Chapter 5
Once they were clear of the city lights Sydney allowed herself to relax, slumping her shoulders more easily into the passenger seat. Now aware of the wet end ringlets of hair she flicked the air system on in the car and altered it to hot as she wafted the ends of her hair in front of the mini heaters in the car. Having made a pathetic attempt at drying them she resigned to slouch in her seat again, staring blankly out the window. She made no attempt to speak, even as small flecks of rain water gathered on the windscreen of her car.
"That was remarkably close." Sark finally broke the silence.
Sydney winced for a brief moment as if she had been under the illusion that someone else was driving, but his sharp voice etched through her like an icicle. Still she said nothing.
"Any ideas as to where I'm driving to?"
Forcing herself to answer she said, "We need to get out of the country…fast." She sighed deeply, aware of what he was about to say.
"That may be a little more difficult than we had anticipated. Surely they'll be looking out for us, surveying the airports." He said without averting his eyes from the road.
"I know." She sighed. "That's why we're not going to the airport…we're going to the dock side." She finished. He gave no reply, unsure whether to explain the dangers of that plan or to just simply disapprove. "It's on the east side of London, which takes about an hour from here. There's a narrow turning down a beaten track. Turn down there when we get there so we can sort things out." And with that she brought her knees up to her chest, resting them against the passenger door before drifting quickly into a seemingly peaceful doze. It was mainly because she was exhausted, but there was some underlying need to block Sark out for even the shortest while.
Sark wasn't sure what to be more shocked at; the record time in which she had drifted off or the fact that she had let her guard down enough to fall asleep next to him. In a whirl of contemplations in his head he also wondered whether he should be insulted or complemented by such a gesture. He only wished he could do the same, as he felt his heavy eyelids threatening to relax to a close. Still, he kept driving. It wouldn't do to stop until they had reached their destination, especially with, what he could only imagine to be, such a big hunt after them.
The office was a loud muffle of keyboards tapping and hurried voices as Kendall strolled onto the work floor of the Black Ops division. He was instantly met with a fresh looking female agent who had just returned an interlinked phone to its cradle.
"Mr. Kendall sir?" She caught up to him, stepping easily into stride as he made his way to his office through a corridor.
"Please tell me that you have some good news on the whereabouts of our asset in Madrid." He replied, wanting ever so much to shake the headache, which threatened to take full effect.
"Actually, Sir, I have some information regarding Agent Bristow…" She waited for him to take it in before continuing. "She's believed to have been sighted in London just a few hours ago. We've sent and FBI team searching for them, but as of yet they've had no luck." Satisfied with his full attention, she handed him a file containing a handful of photographs.
Kendall took a moment to study the photographs. There wasn't much of interest on them, only various CCTV motion shots of Sydney, in very good disguise passing through a terminal at the Airport and her later going to the ladies' room at her destination Airport, only to step out looking like Julia Thorne again. "Was she travelling alone?"
"As far as we are aware, Sir, there was no one with her." Was all the female agent replied.
"Okay, I want every available agent in that area looking for Bristow. We don't know what she's up to. I want to know where she's staying, why she's there, who she's meeting…Just find something on what the hell she thinks she's doing." It was a clear dismissal, which the minor agent took heed of and made a swift exit.
Kendall continued in his stride to reach his office. Closing the door firmly behind him he crossed over to the large leather chair behind his desk and sat in deep thought.
It had taken him longer than he had anticipated reaching where Sydney had told him to go, but nevertheless Sark gentle rolled the car left down onto the beaten track, which had been exactly where she had said. He admired her awareness of her surroundings, which had allowed them to get this far.
The car rolled to a dead stop concealed from the main road by hedgerows. He paused a moment, simply looking at her. Her eyes flickered beneath her eyelids, and he wondered what monstrous dream she was having to conjure such a restless slumber. He didn't know why he found her so fascinating, or what in particular he was drawn to, but he knew that there was something there; in his mind, when he found himself lingering a little more than he could help. Quietly extending his arm he reached out to nudge her shoulder.
He was certain that she didn't hear his ever so slight movement, yet her arm whipped up from her side in instinctive reflex to freeze his hand mid-air. Her eyes were wild for a brief moment before she recognised him and remembered where she was.
"Bad dream?" He quizzed, curious to know exactly what she had been dreaming about. Then again, with her current situation, it wasn't really hard to guess the basic jest of it.
Gingerly, Sydney straightened to an awake state, quickly scanning her surroundings. Confident that he had brought them to the right place she sat straighter, ready to move. "What time is it?" She asked, looking over to Sark, who had a look in his eyes, which she hadn't seen before. It was completely unreadable, and she wondered what thoughts whirled in his head to cause him to look so deep in thought.
Eager to distract himself, Sark read his watch aloud. "It's almost three a.m."
"Good. We can get on board one of the cargo ships, there's a pretty heavy traffic flow of them at this time of year so we should be able to get one soon." She wasted not time in stepping out of the car, stretching as she did so.
Joining her out in the damp morning air, which hung heavy on them, he gave a brief shudder, feeling the chill. "You seem to know an awful lot about boats." He called across to her, stepping around to the back passenger door to remove their bags. "Any chance you know where we will be ending up?"
"France." Sydney replied, matter of fact, taking her bag from him to sling it over one shoulder. She made sure that it contained the disc they had come all this way to obtain.
Sark was unable to hide his surprise. "Very well", he said, raising his bag to his shoulder in the same manner. "So we'll be walking from here then?"
"Unless you wanna try driving down the dock in an expensive car in early hours of the morning without getting caught!" She snapped back over her shoulder as she began to climb over the hedge row leading into an empty field.
Sark held back a chuckle and instead remained still until she turned around to address him. Seeing her quizzical look he flicked his gaze between her and the car. "You're right." He began. "It is an expensive car…seems such a shame." He shrugged, flashing her a tiny smirk and joined her on the other side of the hedge.
She followed him with her eyes in an attempt to read him. Did he just crack a joke? She wondered in amazement to herself as they set off through the deep grass to the far side of the field. "My God, you're just like every other guy…you'll do anything if the money's right."
He paused in his step, contemplating her accusation and then said, "I'm not doing this for money."
She spun back to him now, ready to defend her statement. "So that eight hundred million isn't a motive for you helping me right now? I find that really hard to believe Sark."
"It's a motive to be sure…but it's not mine." He retorted, continuing across the field.
"So what, you're just helping me because you couldn't bear to see me go down for something I didn't do?" She spat with a hint of sarcasm.
"Hardly, you'd have cleared your name once they found out that it was Jawlenski running the op. I'm doing this because I want to…and that gun you so menacingly threatened me with had something to do with it." He added.
"I should have shot you a long time ago." She muttered as she strode past him to continue to walk. He on the other hand did not follow.
"Look, Sydney, if you're in any way questioning my loyalty to you on this mission then I see no need for me to go any further. I'll take the car and be on my merry way." His face turned stern, awaiting her reply.
She gave a deep sigh to the sky, prolonging the length of time she had her back turned on him. Then she slowly shifted herself round to meet his eyes. They gave a gentle glow beneath the low hanging morning mist. "Listen, Sark, if you want to go…just go. You've helped me this far, which I thank you for, but I take it from here."
He savoured her thanks for a second, and then began shaking his head. "I'm asking you what you want; not what I want."
"Okay then. What I want is to be normal again; a free citizen! I want to be able to have friends without worrying if they're being targeted by my latest enemy! I'd be happy if I could just walk in a place without having to care if I'm being watched or not!" She furrowed her brow, biting her frustration back. "I just want to be free from it all." She sighed, offering him a weak smile, all too aware of how much she had opened up to him.
Sark took a step forward to her, but did not make any attempt to touch her; to follow the strong urge to lift her chin high. "Sydney, we can do this. I believe together we will bring The Covenant to an end, but alone is a different matter."
Sydney gave a lazy nod, whilst turning to distance herself from Sark. "Why does everything have to be so complicated?" She mumbled. Sark followed a short distance behind her as they set off silently to the small hedge, which was now in sight.
It didn't take them long to come upon the large dock side, which didn't seem as quiet as it looked. Looking closely at it, Sark was able to see the skeleton figures of the dock workers as they hauled the last of their shipment up the long wooden ramp and into the cargo hold. He listened carefully, studying their mouths as they called to each other; shouting shipment numbers and destinations.
"I'll take a gamble and say that's our ticket to France." He said quietly.
"I'll raise that and say it's leaving pretty soon." Sydney had been studying the workers also and saw that now they were dismantling the wooden ramp from the tall ship. "As in now!" She added, suddenly sprinting out from their lookout position behind a large industrial waste bin. Sark darted out immediately after her. Together, they ran along the dock side, keeping to the shadows to veer round to the far quay where the last of the crew were boarding the ship via the large cargo door below, left of the wooden slatted ramp.
Sydney ducked behind a stack of empty shipping containers to analyse their current position, weighing up the possible courses of action to board the boat without being spotted. Quickly, she slid her bag from her shoulder and handed it to Sark. "Wait here!" She whispered before spinning on her heel to run back the way they had come.
Shortly after she returned with two blue boiler suits, two pairs of steel toe cap rigger boots and two scruffy old hats for them to wear. "I spotted a locker room back there. These were just lying about."
Sark didn't have time to question her obvious plan and instead set about putting the clothes on. When they we ready they casually strolled out from behind the containers and headed down the quay directly towards the boat. Sydney let Sark take lead, feeling that a male worker would look less suspicious to the man collecting their papers.
Sark closed in on the stocky man stood directly in front of the opening on the side of the ship. "Papers please." The man sighed, holding a hand out to him expectantly. Sark made as if to check his pockets, roaming around his boiler suit and was surprised to find a folded piece of paper stuffed in the breast pocket along with bits of chewing gum wrappers and an empty cigarette box.
The man inspected the document and waved him inside the hull of the ship. Sark hesitated slightly, afraid that Sydney might not have the same luck as he had, but sneaking a glance he saw that she too had a wrinkled paper in her boiler suit. It was clear then that she had planted them there and she must have read his mind, as she flashed him a raise of the eyebrow. After the man had made some cocky remark about having a woman on board, Sydney came to join Sark and they headed out into a narrow endless corridor and snaked their way around the ship.
"The papers were a nice touch." He complemented her as soon as they were clear of any other workers.
Sydney only gave a simple smile as they dance down a couple of flights of stairs to take them lower still. They came across an empty worker's lodge and claimed it, stepping inside to drop their bags in the centre of the room.
"I'd say out attire matches the room rather well." Sark said, examining the dump, which surrounded them. Anyone who had lived in it previously wouldn't be someone he'd imagine he'd like to be associated with.
"It beats a cell at the CIA." She retorted, lowering herself onto the metal framed bed in the corner.
"I'm not so sure about that." He quipped. "At least they offer some basic amenities."
Sydney gave a low chuckle, bringing her knees up to her chest, resting her back against the metal hull side and saw that Sark did the same. "This is going to be a long journey." She told him, no emotion present in her voice.
"I hope you brought a book then." He chided and was pleased to see a laugh escape her.
Kendall was sprung out of his trail of thought with an abrupt knock at his office door. "Come in", he ordered the visitor.
"Mr. Kendall, sir, we have a reported sighting of Agent Bristow." The agent from his conversation previously stepped in the room.
"Where?" Kendall demanded, not wanting to know how much work they had obviously put in to bring him such vital information.
"Headed towards the South docks in London, sir. We believe she intends to board one of the ships there." The agent informed him.
Kendall raised from his chair, his hand already in motion to remove the phone receiver from its cradle to dial a number. "Right. I want to track every ship that sets sail from that dock and I want each one intercepted before it reaches its destination. I do not want her getting of one of those ships." He began to dial a number, but was stopped by the agent's voice.
"Sir, we've already contacted the FBI and they've planted two agents on each ship. If she's on one they'll find her."
"Good work." He saw that she stood taller at his obvious compliment, yet that soon faded as she took her cue to leave his office. "Keep me updated." He said as she returned the door to fit snugly inside its frame.
Still with the phone in his hands, he hung up and began dialling a different number.
They had been sat in their room for over two hours now, yet it seemed an eternity to Sydney. She could hear the clanking above them from the workers who pottered about the ship carrying out various orders from the captain. Shifting uncomfortably she sat straight on the bed and saw Sark, staring blankly at the dull metal floor. She was about to strike up some meaningless conversation to hush the annoying thoughts in her head when a high pitched hum escaped from her bag set in the middle of the room.
She reached inside one of the side pockets to retrieve her mobile phone and recognised the caller. Sourly, she raised it to her ear and answered it. "Hello." Her suspicions of the caller were confirmed when she heard the firm voice which answered her back. "Kendall." She sighed.
Sark's eyes shot up at her, yet he did not move. Instead he observed how her whole body stiffened with the call from a member of the CIA. He saw how her whole attention was offered to the caller and how more correct she spoke, even if she wouldn't admit it. He knew the CIA would always be in her, whether she liked it or not, just as doing what he did would always be his downfall. Seeing her now only confirmed all his theories of how her mind worked. Hearing the forcefulness she added to her voice as she spoke reminded him of her mother, Irina. He had always admired that woman's capabilities and it made him extremely curious to know exactly how alike Sydney and her mother were.
He sat still; listening to the angry muffle of the obvious male caller and admired Sydney's ability to hold her own in the heated conversation. Unsure of what to say, when she had ended the call he gently offered, "A friend of yours?" He saw her clear frustration after having yet another string of contact from the CIA, which he knew she was desperately trying to escape, yet he knew she never would.
"Kendall." She clenched her jaw slightly, rerunning the conversation in her head, trying to pick up on the reason why he'd called. There was no reason for him to call her. He'd already made his views clear that she should turn herself in, so why had he called? Her mind raced for every possibility, and then she froze when it hit her. "They know where we are." She muttered, making it sound so obvious to Sark.
"The CIA?" He prodded.
"Or else why would he have called? He already knew that I wasn't going to turn myself in…" She thought out loud.
"Do they know I'm with you?" Sark continued with the many questions he had.
Sydney snapped her head up, realising he had been talking. "I don't know." She answered honestly. "But that's not our main concern. We don't know where they've seen us, or if they think I'm doing this alone. What if they know we're on this boat?"
"I don't know about you, but I don't want to wait around find out." He told her, edging off the bed.
"We have to get off this boat before it reaches France." She replied, returning the tattered cap to her head, rising to a tall stance. "Come on." She ordered, popping the disc from the other side pocket of the bag inside her sweat jacket to sit snugly against her stomach. She then slipped out into the hallway.
"Our bags?" Sark asked, yet didn't hesitate in following her.
"We can't afford to bring them with us." She replied quietly, stalking down to the end of the long passageway.
"I was meaning that they're evidence we were both here." He added, close behind her.
"They already know we're here. Believe me it wont make much difference." She paused before the hallway cut sharply to the right, listening for any clobber of boots. She was certain that she would hear anyone wearing them as even she couldn't bring the ones she was wearing to quietly creep along the floor. It was comforting to know that Sark couldn't either.
They were soon only a few flights away from breaking out onto the deck of the ship, which she knew would be much harder to keep hidden. Nevertheless, they clambered up and mingled in with other workers, who were tagging various cargo containers with destinations. Making their way round to the side of the boat they scanned the dimly lit landscape in hope of confirming their location. However, it was almost impossible to know, for having been cooped up below deck for a good few hours.
"The tides flowing East." Sydney informed Sark, who was stood slightly behind her. "That'll carry us most of the way to the coast." There was no hint of doubt in her voice and Sark knew she wasn't kidding when she then continued to slip her feet from her boots and remove the boiler suit and scruffy cap.
"Are you sure this is our best option?" Sark demanded, choosing to stay put firmly behind her.
"If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in a prison cell then I suggest you come with me." She retorted, lifting herself up on the cold steel railings, which ran around perimeter of the boat.
Hesitantly, Sark drew his feet from within his own boots and stepped forward to do the same. However, he jolted back at the sound of a whirring sound close to his ear. It was then that he realised it had come from the passing of a tranquiliser dart directly into Sydney's left shoulder.
She gave a moan of objection as she recoiled backwards, unaware of how limp she quickly became. Sark stepped forward slightly to keep her upright, yet thought it better to set her down on the ground. He heard the falling footsteps of the shooter, closing in on them fast and knew his options for escape were slim. "Sydney!" He shook her, in some pathetic attempt to revive her, but seeing that she had taken a full dosage of the dart he knew she would be out cold for a good half hour; time which they did not have.
With surprisingly deep regret he quickly slid the zip down on her jacket and removed the disc, popping it in his own pocket. Although she was almost completely unconscious, she mustered the last of her energy to object to his action in taking the disc, trying desperately to grasp his hand.
"Don't worry, Sydney, I'll come back for you." He bid her a goodbye, not wanting to abandon her, but he knew there was no use in them both getting caught, especially, when she would have had the disc on her to confirm that she was the one to have stolen it.
Sydney could do nothing but lie there in her own defeat, helpless. She cried inwardly as she felt Sark take the disc, but she could do nothing. After hearing the muffle of Sark's voice she knew that he was gone, and all she could do was wait for her shooter to come. Then, seconds later she heard the distant echo of a man's voice radioing to, who Sydney assumed would be, his partner and then there was the sweetness of nothing.