Yes, I'm back! I've been busy with end of year essays and exams (I screwed myself over with my history essay, but that's another story!).

Massive thankyous to all of you beautiful people who reviewed – sydofthesea, Ren201, mountaineer143, Rogue151, nattie700, Kate Finn-BH, luv24alias, total vaughn lover, alllieee, vaughnbear, piglet, Tine, supergirl14, angryapplepie and lilaussiesez. You guys totally rock! Some of you have reviewed almost every chapter!

This story is continuing one from the previous chapter, with a couple of months time lag. I'm trying to set the scene and I think I have covered everything, but if I am a bit vague or forget something, please review and tell me so I can cover it in the next chapter.


Chapter 15: A NEW WORLD

Michael Vaughn hated waking up early to an alarm clock. There is something quite rude about waking up to annoying bleeping and he believed that it was highly un-natural. Unfortunately, his profession didn't support his beliefs and he found himself in yet another time-zone, throwing his alarm clock at yet another wall.

For the last three months, he had been stationed in this small CIA outpost in just on the northern Algeria Coast. His team was working to stop the illegal gun manufacturing in the North Africa and to stop arms from entering Europe and the Middle East. There was a lot of dull analysis, but occasionally he was able to go on small recon missions.

The base was a swirl of red sand and grey warehouses. Set in the middle of no-where, Vaughn felt even more isolated from everything that was familiar to him. There were about seventy agents, analysts and technicians on the base, yet Vaughn had only managed to find out a few names. Groups tended to stick to together, not wanting to go out meet new people, as if it was accepting they would be there for a while.

On a daily basis, Vaughn had contact with four other agents, all of whom had arrived with him. They formed the more senior ranks of the project. George Christos had come with Vaughn from LA. A large man with masses of black curly hair, he was always good for a laugh. He reminded Vaughn of Weiss – comes across as a bit of a clown but when it comes to a mission, his focus never wavered. Logan Anderson was from New York. Vaughn guessed he was about the same age as Jack Bristow, with a similar build. Vaughn had always thought that the cold look in Jack's eyes was unique to his situation, but Vaughn saw it in Logan's the moment that anything work related was mentioned. But behind the front was a warm personality and he almost acted like a father figure to the other agents. Lily Doherty was from Chicago, a tough and impressive woman. While only in her early thirties, her experience as an analyst and her amazing photographic memory meant that she was a valuable member to the team. She was always the first to complain, but the three men who spent so much time with her had learnt that it was easier to ignore her when she started instead of actually trying to keep track of what she was whining about. The three men shared a small bunker, which contained only 3 bedrooms, a bathroom and a small open plan dining/kitchen/living area

Vaughn had become almost like CIA folklore thanks to Lily. On the first day they met, Lily suddenly remembered Vaughn's name from a report she wrote on her analysis on the SD cell takedown. She announced it to the room, causing several heads to turn. Suddenly, Vaughn found himself the centre of attention. Agents surrounded him, trying to find the truth in rumors which they had come across. It look several weeks for the hype to settle down, but Vaughn still saw some eyes watching him as he walked through the base.

Few of the agents on the base had ever seen real action on missions. Most had previously been involved with recon or bug planting, instead of the type of missions which Vaughn had been involved with. To his disbelief, writing mission de-briefs had become even more boring.

Vaughn finally dragged his tired body out of bed, the early rays of the sun hitting his white t-shirt. He reached for a pair of track pants and pulled them on. He slowly made his way downstairs, turned on the coffee percolator as he pulled on his shoes, and stepped outside to begin his morning routine.

Every morning Vaughn rose early and went for a run. On the other side of the base was a small gym, where he spent an hour working out, before running back to get ready for the day ahead. Others on the base preferred to sleep in and either use the facilities later or not at all. Vaughn liked to work alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

He had never been one to work out before. Most of his exercise was simply to make sure he was in good enough shape to complete his job. He had never been over built, his body well toned but not over the top. However, as the weeks went by, Vaughn found himself pushing his body further and the results were defiantly starting to show. He kept quite a quick pace through the quiet base, smiled at the guards who raised a hand in recognition and was puffing as he reached the gym. He took a long drink at the drink tap before commencing his exercise routine.

It was here that his thoughts often drifted to those of home. He tried to picture what they would all be doing this early in the morning. His mother would be sitting at the kitchen table, wrapped up in her white satin bathrobe, with a coffee and a copy of the morning paper. Weiss... well he would probably be in bed. And then there was Sydney.

There were so many things she could be doing. She might be on a plane, on her way to or from a mission. She could be at the office already, trying to get a debrief done in time for the morning meeting. Or she could be in bed. She would often wake up early, watching the sun fill the room. This was her time, when she was empty of all thoughts and she could prepare herself for another day as Sydney Bristow, international woman of mystery. Vaughn would often wake to find her staring off into space, a serene look on her face, which would quickly change to that of peaceful happiness as she found him staring at her.

Vaughn always knew it was time to head back to get ready people entered the gym. The peace of working alone was gone as soon as other people joined him. With a smile and a simple hello to the three agents who entered the gym, Vaughn collected his belongings and headed back.

Vaughn finally arrived back at the bunker, his shirt damp and sweat dripping down his face. He opened the door to find George and Logan already up, drinking their coffee and trying to wake up.

"Man, I don't know how you do it" George grumbled as Vaughn shut the front door

"Do what?" Vaughn asked, running his hands through his damp hair. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Get up and do exercise. I'd rather be in bed for a few extra hours" George replied, looking at Vaughn tiredly.

Vaughn shrugged, taking a long sip of water. "I'm gonna grab a quick shower" And with that Vaughn left the two men to sit in silence, waiting for the caffeine to kick in.

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Despite the fact that they were stationed in the middle of nowhere, there seemed to be a certain dress code. While Vaughn had long forgone a tie, he still found himself, like all the other men on the base, dressing in suit pants and a shirt. The day was already beginning to warm up as the three agents made their way over to the main bunker.

The main bunker was buzzing already and Vaughn could tell there was something happening.

"I wonder what is going on" Logan asked, looking around at the chaos that was going on around them.

"Morning guys, meeting in ten" Lily called out as she quickly walked past the three men.

All three men looked at each other with confusion. Typical CIA Vaughn thought to himself as he had his way over to check his desk.


Okay, that was actually quite hard to write, so my apologies if it was crap! Lol! I hate introducing things, but now that the scene is set, I can get on with the story!

Please review!