Part Nine:

The music was tasteful and the surrounds luxurious – just as one would expect at one of these types of parties. I took a sip of champagne and felt the bubbles tickle my throat. I was standing near the entrance to the ballroom, not even needing to feign a bored expression.

I was wearing a tight, short black cocktail dress and stilettos, with a large amount of cleavage showing thanks to the low cut neckline and a really good push up bra. My platinum blonde wig was done up in a messy twist, curls loose around my face. I really did look like a blonde bimbo – but a rich blonde bimbo thanks to the diamonds at my wrist and ears.

"Are you enjoying yourself, honey?" Sark asked, emphasising the nickname as he came up behind me.

I pouted, playing to my role and hating the way I felt both comfortable and apprehensive around Sark. I still couldn't help by remember the memory every time I saw him. Bloody hell, it was weird.

"No." I said in an outrageous southern accent. "No one will talk to me, darlin'."

He chuckled at my accent. "Then let me introduce you." He said.

Taking my arm, we began to move around the room, trying to look just like everyone else – something Sark appeared to have no trouble doing. I tried to appear as dumb and vain as possible, while Sark did a credible imitation of a boorish playboy.

Around an hour later, just as I felt ready to scream with the boring conversations and tension at being this close to my sworn enemy, Sark leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'm going to find and disable the security system."

"Okay." I nodded, his voice in my ear doing funny things to my stomach.

I stood around, waiting for him to come back, completely bored and just wanting to leave. It hadn't been a challenge to gain entry to the party and would be hard to gain access to the mainframe. The lack of challenge had taken some of the excitement out of the mission, for me. I suspect it was the same for Sark. We were alike that way.

I glanced up as I heard footsteps approach. "Good evening." Said the tall, well dressed man in front of me.

I recognised him as our host, Raphael Bennetti. "Hi." I said, almost flirtatiously. Once again, I sounded like a southern belle. "I just wanted to say, Mr. Bennetti, that your party is simply wonderful."

"Please, call me Raphe." He said. "And you don't need to pretend you're not bored, Miss..?"

"St. James. But call me Kitty. Everyone else does!" I giggled. "And, really, I wasn't bored. Just lacking in company."

"Yes, I wondered where your distinguished date was."

"Oh, Marc?" I shot him a glance and noticed most of his attention was on my cleavage. I hate men like that. "He's around somewhere." I said, vaguely waving my hand at the party, my diamonds winking in the light.

I still didn't know where Sark had gotten them, but I knew they had been very expensive. Only expensive diamonds glittered like that.

"Can I get you a glass of champagne?" Bennetti asked.

"Oh, yes please Mr...I mean, Raphe." I said, smiling somewhat shyly and shooting him a flirtatious glance. "I just love the way the bubbles tickle!"

Bennetti smiled slightly and grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing tray. He handed me one and shot me what I could only assume was meant to be a seductive look. "To pleasant company." He said, raising his glass slightly.

I giggled again, raising my glass in return and hoping Sark would get back soon. Now that was something I didn't think I'd ever feel. But as they say, its better the devil you know, and I knew Sark.

"Now, Kitty." Bennetti said. "I'd be delighted to introduce you to some of the others, if you'd like."

"You mean all Marc's business friends?" I said, wrinkling my nose in feigned disgust. Where the hell was Sark?

"You don't like them?"

"They're just so boring!" I said.

I took a sip of champagne and looked around the room, but I couldn't see Sark. Then, suddenly, I heard his voice behind me. "Darling, there you are. I've been looking everywhere."

I turned to see him striding towards us. "Mr. Bennetti." He greeted.

The two men eyed each other for a moment, until Bennetti smiled graciously. "Mr. Trent. If you'll excuse me..?"

Sark nodded and Bennetti left. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he saw my expression. "I don't like that man." I growled.

Sark smirked. "You can hurt him later. Right now we need to check the mainframe."

I nodded. "Then let's do it."

I followed Sark as he moved quickly across the room and slipped into a darkened corridor. Once we were out of sight, I put my hand on Sark's arm, making him stop. Quickly, I slipped out of my stilettos, and carried them in my hand. I wasn't stupid. I couldn't run in the things, not without twisting or breaking an ankle, and they're not the quietest of shoes.

I continued to follow Sark down the corridor on my, now silent, bare feet. The room containing the mainframe wasn't hard to find, and the guards patrolling the corridors were just disappearing out of sight as I peered around the corridor. We slipped into the room, and I shut the door.

Sark, now wearing a pair of leather gloves (to hide his fingerprints, I assumed), sat down at the computer and started typing. He needed to complete his mission (and counter mission) before I could access the system...but I felt a growing feeling of impatience. I almost felt like dragging Sark away from the computer, just so I could find the information I craved. But I forced myself to take a deep breath. I had waited this long for the information...I could wait a few more minutes.

A few seconds later, Sark got up and handed me another pair of leather gloves. "Your turn." He said.

Some of my relief must have shown on my face, because Sark gave me an amused glance. I snatched the gloves out of his hand and sat down at the computer. Doing a quick search of the files, I noticed a few that looked promising. "Sark?" I asked. "How long have we got?"

"Ten minutes." He said, knowing that I meant how long we had until the security system came back online.

I read the few files I located, and found another clue – an address in Rome for one Julia Thorne. I grabbed a pen and paper from nearby and quickly jotted it down. I then carefully folded the paper and shoved it in the small bag I was carrying.

As I did, I suddenly got a bad feeling. I looked at Sark, who was standing by the door. He wasn't pointing a gun at me, or trying to hurt of kill me in any way I could see, so I glanced back at the computer screen. But, just to be safe, my hand slid into my bag and drew out my gun. Its comforting weight reassured me as I slid it onto my lap.

It was just as well I did, because it was at that moment that Bennetti burst through the door with two goons in tow. He pointed a gun at me. "Hands where I can see them!" he snapped at me.

I eyed the three guns pointed in my direction and slowly raised my hands into the air. I felt a small shiver of fear as I did, and swallowed nervously. "I though you looked familiar...Julia." Bennetti said.

Well, damn. They thought I was Julia Thorne. At least they didn't realise I was CIA...we were CIA. Bloody hell, but it was weird thinking of Sark as CIA. But he was. Technically.

"And I suppose your 'date' would be the famous Mr. Sark?" Bennetti continued. "Where is he?"

It was at that moment that Sark chose to act. I can't say he didn't have a flair for the dramatic. From where he stood in the shadows behind the door, he stepped forward and shot the two goons, knocking the door shut in the process. Bennetti's attention focused momentarily on the attack on the attack behind him and I moved.

By the time Bennetti focused back on me, I was standing up, my gun trained on him. He looked at me in surprise, as if not expecting to see the gun in my hand. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, after Sark hit him on the temple with the butt of his gun.

"Time to leave." He told me.

I nodded, before ducking back quickly to grab the address I had found earlier. I left the handbag and stilettos where they were, not needing them anymore. Just before I ran out the room, I yanked off my blonde wig and let my brown locks tumble free. They already knew who I was – I didn't need it. And, besides, not matter how much I wore them, I hated the way the wig itched.

I followed Sark down the corridor, moving in the opposite direction of the ballroom. Sark shot me a glance and raised an eyebrow in amusement when he saw me, his mouth curving into a half-smile. What he saw, I could only imagine. Barefoot and clad only in a tight black dress, my hair falling in tangles over my shoulders and a gun in my leather gloved hands.

He motioned me through a series of rooms, and I went, surprising myself at my almost complete trust of Sark – and my lack of doubt at his willingness to watch my back. It was very weird...but it felt right somehow.

We encountered no guards, which I found strange, but I shrugged it off, focusing on how Sark and I were going to get out. I shouldn't have worried, though, because Sark knew a back way out. I suppose a man like him doesn't survive very long without always having an escape plan.

We slipped out of a terrace door into the chill autumn evening, just around the corner from the main drive. The drive, unfortunately however, was now patrolled by three guards armed with automatics.

I snuck a glance around the corner, trying not to shiver and feeling the damp dirt beneath my bare feet. I looked at Sark and raised an eyebrow. "Wait for my signal." Was all that Sark said, before disappearing into the shadows.

Not having much of a choice, I did as I was told – not liking it one bit. I watched tensely as Sark crept along the bordering garden bed, hidden by some trees, until he was directly opposite the area where the cars were parked. He turned back to look at me, before he broke cover, firing as he went.

Cursing loudly, I pivoted around the corner, aiming for the nearest guard. I shot him and ducked back behind the corner. Bullets thudded into the brick wall where I had just been, blowing sharp pieces of stone all over. I winced as one of them hit my arm, and drew back a little further.

I heard more gunfire, this time in a different direction, followed by Sark's answering shots. I ducked back around the corner, firing again, just as I heard a shout and more gunfire coming from the front of the house. Shit! I cursed aloud and felt a shiver of absolute fear as my clip ran out.

I spun, sprinting back around the corner, my mind racing. I felt the bullets hit the path behind me as I ducked back under cover. Breathlessly, I thanked God that I had thought to carry an extra clip or two with me. I ejected the empty clip, and it fell with a dull thud to the dirt at my feet. I could hear the gunfire getting closer and closer, and felt my muscles tensing in fear.

I forced myself to breathe, slowly and deeply, and focus on my task. I grabbed a new clip from where it was held against my thigh by a garter and hidden by my skirt. It was warm to the touch, I noticed absently, as I shoved it home. I chambered a bullet in a practiced motion, before taking off.

Rapid gunfire thudded into the wall where I had just stood, and followed me as I darted into the shadows of the trees lining the drive. I dodged in and out, the bullets close on my heels, not even daring to pause long enough to shoot back.

"Sydney!" I heard a voice call out as tyres skidded in gravel.

I swerved, sprinting out across the drive, trying to ignore the sting of the gravel biting into my bare feet. I dived into the car as Sark gunned the engine, roaring off before I even had a chance to shut the door. Ahead of us, the wrought iron gates were closing and I held my breath as Sark accelerated, roaring through the gap with millimetres to spare on either side. We skidded onto the road and roared off into the night.

I took a deep breath and let out a low, throaty laugh, the adrenaline still surging through my veins. This was the part of my job I loved – the feeling of triumphant ecstasy that I got after every successful mission. I stretched like a cat, noticing for the first time I still wore both the diamonds and gloves Sark had given me. I slipped them off, placing them in the bag at my feet.

"That was close." I said.

"Unfortunately, it's not over yet." Sark replied.

I followed his glance to the rear view mirror, just as I heard gunfire behind us. I ducked instinctively, reaching for my gun. We were being followed. Then I gave a feral smile. I would fix it. I opened the window at my side as Sark accelerated. I ducked as more bullets raked the car, before leaning out the window and letting off a few answering shots.

"Shit!" I cursed as I ducked back into the car, twisting in my seat to keep an eye on our pursuers. "There are two cars!"

Sark gave me a wry smile, his gaze flicking from the rear view mirror to the road ahead. "So I see." He said.

I leaned out the window again, the cold air whipping at my hair and numbing my skin. I emptied the clip at the car, aiming for the driver. The car swerved violently when I hit him. Unfortunately, the man in the passenger seat was fast and clever. I saw him kick the driver's body from the car and take over.

"Bloody hell." I said and ducked back into the car.

I grabbed the second clip from my garter and finally noticed where we were headed. Sark was driving up into the Swiss Alps, obviously hoping to lose our pursuers on the narrow, winding roads. I paused for a second, listening to the bullets hitting the back of the car and my gaze was drawn to the grey, icy river below the cliff on which we drove, our tyre centimetres from the edge.

I dragged my thoughts back to the problem at hand and reloaded my gun. This time I managed to hit the driver with my first shot and car smashed into the rock wall on the opposite side of the road to the cliff and the river beneath. I watched in almost horrified fascination as, seconds later, the second car smashed through the wreckage.

I leaned out the window and emptied my clip at the second car, but didn't do any major damage. I drew back into the car in search of another clip, and it was at that moment that the other car opened fire – but at our tyres. The driver's side tyre blew with a sound reminiscent of a gunshot. I really don't think it wouldn't have done so much, if it hadn't been for what happened next.

The car swerved sharply to the left, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Sark tugged the wheel, but our pursuers let out another volley of shots. One of the bullets hit Sark in the shoulder. He gasped in pain, his grip momentarily relaxing on the wheel. And a moment was all it took. The car veered to the left and plunged over the cliff with a painful jerk. My head smashed against the windscreen. Pain blossomed in my skull, sharp and throbbing. I was vaguely aware of a feeling of falling and the grey river rushing up to meet me as the world faded black.

I woke up with a jerk at the touch of icy water. I gasped and struggled, my head pounding. I watched in horror as icy grey water poured into the car from the shattered back window and my open side window. The car was filling fast.

I shivered with cold as my breathing quickened and panic twisted in my gut. I struggled frantically for a second, before I forced myself to focus. I looked at Sark , who lay unconscious at the wheel, blood tinting the water around him. As the level of water hit my chest, I felt the panic fight to rise again, but I ruthlessly suppressed it. My muscles were knotted with tension and everything in me screamed to 'Get out! GET OUT!'

A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over me, the pain blinding. I groaned as it faded, feeling the water surge around my throat. Blood trickled hotly down my forehead and my body felt like ice. I took another shuddering breath and forced myself to move. I glanced at Sark again and took a deep breath, ducking down into the freezing water.

I blinked vainly in the dark and murky water, but could see nothing. Luckily my hand brushed the handle of the bag I was seeking, and I grabbed it. I pushed up with my feet and my head hit the ceiling of the car.

A wave of blinding pain washed over me from the impact as I gasped for air. I calmed my breathing as much as I could and took another deep breath, knowing it could be the last breath I ever took. Warm tears streamed down my face, both out of pain and fear.

I sank back down into the water, my hands seeking Sark. Unlike me, he had been wearing a seatbelt, and for a second I struggled with it, before it loosened. As the dark water pressed down on me and my lungs burned for air, I felt myself begin to panic and could do nothing to stop it.

I grabbed Sark and dragged him out of his seat. I managed to shove open the passenger side door and dragged his unconscious body through behind me. I could feel my limbs weakening as the burning in my lungs became almost unbearable. Sark was a heavy weight, dragging me down into the inky depths, but I refused to let go. There was a voice in my head telling me to surface to get air, so I tightened my grip around Sark and desperately kicked upwards, my vision beginning to blur.

When I finally reached the surface, I almost sank back down, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath. Despite my heaving lungs and fuzzy brain, I felt an immense feeling of relief. I was alive! I drew in deep breaths of cool, sweet air, filling my lungs. Now that my mind wasn't solely focused on getting air, I realised I was numb and shivering with cold.

A new sense of urgency gripped me. Sark. He was unconscious and bleeding and had probably swallowed water while we were under. I swam for the shore, drawing on my last reserves of strength. I didn't bother to fight the current, but let it carry me downriver, angling towards the nearest bank of the river.

I don't know how long it took, but I finally reached the shore. It had seemed like hours, each second causing my panic to grow. This time, though, it was not for my life. It was for Sark's. I don't know why I had this urge to save him, when there had been many times in the past where I would have been happy to let him drown. Maybe it was because he knew something about my missing two years. Maybe it was because he had saved my life. Maybe because of my dream. I don't know.

I dragged Sark up the bank, my teeth chattering in cold. The breeze was freezing against my wet skin. I rolled Sark onto his back and checked his breathing. He wasn't. Urgently, I dredged up the knowledge of every first aid class I had ever been to and began CPR. Gently, steady. I played the instructions over and over in my head as I sucked in a shuddering breath that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with fear. Fear of Sark dying, of all things.

"Breathe, you cocky-son-of-a-bitch!" I snarled at him.

Whether he heard me or not, I don't know, but at that moment he spluttered and coughed, all the water coming out of his lungs. His blue eyes opened and he stared at me, but his gaze was unfocused. He slid back into unconsciousness again, although this time his breath was steady, the slight sound comforting me more than it should have.

A wave of dizziness overcame me, causing my vision to spin. A sharp stab of pain shot through my head. I gasped, and stubbornly held onto consciousness. When the wave had past, I crawled forward and looked at Sark's bullet wound. Luckily, it only looked like a painful, but relatively minor, flesh wound. I tried to clean and bind it as best as I could, using river water and strips of Sark's jacket that I had stripped off him. He groaned as I did so, and I shot him a glance, noticing the dark purple bruise beginning to show on his forehead, near his temple, where his head had obviously hit the window.

I had barely managed to tie the last knot when another stabbing pain hit me, twice as bad as the first. The world swam dizzily and my body felt like it was on fire. I groaned and the combination of pain and exhaustion too much for me as I lost my grip on consciousness and slid into darkness.

I was lying in the cold and dark. My limbs felt weak and the memory of intense pain was still filling my body. I knew I was alone. Completely alone. I had been for a long, long time. I don't know how long, exactly, I lay there, my mind sluggish. I knew the Covenant had me – but I was still confused as to why.

My stomach rumbled softly, reminding me I hadn't eaten or drank anything for days, but I ignored it. I had to get out of here! If I didn't I knew I would go slightly mad...

My vision blurred slightly, and I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was a whole lot thinner than I had been; the results of physical and mental abuse like starvation and electroshock. But I knew I could take comfort in the fact I had not broken.

My eyes, I noticed, looked somewhat bleak and empty, showing none of their former warmth. The Covenant had even changed my hair. It seemed I was now a blonde. I yawned sleepily and turned away from the mirror. I should sleep...

My vision blurred again, and this time I saw the face of the man I hated most in the world – Arvin Sloane. He walked towards me, where I was running on a treadmill in some sort of gym. "Julia." He said.

"Mr. Sloane." I replied.

"How is your training coming along?"

"Very well, considering my weakened state in the beginning." I replied.

"I'm glad. You'll be out in the field before you know it." He told me, before walking away.

I hid my disgust and kept running...

A pair of familiar blue eyes stared at me, humour and warmth making them seem so alive. Julian smiled at me, shaking his head slightly. "Sydney..." he began.

I held a finger to his lips. "No more talking." I said.

And then I kissed him...

I sat bolt upright, suddenly conscious and feeling like I had just had a nightmare. And in a way, I thought, I had. "Oh my God..." I whispered hoarsely.

Then, suddenly, my body was wracked by immense pain. I stifled a scream and sank back down onto the muddy bank of the river. Wave after wave of burning agony washed over me, while I writhed on the ground. I bit my lip to help keep in the screams.

How long I was like that, I don't know. It felt like an eternity even though it wasn't. Gradually, I began to hear a voice calling me. "Sydney! Sydney, wake up!"

I blinked open eyes I didn't even know I had shut, to see Sark's worried eyes above me. I had never noticed they were so blue. It was then that I noticed two things: it was morning and the pain had finally gone.

"Are you all right?" Sark asked cautiously.

"I think so." I said.

Sark rocked back on his heels and I carefully sat up. I couldn't help but smile at his appearance. His blonde hair was sticking up at odd angles, slightly muddy, and his once white shirt was covered in blood and mud stains. There was also a dark bruise near his temple. He really didn't look like the sleek and sophisticated man I knew.

"Are you hurt?" he asked me.

I reached up and gingerly touched my forehead. "Just a bump on the head." I told him. "Nothing serious."

We looked at each other for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. What Sark's were, I don't know. But mine were confusing. The fragments of memories – almost like half forgotten dreams – swirled around my head. Another wave of pain hit me, but it was nearly as bad as the first. I winced slightly, before gasping when a sharp stab of pain almost split my head in two. Tears streamed down my face, the pain worse than everything else. I bit my lips so hard, to keep from screaming, that I drew blood.

"Sydney!" Sark cried.

I blinked, breathing hard, when the pain suddenly stopped. Instantly, everything seemed clearer than before, like the world had been brought into sharper focus. I swallowed in surprise. Oh my God...

"Sydney, what's wrong?" Sark's insistent question broke into my thoughts.

"I...I don't know." I said, confused.

Then, suddenly, I did. A memory came unbidden to the front of my mind. A memory from my missing two years. I blinked, exploring the rest of my mind. It was true. I really was true! I remembered! I really remembered! I sucked in a sharp breath. I remember, all right...everything.

"It was Sloane." I said, everything suddenly making sense.

The memory came into my head. Just before Julia Thorne had disappeared, I had met with Arvin Sloane in Zurich. He had called me in to supposedly talk about my next mission. But in reality it was a trap. It seemed that Sloane had deemed me a threat now that he had almost everything he wanted from me – but he couldn't kill me. So he did the only thing he could do...he wiped my memory and dumped me in Hong Kong – where I had woken up.

But now I had my memories back.

"Sloane?" Sark echoed. "What did he do?"

"He was the one who wiped my memories." I told him.

Sark looked at me at me in shock – although, I think it was more because of what I was I was implying than Sloane's actions. "Syd..."

"Yes, Julian." I said, confirming his fears. His head jerked up when I said his first name. "I remember everything."

And I did. I remembered collapsing after my fight with Allison Doren and waking up in a van. The doctor I had killed in Germany had been there. I remember watching my own funeral from the windows of the van; seeing Vaughn cry and my father grow distant. I remembered the nine months of attempted brainwashing. I remembered the man I had killed to prove myself to the Covenant. I remembered the month of training. I remembered meeting Sark and working with him. I remembered going to the CIA – to Kendall – and asking to work as a double agent. I remembered my sense of betrayal at seeing Vaughn with another woman. But most of all, I remembered the most important thing: my saviour, my lover and my real guardian angel. Julian Sark.

"Sydney?" he asked with an almost child-like fear and hope. "You remember?"

"I remember." I said, before leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

Julian was absolutely surprised for a moment, his movements tentative and wary. I recognised it was fear. He was scared that this could be some sort of trick. But it wasn't. I don't know whether it was my regained memories or just a new understanding of the man in front of me that made me realised I truly cared about him. An honest-to-goodness caring of the man underneath.

I don't know whether Sark read my thoughts or read my thoughts in my actions, but suddenly he was kissing me back with a soul deep and desperate passion, one that was achingly familiar to me. I returned as much as I got, the whole moment even more sweet by the sense of familiarity and remembrance I felt.

We broke apart, breathless and tears began to slide down my face. "I'm sorry." I said softly. "I promised I would never forget, never leave...and then I did. All this time..."

Julian pressed a finger to my lips. "I know." He said. "Do you really remember?"

"Yeah." I said, giving him a watery smile. "You gave me that ring – the ruby ring – so that you would always know who I was, no matter what."

Sark's hand came up to cup my face. "Yes, I did." And he kissed me again.

I revelled in the taste and feel of Sark – feeling the whole rightness of it that I can't remember feeling with anyone else. It might take me a while to sort through what exactly had happened during those two missing years, but I knew one thing: I wasn't the woman I had once been. I was someone different; someone better. And I had Sark.

Author's Note: So what did you guys think? Please review and tell me! Reviews are very much appreciated.

Cheeky.