Disclaimer: See Prologue.
A/N: This is the only chapter that is in its proper order; that is, must be read after the prologue. The following chapters is a disjointed (and out of order, I might add) account of conversations held within the walls of Mr. Julian Sark's cell during his time in federal custody. Enjoy.
"You look like a Neo Nazi," she answered. "With your blonde hair and blue eyes, you could be a poster child for Hitler's Youth."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
She smirked. "Are you begrudging the company? I thought you'd appreciate some after suffering through hell last month. Can you imagine a lifetime of that, Sark?"
He could, and it was a bleak thought. He lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. "Are you here to interrogate me like your father and your dear Agent Vaughn?"
"I don't have to. I was there, remember?"
"So I've heard."
"I killed your girlfriend. Did you know that?"
"Yes, your Agent Vaughn was kind enough to share that tidbit of information with me, thank you."
"Were you upset? Did you cry?"
Her questions irritated him. "No, I didn't cry, Agent Bristow. Allison had a job to do, and she failed. She knew what the risks were. She knew the consequences."
"Were you upset when you found out she was screwing Will Tippin?"
"What the hell are you getting at, Bristow?" He sat up and turned to face her, but she was gone.