Part Seven:

The day dawned the same as all the others...bright and sunny, with me feeling exhausted, drained and twisted up inside. I couldn't eat anything for breakfast, I simply felt too nauseous. So instead, I drank a cup of coffee and went to work.

The morning was fairly ordinary and boring as I typed up my report for the previous mission. Unfortunately, though, Weiss had heard what the doctor had said and kept coming over to make sure I was okay. It was beginning to get on my nerves...along with the mixed stares I was getting from everyone else. Vaughn and Weiss were concerned, Mackenzie and Larson gazed at me with barely disguised suspicion and Lauren with sympathy. I didn't need their concern and sympathy. I just needed to be left alone so I could figure out what was going on in my life.

My dad stopped by my desk around lunch. "Sydney." He greeted.

"Dad." I said, grateful for the distraction.

I felt his gaze looking me up and down. "You're not eating." He said, softly. "Sydney..."

"Don't, Dad." I said just as softly. "Please. I know. I just can't eat. Or sleep."

Something of what I was feeling must have shown on my face, because my dad's expression softened. "All right. I won't press." He said.

I smiled at him. "Thank you." I said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Not yet." I said. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't. I'm sorry."

My dad gave one of his rare smiles. I've always loved the way it makes his eyes light up, making them so warm. "Don't be sorry." He told me. "I know better than anyone that sometimes you need to sort through everything before you can tell anyone else."

I knew what he meant. Mom's betrayal has been a blow that I don't think my dad has ever gotten over, or ever will. He truly loved her, and I think he still does. "Well, how about lunch then?" he asked, changing the subject.

I shot him a glance. "Lunch?" I repeated, a little surprised. Dad hardly ever goes out to lunch...he's more the workaholic type. He's even worse than me.

"Yes." He confirmed. "Customarily it's the meal you eat after breakfast, but before dinner."

I couldn't help it. Dad's comment startled a short laugh out of me. "All right." I said, getting up and grabbing my purse and coat. "Where are we going?"

"Feel like Italian?" he asked as we walked through the office.

I saw a few people give us startled looks. I guess we didn't really do something like this very often. But I never doubted that my father would be there for me, if I ever needed him. Despite his flaws, I knew he would do anything he could to keep my safe and happy.

"Not really." I replied. "Chinese?"

My father shook his head. "I had that for dinner last night."

"You've got to stop living off take away, Dad." I said.

He shot me an amused glance. "Oh?" he asked.

"Hey, I'm your daughter." I said. "I get to be concerned too."

He smiled softly at me again. "Yes, I guess you do." He said.

We eventually decided on a small outdoor café near the office. We sat outside, shaded slightly by a tree. I picked at my salad, while my dad and I talked lightly about the last two years. I knew my father was trying to help me take my mind of my problems, but it just wasn't working. I just couldn't get away from them.

"Don't worry Sydney," Dad said, pushing aside his plate. "You'll get through this. You're a fighter. You will find out what happened."

I looked at Dad, and saw his concerned gaze, as if he knew the doubts I had. His simple words of reassurance comforted me more than any of the others. I couldn't help but smile at his faith in me. It was so wonderful to find someone who had no doubt I would get through this and be stronger for it. It bolstered my own hope. Dad was right. I would get through this. And I told him so.

"You're right Dad."

He nodded. "Of course I am."

I raised an eyebrow at that. And my father did the strangest thing. It was all I could do to stop my mouth falling open. He winked at me. He winked at me. My father, who many thought was made of stone. As I continued to stare at him, my father called for the check.

We got up to leave, and strolled slowly back to the office. We were both reluctant to return, to spoil the almost carefree mood of lunch. It had been a long time since I had talked to my father like this, and I didn't want it to end.

"I wanted to thank you for getting me out of prison." Dad said, as we walked into the CIA building. "Not many people I know could have done that."

I looked at him. "You're my father. I couldn't do anything less."

"I'm still grateful." My father said. "Although, I would have loved to have seen Lindsay's face when you threatened him."

I smiled at the memory. "It was pretty funny, now." I said, as we entered a waiting elevator.

"He's never liked me." Dad said. "But I can't say I've been friendly to him, exactly."

I grinned at the thought of my dad being friendly to a arrogant prick like Robert Lindsay. "Well, he is a bit of an ass." I said.

My father added a few of his own pithy, less-than-flattering comments about Lindsay. I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. I know my dad doesn't show it, but he has always had a sly sense of humour.

I don't know what shocked everyone more. The fact that I was laughing as I stepped out of the elevator, or that my father was grinning. But either way, we were greeted by shocked faces – including Vaughn's. I'm not sure what I felt about that. For some reason, I got the feeling that despite everything, Vaughn expected me to stay unhappy.

I know he didn't want my life to stay so messed up – but I get the feeling I was supposed to be upset about not having him as my boyfriend anymore. He always seemed so shocked when I laughed or smiled. It was very weird.

"I'll talk to you later, Sydney." My father said, completely ignoring everyone's reaction. "I have some paperwork that isn't going to go away."

I smiled at him. "I've got some of that myself. Thanks for lunch."

My father gave me one last smile before walking away. I headed back to my desk, reluctant to get back to all the paperwork. Weiss saw me, and came wandering over. "Seems like you're getting on better with your father these days." He said.

"Yeah." I said. "We are."

He smiled. "I'm glad for you." He said. "I just came to tell you that Dixon's called a briefing in an hour."

"Thanks." I replied.

"No problem." He said and left me to get back to my paperwork.

I wondered what it was about. I hadn't heard anything around the office, so I figured it was probably something to do with the Hoffmann's disk. I felt a small shiver of anticipation. I hadn't realised how much I looked forward to my missions these days. Although I think it was just because I could get away from my problems, rather than anything else...except, I'm not exactly going to be sad when we finally destroy the Covenant.

An hour later, everyone was sitting in the conference room once again. Dixon walked in, looking slightly harried, and I wondered what was up. I didn't have much time to wonder, because Dixon got straight to the point.

"Two hours ago, we finished decoding and analysing the disk that Agents Bristow and Weiss retrieved from Spain." Dixon began. "It contained a lot of useful information about the Covenant – as well as surprising development. As well as grabbing as much power as possible over the past two years, after the collapse of the Alliance and K-Directorate, the Covenant has also set up an infrastructure of information gathering. They have brought together some of the most devout Rambaldi followers and as a result, they currently have ten out of the fifteen still missing Rambaldi artefacts."

Dad looked at Dixon and took over. "We have discovered that the Covenant have set up a meeting with this man," He said, indicating the picture on the screen behind him. "Philippe Trevallyn. French mercenary and Rambaldi follower. He is responsible for transporting the last Rambaldi artefact to the Covenant ."

I stared at the photo of Trevallyn. He was in his early thirties, with muddy brown hair and dark eyes. He didn't look that dangerous, but I knew for a fact that he was. "Trevallyn has never met the Covenant agents he's to meet with to hand the artefact over. So the plan is to apprehend the Covenant agents and send Agents Bristow and Vaughn in their place." Dad continued.

"Agent Weiss, you'll coordinate the apprehension of Andreas Caplan and Monique Lee. Sydney, Vaughn, you'll attend the meeting in their place. We need you to retrieve the artefact." Dixon said. "Marshall will brief you on your identities and optech. You leave in an hour."

We all got up to leave. I was kind of glad to have a mission to concentrate on. I'm not sure I had quite accepted the whole situation with Sark yet, and it was making me a little crazy. It just seemed to strange. "Weiss, Mackenzie, will you stay behind for a moment?" Dixon asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I left the room, as Weiss and Mackenzie hung back, no doubt going to plan their intercept of the Covenant agents. "Good luck." My father said from beside me, as I saw Vaughn approach.

"Thanks." I said, as he left and Vaughn walked up.

"Hey, Syd." He said. It felt weird for him to be calling my Syd again, but in light of the fact I was going on my next mission with him, I didn't say anything.

"Hi." I greeted.

"Shall we go and see Marshall?" he asked.

"Sure." I replied.

We walked towards Marshall's office in silence, neither of us knowing quite what to say. "Are you okay working with me again?" Vaughn finally asked.

I turned to look at him. "Of course." I said. "Why would I have a problem?"

"Well, we weren't exactly on the best of terms a while ago."

I winced slightly at the memory. "Sorry." I said.

"It's fine." Vaughn said.

He would have said something else then, I think, but before he could Marshall came bustling out of his office and spotted us. We spent the next half an hour going over our identities and optech, with more intel to read on the plane, and Vaughn never got a chance to say whatever he had wanted to.

The flight to Hamburg, Germany – where the meeting was being held – was long and rather boring. I had finished memorising all the information about Monique Lee halfway through the flight, leaving me with nothing to do but sleep.

I curled up towards the back of the plane, the only sound being the odd tap of a key or shuffle of papers as Vaughn finished reading all his information. I lay down and let my tired body rest. I must confess, I haven't slept well in days, and it wasn't long before the dull sound of the plane's engines lulled me into sleep.

Once again, I felt myself running down the corridor. I felt the same feeling of separation as before, as if I wasn't quite there. The numbers flew past, counting down, but this time I found the door I was looking for. 210. I flung open the door and felt my grip tighten on the gun I carried.

I was vaguely aware of a figure leaping out at me. Suddenly I felt a sharp and burning pain in my abdomen and looked down in horror at the large knife protruding from beside my bellybutton. My hand came away, red with blood.

My gun fell from my slack grip, as I staggered slightly, my body on fire with pain. "Sydney!" a familiar voice roared, fear evident in his tone. I knew this was the man who had been running behind me, my partner, but for some reason, I couldn't remember his name.

I heard gunshots, but they were muffled and my vision blurred. Suddenly strong arms were around me, catching me as I fell. "Hold on, Sydney." The familiar male voice said again. "Please, love. Hold on."

I sat bolt upright with a gasp, Vaughn's concerned gaze hovering in front of me. "Syd, are you okay?" he asked. "You were struggling."

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. "Yeah." I said. "It was just a nightmare."

"Are you sure?" Vaughn pressed.

I forced myself to smile. "I'm fine. Really."

"Okay." Vaughn still looked doubtful, but he retreated back to his seat.

Once he was gone, I took another shaky breath and shivered. My hand was still pressed again my jumper, directly above my scar. And my scar still burned like fire. I raised the edge of my sweater up, tracing my scar with a finger and shivered again. I had lied to Vaughn. I wasn't fine. I was a long way from fine. Because that hadn't been a nightmare. It had been a memory. I was sure of it.

And I knew with shaking certainty that it was the memory of how I got my mysterious scar. A memory of my stabbing. I shuddered again, scared. Who was the shadowy figure who had stabbed me? And more importantly, whose arms had cradled me and who had called out my name? Who was this shadowy man I trusted so much?

I could find no answers to my questions, and after a while I sighed in frustration. It seemed there was nothing more I could do to help these dreams make sense...now, anyway. I'd talk to Marshall and my father about them when I got back. The rest of the flight was uneventful as I focused on the mission. I would worry about the rest when it was over.

Evening was falling and there was a chill in the air. Vaughn and I stood in front of our dark rented car. We were standing on an empty airstrip on the outskirts of Hamburg, Germany. I was dressed like a mercenary, in boots, jeans and a black turtleneck sweater under a leather jacket. I also wore a wig of long, straight black hair. I felt the cool metal of my gun against my skin at the small of my back, where I had shoved it into my waistband, under the jacket. Vaughn stood a few feet away, dressed similar to me.

As we watched, small lights came on along the runway, and I could hear the distant throbbing of a plane engine. Vaughn and I stayed where we were as the sound got louder, finally roaring overhead as it came in to land. It was only a small plane, but expensive and well maintained.

The plane taxied to a stop and the door opened. A man jumped out, followed by a second. I recognised the second man as Philippe Trevallyn. He walked over to us. "You must be the Covenant representatives." He said with a faint French accent.

"We are." Vaughn said. "Andreas Caplan and Monique Lee."

"Do you have it?" I asked.

Trevallyn waved the other man forward, and I noticed he carried a case. The man opened it and swung it round, revealing the artefact we had come to retrieve. I recognised it from the photos Marshall had shown me.

I walked forward, towards the man with the case. "The Covenant thanks you." Vaughn said, as I retrieved the case.

By now I was so taunt, I felt like I would snap. Surely it couldn't be this easy? Nothing was this easy in my life. Something always went wrong. And something did. But I can't say it surprised me. I was ready for it.

Just as I was putting the case containing the artefact into the rented car, Trevallyn's cell phone rang. He answered quietly, walking away from us and back towards the plane. I think, up until that moment, he had thought we had finished business. He was halfway to the plane by the time he had finished his conversation.

Instead of getting into the plane like I had expected, Trevallyn turned. "Oh, Miss Lee?" he called. "I have something else for you."

I shot Vaughn a glance that told him to stay were he was, near the driver's door, and walked forward to meet Trevallyn. "What is it?" I asked when I got to him.

"Some more information." He said. "I left it on the plane."

Wary, I followed him to the plane and watched him climb inside. Then suddenly there was a gun in his hand – pointed directly at me. I stood there for a second, ready to flee, but there was no cover. As if sensing this, the other man pressed a gun barrel into my back. I knew from the way they held the guns that Vaughn wouldn't be able see them.

"Get in the plane." Trevallyn snapped.

Carefully keeping my hands in full view, I climbed into the case and Trevallyn followed. "Keep your hands were I can see them!" Trevallyn said went I made to drop them.

I did as he asked, suppressing a shiver of fear. "Why are you doing this?" I asked Trevallyn.

"Why?" he repeated. "Because I know who you are, Miss Thorne. And I also know the Covenant want you back."

"Miss Thorne?" I said. The name didn't mean anything to me...did it? Suddenly I was struck by a feeling of familiarity and decided to fish for information. "I don't know who you are talking about. But I am not this Miss Thorne you seem to think I am."

"No?" Trevallyn asked. "So you're not Julia Thorne?"

"No."

"Then I'll just kill you. Because whoever you are, you are not Covenant."

I swallowed as Trevallyn brought his gun up to aim at my chest, but didn't hesitate. I couldn't afford to. I kicked his gun out of his hand with a sharp roundhouse, and followed up to a spinning kick to the head. Trevallyn staggered backwards, blinking groggily, and I took my opportunity. I ran past Trevallyn, and burst out of the plane and past the other man.

The man looked surprised – I caught his expression as I sprinted past. He opened fire, but I was already too far ahead. Trevallyn joined in as I raced away. Vaughn had reacted as soon as he heard the gunshots, and he screeched to a halt in front of me. I leapt into the car, and Vaughn roared away, even before I had a chance to close the door.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

"I'm fine." I said, as we disappeared out of sight of the airstrip. "Let's just go home."

I sighed with tiredness as I walked in the door to my apartment. I dumped my jacket and bag on the couch and slumped down next to them, exhausted – both physically and mentally. What was going on? I had told Dad about Trevallyn calling me Julia Thorne, but Dad thought it was probably a case of mistaken identity. I didn't think so. The name sounded too familiar.

I was about to get up and have a shower, when I was startled out of my sleepy mood by the ringing of the phone. I picked up the phone from the table beside me, and was startled to hear the ring tone...and the ringing kept going. What the hell..? Then I remembered. The mobile that Dixon had given me.

Sark.

Just what I needed. A friendly phone call from the local cold blooded psychopath. What a wonderful way to end the day. Reluctantly, I dug the silver phone out of my handbag and answered it. "Hello?"

"Agent Bristow." Said a familiar voice with a British accent. "Meet me at the pier. Half an hour."

The phone went dead before I could reply.

So what else could I do? I went to the pier. Sark looked just like I remembered, even leaning up against the pier railing. Same Armani suit, tailored to perfection. Same cold blue eyes. Same tousled blonde hair, even if it was a bit shorter now.

"Sark." I said as I stepped up to the railing beside him.

"Agent Bristow." He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the dark water. "You'll have to forgive the location, but I thought it was fitting."

I'll just bet he did. He probably got some sadistic pleasure from meeting me in the same place I used to meet Vaughn when I was a double agent.

"No games." I snapped, harsher than I had intended. "Do you have the information?"

"What, no: how are you? No sarcastic comebacks?" he said. "I'm rather disappointed actually. I mean, you didn't even call me an arrogant bastard."

Suddenly I smiled and let out a soft laugh. I couldn't help it. Sark sounded just the same. Cocky, sarcastic and like he knew something you didn't – which he probably did. It was just such a relief to find there was one thing in my life that hadn't changed.

I glanced at him and saw the stunned expression on my face at my unexpected response. "Glad to see some things haven't changed." I said. "You're still the same cocky son-of-a-bitch I remember."

"Happy to help." He said. "So you don't remember anything of the last two years?"

"No...nothing." Was that really a hint of sadness in his voice?

"I didn't really want to believe it." He said.

We stood there for a moment in silence, before he spoke again. "All the recent information I was able to obtain is on a disk between the railing and the pillar on your right. I included everything I could find about you for the last two years."

"Thank you." I said, surprised that Sark would do such a thing.

"I'll let you know the details of my next mission."

"Fine."

"Well, Agent Bristow. It was so nice to catch up." He said finally, disdain clear in his voice.

"The displeasure was all mine." I shot back.

He chuckled softly, before walking away. I waited a few minutes before retrieving the disk, watching the lights dance on the inky water.