Ooh, look! I'm updating… in what could be record time… are you amazed? Cuz I sure am…
FF.net: I'm suddenly getting almost no reviews on this, and it makes me sad. I don't like to be the kind of author who won't update if I don't get 12.47 reviews or more, but if I'm not getting anything, I don't see the point in updating here. Sorry, not trying to be threatening or anything… not that I think anyone would be scared… anyway, on to the fic.
Today is passing by very slowly. I've been up since 6; it's now 11:30. Most of that time has been spent on figuring out exactly what I'm supposed to tell Francie when I go meet her at her restaurant in about two hours. Until that time comes, I have plenty of time to think, and that's all I have been doing.
After Irina and I got back from Mexico, it was another 2 weeks before I heard from her again. During that time, however, I received four calls from Jack. The first one, which came the day after the trip to Mexico, was none too happy.
"Agent Vaughn, where the hell were you? I tried to call you twice yesterday."
"I went to Mexico… with Irina. Wait- why did you call twice? Did something important happen?"
"Why did you go to Mexico with Irina and Sark?"
"Sark didn't go, it was just Irina. Jack, is something going on?"
"Alliance headquarters was bombed. What happened in Mexico?" My mind stuck on the Alliance bombing- probably partially because I didn't want to be the one to tell him what had happened, and I hoped to delay it. But something about it bothered me.
"Alliance headquarters was bombed? How can you just say that so casually and move on to the next topic?"
"Because right now, Agent Vaughn, the Alliance is not my main focus. Until I know Sydney is back and safe, I don't care what the Alliance and SD-6 wish to do. Now tell me what happened in Mexico." I knew he was getting annoyed; he called me 'Agent Vaughn' for the second time in the space of five minutes. By that time, things had progressed to the point of near friendship. He usually just called me Vaughn, and sometimes even Michael.
"Agent Vaughn." His impatient, brook no argument tone quickly snapped me out of my thoughts. I sighed, and proceeded to offer a brief but accurate synopsis of what had happened in Mexico.
"She was there? In a car not 10 feet away, and you didn't get her?"
"What did you expect us to do? Hijack the car in hopes of finding Sydney in the back? We expected Michaels' to have information that would lead us to somewhere else, not to actually have been holding Syd!"
"What about the pictures?"
"What about them?" I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt sick all over again at the very thought of the images.
"Did you bring them back?"
"No." He sighed, and once again I knew he was angry. But I think he understood the reasoning behind it, because he didn't press the issue. Before I could ask him any questions about the Alliance headquarters, he spoke again.
"I'll be in touch Vaughn. Be careful." And then, as always, he was gone. He called again the next day, just to check in he said. But I got the distinct feeling that something was up. Jack wouldn't say a word, not that I was surprised. The whole scene was repeated when he called 4 days later, though this time he made it even more unsettling, by adding one last comment just before he hung up.
"Vaughn, be careful, and be ready." I had no clue what he meant, and no way to figure it out.
Finally, 11 days after returning from Mexico, he called one more time.
"You're not busy tomorrow?" I really didn't know if that was a question, or if he was telling me I wasn't busy. Either way, it took a moment for me to answer.
"No, I'm not. Why? What's going on?"
"Meet me in Toronto tomorrow night."
"What? Toronto, Canada?"
"No, Toronto, Brazil. Of course I mean Canada."
"Can you at least tell me why? If it's not directly relating to Syd, I don't want to go all the way out there. I can just as easily stay here and keep trying to dig up dirt on Michaels and his associates."
"Vaughn, Colin Michaels is dead, and dead men tell no tales. However, live ones do. And trust me, you want to hear what this one has to say." I sighed. There he went with his cryptic statements again. He was beginning to remind me more and more of Irina.
"Who is it Jack, and what does he have to say? Can't you just paraphrase."
"No! Michael, this is important. You need to be there." I heard urgency in his voice, and that was what finally swayed me.
"All right. I'll be there, Jack. Where are we meeting?" He laid out the specifics and I went to Kendall to work something out. He was too caught up in trying to catch Irina again to worry about me, so he told me to take the day off. In all honesty, I think he was just getting sick of me, and was more than happy to have me away for at least one day.
That night, I was only at the bar for 20 minutes. I had one drink, and then I headed home to pack. I didn't think I'd actually need anything, but it never hurt to be prepared.
The next afternoon, I was disembarking in Toronto. We were meeting at an abandoned hockey rink- Jack seemed to favor old, abandoned buildings for discreet meetings- and I didn't want to be late. I finally found the building, and paused outside, steeling myself for whatever Jack had waiting for me inside. After taking a moment to gather my composure, I walked in.
No amount of preparation could have had me ready to walk in and see Jack Bristow standing with Irina Derevko, while Sark stood off to one side, and Marcus Dixon sat near them.