Silence reigned throughout the room and the turning of wheels could almost be heard,
though Weiss' seemed to be a mite squeaky.
"Why do we have to break him out?" asked a bewildered Weiss. "Why don't we just ask
for him to be transferred?"
If Jack were a humorous person, he might have laughed. Unfortunately, he wasn't.
"Because we are a black ops division of the CIA." He leaned toward Weiss. "We. Don't.
Exist."
"Ok, man, you're scaring me."
Five hours later, the team was on their way.
The van was quiet. Everyone was keeping busy–Sydney being mad at Jack, Vaughn being
his usual somber self, Dixon driving, Marshall working on the computer, and Weiss
making eyes at Nadia. Sloane stayed at headquarters to supervise. Unexpectedly, Jack's cell
phone chirped. After a minute he closed the phone and looked up.
"That was Kendall. Change of plans. Sark is being transferred to a more secure location.
We're to intercept them and extract the prisoner just before they reach their destination–
CIA headquarters." Dixon turned the wheel and the van spun in a complete 180. Then Jack
answered the unasked question.
"It seems the higher-ups wanted to keep Sark for themselves and in doing so conspired
against Kendall."
Everyone put on their coms as the elder Bristow gave them what details he had and passed
the intel onto Sloane. Vaughn immediately began giving interrogative orders. "Marshall,
can you use satellite imagery to track the transport?"
"I...just a sec...have to check..."
"Well, can you or not?"
"Vaughn!" Sydney scolded. "Please, stop haranguing Marshall. He's doing the best he can,
just as we all are."
Vaughn looked mutinous, but refrained from saying more.
Dixon signaled to everyone. "Jack, I see a vehicle up ahead matching the description you
gave me. Do you want me to pursue?" Jack climbed into the passengers seat. "Marshall, do
you have anything on the radar?"
"No. The spectrum is too broad. Every car, truck, and van looks the same." CIA
headquarters was less than a mile away.
Sydney and her father exchanged looks as if to confirm what they were both thinking.
"Do it."
The vans tires squealed as it shot past the transport. A quick turn of the wheel and the target
automobile was dead in the water.
Both teams jumped out at the same time. Chaos ensued as the APO team tried to
tranquilize the guards as quickly as possible. Everyone was shouting to be heard over the
short spats of gunfire the CIA sentinels managed to get off.
Only Jack's voice could be heard over the com. "They must have been expecting us! There
are too many of them! Phoenix, extract the target and retreat! We'll hold them off!"
Sydney whirled to the back of the transport and wrenched open the door. Waiting inside
were four armed guards and Sark. Skillfully putting a dart in each guard's neck, she
grabbed the manacled blonde by his arm and dragged him into the nearest alley.
Julian Lazarey looked astounded. "Sydney Bristow?" His trademark smirk crept onto his
face. "I don't believe it. You, a CIA operative, are breaking me–"
Sydney slammed him against the dank cement wall, hissed "Shut up, Sark," and deftly shot
him in the foot.
