Part Four:

I strode down the familiar corridors of the CIA headquarters in LA. I caught the surprised glances of the other agents, but I didn't care. Once again I had changed, but this time I wore a pair of boots, black jeans and a black zip-up jumper. I felt strange because I was not wearing a suit, but I decided I like it. I saw Weiss, but ignored him as I stalked towards Dixon's office.

Both Dixon and Lindsay were there, just as I had hoped. "Sydney..." Dixon began, but I cut him off by holding up the chip.

I looked at Lindsay. "I have the plans for the drone." I said. "If you want them back, get the NSC to release my father immediately."

"Excuse me!" Lindsay snapped. "I won't be blackmailed by a fugitive! Did you really think you could come in here and threaten me?"

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a small blowtorch. "Yes." I said as I lit it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lindsay asked.

"I want it in writing that today is the day Jack Bristow is released from custody." I told him, my tone cold.

Dixon was standing behind Lindsay with his arms crossed – and smirking. I think he was enjoying seeing someone get the better of Robert Lindsay. "Mr. Dixon, talk to her!" Lindsay said desperately.

"I'm addressing you, Mr. Lindsay. I want that get-out-of-jail-free-card for my father or these are gone!"

"This is ridiculous!" Lindsay snapped.

"Mr. Dixon, please provide Mr. Lindsay with a pen."

"I've got my own pen." Lindsay said. "And there's not a chance I'm using it!"

"It's your call." I said. "5..."

"This is insane!" Lindsay yelled.

"...4..."

"Mr. Lindsay, she will destroy those plans." Dixon said to him.

"...3...2...1..." As I counted down, I moved the blowtorch gradually towards the chip, getting closer and closer.

"Fine!" Lindsay agreed, just before the chip touched the flame.

Lindsay glared at means I put away the blowtorch. Dixon handed him a clipboard, trying to hold back a smile. "Thank you." Lindsay muttered.

He started writing, and I couldn't help but rub his nose in it. What can I say? I really didn't like the man. "B...R...I...S...T...O...W." I spelt.

"I know how to spell your name!" he snapped through clenched teeth.

He finished writing the document in silence before handing it to Dixon. "Don't think I'm going to just forget this Miss Bristow!" he said furiously before storming out.

I turned to leave. "Sydney, wait a moment."

I turned back to look at Dixon and he gestured for me to sit down. I did as he sat down behind his desk. For a moment I was struck by the strangeness of the situation. Dixon had always been my partner, my colleague and my friend, but never my boss. Suddenly I wasn't sure how to act around him anymore.

"Sydney," Dixon began. "I know that this situation is tough for you, but I just wanted to make one thing clear. I have to say this as your boss. While I didn't agree with the NSC in regard to the imprisonment of your father, I also don't agree with your methods to free him. I want to know I can trust you to follow orders Sydney, and not go off on your own."

I looked at his serious face and nodded. I had expected something like this. My only hope was to convince Dixon not to pull my clearance. I needed it to figure out what had happened to me. But I felt relieved when Dixon's expression softened. "Get some sleep." He told me and handed me a key and a piece of paper. "It's not much, but the CIA has given you a new apartment, since the last one was destroyed because of your...job. And I'll see you back at work tomorrow morning."

I looked hopefully at him. "Does this mean I can have my old job back?" I asked.

"Yes." Dixon smiled at me. "Welcome back Sydney."

The apartment the CIA had found for me was small, but bright and only two blocks from the beach. I missed my old apartment, but more than that, I missed my friends. My new apartment felt so empty. I spent the afternoon shopping for clothes and food. I had furniture thanks to the CIA, but nothing else. There were no photographs or knickknacks. And when I saw how empty my life had become I finally burst into sobs.

My life was gone. My friends were gone. Will was alive, but I didn't know where he was. I curled up on the couch and cried until dark fell. Everyone in my life had moved on. And Vaughn was married. The tears fell harder as I pictured his handsome face and remembered all the sweet things he used to say to me. All the things we had shared. How could he have got over me like that? I know it was two years, but he had loved me. How could he have moved on so fast?

I cried for Francie, who was dead because of me and the job I did. I cried for all the things she had missed and all the things we could have shared. I cried for Will and the way I had destroyed his life – and almost caused his death. I cried for the pain I had caused my father...and my mother. I cried for all the things I had missed, all the things I could have done.

And then finally I got up and washed my face. I was stronger than this. No matter how many tears I cried, nothing was going to change. The only way I was going to fix my life and move on, was if I did it myself. I was going to find out what happened to my life and deal with whoever was responsible. And if it was Arvin Sloane, I was going to kill him.

I felt too drained and nauseous to eat anything, so I just crawled into my strange bed and curled into a little ball. I tried to convince myself that I was going to get through this, but from here my task looked so big. There were so many things I didn't know. So many problems that I needed to deal with. But gradually my eyes began to droop and I found it hard to focus on my thoughts. I drifted off to sleep with one final thought echoing through my head: I was going to get through this.

I ran down a dark corridor, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt kind of detached from myself. As if this wasn't quite real. I felt the comforting weight of a gun in my hand. I heard pounding footsteps behind me, but I knew I wasn't being chased. Whoever it was, they were working with me. I glanced at the doors on either side of me and watched them counting down.

214. 213. 212. As the numbers got smaller, I felt the urge to run faster. Time was running out. Time for what? I couldn't remember. My brain felt fuzzy and the corridor slipped out of focus. The footsteps behind me faded along with my own and I couldn't hear the sound of my breathing anymore. Vaguely I heard someone yell, "Sydney!" – but I didn't know who.

I jerked upright in bed, the images still fresh in my mind. My breathing was ragged, as if I had been running, and I felt sweat covering my body. What the hell had that been? Were they memories? Or just some kind of weird dream?

I looked at the clock beside my bed, and saw it was 5:30 in the morning. I knew I wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep now, so I might as well get up. As tired as I still was, I got up and threw on some sweats, hoping a run would clear my head. I tied my hair into a plait and grabbed my sunglasses.

The beach was beautiful in the early morning sunlight and the air was fresh and salty. A soft breeze tugged at my hair, trying to pull it from its plait and cooling my hot skin. My feet pounded in a steady rhythm, but none of it helped me relax. Despite all the peace around me, my thoughts were still whirling around my head and my emotions were still in turmoil. Sighing in disgust, I gave up after half an hour and walked back to my apartment.

As I did, I passed other joggers out for an early morning run and envied them. Their lives were probably so simple. They only had to worry about when to pay their bills and meeting their deadlines. They weren't missing two years of their lives. They didn't have to face the fact that the man they loved had gone and married someone else. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it as I opened my front door.

My apartment was as silent as it had been when I had left, and I felt a pang of grief when I began to listen for the sounds of Francie cooking in the kitchen or Will singing in the shower. They weren't here. I was alone. I stripped off my sweats and climbed into the shower. The hot water pounded over me, loosening my tense muscles and soothing me. For a moment reality faded and my worries disappeared. For a moment I was just me.

And then the moment faded. With a heavy heart I shut off the water and climbed out, pushing my wet hair from my face. I wrapped a towel around my hair and padded out of the bathroom, clad only in my underwear. When I walked into my bedroom, I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror in the corner, and stopped dead in my tracks.

I took the towel from my head and let my dark, wet hair cascade over my shoulders. It now hung halfway down my back, at least 3 inches longer than it had been. As if I hadn't cut it since I had disappeared. My body, too, had changed. I hadn't noticed it before, because I had been too preoccupied, but as I stared at myself in the mirror I felt like it was the body of a stranger.

There was the new 3 inch scar near my navel that hadn't been there before. I had a few faint scars on my fist that I hadn't noticed before as well. My body was also harder and leaner than it had been, my muscles more defined. It looked like the body of a woman who had been constantly fighting – or running. Where the hell had I been?

I rubbed a weary hand over my face and blinked. I had to get ready for work. Without interest I finished dressing in a black suit and heels. I wore no jewellery and pulled my hair from my face. I covered up the dark shadows under my eyes as best as I could, but I could do nothing about the haunted look in my eyes.

I tried to eat a piece of toast for breakfast, simply because I needed food, but couldn't manage it. The drive to work passed as a blur as I tried to regain my composure. I sat in my car, staring blankly at the windshield for a long time before I felt I could finally manage to smile and look happy. I didn't want to face my friends and pretend I was coping. Or face Dixon and try and convince him to let me back on field duty again. But I had to. The only other option was giving up. And while it looked very attractive right now, I wasn't going to do that.

I almost turned and walked back outside when I saw who was standing just inside the building. Weiss and Vaughn. I didn't want to face him right now. Too much had happened to me since I had last seen him. I needed time to sort out my feelings. Then I gritted my teeth and lifted my head. No, I didn't need time. I knew how I felt. Rejected and betrayed. Vaughn had lost faith in me...in us.

The two men stopped talking as I approached. Vaughn started towards me and smiled sheepishly at me. I just looked coldly at the man I once believed loved me. "I came by to see how you were." He said.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked incredulous. He came by to see how I was? Bullshit!

Vaughn's smile faded. "No. I just wanted to make sure that you..."

"You didn't come here to see how I am!" I snapped. "You came to see how you are, because you know in your heart that what you did...you want to make sure you're okay!"

I was seething. How could he just give up? Wasn't our love strong enough? Obviously not. My father's words came back to me: "Michael Vaughn is just a boy who was never good enough for you." Maybe he was right.

Vaughn looked stunned at my words. "I buried you! Consider that for what..." he said.

I interrupted him, not being able to stand anymore of his excuses. "Don't use rational thought as a defence with me! Not after all you and I have seen! Vaughn, you and I live and breath madness everyday on the job! There is no rational thought! I can't even pretend to have a conversation about anything else with you. What it comes down to is faith!"

Vaughn tensed at my words, but I didn't care. "What I was hoping you would say is: Sydney, I gave up. I lost faith." I continued. I could feel myself getting more upset and emotional with every word. "But what you came here for was closure! And there is not a chance you are getting that from me."

I felt as if I would start to cry at any moment, but I held back the tears. "I'm not going to understand. I'm not going to sympathize with you, tell you how hard it must be for you! But you want to know how I am?!" I gasped for breath as everything came pouring out. "I am horrible! I am ripped apart!" My voice fell to a strained whisper. "And not because I lost you...but because if it had been me, I would have waited!"

Vaughn blinked slowly several times and swallowed painfully, holding back the tears. I was barely holding back my sobs, but I had to let it all out. "I would have found the truth! I wouldn't have given up on you..." I shot him a look of pure anger. "And now I realise what an absolute waste that would have been!" I said, my voice filled with venom.

And it was true. I would have stopped searching. I would have found the truth. I wouldn't have just accepted it. And it would have been a waste. An absolute waste. Vaughn stood there stunned as I fled, holding back the tears until I found an empty bathroom and cried my heart out for the second time in two days.

Pulling myself together, I did what I always did when things got too much to deal with right now. I could not afford to show weakness, I had to be strong. So I locked my emotions away in the corner of my mind. I carefully repaired my makeup and stood up straight, my chin held high. I was strong. I would get through this.

I'm not sure how I got through the rest of the day. I guess I just focused on what they were telling me. I had a lot of information to catch up on. Two years was a long time. At around lunchtime, Dixon came up to me. "Syd, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

"Sure." I replied, curious as to what he wanted to talk to me about.

We walked into his office and he shut the door. "Syd, you should know that Lindsay is trying to get your father locked up again."

I frowned. "What is he trying to charge him with?"

"The same as last time. He seems to believe your father is still in contact with Irina Derevko."

I nodded. He probably was – I just didn't know. "Why are you telling me this?"

"So you know." Dixon replied. "I'm doing everything I can to block him, but there's only so much I can do."

I nodded again. "Thanks, Dixon." I said. "For everything."

He smiled softly at me. "I just wish I could give you some good news."

I smiled back. "It's okay."

I spent the afternoon with Marshall, going over satellite maps and photographs of Covenant members and current known terrorists. I was just finishing up with the location of all the Covenant outposts known to the CIA, when I saw him. And I forgot everything. Marshall, the maps and the Covenant. All I saw was my father.

I rushed into his arms, exhausted but so happy to see him. He looked just like he always had, his hair cut and his beard gone. I held him tight and he held me just as desperately. "Thank you." He whispered in my ear.

I finally pulled away from him, tears streaming down my face. He smiled at me and cupped my cheek. I gave him a watery smile back. I was feeling so many things. Relief, love, hope, fear...

He leaned towards me. "There's something I need to show you." He whispered. "Not here..."

I nodded at him and saw Dixon standing with Weiss and Lindsay across the room, looking at me. "Go." He mouthed.

I flashed him a grateful smile. "Thank you." I mouthed back.

I turned back to my dad. "Let's go."

Dad drove me to an empty parking garage. He put his laptop on the bonnet of the car and faced me. "Almost a year after your apparent death, I was on an operation. One of the men I was tracking was this man." He said, handing me a photo.

I stared down at the grey haired man in the photo. His blue eyes seemed to stare at me. He looked almost familiar, but not quite. "Adrian Lazarey, Russian diplomat." Dad told me.

"I've never seen him before." I told him.

Dad looked at the computer and pressed a button. I stared at the screen as a black and white video began to play. I saw Lazarey sitting behind a desk. "This was from a hidden camera that I placed in his office." Dad said.

I continued to watch the video as Lazarey got up and approached a tall blonde who had just entered the room. They shook hands and kissed cheeks. As Lazarey walked past the camera, the woman turned so I could see her face. I gasped. It was me!

"This was how I knew you were alive." Dad said. "You don't recall this at all?"

"No..." I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

But that wasn't all. I stared in horror at the screen as I pulled out a knife as soon as Lazarey's back was turned. And then I calmly slit his throat. I gasped. "No..."

On the screen, Lazarey clutched at his throat, blood pouring through his fingers, before slumping to the ground. "Oh my God, Dad..." I began.

"I know, sweetheart." He said, looking at me in sympathy and understanding.

I looked at him in panic. "Do you think they brainwashed me?" I asked. "Did I...did I really kill him?"

My father looked at me. "Yes, Sydney. You did." He said. "I'm sorry..."

Taking a deep breath, I looked at the frozen picture of Lazarey's death. I expected feel soul deep horror at my cold-blooded actions, but I didn't. "You can't be brainwashed." My Dad added softly. "It's a result of your Project Christmas training."

I turned back to look at him and caught his guilty look. "I'm sorry sweetheart." He said.

"It's alright Dad." I said, hugging him again. "I'm actually kind of glad I wasn't brainwashed. That means I'm still me."

My father hugged me back. "You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, Sydney." He said softly. "You'll find the truth."

I smiled at him, touched by his words. But inside I felt torn. "He was unarmed." I said, meaning Lazarey. "Dad, I slit a man's throat in cold blood."

"Your remorse is premature." He said. "Without knowing the circumstances, you can't be sure you didn't have just cause."

I nodded. "If only I could remember..."

"You're memory loss could have been caused by many things." He said. "Some forms of torture, particularly electroconvulsive shock therapy can cause amnesia." I grimaced at the horrible thought. "It also could have been as simple as a blow to the head. There's no way to know until you remember."

"But I will remember?" I asked.

"It's most likely you will, yes." He agreed. "But it will take time."

"Time is something we don't have!" I said, frustrated. "I can't remember for a reason, I can feel it. Someone out there doesn't want me to remember something important. I need to find out what it is."

Dad nodded. "I'll find everything I can about Lazarey. Perhaps that will give us a clue to where you were."

I nodded. "Thanks, Dad." Then I sighed. "I need to think about this."

"I know." Dad said and grabbed his laptop off the bonnet.

We climbed back into the car and drove back across town as the sun set around us. The sky was red by the time we pulled into the CIA parking lot. "How are you feeling?" Dad asked after switching off the motor.

"I'm not sure." I said truthfully. "I need time to sort out my feelings and think about everything. It's so different." I said.

"Just remember, I'm always here for you."

"Thanks, Dad." I said, smiling gratefully at him. "I will."

I kissed him on the cheek and got out of the car. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said.

He nodded at me. "Try to get some sleep."

"I will."

I watched him drive away and sighed. I wanted to go home, but I had to do something first. I had someone to see. Robert Lindsay.

I found the bastard in the men's room. I stood behind him and waited until he turned around. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed when he saw me, spilling water all over his pants.

"I hear you're trying to lock my father away again." I said coolly.

"Who do you think you are?" Lindsay interrupted, outraged.

I continued, ignoring his protests. "I just want you to know, that I won't let that happen again."

"Oh, you do, do you?" he snapped.

"Did I stutter?" I asked.

"You have no right to..." Lindsay began, but I talked right over the top of him.

"I also want you to know that I will take you in here and threaten me like this!" Lindsay finished.

"...every time you threaten him or try to hurt any of my friends!" I said. "I'm not impressed by the fact you play golf with the President. I won't let you do it."

"Did it slip your mind that I am the Director of the National Security Council?" Lindsay snapped. "I could pick up the phone and have you thrown in the same jail cell that your father just vacated! Hell, it's still warm!"

"Do it." I challenged. "Give me an object lesson in the abuse of power. Show me how it's done."

Lindsay looked at me for a moment, not sure what to say, knowing all his bullying and threats wouldn't work on me. He didn't scare me. I had seen far worse than him in the world. "If you're finished...this is the men's room." He finally said, finishing the conversation.

I could resist a parting shot. "Who let you in?" I said, before turning and walking back out to the parking lot. Behind me Lindsay mumbled something and tried to dry his pants. I smiled coldly at the sounds.

I got into my car feeling better. There was nothing like threatening a slimy bastard to make a girl feel good. I slipped on my sunglasses and turned on the radio in an effort to distract myself. As the loud sounds of a rock song poured out of the speakers, I drove back to my empty apartment – and wondered if I would ever be able to call anywhere home again.