said with a little smile. "I'll take care of it once I got out of here" Vaughn replied. "That doesn't sound French at all." The Kaiser inquired. "You also speak English and I didn't say a thing." Vaughn was ready to evade. "You're an American, right?" the asked continued his interrogatory. "You don't know a word of French, do you?" "I DO know a couple of things I could tell you in French right now, but I don't want you to cut my throat." "You have to be an American." "No, I'm French." Vaughn said again. "Not need to be lying, my friend" The Kaiser smiled. "You are an American, with friends in high places." "How would you know?" Vaughn wanted to know how this man could be so sure about his proceedings. "You asked for the cigarettes box. That's the password for Americans. Americans secret agents who are desperate." He smiled again. "I'm not a secret agent" and Vaughn wasn't lying again. He was an agent, not a SECRET agent. "How much longer till we get to the airport?" "Another hour." The Kaiser said. He knew Vaughn's secret, and he wasn't interested in establish a buddy-buddy relationship with Vaughn, so there was no need for Vaughn's admission. "Why are you running away?" "A good guest knows when to leave." Vaughn replied. He wasn't up to talk about his problems with a German documents faker, called "The Kaiser". "You don't want to talk about it. I'll guess. Someone is after you. They shot you. You were lucky they didn't kill you. Now you're trying to go back to your country where you think you'll be safe. But deep inside you think nothing is what it seems. You just want to get home safe." "Well, you have your own spy novel right there, dontcha?" Vaughn said in a teasing tone, although he knew everything the Kaiser was saying was true. "Hey, I'm in your corner." The Kaiser teased back.
They got to the airport and the Kaiser told Vaughn his cover: he was a German worker who just got the job today, his name was Oskar Müllen. He also told him not to speak much because everyone would notice he wasn't who he was saying he was.
"Is that a real name?" Vaughn asked. "Huh?" "Müllen. Is that a real name? Because I never can tell when is a real name." The Kaiser just smiled, leaving Vaughn with the doubt. "You'll have to figure it out. That'll give you something to think about during the plane trip." He smiled again. "Oh, and by the way, say hi to my old friend. Tell her the skies are not longer blue since she left." Vaughn felt caught. "I will," He told him. He shook the Kaiser's hand and got into the plane. The Kaiser gave him a note. He put it in Vaughn's pocket.
When Vaughn was on the plane, he showed his documents to the guy on the plane, who gave him the heads up. He told him in German that they were going to get an embark in Barcelona and deliver it in Switzerland in two days. He said some other things, but Vaughn wasn't sure about what was it. He didn't care less. He wasn't planning on staying with those guys anyway.
When he was going to put his documents back into his pockets he saw the note the Kaiser left him there.
"Once you land in Barcelona, there's going to be woman waiting for a package containing roses. You're going to tell her in Spanish that you're the guy, who brings the roses, but you lost them during the trip; that you'll get her better roses when you get back. She'll understand and she'll take you with a man named Vasquez. You tell him everything and tell him you come from the Kaiser's. He'll see what he can do to help you with everything you need."
After he read the note, he whispered to himself. " Roses? What's with these people and their weird codenames and passwords."
Vaughn felt numb and dizzy, but he couldn't let the pain stop him in his journey. He applied more alcohol to his wound and he felt like he was going to scream, but he couldn't. They would find out.
When he got to Barcelona, he went to the bathroom to check on his abdomen. The guys at the plane told him to start unpacking the boxes and load a few more into the plane. He told them he needed the bathroom for a minute and that he'll be back. When he was out of the bathroom, he sneaked out of the hangar and met the woman.
"Disculpe, Señor," She said to him. "Venía usted en el avión que acaba de aterrizar?" "Sí, señora." Vaughn waited for the signal. "Sabe si ahí venían unas rosas?" "Yo soy quien traía las rosas. Yo las perdí durante el viaje, pero le prometo que le enviaré otras mejores cuando regrese." He said to her in a quiet tone. "Eso espero." She replied.
The idea of the lady talking about money and not roses crossed his mind. How much would he have to pay her or the Kaiser? But also, someone could interpret it as Vaughn's documents being lost and him needing a ride back home.
Like the Kaiser wrote, the woman got him to the Vasquez guy who asked him how he knew about the Kaiser and Vaughn said it was through a mutual friend. Vasquez asked him what he could do for him and Vaughn told him he needed to get to the States as soon as possible. He also told him that he didn't have a Spanish passport and he needed one to get out of there.
"You don't need an Spanish passport, you need an American one." Vasquez told him.
Vasquez, like the Kaiser, was the guy to talk about false identities with perfect backgrounds and sneaky tactics. Vasquez put him inside of a container and on a plane to the states, but not before doing something for that bullet injury.
Vasquez did something to stop the bleeding for sometime and gave him the instructions. Like his other trip through Europe, he wasn't going to travel on a commercial flight, he was going to travel with packages and suitcases and containers. There was going to be a guy when they arrived to the United States.
Vaughn was getting tired of this guy-who-knows-this-guy-who-knows-this- other-guy-who-can-get-you-home-thing. He was tired of everything. He just wanted to get home. It felt like forever since he left India with Sydney. Sydney.
He felt like the strength of his body had been drained away. He felt a burning pain in his abdomen and that made him want to get home even more. He didn't want his mother to be in another family funeral and he had a lot to investigate before dying, like who set him up, who put that man behind him.
He didn't know how he was still alive. He couldn't tell how long since he'd been shot, but he could tell it was more than a day ago. He was pretty sure he had lost a lot of blood.
He was snapped back to reality by the plane landing. He was lucky not to arrive to LAX because he was pretty sure someone would be there waiting for him, but not in the good way. He knew the word that he was still alive had spread out. But he didn't land in LAX; he didn't even land in LA. He was in private airport in Arizona.
"I thought we were going to land in LA!" He exclaimed. "You didn't. You're in Arizona." His contact told him. "I- -I thought we we." He was starting to pull his hair. In any other moment, he would find that scene ridiculous, he, pulling his own hair like a desperate woman. Weiss would make fun of him. "Listen, I have to get to Los Angeles, I have to get there." He sighed. "You know, what? It doesn't matter, I'll get there by myself". He turned and left.
'This is getting old' Vaughn thought. 'I can't keep on going from plane to plane, from car to car, from town to town. I need to talk to Weiss, or Sydney.' He shook his head. 'No, I can't talk to Sydney, they would know everything, they'll know she's a double agent. I better call Weiss, or Kendall, or Devlin." He hid his head between his arms. "I really need to talk to someone."
He struggled to find a paid phone, and when he did, he called Weiss, who'd been at his home recovering from the murder attempt from Irina Derevko. "Eric?" "Mike? Mike where are you? Everyone is looking for you. You disappear th." "Eric, listen to me, I need your help." Vaughn was trying to explain but Weiss always cut him off. "What happened, man?" "It's a long story, I was in India, then I went to Germany on the way back where I saw this guy, and he went after me, Eric, he- he was going to kill me, Eric, he was going to. then I went to Spain, just to get here and- and now I'm." "Okay, okay, slow down, man." Eric told him. "Take a deep breath, and tell me where you are." "I'm in Arizona, somewhere in Arizona." "Okay, let's see. Can you get to the airport?" "I guess so. I'm sick of airports now. I've been in three of them just to get here" "Take a commercial flight. Don't buy the ticket under your name." "I'm not stupid, Eric." "I know, Mike, I know. Take the commercial flight and come to LA. I'll arrange a team to get you here safe, okay? I'll talk to Devlin; you'll be fine. Do you have money? ." "I'll see what I can do." "Okay, call me when you get to the airport." "Okay, thanks"
Vaughn hung up. He had being paranoid all the time, nothing was going to happen. He was going to get to the airport, and he was going to get home, and once there, he'll have to go to a hospital. He had forgotten about the wound.
He got to the airport. He bought a ticket to LA, just like Weiss told him to do. He was looking from side to side to see if he noticed something strange. Maybe the paranoia hadn't gone at all. Not yet. And when he was going to wait, he saw another suspicious man. Walking and approaching him like the guy in Germany, and this time, he didn't know of anyone like the Kaiser to get him out of there. He didn't show the man he had seen him. He just headed to the bathroom a little too fast. He was clutching his arm to his waist to relieve a little the pain. The thought of what that man could do to him when he was in the bathroom sent chills through his spine. He could picture himself with a bullet between his eyes.
But, he didn't go to the men's room; he went to the lady's room. And he was lucky no one was there. He hid there for a little while and then saw an air conditioner duct. He lifted the tile and got in there. Too little space for a too tall man. While waiting to get the ticket he paid attention to the ducts. He could say how much distance was between the bathroom and the exit.
The man following him didn't found him in the bathroom, so he went to the ladies room and saw a blood spot on the floor. Vaughn had been there. While the guy was checking every toilet, Vaughn learned that his calculations had been wrong. He didn't make it outside of the airport. He was still in there, and he saw some strange movements. He could tell for sure the new guys were CIA, but with everything that had happened to him since Germany, he didn't know whom to trust. He had called Eric Weiss, his good friend, and minutes later, one man was after him to finish the job in Germany and a few more were spread in the airport waiting for him to get out to take him God knows where. Better be safe.
He stole someone's coat and wore it over his own. He knew he couldn't lose his coat, because it had the fake identities and the fake passports. And he forgot he also have some money with him. He felt like in a X-Files episode 'trust no one'.
He, again, sneaked out and got into a cab before the others could notice. He asked the driver to take him to the bus station. He would take a bus to somewhere and then he would decide what to do when he got to that somewhere. He needed a plan. He was bailing out of his impending death with no plan, just with starters' luck. He needed to see possible holes and breaches. But, God, how he was tired! He couldn't go on. There was going to be more than 48 hours with no medical attention. Maybe he was like a cat, with 9 lives, or something.
He was just wondering who was behind all this.