Chapter Six
LOS ANGELES
SYDNEY'S RESIDENCE
Sydney stared at the cup of coffee in her hand; she clutched the handle tighter to stop her shaky hand, the murky brown contents rippled with the slight movement. It was going cold but she barely noticed. She had, after putting down the phone and sitting in silence for ten more minutes in the darkened bedroom, made the drink purely out of something to do, to occupy her cluttered mind. Waiting for the kettle to boil had left her open to the unpleasant thoughts and so she had started to tidy up the living room, the magazines she either threw into the bin or put into a perfect neat pile on the table. The remote control had been balancing on the sofa arm so she moved that to set it beside the magazines, she had tidied up the coasters and rearranged the coats by the door so they weren't about to drop to the floor. By the time she had finished the water in the kettle had needed to be boiled again but instead she poured it into the cup. She'd forgotten the milk so beside the shock of drinking luke warm instead of scorching hot coffee, the too bitter for her liking taste of coffee had jolted her awake also. Sydney felt lost, unbelievably depressed, guiltier than she ever thought would be possible considering who was dead. Two years ago she hoped her mother would be wiped from the face of the Earth.
She felt nauseous and not for the first time she realised she was probably still in shock, the ticking clock sounded loud as an avalanche in the otherwise quiet living room and for the umpteenth time the hockey puck clock drew her gaze to it. It felt longer than 18 minutes had assed. She had tried to call Vaughn but his cell was turned off, the only thing the Agent wanted to do was curl into a tight ball and let her dreams take her away. A long run would usually aid her in clearing up her head but this time she had to stay in and wait for her father. Not for the first time Sydney went to the front door and looked out, but it was silent, not a murmur came from anywhere. She wondered where her dad was, he should have been there by now.
LAX
Peter eyed the man that peered over the table at him with dubious eyes. This man that watched him with such distaste and doubt was denying him what he wanted above all else at the moment. He had come to the United States for one reason only, to find Sydney – Julia, and the man that identified himself as Agent Vaughn was keeping him from that goal. Usually a cool man in most situations...except when having to defuse an unexpected bomb at 20 odd seconds, he found himself holding back from jumping out of his blue plastic chair and escaping. The only place that would get him what A. in a cell B. 6ft under or C. completely lost in a city that was completely new to him. He favoured neither option. They eyed each other from across the table, one with information and the other seeking to extract said information. Neither was willing to relent and so they had gotten nowhere very fast. Vaughn was almost desperate for Peter to start talking; he wanted to satisfy his own curiosity as well as help Sydney, he was also a little bit jealous. This man had known his girlfriend during her missing two years, had found out things about her that he was only just starting to. He was also suspicious of Peter's apparent protectiveness of her.
"There are conditions" Peter broke through the silence that until now had seemed never ending, "I want things for my help."
Vaughn didn't bat an eyelid though internally he was relieved. "Of course; I wouldn't expect any less."
Peter visibly relaxed, his previously tense shoulders slouching as he leant forward on the table. "Good, now tell me what you wish to know."
The Agent had been briefed beforehand on what he could and could not say. The Agency wanted information certainly but not if what Intel Peter wanted was deemed to be too big to give, if that turned out to be the case then all bets were off and it would be back to the drawing board for Sydney. "How is it that you know her as Sydney? At the time the two of you met she was undercover" he had lied about the last part, divulging information about her disappearance was a no no. But of course if Peter really did know about that then he would see through the lie straight away.
He hesitated, knowing that Vaughn had lied to him straight off the bat was not surprising to him but it made his mistrust the man. "...She came to trust me" it wasn't a complete untruth, unfortunately for him Vaughn was not buying it.
The younger man shook his head and looked to the floor before meeting the other man eye for eye again. "She would never do that, her sense of loyalty to her country is too high to start talking about herself and effectively blowing her cover" Vaughn too leant forward now so that the two men were inches from each other. "Now how about the truth this time" he said condescendingly.
The German's mouth twitched and he glared at the man he now so as an opponent. "That is rich coming from you" he growled through clenched teeth. Peter's patience was not infinite and it was rapidly wearing thin.
"Let me tell you something..." Vaughn began heatedly. "You, a terrorist in our eyes, came to my country, looking for a CIA Agent you should never have known in the first place – you don't get to ask questions and expect the truth. In this room you answer to me, and I'll give you some free advice – right now you should be glad it's just me that you're dealing with because there are people, that I know personally, who would be glad to tear you limb from limb to get the information that they want" he watched with satisfaction as Peter's demeanour changed from anger to shock to respect. Peter was not used to being challenged. Instead of getting annoyed or violent, he did what he thought best in the situation. He laughed. And was secretly pleased to see Vaughn's startled expression at his unexpected response "what's so funny?" he bit out.
His laughter died down to a chuckle. "She said I would like you" he announced. "Okay, I will tell you what you want to know" Peter's voice grew serious again "and then I must know where she is."
PIER
Through the black night Jack was unable to see the waves of the sea as it rose up against the legs of the pier to wet the wood and darken it, there was no moon and looking out across the ocean he couldn't see much of anything. He could hear the water splashing though as it rushed forward and up, and the noise was soothing and it calmed him quite well. Apart from him and a couple of kids near the carousal on skateboards, the pier was blessedly deserted. He tried to simmer his anger, the last thing he wanted was to arrive at Sydney's place with a face like thunder and looking like he wanted to argue, she wouldn't be able to cope with another Bristow battle at this point – not that he was looking to blame her for this. He knew who was really to blame, the Covenant, but at the moment they weren't there for him to get mad at, to put it lightly. Though that would change soon enough. The last time his wife had died he had retreated into himself and this time he swore that would not happen, true Sydney could probably deal with it better this time as she was older – or maybe not considering the circumstances surrounding Irina's death, he couldn't retreat again though. He refused to allow himself to do that. His own mind was one thing he could control.
The last time he had eventually found out that Irina was actually still alive, but this time there was no such news coming his way, and Jack found himself wanting there to be. He was angry at the Covenant, at Rambaldi and his blasted works, at Sloane, at himself for not realising that he had not, if ever, been communicating with Irina, and angry at her to for leaving again in the first place. For not telling him that she was in trouble, if she even knew. It made him laugh that if she turned up and told him she had known he was liable to strangle her for putting her family through his, as much as hug her. But Jack Bristow was a very thorough man, he would find someway to certify her death was real, maybe the Covenant had screwed up her memories by way of adding false ones a well as the rest.
He looked at his watch and was surprised at how the time had flown. His stomach nearly lurched at the thought of how he would console Sydney. He pushed away from the rail, the place he had come all those years before, the first time. Jack turned back to the exit, where his car was parked. The kids had gone, and he was alone, again.
SYDNEY'S RESIDENCE
Sydney was growing anxious, she had called her father but as with Vaughn's phone ten minutes earlier, there was no answer. Against her judgement she had called Will, had been split between calling him and keeping him out of this. He would hear about it eventually and would berate her later for keeping it from him. She pushed the curtain aside and peered out to watch the road, the coffee was left mostly full, it was ice cold now. She was about to move away from the window to do something, anything else when she heard a car pull up outside the house. It came to a stop in the driveway and she strode to the door in three quick steps where she threw open the door. Jack shut the car door and looked up when he heard Sydney; he stood almost uncomfortably, wanting to know her state of mind before he did anything. She shortened the gap between them and flung her arms around him, her lips pursed as she tried to stop crying again. Her breathing came out in a strangled gasp as she tried to even it out, the lump in her throat felt like it was growing, and it hurt, ached. Jack hugged her, relaxing and he spoke soothingly. Her pain was paramount to his.
"I'll take care of everything, sweetheart" he told her softly.
She sniffed, wiped her sleeve across her eyes. "How do you take care of something like this, dad?" her voice almost broke again, like it had on the phone. "This isn't a situation where you can seek retribution by finding the bad guy" Sydney pulled back and looked him in the eyes, searching for answers. "This time the bad guy is me --."
He interrupted her, had to make her understand she could not blame herself, torture herself. "You cannot believe that, the Covenant is behind this..."
"But what if they just helped me follow through with something I already wanted to do" Sydney spoke quieter now, aware that even though the neighbourhood appeared to be asleep, someone could be listening, whether they understood the conversation or not was beside the point. She moved back towards the wide open door, her arms crossed. "It's no secret how I felt about her when she first came back into our lives...yes, things changed later on but once she escaped CIA custody I felt the same as I used to. I shot her in the arm then..."
"That was only a disabling wound" he added. Jack took her arm gently and led her back to the house, closed the door behind them and out of habit checked all was quiet outside via the window, as Sydney had minutes before him.
"What if all the Covenant did was help me do something that, unconsciously, I already wanted" she tuned around once in the living room to face him "that would make me no better than them" it was her fear, that she would turn into the very people that she chased and tracked for a living.
"Sydney, you are nothing like them" Jack hastened to correct her "remember that" she sat down on the couch, not knowing what to think then, tiredness overwhelmed her.
He saw the cup and picked it up, intending on making another when the doorbell rang, instinctively his hand moved to his gun. Not that an intruder would ring the bell, Sydney stood though and walked to the door without speaking and he assumed it was Vaughn coming back. "Thanks for coming" Jack heard her say as he walked into the kitchen.
Will stepped over the threshold and drew her into a hug; his light blue eyes radiated concern. "This is probably the stupidest question in history but, how are you holding up?"
Sydney smiled weakly, she was glad she could hide what she was really feeling from people that weren't used to probing below the exterior. "I'm better...better than I was."
Will shut the door after him. "Do you need me to get something? A drink or something to eat?" he questioned her and walked her to the couch. Sydney had lost count of the amount of times she had got up and down in the last hour.
"I'm good. I think my dad is making coffee" she replied and both of them in sync turned to the left to see Jack moving around in the kitchen, she knew he could hear them but was staying in the other room to give them some privacy.
His eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, your dad is here? Uh, do you want me to leave?"
It was Jack that responded as he stood quietly in the doorway. "The coffee's almost done. I should go" he made to move across the living room when Sydney rose and blocked his way.
"You don't have to" her hopeful face reminded him of when she was six, when he had left to go on a 'business trip' she had stood in his path outside the house to block his way to the car, had told him not to go. But he had ignored her and so started his avoidance of what had happened. "It isn't just me that's affected by this" she was going to say more when he cut her off.
He smiled slightly. "Okay" he agreed, accepting her offer.
Will moved from foot to foot, now he was the one feeling a little like a third wheel, the odd one out, the crowd to the company of two. "You know what I'll go..."
"None of us have to go Mr. Tippin" Jack assured him. Truth was, if he couldn't help Sydney, he knew he could count on Will to do what he was unable to.
The kettle whistled signalling it had finished boiling. "I'll get it" Will used the coffee to excuse himself; he sensed he had come at a bit of a bad time. After what they had just found out he knew they must have a ton to talk about.
LAX
"I knew that Sydney had come back here, I have people that I called from time to time that keep tabs on things..." Peter said. They had been talking for half an hour, passing along tiny bits of information, not too much but enough to keep going, a little bit at a time.
Coffee had been brought in a few minutes earlier and Vaughn picked up the Styrofoam cup and put it to his lips after replying. "I know you won't give me any names...at least not yet, but tell me this: Why exactly are you here?" It was what they had been building up to, Intel, small talk, and then the more important stuff.
"Recently – more than that actually, I haven't been able to contact her mother. A few days ago I went to her home in Italy...there was barely anything left, it was an explosion certainly," he explained.
"Does Sydney know you've spoken to Irina?" this was definitely a bit of interesting news. Maybe Peter could be convinced to give them a little something on her, tell the CIA what she had been up to since her escape.
Peter nodded. "Yes, of course, she too kept in contact with her mother. It became increasingly more difficult to communicate with her directly. Security became very tight after Ashford's death. That was when Sydney first saw her mother again. The Covenant where furious when they heard he had been killed, not that they ever found answers" he laughed. "But now" he added somberly "Irina has disappeared off the face of the Earth. It's why I came here; I was hoping Sydney knew what had happened to her."
