Losing my Resistance
Ch. 2
o-o-o
The car was parked a good distance away from the villa. Sydney struggled with her high heels and the rocky pavement, but Sark was there to assist her almost immediately. Sydney, being as she is, reluctantly accepted his help. The villa was huge, marbled and lined with terra cotta pots overflowing with blooming flowers.
They took time to refresh their memories of the night's mission: watch, follow, deceive, kill, and voila! The deed would be done; the plan was simple and easy, as it is supposed to be. The doors of the villa flew open to a lavish ballroom. Guests were coming out from every corner, different voices buzzed from left to right, but there was something that stood out…their target. Mischa Ivanovsky, patiently waiting in his table with no one else but a burly bodyguard.
"Time for you to get to work, Sydney" Sark whispered to Sydney as they settled in their table for two. Sydney nodded in agreement. And as quick as they settled in their table, they were on the dance floor.
"What dances do you know?" asked Sydney
"Us dancing is not part of the plan, Sydney"
"Well, you not cooperating is not part of it either" She said, grabbing his hand and dragged him towards the center, keeping the view of their target. "Now, dance"
He cradled Sydney's back and held her hand as he dipped her, "As you wish, Miss Bristow" He smirked. He took a whiff of Sydney's perfume; he spun her and shifted to a 'prom dance' mode.
The dance was slow, they inched their way to their target, who was savagely eating a massive panini. Sydney, catching a good view of him, flashed him a seductive smile. Her target smiled back. She found herself flirting him in the most unabashed of ways.
"Well, that was shameless. You surprise me, Sydney" Sark said as he caught a glimpse of her licking her lips.
"I know. But it always works for guys like him. They like hooker-like girls"
"Indeed" he paused, "Funny, you are such a natural with being 'hooker-esque'… due to experience, perhaps?"
Sydney's look stopped his following retort. Their silence was immediately put into a halt when the other player in the game arrived. Fidelio Ruzo.
"Let's move closer, Sark"
Sark turned their position so that Sydney's back faced the exchange, "No, the bodyguard is looking on, he may suspect us"
"What's happening right now?"
"They're talking…talking. Now, the bomb is being handed over"
"Wait, if the security is so tight, then how did they get the bomb in here?"
"Ruzo owns this place. It's only natural to go against your own house rules"
Sydney nodded, "what's happening right now?" I've always liked his perfume; maybe I should get one for Vaughn. But, what if he thinks—
"Lauren! Are you listening?"
"Huh? What? I'm sorry…I was thinking of—never mind" She looked over her shoulder and Ivanovsky was nowhere on the table, "What happened? Where's the bomb?" She immediately detached herself form Sark and looked from corner to corner.
"I told you that we should move, but you were not listening to me" he sighed, "He's headed to his car, follow him, and distract him"
"And where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to look for some weapon I could use, like an ashtray or so. I have to be resourceful"
"Oh, here, Marshall thought it would be useful, and apparently it is" She handed him the man-made diamond hanging from her neck. "It passed the inspection, it's used to cut glass"
o-o-o
Sydney followed Ivanovsky from the shadows, adjusting her 'hair'. She waited patiently for him to board the car before she prematurely attacked the bodyguard outside the car in complete silence.
"Hugo, where are you? Start the car now"
Strutting her way into the backseat, she turned on her charms, "We won't be needing Hugo now, Darling". She ran her fingers down his chest.
"Miss Reed, I'm liking your new talents. I'm not complaining" He remained perfectly still, she did not appear as someone to be alarmed by, he just let her do her job.
Meanwhile, Sark made his way to the restroom cubicle, took down the hanged photograph, and sliced away the glass protecting it.
Sark, where the hell are you? Sydney continued teasing the ignorant man, but keeping her sights on the suitcase properly tucked under the seat. This bastard is expecting something to actually happen.
Before Sydney's night could into a potential disaster in her mind, a loud knock came from the backseat window. The door immediately flew open with Ivanovsky toppling out. Sydney grabbed the suitcase as Sark dove the shear of glass down to Ivanovsky's chest.
The bodyguard, Hugo, regained consciousness and attacked Sark. Sydney kicked the back of Hugo, aiming with her heel. Thank god for slits. She helped Sark up, and he used the bloody shear of glass to end the fight with Hugo. The lifeless bodies of the target and his bodyguard were positioned in the car, to avoid much attention.
Breathless, Sark straightened his suit, "Well, that was…quick. Is the CIA doubting the abilities we have?"
Sydney looked at the weapon in Sark's hand, "Are those the reasons you took so long?" she pointed out to the wispy shear of glass, "You had to make it look so good" she said sarcastically.
He raised his weapons up and admired his handiwork. "I actually made three, but Hugo over there, shattered the others"
o-o-o
"Escargot? I thought Ruzo was Italian?"
"He is. I guess he just likes the taste of these"
"But Sark, I don't eat snails" She said, lightly poking the snails with her fork.
"Neither do I. But Lauren does, it's her favorite, so I suppose you do have to take it to stay in character" he said, doing the same as Sydney.
She stared at her 'meal' and attempted to take a bite before she put down her fork in defeat, "I would if I could, but I can't. It's too disgusting"
Sark let out a laugh and leaned on his chair, "I never expected snails to be your weakness, of all the things imaginable"
Sydney remained silent, admitting her defeat over the cooked snails. She was hungry and tired and was deciding to proceed back to the bed and breakfast and sleep her hunger off, besides, their mission was already accomplished. There was no further reason to remain around the location.
Sark took notice on Sydney's situation, he sighed, and stood up. "Get up"
"What?"
"Get up. There's a nearby McDonald's, in Siena. I'll drive us there" he said, avoiding Sydney's eyes.
"I never knew you cared about me"
Sark Smirked, "I don't"
Sydney smiled, hooked her arm unto his, and walked away from the snails.
o-o-o
He held the door open for Sydney. She reminded him that she did not need his help. She took of her wig and loosened her shoe straps. Sark wore his sunglasses.
"Sunglasses? At night, Sark?"
"Night vision"
Before the got the ignition started, Sydney's paranoia kicked in, she gripped Sark's collar, "Listen, I am going to rest on the way there. And if I wake up in Hong Kong, LA, Russia or wherever, I swear to god, you are the first thing I am going to hunt down and I won't hesitate to kill you with my bare hands and throw you back to hell"
Sark's eyes widened in shock of her sudden burst of threats, "I won't harm you, Sydney. Nor allow anything to harm you". He paused and broke out in laughter, "Now that sounds damn near poetic"
Her brows furrowed at him and she loosened him from her grip. She leaned back and went to sleep.
o-o-o
"Wake up"
Sydney slowly regained consciousness and scanned her surroundings. "Are we there yet?" She ran her hands on her arms to ward of the cold, but she, instead, felt a foreign material against her skin. It was Sark's suit jacket.
"Yes, but we have to walk up to the plaza" he said, looking at her confusion with his jacket, "Keep that for now, it's cold"
"What about you?"
"I can manage. Now let's go, I know you're hungry. I don't want the CIA thinking that I starved you"
They walked an uphill climb, passing by dimly lit shops, closed stores, and whistling teenage boys. Sydney wrapped Sark's jacked tighter around her; the night was growing colder, such as an approaching storm.
From the distance Sydney spotted two golden arches peeking out from the middle of the plaza.
They entered and took seats in the establishment that clashed with its surroundings. This had striking red, yellow, and white exteriors and a big sign that says: "McDonald's".
Sydney pulled out a pen and started writing down orders on her palm. "What are you having?"
Sark scoffed, "I don't like the food served here"
"Fine, posh spice, whatever you say", Sydney stood up, "You'd better be here when I get back
Sark locked his sights on her as she moved away from their table. He buried his head in his hands, groaning at his unanswered questions in his mind.
In moments, Sydney retuned with a tray full of food, fit for at least three people. "Here we are"
"Good grief, Sydney. Are you pregnant?"
She smiled, "No, I'm with a whiny child" she handed him his large fries, his coke, and his Crispy McBacon. "It may look a lot, but it's not much. So don't worry, you won't lose your figure"
Sark lightly threw his head back and smiled, "You ordered for me? Why, I never know you cared"
"I don't. but I am just not as heartless as you" she paused, "So, what did you do while I was gone?"
Sark took a sip from his drink, "Uh, just thinking"
"About your escape plan? Because, I guarantee you that you'll not succeed. By tomorrow night, you are going to be thrown back to your --"
"For the final time, I'm not going to escape. And I believe that I'm not going back to my awful home with the CIA by tomorrow"
"Oh really, and why is that?"
Sark lowered his voice in attempt of secrecy, "I overheard, while I was in the restroom making the shears, that there would be a new bomb exchange that's going to take place" he paused, "In London"
As Sydney asked about the details, a big group of young teenagers sat right next to them. They could not risk divulging any information about possible global threats while young teenagers were checking them out. It would spell out disaster.
They finished their fast food meal and decided to go back to their honeymoon room. It could have been a smooth walk balk to the car if Sark did not start feeling soft drops of rain on his hair. Before they knew it, they were running for cover. They settled in a dimly lit dessert lounge.
They laughed at their situation on how they were easily scared off by the rain. Sydney realized that she was still holding Sark's hand from where he prevented her from slipping in the pavement. She did not want to let go, but she casually slipped her hand off, causing Sark to let out an apology for holding her hand.
"It's okay, I actually need to thank you for saving me from embarrassment"
"It's my pleasure" he paused, scanning his surroundings, "We should stay here until the rain stops"
"Yeah, we should" She said. Her eyes widened when she looked around the lounge that resembled an old wine cellar. "Wow, this place is so beautiful, bordering on romantic"
Sark looked at Sydney "Are you trying to tell me something, Miss Bristow?" he joked
Sydney glared at him, "Well, are you expecting me to tell you something?"
Sark did not have anything to answer back, and she laughed at his defeat over their little banter. They stood in silence, in the middle of the empty lounge; the small town has retreated for the night. Sydney just unconsciously fixed Sark's collar when a big, huff, voice came from behind them with a strong Italian accent,
"Julian?"
o-o-o
--To be continued…soon--