Eighteen Months Post – Telling.
LONDON
Sark opens the door and steps into the lobby of the bank, box in hand, avoiding the two unconscious bodies of employees slumped behind the desk in the room. The sleeping chemical had worked well, as always.
With a wave of his hand, he turns the OPEN sign on the door to CLOSED, and walks out onto the busy sidewalks.
Being in London again . . . every time, it brought back memories. Memories of people, a family he'd wanted . . . the family he'd gotten . . . He shakes his head as his cell phone goes off.
"Hello?"
"I think we have an answer."
Sark looks puzzled as he continues to walk. "To what?"
"Reviving Sydney."
His heart involuntarily skips a beat, then resumes with fervor. "Talk to me."
"Some type of wire, thin, transparent, best described as spider's web thread – it broke when Sydney stabbed Sloane. We've just figured out how to reassemble it."
"Are they working on it? Are you with Jack?"
"Jack knows, but he's not here. Sark – this could be it. But we're working with things we don't understand here." Sark's head is racing as Irina goes on. "Also. We discovered the genuine liquid for the page you got in Argentina. It's a continuation of another prophecy, like you suspected. It's the one about Sydney."
He stops dead. "What did it say?"
Irina takes a deep breath. "Having received these marks at the forty-seventh minute, of the sixth hour, of the country in which this page shall be concealed, the woman in question will have found the strength necessary to fulfill her duties and bring about the prophecy that I have chronicled. In this I lay my trust and hope – Milo Rambaldi."
Sydney sighs, exasperated. "You think I would ignore something like this?" She takes the bandage from Sark and begins wrapping it around. When finished, she looks up. "Thanks."
Surprised, he replies, "Of course."
"What time is it?"
Sark takes out his cell and glances at it. "About a quarter to seven. We have about two hours to get to the safe house. Are you sure you'll be-"
"I'm good. Really."
About a quarter to seven.
Six forty-seven.
Sydney got her scar at six forty-seven.
"Sark?"
He begins to walk again. "That's when Sydney got her scar."
"Six forty-seven."
"Yes."
A beat.
"They're hooking her up in two hours. They believe it will revive her to her conscious state."
Sark arrives at his car, slides in the seat, and starts it up. "I'm coming."
* * *
Oh, my God . . . God, just let me sleep . . . God . . . wait. I'm Sydney.
Sydney . . . I have to wake up, cause I could be anywhere . . . Francie – she wasn't Francie, she was Allison. Will's dead.
Will, no no no no, Will's not dead. Goddammit, Francie. She killed him.
Where the hell am I?
What – wires. Am I – hospital? Could be – doesn't look hospital.
Oh my God, Sark.
What – why is he just sitting there. Is he waiting for me to wake up – close my eyes, he won't notice. I can wait – I can wait for him to go away.
Stay awake, Syd. They'll leave. He'll leave. He'll kill you if you . . .
There he goes. Door, door, door, just go . . .
I'm alone, I think. Door's closed – there's a window. Half-open.
Come on, Syd, all you have to do is climb through it and you'll be safe. It isn't that hard.
Then you can call Vaughn and cause I miss Vaughn.
God, I want to go to Santa Barbara.
OW, God. My head – my muscles – my head feels so heavy. Just – crawllllll . . . Effort – come on, Sydney. You've been through worse.
Hands on ledge. Now just push . . . through . . .
Hurts. Wait, doesn't. I can't feel it.
Run Sydney – don't stumble – stop it – run, run, run, run, run, run . . .
* * *
"Where the hell is she?!"
"Sir, I don't know! Five minutes after you left the room, we came back and she was gone. I swear, sir-"
Sark doesn't even wait for him to finish and almost runs into Irina and Jack in the hallway.
"Sydney's not here! She just vanished and no one knows where she is."
Irina looks stricken. Jack immediately asks, "Have you started searching? Have you looked everywhere in the building, asked all the employees if they've seen her?"
"All of it, yes, it's going on right now. I knew it – we shouldn't've – it was a bad plan-"
Irina speaks. "She couldn't have gone far. She just left, and if she did return to consciousness, she would've been disoriented, not known where she was, somehow wandered off. We don't know what state her mind is in right now."
Jack looks at Sark. "Make sure you tap into all likely intelligence networks, see if they've configured a plan to abduct her." Sark feels the emotion underneath as Jack continues, "We've waited months now. There's not a chance we'll lose her again."
With a nod, Sark turns and quickly leaves the building.
