Chapter 2:

Location: Weiss Residence

Time: 30 hours after the phone call

Ring, ring.

It's a rather silly thing, but Eric Weiss has always been one of those people who has rather cherished his beauty rest.

Much like the celebrated Ben Franklin, Eric has always believed that for a man to be healthy and wise, ( 'Or reasonably smart in my case,') said man must always be in bed before 11:00 p.m.

Granted, this is a little hard to manage with the odd hours that he works for the agency.

More often then not, Eric seems to find himself playing "spy wingman" – a phrase that Vaughn coined recently – running around various parts of the world at rather obnoxious and obscene hours.

When he does get to rest, he often finds himself being awoken at weird hours for "breaking situations".

Such as now.

Ring, ring.

Groaning slightly, Eric blinks as he's roused out of a particularly pleasant dream involving Salma Hayek.

As something of a light sleeper, (rather ironic, given his predilection for naps) Eric has never mastered the art of sleeping through his cell phone calls.

Ring, ring.

"It's the weekend, damn it." Eric complains to no one in particular, as he keeps his eyes closed. Though his phone is buzzing louder then ever, Eric repositions himself on the bed and vainly trying to will himself back to sleep.

Ring, ring.

Well, scratch that.

As the phone continues to buzz with an almost mechanical glee, Eric groans again and sits up abruptly in bed.

Trying hard to resist the urge to act like a petulant child and throw a pillow or two, Eric takes a moment to rub his eyes, before reaching to his left and grabbing the plastic cell phone sitting on his nightstand.

Without bothering to turn on a light, Eric hits the flashing "accept" button and answers the phone.

"Weiss."

"Eric?" The voice on the other end rasps harshly into Eric's ear. It's obvious that Eric's caller hasn't slept in awhile. "It's Brian McAvery. I work in field ops."

"Brian." Eric falters for a moment as he tries to place the name. It's been a rather hectic couple of weeks at the office, and names and dates have begun to blur in Eric's mind.

"We met last week in the coffee room." Brian prompts. "We talked about the Lakers and how poorly they were doing this year."

"Oh. Right." Eric answers promptly, though he really still has no idea who Brian is. There's been such an influx in hiring at the Agency recently, it's getting hard to keep track of new faces. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thanks." Brian replies. "Listen, I'm sorry that I woke you up, but I was asked to call you in. There's a situation unfolding in the office. We need everyone to come in."

Trying to suppress the groan that has arisen to his throat, Eric settles for making a face at the telephone instead. "Now?"

"Yes, now." Brian answers in a rather bemused tone. "There's a situation in Germany."

"What kind of situation?" Eric queries.

Normally, agents aren't supposed to discuss unfolding situations over the phone for fear of security breaches, but Eric tries anyway. He needs something to actively focus on, otherwise his mind and his body are both going to just fall asleep again.

Brian takes a moment to respond. Finally, he asks rather cautiously, "Is this line secure?"

"Yes." Eric affirms quickly as he reaches over to his nightstand to turn on his light. "Marshall tweaked around with the phone awhile back. It's as safe as any landline."

Blinking as the soft glow of the light floods the room, Eric directs his attention back to Brian once again. "So could you brief me on the situation?"

Brian exhales noisily. "Okay, but only for you, Weiss. You know we're not supposed to do this."

"You know I appreciate it, man."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Brian scoffs lightly. "Anyway, we're not entirely sure what's going on right now. Apparently, someone called the American embassy about thirty hours ago. The caller claimed to have information on something called the 'rätsel project.'"

Yawning, Eric quickly kicks off his bed covers and hops out of bed. "Okay. Could you elaborate on what the rätsel project is? I've dealt with German affairs before, and this is the first time I've heard of it."

"Honestly, as of the moment, we have no idea what the caller was talking about." Brian answers. "According to the transcripts we've received, and the interview with the operator who picked up the phone, the caller never elaborated on the project." Brian coughs lightly before continuing. "Instead, he kept saying that he had to talk to Sydney Bristow."

"Sydney?" Eric, who has now made his way next to the mountain of unfolded clothes sitting by his bed, nearly drops the phone. "Why Sydney? Did he say how he knew her?"

"No." Brian sighs, rather impatiently. "That's why we're having everyone come in. We need to figure out what's going on. Given the current state of affairs between German and Amer-", Brian suddenly cuts himself off as a voice sounds next to him. "Oh my god."

The field op technician's voice has grown decidedly cold. His words are tinged with a hint of shock.

"What?" Eric demands as he listens to the unsteady breathing on the other end.

There's a rather grim pause, and then Brian manages to stammer, "Eric, you better come in as soon as you can. The American embassy in Moscow was just bombed."