One Hour Earlier
The knock was so soft that he almost couldn't distinguish it from the pitter-patter of rain. He peeked out the window to see a disheveled woman. Her brown hair was damp with rain. She wore no coat. He opened the door. She stiffened and eyed him suspiciously.
He smiled at her. "I've been expecting you," he greeted in Ukrainian.
She didn't look pleased. She shifted and with one quick swoop pointed a gun at him.
He frowned slightly. "Sydney Bristow?"
"Who are you?" she necessitated.
His hands flew up. "I'm Alexei. Sark told me to me to expect you. To take care of you. To get you papers and tickets. You're Sydney Bristow. You were to be traveling with a baby. And if anything happens to either of you, it will be on my head."
She stared at him a second longer.
He realized she had no child with her and glanced out into the rain. "But...where is the baby?"
She lowered her gun and he lowered his hands. She stepped away from the door and went to the side of the house. It was almost a minute before she returned with a child wrapped heavily in a gray blanket to protect him from the elements She stepped inside and Alexei closed the door behind her. She took a seat at his table and pulled the blanket down from the child's white-haired head.
Alexei smiled as the baby looked up at him with bright, blue eyes. "May I?" he asked, holding out his arms.
Sydney gave him a glare. "He needs to eat," she responded.
He nodded. "I'd already begun to prepare." The call from Sark had been so strange and serious. He'd given him the most explicit of instructions, as if he trusted him with everything and nothing all at once.
Alexei turned to get out the food, but couldn't help but wonder about this woman, this Sydney. He watched her from the corner of his eye. She never took an eye off him either, even as she fussed over the child. Her brow was heavy with concern as she carefully examined every inch of the boy. Alexei pretended not to notice as he began setting food on the table, but he noted she found light bruises on the child's arms. The baby was quieter than any child he'd ever seen. Not babbling or cooing or even whimpering.
"Is this alright?" he asked, interrupting the silence.
She startled before looking at him. She looked at the table as if noticing the food for the first time. She looked far less pleased by it than he would have expected for someone as thin as she was. She began tearing the food into smaller pieces and feeding the baby. Her hands trembled. Unnaturally. Slightly. Not from fear or cold. She hardly seemed to notice it. The boy began to push away food after a short time. She looked to him expectantly.
Alexei took out a bottle immediately, filling it with milk. He heated it, testing to make sure it wasn't too hot before handing it back to her. She tested it herself anyway, exposing a purplish black wrist, raw and indented a good two centimeters all the way around. He stared before catching himself when she looked up at him again.
"What's his name?" Alexei asked, as Sydney began giving the baby a bottle.
"None of your business," she snapped. Her eyes gave him a look as if thinking him an idiot for asking.
Perhaps he was. Beyond her name, he knew nothing about her. But he wouldn't be surprised if asking her any other questions got him another gun in his face. Yet, she was ever so gentle with the baby. He realized she still hadn't made any attempt to eat the food. Perhaps she didn't like it.
"I can prepare something else," he offered. "It'd be no trouble."
Sydney glanced back towards the table, grimacing as if food disgusted her in her some way. "He just needs to rest now." She rose from the table.
The statement seemed so odd. As if taking care of the baby meant taking care of both of them. Or as if only he mattered.
"I set up a room for you. This way," Alexei finally managed to say. He led the way into the hall and up the steps. He saw her wince as she started to climb the steps, but she didn't complain. He entered the first room on the second floor landing. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
She took in the room first from the doorway. He saw her note the windows, the table, the bed, and the blankets. She tested the lock on the door then nodded.
"I'll...let you rest," Alexei responded. He turned to leave the room and closed the door as he exited. He heard her lock it behind him.
2 Hours Earlier
The young agent paused in the doorway, then straightened and approached the desk. "Final report, sir. Casualties seven: five dead, two wounded."
Sark took the folder without looking at it and without a word.
The agent hesitated then continued. "It's strange, isn't it, sir? All the attacks on these old facilities in the past five months."
Sark looked up at the agent. "It's obvious someone is betraying their locations. So far, the attacks have been on the old facilities. Someone is making small sacrifices."
The agent looked down, as if he had thought the same but didn't want to be the one to say it. He might have stayed longer but Sark's phone rang. The agent left to allow him to attend to business.
Sark placed the phone to his ear, but before he had the chance to speak, static cackled in his ear. Then, a clear word came through the static. "Hello?"
He was startled to hear her voice. "Sydney?"
There was a relieved sigh. "I was afraid this--that you--" She couldn't seem to finish a thought.
"Sydney, why are you calling?" Sark interjected. He listened to the noises behind her voice. The sound of cars roaring by on a busy road. The pitter patter of rain.
"I can't call anyone else, not without--I couldn't risk...if they find us again...they'll--" There were odd breaks between her words where she inhaled sharply.
Sark frowned. "I know about your little investigation. I don't know what you found or how you found it, but my organization is under attack. What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Sydney exclaimed, indignantly. She sounded near tears. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Prague. Oslo. Madrid. The list goes on. How many compound locations have been compromised?"
Sydney was silent on the opposite end, finally she conceded. "I don't know."
"Tell me what's going on."
"O'Reilly's dead. That's what's going on! And if we don't get out of here, I'm next. Followed by your son!"
Sark straightened. "He's there with you now? What happened? Where are you?"
"I couldn't leave him! I don't know who they were, or even what they wanted, exactly. We're in...Kiev. We can't stay here..."
"I'll direct you to an associate I have there. He'll take care of you both."
There was a long silence.
"Sydney?"
"Alright," she said distractedly. "Tell me how to find your associate."
1 Hour Earlier
Grigori thought his eyes were playing tricks. He slowed his taxi and realized he did indeed see a woman with a gray bundle stumbling along the side of the road in front of him. He frowned. They were miles from anything. He hadn't seen any cars broken down on the side of the road. Where had she come from?
He passed her and then pulled over to the side of the road. As he opened his car door, he realized it smelled like rain. He stepped out and looked back at her.
She halted, not coming any closer. She shifted the bundle in her arms and eyed him cautiously. She looked exhausted.
"Are you alright?" Grigori questioned.
She was silent. Her eyes darted from the car and to his face. She seemed a moment from tears.
He took a step forward. "Do you need some help?"
She took a step back.
He froze, thinking it had been some time since anyone had seemed even a little intimidated by him. He was over fifty years old, not as fit as he should be, and the white fuzz peeking around the edge of his cap was the only hair he had. Grigori sighed. "It's going to rain. The nearest town is more than ten miles away. I could at least give you a ride there. No charge."
She moved forward until she was just a couple feet from him. She peered into taxi. "Alright," she said, hoarsely.
Grigori smiled. He opened up the door to the backseat and she climbed inside. He shut it behind her, climbed into the front seat, closed his door, and pulled back onto the road. "My name's Grigori, by the way," he said, hoping to get a name out of her.
"What is the nearest town?" was her response.
"Kiev," he answered, watching her eyes in the review mirror.
She frowned slightly, with a processing look in her eyes.
He turned on his wipers as rain drops dotted his windshield.
The bundle in her arms moved, and he heard a weak cry. She resituated it in her arms, pulling the blanket off the head of a small child.
He widened his eyes in surprise. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you…two doing out there? How did you even get all the way out there without any transportation?"
She was silent a moment. Finally, she took a deep breath. "I need you not to ask me any questions. Not about me or him." She nodded towards the baby. "Or what happened to us. I know you don't understand, but I just need to get to Kiev, and make a phone call." Her tone made him realize she wasn't making a plea. She was simply informing him.
Grigori nodded. "No questions," he agreed, immediately.
With that, the woman sat back in the seat and hugged the baby close to her. The baby stuck a thumb in his mouth, laid against her chest and closed his eyes.
The rest of the drive was quiet. He kept an eye on his backseat passenger through the rearview mirror, hoping to learn something about her. Her eyes betrayed nothing. She rubbed the child's back absently. She shuddered every so often, as though a chill only she felt ran through her intermittently. She took in their surroundings and regarded him with a careful glance every so often.
They came across the first phone on barely the edge of town. Her eyes caught it immediately. He pulled over to it and stopped the car. "You're sure you wouldn't like to find another phone, maybe nearby some place you could get a room for the night?"
"Here's fine," she answered. She pulled her door handle. The baby startled with a small whine. "It's okay," she told him. She pulled the blanket over him to shield him from the rain.
Grigori stepped out into the rain as well. As she closed her car door, he held out some change in his hand.
She took it slowly. "Thank you." She looked at the phone but didn't move towards it.
Grigori glanced at it and then back at her. "Are you alright?" he questioned.
She shot him a look.
He stepped back. "I know you said no questions. I'm sorry. And right now, maybe you aren't. I just--are you going to be alright?"
She stared at him. "I don't know," she admitted. She turned and headed for the phone.
He climbed back into the taxi and watched her.
She picked up the receiver, and held it to her ear. She seemed to debate silently with herself for a while. But finally, she took a deep breath and dialed a number she obviously had memorized quickly. Her back turned to him before he had the opportunity to see if she actually spoke to anyone.
He turned off the car to wait.
Two Hours Earlier
It was a while before she finally felt it safe enough to slow down to a walk. She wasn't dressed for it to be as cold as it was. Sydney hadn't known what to expect she'd see outside. There were plenty of trees. And sky. And wind. The baby ducked as if lowering himself would allow him to dodge the wind. Sydney patted him comfortingly and pulled the gray blanket around him more securely.
She glanced back, listening for sounds of anything threatening. She heard nothing, finally slowed and put the child down. He protested by gripping onto her shirt, and letting his legs go limp. But she put him down anyway, and he sunk into a sitting position. His chin quivered, but his eyes caught sight of the ground. He blinked and cautiously reached out towards the thin leafy things all around him.
"It's grass," she told him, kneeling down, touching it also. The things he'd missed being stuck in four walled rooms with tile or concrete floors.
He waved his hand across it, delighted to see it bend and flatten at even his small strength, and then stand up again when he released it. He gripped onto and moved it one way and then another. Then, he pulled his hand back quick surprised when the grass came with it. He squeaked in surprise and held out his hand to show her.
"It's okay." She ripped up some grass to show him and let it rain through her fingers.
With a mischievous grin, he took large handfuls and pulled them out. He released one handful and let it rain back to the ground just as she had done. He crushed it and opened his hand to stare at it seriously. Then, he slowly moved the handful towards his mouth.
She grimaced, reached out and gently brushed the grass from his hand before he could it. She stood up and pulled his hand. He stood and walked beside her. Three steps to her one and then lagging even more as he waked staring straight up. He squinted at the sunlight in his eyes.
She found herself looking up just to see what he was seeing. The sun…puffy clouds…the patches of blue. She'd missed the sky. She looked down at him. A smile was tugging at his lips. He'd missed it too.
He pulled away from her hand and took off running towards the nearest tree. He stopped just as he reached it. He looked at her.
"Tree," she stated, with a small smile of her own.
He patted it gently and giggled.
She picked him up and let him touch a thin branch. He ripped off some twigs and leaves and stuffed them in his pockets, obviously collecting some souvenirs. She almost laughed, bringing him close to her again, and rubbing her nose against his cheek. He could make her forget this wasn't some stroll through a park. That she had no clue if she was getting closer or further away from a city or town. That she didn't even know what country she was in.
He wriggled, wanting to be put down and she obeyed. The boy was on an adventure. With a little more bounce in his step, he scampered a step or two ahead of her, looking for more wonders to stuff in his pockets. Flower petals, pebbles. Anything new and different that didn't manage to scurry away from him.
But she didn't hesitate to snatch him up when she heard movement in the trees somewhere ahead. She pulled him into her arms protectively and he went silent. He always read her and seemed to obey her instincts. Possible danger meant to be quiet. She crept towards the noises, slowly and quietly. She peeked through the foliage and there was a patch of brown. She relaxed. A deer. It realized she was there to and eyed her as suspiciously as she had eyed it. She lifted the child so he could see. He blinked his eyes as this odd creature. He might have run towards it if she'd put him down, but she thought it best to leave the animal in peace.
She turned to take a different path through the trees, heading further west. It was getting later. She considered looking simply for a place to try and turn into a shelter. But she couldn't bring herself to stop walking. Even as the child tired of walking on his own and she was forced to carry him again. Her ribs ached. The baby drooped. Her legs felt strained and her feet throbbed.
A flash of gray wandered out of the trees. She tensed, her hand reaching for a gun to fight some wild creature. But the animal came to a stand still. It was a grayish brown skinny dog with strangely shaped spots. Probably a stray. It stopped and raised its head towards them curiously, then wagged a tail and came forward sniffing. It sniffed around her once then sat down.
She lowered one hand slowly and it licked her fingers in a friendly fashion. The baby turned to look down at the animal. "It's a dog," she explained. She knelt slowly and the animal sniffed the both of them then licked the child's cheek. Sydney reached out and patted the animal gently. The baby hesitantly did the same. He giggled and applauded.
The dog sniffed them once more thoroughly and then headed off.
The baby whimpered plaintively as the animal began to disappear. Sydney sighed; she had no better route to follow. She imagined she'd been walking for hours. The scenery around her was different. Different trees. Different views of clouds. Different views of the sky. But she didn't seem to be any closer to town. She followed the dog, just close enough to keep him in sight for the baby. And when the boy went to sleep in her arms, the dog was company. She realized he was more than that when up ahead she realized she saw road. A road would have to lead her to a house or town. The dog continued across the road and bounded off into the distance.
Sydney turned and began walking parallel to the road. The baby breathing lightly in her ear was the only noise besides the sound of her own footsteps. It was beginning to smell like rain.
3 Hours Earlier
"They're coming now, Akiva," Anton announced.
The guards filed into the room. The short haired blonde woman beside him lifted her head.
Anton pointed to a dark haired woman. "That's her. Sydney Bristow." She trudged in expressionless. The thin beige jumpsuit she wore had more color than her waxen face. Her eyes sunk in, the skin puffy and purple beneath them. She kept her head bowed. She had no interest in where she was going and let the guards pull her along. The restraints on her wrists dug into already bruised skin.
Akiva opened her mouth to speak when the final guard entered with a baby in his arms. The child was small, obviously not much more than a year old. He was frozen in the guards arms, not struggling. He was completely silent. But unlike Sydney, his blue eyes were wide and taking in everything in the room. Akiva's nose wrinkled. "What's that?"
"The baby?" Anton confirmed. "Keeping him nearby keeps her cooperative."
Akiva frowned to the woman in the room. She couldn't even stand up straight. How could she still require coercion to keep her cooperative? "She's been with us for months and this baby," she emphasized the word with obvious disgust, "is the only way you can control her?"
"Not the only way," Anton responded, indignantly. He gestured towards one of the electric batons a guard held. "But this way, she's still quite able to complete those tests you so desire."
Akiva crossed the room and looked at the baby. She took one of the child's hands between her thumb and forefinger, lifting his arm slightly as if the baby were some odd creature for study. She noted Sydney's eyes rose ever so slightly to watch her. "Who's the father of this child?"
Anton shrugged, not seeing the importance. "We've never gotten confirmation. We think it's probably Mr. Sark."
Akiva's lips curled into a grin. "Really." Her expression quickly switched to a sneer. "You've had quite the asset here, Anton, and you're using him as leverage against a prisoner. I'm disappointed in you." She dropped to boy's hand and he held it protectively to his chest.
Anton frowned at her. "How do you propose we use him?"
Akiva stepped away from the prisoners. "Mr. Sark is one of the primary people having success in acquiring Rambaldi artifacts. We might be able to gain access to him through this...boy." She clasped her hands together, already madly in love with in her own idea. "We'll inform Sark we have his son, and that if he does not comply with our wishes, the boy will be terminated."
Anton looked at the baby. "Akiva--"
"This is not up for debate, Anton." Akiva turned to the guard with the child. "Take him to Pierre. Take two fingers and get them prepared to be mailed." She glanced at Sydney and smiled sideways. "Take her along and have her watch. If she does anything to interfere...then, take three fingers." Akiva looked at them expectantly but for a moment, no one moved. "Go!" she ordered.
Anton nodded slightly and the guards filed out immediately, with firm grips on their prisoners. They shuffled them down the hallway to an elevator, down another maze of hallways and into a lab.
The brightness of the room assaulted her eyes. She winced slightly as the guards pulled her inside. The last guard entered behind them and she saw the baby pass right in front of her. There was a table in the center of the room. She lifted her eyes slowly to look around the room. She saw the man in the lab-coat and took a step back. The hands on her dug deeper into her bony arms, pulled her forward and made her sit in a chair.
The man in the lab coat directed the boy be placed on the table. The guard holding the boy whispered into his ear. The man in the lab coat nodded.
"Take two fingers and get them prepared to be mailed....If she does anything to interfere...then, take three fingers."
"No," she whispered.
The guard nearest her shook his head. "You best be quiet. You know better."
The man in the lab coat made the boy lay down on the table. The child started to curl up, but the guard roughly grabbed him and made him lie flat. The boy froze and didn't move. The guard moved a hand away from the boy's body, laying it underneath a spotlight. He secured a strap to one of the child's wrist.
The man in the lab coat put rubber gloves on his hands. He began to swab the child's hand with disinfectant. His blue eyes were wide watching them. Her own eyes blurred, she hung her head, hugging her hands to her chest. The guards stood just in front of her, blocking her from crossing the room to the table.
The gloved hands filled a syringe. The gloved hands began wrapping tape around all but the boy's thumb and forefinger.
She swallowed, but she could hardly breathe.
The man in the lab coat opened a drawer; he removed a scalpel and examined it. Then, he looked across the room directly at her. With his eyes still on her, he set aside the scalpel, and opened another drawer, removing a rather large butcher knife. He began to disinfect the knife.
She felt so cold. Her head ached. The world in front of her began to blur away. Tears leaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks. There was a cough, and then a wail. The room focused again. The guard was holding the arm of the struggling child still. The man in the lab coat was poising his knife for a clean chop. The guards in front of her were staring straight ahead blankly. Their hands were at their sides, their guns in holsters at their waists.
Her fingers tingled. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing behind her eyes. She watched her hand stretch out and draw the gun from the holster of the guard in front of her. A fist pounded into her head, but she held her grip and four shots sounded. The room flashed white and blue. There was shuffling, movement from the figures sinking in front of her. Her fingers contracted. Four more shots. Her nose filled with the smell of smoke and copper. She fished keys from the pocket of a fallen guard and released herself from the restraints.
She moved to the table, to the only movement left in the room. The boy face was wet with tears. His wails reached her ears, along with coughs and hiccups. She looked down at the small hand that had been strapped to the table. It was drenched in dark crimson blood.
The gun tumbled from her hands.
"He's just a baby! You can't hurt him."
"Can't we?"
"There's no reason!"
"Isn't there?"
"What do you want? I'll do whatever you want!"
"Yes, you will. Or this will happen again."
"If you need to hurt someone, then hurt me."
A wail.
"Stop! Please. NO!"
She grabbed a nearby cloth and began wiping off the hand. How many fingers? How many fingers? One. Two. Three. A cut. The baby was bleeding. But. Four. Five. Just a cut. Superficial. All five fingers. All five fingers! Wiping the hand again left nothing but a scratch across his knuckles, hardly even bleeding. Not his blood. Not his blood! She wiped the hand once more with the cloth. She ran a hand across his head and he began to quiet.
Then, Sydney turned, and picked up two guns from the guards at her feet. She holstered one around her waist and held the other. Then, she searched the guard's pockets, taking passcards. An alarm blared in her ears. The boy startled and began to shake. She glanced up. She spotted a camera in the corner of the room. She pulled the boy into her arms and darted into the hallway. Using one of the passcards she gained access to a stairwell. She pounded it up three flights, then halted and peeked into the hallway. She leaned over to put the baby down beside the door. His small fingers clung to her shirt and her hair, but he resigned himself to sitting when she pulled away.
She held the two guns firmly in each hand and yanked open the door. There was movement from the end of the hall. Then, motion from another section of the hall. A door to one of the offices opened. Her fingers contracted and the sound exploded in her ears three times.
Movement ceased.
She went back to the stairwell and leaned over. The boy clung to her neck, and she balanced him on hip. She went into the open office, sat down at a computer console. It was still logged in by the guard who'd stepped into the hallway. She hugged the baby to her and began calling up a map of the facility and a security grid. Her fingers tapped the keyboard and numerous access screens flashed by her. Security feeds. Passcard cancellations. Fire protocols. Emergency lockdowns.
She abandoned the computer, grabbed the baby and headed back into the hallway. The alarm stopped blaring. She ran her passcard and slipped through a security point. As the door closed, footsteps pounded behind her. The door to the access point closed. Through bulletproof glass, she watched the team of guards try and swipe their passcards. An annoying buzzer sounded each time informing them their passcards were unrecognized.
She found an open elevator at the end of the hall and stepped inside. She rode it to the ground floor level. She sat the baby to the side of the elevator, just as the doors opened. Immediately, gunfire sounded. She threw herself to the side of the elevator, as bullets peppered the walls. She pressed a button and closed the doors again. The sound ricochets off the door reverberated through the car. She slammed her hand into the elevator buttons, sending them down a floor. She stayed to the side of the car, guns in hand.
The doors slid open.
Silence.
She took a deep breath and dared to step into the doorway. The hallway was empty. That certainly wasn't going to last. She grabbed the baby and darted into a nearby lab. She put him down, made a quick assessment of her surroundings and began gathering items. Checking labels. Breaking thermometers. Her hands poured liquid into glass vials. Red liquid and clear liquid with a yellow tint. Stoppers into vials. Tape around two vials each. Two in her in pocket. One in hand. A blanket over the baby's head.
She picked him up and opened the door. Guards were standing at the elevator, arms moving in anger and confusion. Her hand flew forward, propelling the one set of vials. She didn't watch, she just ran. A clatter of glass. An explosion of noise and screams and heat. An alarm. Flashing lights. Sprinklers.
The baby squeaked in panic, shifting in her arms..
She hugged him closer and rushed up the stairs at the end of the opposite hall. She peeked into the corridor at the top of the steps. Guards still poised by the nearby elevator. She took the vials taped in her pocket. Her hand flew forward. She watched a muted movie play before her. People flying through the air. Orange and yellow flames dancing. Debris, smoke, heat. She took off in the other direction. But people were rushing towards the commotion. She fired around corners before she turned them. One gun empty. Discard.
Multiple sets of heavy footsteps rushing towards her from a hallway she hadn't entered. She ducked into an office. They passed. She peeked out again and hurried around another corner. A security checkpoint. Passcard refused. Passcard refused. She fired her weapon at the glass. Nothing. She fired at the security keypad. Another empty gun. Discard. She pulled away the casing and quickly rewired. The door hissed open and she hurried through.
She quickly rounded a corner. Sunlight! Windows! An exit was close. Another corner. A blunt force hit her and she fell to the ground, catching herself on one hand and hugging the baby to her chest with the other so she didn't land on top of him. He cried out in fright as she let him go slowly, unable to hold him. He crawled out from under her, just as a force connected with her ribcage and she toppled.
She rolled over to see the guard towering over her. She kicked his legs out from under him and he fell to the floor beside her. He caught himself on his knees, reached out and threw a punch toward her face. If he connected, she didn't feel it. She scrambled towards where his gun had fallen. She gripped onto it and brought her hand back just in time to whirl around and hit his face. He recoiled, holding his nose, and she got to her feet, aiming the gun at him. She took several steps backwards and he stood up as well.
The guard gave her a defiant look. She kept her aim, but hesitated. Choked cries reached her ears.
A sideways smile formed on his face as he stared past her. She could see the boy from the corner of her eye, sitting on the floor watching them. His face was completely red and his mouth wide open, crying harder than she'd seen him cry in weeks.
She took another step back and he lunged at her. The gun went off and he fell to the ground in midleapt. She bent over and grabbed keys and a passcard from him.
She turned to the baby whose mouth was wide open but silent as he gathered air for a scream. She scooped him up, but he remained rigid in her arms. She patted him slightly and a scream finally escaped him. He buried his face in her shoulder.
They escaped the building through a doorway at the end of a the hall. Cold wind assaulted them immediately. She stepped back to get a look at the exterior of the building, as she'd never seen it before. A tan building, cement, unimpressive. The area around it had sparse grass, there was mostly sand and dirt. Nothing to give her any clue where she was.
The child in her arms even looked around wildly. He stifled his screams to whimpers, afraid to cry in such an unfamiliar environment. His small fingers clung to her shirt.
Sydney frowned at what she didn't see. Any form of transportation for a getaway. A gravel road led away from the facility, perhaps to a main road that was beyond her view. Tire tracks led back to the facility and through windows, she saw them. Large trucks behind strong secured doors. A barrel of gasoline was beside the doors. She moved towards it, running her passcard through a keypad. It was rejected. Her eyes widened at the sight of men entering the garage.
She backed away and started to run. Even if lockdown procedures were still in effect they'd get those doors open eventually and then they'd find her. She stopped running, and pulled the last two taped vials she had. She threw the vials at the barrel and ran. The sound of explosion was almost immediately drowned out by a concussive blast, and rush of heat from behind her. She didn't stop running. She didn't look back.
Review Replies:
landi104: He was an interesting character to create. Thanks for the review. :)
sasori: I always wonder if anyone notices the baby is only called "baby, boy, child" in the narrative and if they do, then if they wonder why I do it. Yep, reread it backwards. Hope things become clearer that way.
jennzabell: Thank you for your explanation of the Scully-chip. But I can assure you there is no chip inside Syd's head. As least not as far as I know at this time. 5 months in a controlled environment gave Syd a lot of things to readjust to. As you can see in this part, the baby had a lot of things he had to get used to as well.
Sarsy: Or whatever character development backwards would be called. Lol. It's a mixture of seeing the strong Sydney who'd do anything to get away, even though she's truly scared out of her mind, unsure if she's going to be able to avoid recapture, and then being generally distrusting of everyone around her since it's been so long since she's had anyone but herself to rely on.
grace, cruzstar & inqustive1: Thank you for reading and for your reviews.
Mockingbird: The train station was quite the scene to write. But I wanted to start the part off with action because this was to be an action chapter, and it was finally time to explain the gunshot wound. This whole part was just about how much Sydney had to go through to escape.
knx: Thanks. Angst is my favorite type of fic to write. And technically the Sarkney-ishness of it all is new for me as well.
Thanks again everyone for the reviews!
