So sorry for the delay. There have been many road blocks to get this chapter up. I had a wedding and the internet wasn't working... anyway, hope you enjoy. Thanks always to C for her beta-ing.

Sydney met Vaughn walking down the sidewalk to Eric's cook-out. He nudged her a little with his shoulder making her smile and lean back against him just a bit. With things being so hectic at the office and Vaughn picking up the extra slack from Eric not being around, they hadn't been around each other much. Hopefully, that would be changing soon.

"So you hit Sloane."

"Yes."

"On purpose?"

"Yes."

"Did it feel great?"

"Of course. But there's more to it than that. I thought he was behind Weiss's problems."

"Really?"

"No, not really. But I saw an opportunity and took it."

"An opportunity to release some of your anger towards Sloane. So what happened?"

"Weiss, I'd like you to meet--."

"Mr. Sloane, I know," Eric said, thrusting out his hand. "Is the mission almost complete?"

"Excuse me?"

"The team? Did they survive or are they dead?"

Sydney's mind was reeling. What was going on? Had they picked the wrong APO member? Acting fast, she turned on Sloane and connected her fist with his jaw. Sloane staggered back a few steps and put the back of his hand up to his lip.

"Sydney! Why would you do something like that?" Eric asked, clothes-lining her shoulders to keep her back. "The man's company has done nothing short of save the world."

"Company?"

"The World Health Organization? He sent a team into China to find and neutralize the source of the influenza vat that's brewing over there. He hoped to eradicate SARS as well."

"Boy, for someone in your situation, you sure are up to date on things," Sydney said under her breath.

"Yeah, well, I've picked up a newspaper or two since then," Eric responded. "Mr. Sloane, are you okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Weiss. Don't worry about Ms. Bristow. Just consider it a side effect of her time lost," Sloane explained, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressing it to his lip. "She has genuine trust issues."

"Apparently," Weiss agreed.

Sloane turned to Sydney, "be that as it may, Ms. Bristow, may I speak to you alone?"

"Sure."

They walked over to the doors and exited the large gym-like room. Sloane dabbed at his lip and sneered at Sydney. She stood her ground and turned her nose up a bit as she took a deep breath.

"Sydney, I know that you and my daughter have figured out who Mr. Sark's accomplice is. I'm sure you've already deduced that I won't be as lackadaisical in bringing him down as you have been."

She pursed her lips and squinted a bit. "Any hesitation we might have had was due to the fact that they, Weiss and Dixon, are our friends. Life isn't as expendable to us as it is to you."

"One day, Sydney. That's all I'm giving you to either confront Weiss or Dixon. After that, I'll see personally that the problems are dealt with."

"Problems? You mean you'd get rid of Eric?"

"Agent Weiss knows things that we cannot allow to become public knowledge. I'm quite sure I don't have to remind you of your friend Will Tippin. We've already discovered thatAgent Weiss isremembering bits about his life with my daughter and doesn't mind sharing them. What if he started to recall APO?"

"What about your daughter? Eric is her love. Are you going to take that from her?"

Sloane paused, "we've all suffered considerable loss in our work, Sydney. You and I know it best. Theonly thingwe can do is be there for her." Turning on his heal, he headed for the doors that led to the parking lot.

Sydney was sick of him getting the last word. Since she began working for him, he always knew how to get under her skin and she was tired of it. He was merely a man, a sick man, with a twisted sense of reality. She had to fight for her friends. For her sister.

"If you kill Weiss, she'll hate you as much as I do for killing Danny."

Sloane stopped for a moment, her words obviously stinging more than his split lip. Instead of responding, he continued through the doors out to his waiting, chauffeured car.

"He's going to kill them," Sydney muttered under her breath. "He's going to kill them and blame me."

"Syd! Mike! Get in here so we can get to the serious partying. Everyone else is here already." They shared a look and entered the house behind their energetic host. Eric introduced them to "the guy that seems to know everything," "the sweet girl who ran into him," and his brother, no cute nickname for him. It was weird to be friends with everyone in the room and act like you know none of them. However, it wasn't like their lives were normal.

"Mike, could you go out to the grill and help Marshall? I'm afraid he'll analyze the grill to death. Isabel, could I get your help in the kitchen?"

Nadia offered a soft smile in response and followed him to the kitchen. John, his brother, followed the guys out to the patio leaving Sydney standing in the living room. She asked if Eric and Nadia needed any help and, after receiving cautionary glances from the two, went outside as well.

"You seem to have made quite a few friends since the last time we met. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, thank you," he said, cutting up a tomato. "And I'm glad you're one of them. It's funny how the people here just kind of fell into my life. It's exciting."

She stopped to think about the truth of what he had just said. Finally, she added, "I'm glad." They continued their work in silence, the guilt building in Nadia who was being pulled down even more and more by the weight of the ring hanging from her neck. She shouldn't be lying to him, but what else could she do? "I'm going to run these burgers out to the grill."

Eric watched her leave as he continued to attack a container of mushrooms he was going to cook up for the burgers. Somehow, he felt like Isabel would like them. He was thinking about giving up hope on Nadia and thinking that Isabel would be the perfect girl for his new life. Maybe Nadia wasn't even real.

John came back inside and grabbed some drinks from the refrigerator. "I like your friends, Eric. They're…interesting."

"Why thank you. What can I say? I like diversity."

"You know what? I think that Syd and Mike might have feelings for each other. You might have a little matchmaker gene in you," he joked as he went back outside again.

"Oh great. That's just what I need."

The familiar ring from his cell phone forced him to pull his hands out of the mushrooms and answer the call.

"Femi, I was just thinking about you."

"If only you were," she purred. "I found your girl. It was hard. It was like someone wanted to hide her past. And what I found seems almost too perfect."

"What do you mean by that?"

"In my experience, anyone with a record like hers is either a good guy or a really really bad guy."

"What? Like the government has its hand on it?"

"You said it, not me. I'm sending you a picture I found. It's grainy, but I think you'll be able to tell what she looks like."

"Thanks Femi."

"Afwan, Hubb."

Eric turned the laptop around on the counter and opened his email account. He was nervous to see what she looked like but was excitedly nervous. At last he was getting answers. He had talked to Femi a few times since their initial conversation and she couldn't offer any answers to his questions. He had asked her if she ever dove into his past but she told him that after he left, she just didn't have the heart. It was like someone was hiding his past, he thought. Or maybe people really didn't care about him.

Isabel's beautiful face came into focus. He had been staring out the door, into the bright sunlight, and it only took a moment for his eyes to adjust. She held out her cell phone and asked softly, "Can I take this into the bedroom?"

"Sure thing," he said in a devilish tone, "but if you're not out in ten minutes I might have to come in and find ya."

The image popped up on his computer pixilated, delaying the inevitable, so he returned to cutting vegetables. Sydney came in and explained that the men were demanding cheese for the burgers and Eric helped her out with the quest. In return, Sydney offered a witty comment about the joy men have working over a grill going back to the time of the cavemen and Eric grunted in return. Chuckling, she headed back to the door.

Eric glanced up at the computer screen and dropped his knife. It might have been grainy, but he knew the eyes, the lips, the face. "Bella is Nadia," he asked in a whisper.

Sydney whirled around and smiled, "What did you just say?"

"Do you know something about this?"

"Weiss, do you remember?"

Eric rubbed his forehead as he tried to recall the truth. "No. No it can't be. No!" He couldn't focus, couldn't remember. He watched Sydney walk towards him but refused to accept what she was saying.

Instinctively, he vaulted over to the refrigerator, reached behind it, and pulled a nine millimeter gun from its hiding place. "Hands up, don't make a sound."

"Eric," Sydney pleaded.

"Do as I say!" he ordered. Never once did the thought cross his mind that, as a broker, it might not be typical to have a gun hidden like that. But Eric wasn't really thinking anymore. He was simple on an instinctive drive. "Turn around. On your knees."

Sydney obeyed knowing that once he came into range, she'd subdue him and then figure out what to do from there. Unfortunately, after passing the fireplace tools, he only got close enough to connect the end of the fire poker with the back of her head. She crumpled to the floor and passed out.

Nadia called from the bedroom, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Eric responded, side-stepping his way to the hallway and dropping the iron tool, "just me and my big feet."

With his gun drawn to waist level, he crept towards the bedroom to within listening distance.

"Just give me an hour. An hour! That's all that I'm asking for." Nadia pleaded to whomever she was talking to. "Then you can have him. Do what you need to because I know you won't listen to me anymore. Just, promise that Eric won't suffer. And please don't kill him. And don't let him know that I was involved as either Nadia or Isabel."

Eric pushed his way into the room, "What the hell is going on here? Who are you?"

Nadia snapped her phone closed and spun around, "Eric, please let me explain."

"We're past the point of explanation! You lied to me! You lied to me." He emphasized his words, moving the tip of the gun with each word. "Move it."

Nadia slowly walked past him and out into the living room. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw Sydney lying on the ground. "It's started," Nadia said quietly.

"Take a seat. I've gotta think."

"That will only make it worse," she said, slowly sinking into the chair that she frequently occupied.

"How do you know? Did you do this to me?"

"No, Eric, I didn't. I'm from your past life. The one you can't remember."

Vaughn and Marshall walked in on this last statement. They stopped, frozen in their step, trying to figure out what was happening. From the look on Nadia's face and the gun in Weiss's hand, now trained on them, something was up. "What's going on?"

"Eric needs to know."

"Nadia, don't!"

"No! I have to. Eric, I loved you. I still do! We were a couple. We were going to get married."

"No. Lies," he said through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you're trying to pull but I'm not listening anymore."

"No! They are not lies. We, all of us here, were your friends. We still are. We tried to help you by becoming your friends again," she added, slowing her speech to calm down the situation. She pulled the ring from under her shirt. "I want to marry you. Please remember!"

"Well then, let's ask this panel of friends you claim I had. Anyone? Were we engaged?"

Nadia cringed at the silence. "Sydney was the only one who knew."

"How convenient," he bit out but Nadia heard something in his voice. He was trying to recall his past. Nadia just hoped that no one's forearm got in the way like poor Jack's. She looked at Vaughn and pleaded with her eyes for him to do nothing. She was as worried for them as she was for Eric. She knew that they had stepped into the "no turning back zone" and it could leave all of them dead. If only her mask hadn't broken! That fateful day that Eric gave her his and risked his own life. Why had that happened? Of course, if she had been infected, maybe everyone would already be dead. What did she have to lose?

"I'm not taking this bull crap anymore."

"Yes, you are," she commanded, standing as tall as she could. "You're going to listen because your curiosity is stronger than your anger at this moment. Why would I lie about something like that? Remember me! Remember Prague and Hamburg. Remember when we went to the Magic Mansion and Hawaii. Mrs. Bailey! She said that you were with a girl named Nadia. That's where we met. You just heard Michael call me that. Please. Please don't do this. You remembered the day with the honey."

He ran his knuckles down the sides of his head. "I—I can't, I won't listen to this anymore!" He crossed the room and grabbed Nadia by the neck pushing her down to the couch. He held the men at bay with the gun.

"Eric please," she choked. "I love you."

Eric looked down into her eyes, at the tears that were welling there, and couldn't understand why he was doing what he was doing but he couldn't stop. What was wrong with him?

"It's his fault," Eric screamed.

"Whose?" Michael questioned. "Who are you talking about?"

"Sark's partner! He set it up so it would be this way! And now you! You kept everything from me! Why?"

"Forgive me. I did it for you," Nadia's tongue was feeling too thick for her throat and mouth. The coppery taste of blood was hanging heavy in the back of her throat and it was all she could do to speak. "Maybe I was selfish. That's all I can give you."

Nadia felt his hand tighten around her neck. White spots began to develop in front of her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. She was past the point of doing something. Having Eric as her attacker, she let her guard down and now she didn't have the breath or strength to fight him back. What if the gun went off? Then, who knows whose death she'd have to live with. If she lived. But now she was going to die. What did it matter? Killed by the hand of the man she was in love with while those she loved watched.

"Eric, please," she whispered.

No amount of training, no amount of years as a spy prepared them for such a fight. Eric wasn't in his right frame of mind and they were which made it difficult. It had only been a few moments since he first grasped her neck but it was enough for Vaughn to react. Vaulting over the coffee table, he reached for the gun and Eric.

A shot rang out.