Author's Note: I have to apologise to everyone, but our favourite bad guy won't be appearing for a little longer...I know, I'm sorry. But I just felt the need wait until Sydney had found out just how different her life was before Sark comes back and screws it up even more. But he is in this story. Cheeky.
Part Three:

The trip to Paris had been quiet and uneventful. I had kept to myself in a corner of the plane and no one had intruded. No doubt because they didn't trust me. I didn't blame them. I had been missing for two years – who knew what I had been up to? Weiss was now debriefing us before the operation. I was putting on a pair of gloves while I tried to figure out what I was going to do. It was too much to hope I had been there before.

"The object of tonight's mission is to find and retrieve the microchip, and also to acquire any Intel about the organisation known as the 'Covenant', who we believe is in possession of the chip." Weiss was saying. "We've had the building under satellite surveillance. It appears to be abandoned, but there are no guarantees."

Weiss nodded at me. "You've all met Agent Bristow. She was held prisoner in this building. So while I will be leading the operation, we will take into consideration any warnings or insights that Agent Bristow has to offer. Any questions?" he paused, but there were none. "Let's go!" He ordered.

Everyone piled into the waiting van and we took off, heading towards the mission site. Weiss looked at me with concern. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah." I said and flashed him a reassuring smile.

I wasn't. I was still reeling from waking up to a completely different life. And my plan to rescue my father was falling down around my ears. I spent the rest of the ride in tense silence, trying to quite my nerves. As soon as we arrived, we all piled out of the van, with Weiss yelling "Move, move, move!" I looked at the dark warehouse in front of me and took a deep breath. This was it.

"Retriever to base." Weiss was saying into his headset. "We're in position. Any last minute fun?"

"That's good to hear." He said again after a moment.

Then Weiss looked at me. "Hey, any of this look familiar?"

"Not yet." I said flatly.

"Uh, negative." Weiss said into his headset.

Since no one was sure they could trust me, I wore no headset, and had no way of listening to what was going on – and all my replies had to be repeated. I didn't like the feeling of not knowing what was going on.

"Okay guys, her we go." Weiss said. "Let's keep an eye out for trip wires and watch your backs...c'mon."

I followed Weiss as the team split up. We crept through the dark interior of the warehouse, our guns at the ready. "Hey remember this?" Weiss whispered after a moment, as we crept down a dark hallway.

I was spared from answering when I heard Weiss whisper into his headset. "Yeah, go base."

He listened for a moment. "Retriever to team, be on the alert for possible hostiles, quadrant sixteen, heading towards quadrant nine."

Weiss listened again, as I assume Dixon gave him more information. "Team, we now have five possible hostiles." He said. "Let's get ready to engage."

At his words, I tightened my grip on my gun and stretched my senses out even further. We both turned the corner and were suddenly fired on by two dark figures with laser sights attached to their guns.

I ducked back around the corner, Weiss on my heels. "Base, we're under attack. We're under attack!" he said.

Then he turned to me. "Let's split up and take 'em from behind."

"Okay." I agreed.

Weiss fired his gun at the hostiles around the corner. "Go!" he yelled.

I went. I turned and ran back the way we had come, slowing once I had turned the corner. I walked cautiously down the new corridor, my gun in front of me. I heard gunfire in the distance, as other members of the team were attacked.

I soon entered a darkened room that looked like some sort of laboratory. I found a dark figure in the ground and as I moved closer, noticed it was a dead team mate. Suddenly two hostiles burst into the room, shooting and yelling. My instincts took over as I ducked behind a table before returning fire.

As I waited for a pause in the retaliating gunfire, I noticed some large brown bottles on the table beside me and got an idea. I returned fire as I thought about it. I covered my mouth and nose, before throwing two of the bottle at my attackers. There was a loud explosion as they hit the ground – thanks to the sodium. Sodium tends to react violently when mixed with certain other chemicals.

I ran out from my hiding place and escaped out of the lab, heading towards Weiss. I ran down another hallway and almost stopped when I saw a man holding him against the wall, a hand at his throat. The man turned to look at me, as I brought my gun up and I was surprised that he seemed familiar to me. He, too, seemed to recognise me, and acted as if he were surprised to see me here.

I fired at him, but missed him as he dropped Weiss and fled. I ran to were Weiss was slumped against the wall. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah." He said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Go get him."

I didn't need to be told twice. I raced down the hallway and out of the building, only to see a car screeching around the corner, out of sight. "Dammit!" I swore, as I heard someone come up behind me.

I pivoted quickly, my gun coming up, but it was only Weiss. He looked sadly at me and shook his head. "They're dead." He said. "All of them."

I felt a stab of guilt at his words. "Oh my God, Weiss." I said. "If only I'd told the truth, this might not have happened..."

"What are you talking about?" Weiss asked, confused.

"I've never been here before!" I blurted in anguish. Those men were dead because of me. It was all my fault. "The dream I had...I just had to regain the CIA's trust...and now the team's dead..."

"Syd, this operation was on whether you came or not. And if you hadn't, I'd be dead too." Weiss told me.

"I don't know what to do! I..." I babbled. Everything was too much! "Everything's wrong, everything's upside down..."

"Syd, we gotta go home." Weiss broke in.

"I can't go back!" I snapped, suddenly frustrated with the world. "Lindsay hates my father and he doesn't trust me! He wanted results from this operation. He wanted the chip. If I go back after this, he'll pull my clearance and I'll never be able to help my father!"

"What are you thinking?" Weiss asked.

"This was obviously an ambush. Those gunmen work for the Covenant. The one who was going to kill you, I saw his face!" I said, thinking out loud. "If I can make a positive ID, that could lead me to the chip! Leverage!"

It made sense. If I could get my hands on the chip, Lindsay would have my father go. And once my father was out of prison, we could finally figure out what happened to me over the last two years. The only problem was, how was I going to find the chip?

"To do what?" Weiss asked me, incredulous.

I looked at him. "To get my father out of custody! To recover what was stolen from the CIA! To make sure those men didn't die for nothing!" I snapped. "I'm going to need a contact – a freelancer...not with the CIA. Someone with resources. All of my names are two years old."

Weiss looked at me, as if guessing there was nothing he could say to persuade me not to do this. "You're not going to like my suggestion." He said finally. "You should go see Arvin Sloane."

Arvin Sloane. At his name I felt my blood begin to boil. That bastard was still alive? And why the hell would Weiss tell me to see him? Then I felt my face harden. I could almost guarantee that bastard had had something to do with my death.

"What?" I demanded.

"Sloane negotiated a pardon after your...death. He's now a consultant for the CIA." Weiss explained. "He now runs a World Health Organisation in Zurich. Omnifam."

His words hit me like a blow to the gut. I was in shock. They let that bastard work for the CIA? Somehow I didn't think Sloane had suddenly become a good guy. He was up to something. Then I forced those thoughts aside. I had to get that chip. Then I could worry about what Sloane was up to.

"Listen to me." I said to Weiss. "We never had this conversation. After the gunfight I disappeared. You never saw me again."

"Syd, what are you gonna do?" he asked me as I turned and ran off.

"Syd!" he yelled after me, but I ignored him. I had things to do.
I slept through most of the flight to Switzerland. Thanks to my forward planning from two years ago, I had grabbed a changed of clothes, money and a passport from a safety deposit box in Paris. Once in Zurich, it wasn't hard to find Omnifam headquarters. It was a big, modern building near the centre of the city.

I stalked into Sloane's office, right past his surprised secretary. "Excuse me, Miss? Miss you can't go in there!" she called after me, but I ignored her.

I pushed open the door to Sloane's office and spotted Sloane on the balcony, his back to me. He looked just as slimy and arrogant as he always had. I'm not sure if that was a good think or not. Almost as if he sensed me behind him, he turned and saw me...without so much as a look of surprise. As if he were expecting me. As if he knew I wasn't dead.

I stared at him in confusion as he opened the glass door and walked into the room. I felt someone enter the room behind me, but I couldn't stop glaring at the man who had betrayed and hurt me so much.

"It's okay. We're fine." Sloane said with a wave of his hand. Then he turned to me. "Hello Sydney."

I couldn't believe it. That bastard was going to stand there and pretend everything was normal. Like I hadn't been missing for two years and he hadn't betrayed me and his country. Then I forced those thoughts and anger away – or at least tried to. It was hard. I focused on the reason I was here. I had to get information to help my father. Just information.

"There's a group the CIA have targeted." I said, getting straight to the point and refusing to get drawn into his games. "They call themselves the 'Covenant'. They've stolen something I need to get back.

As I was talking, Sloane walked to his desk and picked up a folder. "I've made a visual ID of one of their members. I need to put a name to his face. You're going to help me." I continued.

Sloane walked towards me, the folder still in his hand and a smirk on his face. "Well...you must be in real trouble to come to me for assistance."

He slid the folder across the desk to me, remaining on the opposite side, as if he was not sure what I would do if he came closer. I walked to the desk, picked it up and looked inside. Right on top was a photo of the man I had seen in Paris.

"His name is Gordei Volkov." Sloane told me. "He's a former Russian MVD – a high calss hit man."

Sloane sat down behind his desk, acting calm and collected. But I had noticed his wary glances at me. I got a jolt of surprise. Sloane was nervous – of me. "You just happened to have his file sitting on your desk..." I trailed off.

"I had it because I was expecting you, Sydney. I know you've gone rouge and that your father's being held in solitary. And based on my personal experience with you, I'd say you're looking for a way to win his freedom. Am I right?"

It sickened me to know just how well he knew me. I watched as he got up and walked towards me. "Sydney, just try to remember the bond we had between us, you and I." he continued. "I loved you like a daughter. I loved you. And even you would admit there were times, I would see it in your eyes, you would look at me like I was your f..."

All throughout his speech my anger had been growing. There was no bond between us. I hated him for what he had done to me, my friends and my family. He was responsible for the deaths of so many people close to me. But when he tried to say father, I saw red. I had only one father. His name was Jack Bristow.

Before Sloane could finish his sentence, I grabbed him and slammed him head- first into his desk. I leant over him and grabbed the first weapon I could find: a letter opener. I held it to his throat. "Where the hell have I been the last two years?!" I demanded. "I know it was you! What the hell did you do to me?" My voice was thick with rage and hatred.

But when Sloane answered his tone was cool. "Sydney, do you believe in redemption?"

"Not for you. No."

"We've helped to feed over 3½ million children worldwide. We do research." Sloane said. "Our work on cancer has the potential to save millions of lives, Sydney. So much has changed since you've been gone."

As he was talking, I caught sight of a magazine on his desk. There was a picture of Sloane on the cover. The headline read: 'Arvin Sloane: Rising Angel'. Sloane was a merciless monster who had betrayed everyone he had ever known. He couldn't have he?

I stepped back and let him up. My instincts told me he was hiding something. And that he was still the same old Sloane. And I trusted them.

"Remember the Rambaldi device? The machine designed 500 years ago by a prophet?" Sloane asked me. "All I did was bring all the pieces together and have it assembled. And when I turned it on, it delivered a message, as I suspected it would. I wasn't prepared for what it said. The message was just one word, one simple word: Peace. The epiphany I had at that moment, suddenly I saw all the mistakes I'd made, the pain I had inflicted on the world...the people I loved. So I chose then and there to give information to the CIA with which they were able to dismantle over two dozen terrorist cells."

I raised an eyebrow at him, my face a cold mask. "I don't know how you've convinced the CIA you're trustworthy."

"Why don't you check my files?"

"I know you too well." I said coldly. "I don't buy any of it."

I couldn't stand to be in the same room as him anymore. Sloane was up to the same games he had been up to two years ago. He was just using the CIA to help him and his goals. But I would stop him. And kill him. I turned and walked out of the room and the building, back on the bustling streets of Zurich, before taking a deep breath. Now that I had the information I needed, I just needed to make a phone call.

I found a phone booth and began to call all the contacts I remembered. I tried contacts in England, the US, Paris, Italy and Russia. But they were all gone. Damn it! Finally I found one with my second last number.

"I tried to reach over two dozen contacts; you're the only one still active." I said. "I need help."

"Of course." Said a voice with a thick French accent. "Why else would you be calling?"

"We need to meet. The usual place, 1pm tomorrow." I told him.

"Very well." He said and hung up.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I hung up the phone. Easy. Now all I had to do was get to Paris.
The restaurant was as charming as ever. I always had loved it. But mainly is was quiet. Just the way I wanted it. Sitting across from me was a rather round looking, dark skinned man. My contact. As always he wore an expensive suit and a pair of fashionable glasses. "Thank you for coming." I said.

"Of course." He replied, his accent even thicker than it had been on the phone. "Forgive me if I look shocking to you, but I was believing that you were dead."

"I was." I said. "But now I'm not."

"This is why I love our business." He said, his tone slightly amused.

"I need some information."

"I hope I can help you." My contact said as he took out a cigarette from a slim silver case and put it in his mouth.

"Gordei Volkov." I told him.

My contact stopped dead, his cigarette dangling from his lips and his lighter halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in surprise. Then he finished lighting his cigarette and took a deep drag. He looked at me as he blew out the smoke. "Volkov has a meeting scheduled for tomorrow night in Prague." He said. "I have the address. He's supposed to be delivering something. What it is, I don't know. Perhaps it is your thing."

I nodded slowly, processing the information. Then I smiled as an idea formed in my head. "Do you know what he drives?" I asked.

"A sedan...armoured, of course. With a protective detail." He looked at me. "Sydney, if you want to stop that car, you will need uh...backup."

"No. I don't."

He looked at me in surprise. "But I will need clothes." I told him, my tone matter of fact. I had a plan.
Another flight later, I was in Prague. I was tired and worn down, but kept on going. I gave a small smile when I thought of all those frequent flyer miles. I used the money I had to rent myself a car and drove to a safe house I kept in the city. I was grateful for the chance to have a shower and get some sleep. I managed to catch a few hours, but my eyes still felt gritty. I focused on the task at hand, trying to keep my mind of what had happened to me.

I walked out of the steamy bathroom towards the bed, and felt a small shiver of anticipation. I always felt that before a mission, and in some ways I was relieved it was still the same. A smile touched my face as I got ready. I slipped into a tight, flame red dress and a pair of stilettos. I added heavy makeup and a short auburn wig. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a large gun into my purse. My smile turned cold. I was ready.

The setting sun bathed the wet alleyway in a golden light. I glanced at my watch as I stood by a large puddle. As the sky darkened around me, I heard a car coming towards me. I smiled, slipped off my sunglasses and walked up the street with a confidant swagger. A grey sedan turned the corner into the alley and I saw four men inside.

Calmly, as the car sped towards me, I saw Volkov in the front passenger seat. He spoke to the driver when he saw me, and the car stopped. But he didn't recognise me. I smiled coyly at him and he smiled back. Then I pulled out my gun, aimed and pulled the trigger. The car exploded in a ball of flame.

I walked towards the wreckage and noticed Volkov lying sprawled on the ground beside it. He had tried to jump out of the car, but he hadn't been fast enough. I smiled coldly as I bent and rifled through his pockets. My hand touched a cool metal box in one of his pockets and I pulled it out. I opened it and grinned. The chip. I put the chip carefully into my purse along with my gun and drew out a pair of handcuffs. I suppose I had better take Volkov back too. Maybe the CIA could get some information out of him.

But before I could handcuff him, he surged to his feet, obviously awake. He swung at me with a punch, obviously not expecting me to fight back. He looked surprised when I blocked and kicked him in the stomach. He staggered backwards as I swung again with a roundhouse kick, but managed to block it, throwing me slightly off balance.

He darted in with a kick and I retreated, before spinning around with a punch-kick combination that sent him reeling again. He backed up to the wall of the alley and waited, his hand rubbing his jaw where I had hit him before. I came at him again, trying to knock him out when he whipped out a knife and grabbed my by the neck in a lightening fast move. I felt the cold metal press against my throat.

Volkov nuzzled my ear, seemingly turned on by our fight. I scowled. He was scum. Taking my opportunity, I grabbed his wrist and wrenching the knife away from my neck, before elbowing him in the face and spinning away. Before he could turn and come at me again, I gave him a hard kick to the back, putting all my anger and frustration into it.

Volkov slammed into the wall and sank to the ground. I looked at him, slightly surprised by his reaction...and noticed the knife protruding from his abdomen. I can't say that I really cared. As the blood grew on the concrete below him, I turned and walked back to the red Ferrari I had driven in earlier. As I drove past Volkov, he fell face down onto the ground, his eyes glassy and lifeless. I sped up and headed towards the safe house. It was time to go back...I couldn't really call it home anymore. I had to get dad out of prison.