Chapter 8

Roger and Eric's apartment, the evening

The trip from the hangar was oppressive, neither Weiss nor Van Der Meer daring to break the silence in the car. So to relax the atmosphere, Eric offered to the company to take a drink in their apartment, which adjoined Jack's. And, to their great surprise, even the latter agreed to come.

The three of them are settled in an amber colored large living room with a martial decor; they can enjoy the most wonderful view through the bay window. They are watching the city that twinkles of a thousand lights, not as much as Los Angeles, but the bright melting colors give it a simple and sparkling beauty.

Eric took care to serve their drinks: a whisky for Jack, tequila for his colleague and a good cold beer for himself. Sitting on the couch, Weiss and Van Der Meer analyze the results of the lastest baseball games, which they follow faithfully. The atmosphere is quiet and relaxing, the evening goes calmly.

Jack remains silent and sips his drink. He watches the comings and goings of the lights of the city below and seems relaxed. Suddenly a question bursts forth from his lips, "Did you enjoy the show?"

Van Der Meer feels himself turn pale all of sudden. His hands are shaking and he breaks into a cold sweat just as Jack turns towards them slowly and throws them an icy glare.

Open-mouthed, Roger looks at his accomplice as he silently searches for support. It's a waste of time; Weiss is as pale and anguished as he is. Nevertheless, he manages to utter a few words as he is hopelessly searching for several plausible reasons as to why they were in that park.

"Agent Bristow… I believed the call you got when we were in the command centers… you were worried by that call… you had problems… So, I thought we had to protect your back… So, we followed you."

Jack raises one eyebrow and turns towards Eric. Until now he had glared at Roger who is near an apoplexy fit.

"Agent Weiss, in regards of my close protection... I decide!"

He gulps his whisky down and leaves the room where the two agents remain worried and stunned, and relieved at the same time.

48 hours later, Johannesburg International Airport

Van Der Meer and Weiss are carefully walking back up the yellow dry grass which runs along the runway number 12 facing North-East. They are well hidden by the dark night and are heading towards the technical area. As for Jack, he is infiltrating the 4B hangar in order to bug the illicit freight.

Eric and his colleague reach the rear of the first building on their route. Their backs against the wall, leaning in as possible as they can, they go along because they have to gain access to the next building. When they arrive at the corner, Van Der Meer quickly bends around and scans their surroundings. Nothing! He makes a sign to the others to follow him, and they run for the next building where are the technical locals dedicated to the ILS landing system and the radar surveillance. There, they split since Weiss has to reach the room 1B; they will see each other later at the meeting point outside the airport.

Once alone and still under the cover of darkness, Van Der Meer heads for the farthest local, the 4C. Midway to his destination, he freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries to remain unnoticed. The dog patrol is passing along near where he is standing. His pulse and his breathing increased with adrenalin and resound in his head. Roger is trying to focus only on his hearing to evaluate the direction the man and his dog are following. Eventually, the danger moves away and when the guard is not visible anymore, he sighs, relieved. Then, he swallows the last meters between him and the target, picks the lock of the front door, rushes in and gets right to his job.

At the same moment Weiss is stripping the wires that will serve to connect the device Marshall gave him. He hides it as deep as possible into the trap, connects it and closes the metallic plate before returning to the rallying point. From now on, all the phone communications will be intercepted, analyzed and classified.

"S!" exclaims Van Der Meer. Angry, he throws the screwdriver at his feet and looks at his bloody left index finger. He curses inwardly the half-jammed screws that are to resisting his efforts. He casts a glance to his chronometer: he is late. He resumes his work without waiting, but nothing is going well. The mechanism is jammed. Of course, the bad luck had to happen to him.

"Blackbird to Mickey." He hears in his commlink and it increases his frustration a little more: he does not want to disappoint his idol.

"Mickey to Blackbird."

"Blackbird to Mickey. Update?" Jack's voice is imperious.

"Mickey to Blackbird, operation is ongoing. I'm meeting a bit of resistance. "

"Need help?"

Van Der Meer thinks for a moment about what to say and knows Jack can feel his hesitation. He ends up answering, "Negative."

"Blackbird understood. Moving on," comes the inevitable answer.

Van Der Meer exhausts himself trying to open this stubborn plate, he cannot stand his powerlessness but he does not want to admit defeat either and suffer the humiliation of his failure and Weiss's mischievous comments which would follow.

Time passes, his task does not progress anymore and he mentally notes, 'the next time bring some WD-40. His sweat flows in his eyes, his hands begin to shake and he is near to losing his control. He thinks it is time to stop and gathers together his tools with regret.

Suddenly, Roger hears the sound of footsteps coming over. Immediately, he pulls out his Berretta and shuts his flashlight and turns to face the door. After a long silence, the handle of door slowly rotates without a noise. He catches his breath and prepares himself to shoot the intruder. The door is open; a long and dark silhouette appears. Instinctively, he fires and the shadow collapses with a groan.

Fear and confusion take hold of him while he watches Jack's body smash onto the ground. For a moment, he feels he is going to faint. His throat is clenched and his eyes moisten, nevertheless he manages to react and to rush towards his boss. With his breath cut by the impact of the bullet, Jack continues to groan in pain and slowly rolls on the ground. Van Der Meer lays him down and looks for the wound. He sighs deeply and even feels like crying: thank God for the bulletproof vest!

"Son of b!… You… shot… me!" says Jack with a jerky and husky voice. He coughs, his lungs do not want to resume working normally just yet.

"It was a reflex, Sir… I'm sorry."

"Help me up! It's not the time to whine," he explodes angrily.

Roger helps him to stand up and supports him. Once they are ready, they walk gingerly along towards the rallying point.

The same night, Pretoria

Sydney and Vaughn are rocking comfortably in their double swing chair in an easy silence. Heavy clouds darken the fresh night, and as the temperature and humidity give them goose bumps, they savor a cup of tea. It is one of their rare quiet night spent alone, so they are taking the opportunity to talk and often tackle some extra-professional subjects. She speaks to him about Dora, her new colleague with whom she gets along.

"It's wonderful to be able to build friendly ties with someone as cheerful and sparkling as she is. She reminds me of Francie a lot. They share the same type of character and the same kindness and candor."

"You enjoy talking about her. I'd love to meet her, " he says with a mischievous grin.

"What would you tell her?"

"After 'hello'?" He takes a moment before adding with a steady glance, "I'd thank her a thousand times."

"Why?" She asks him; surprised by both his answer and the more serious way their conversation is taking.

"Simply because she gives you back your joie de vivre, this vitality and mischievousness that were part of you in the past. I'm so glad. The coldness that took hold of you these past months, though understandable, didn't fit you. I began to become anxious, I didn't recognize the Sydney I love, my Syd…" He bends forwards and puts his elbows on his knees and takes her hand. Slowly he caresses it before taking a more serious tone, "Will you come back to me someday?"

Silence sets between them, as Vaughn does not dare to lift his head up and look at her he stays focused on her hand that she has not pulled back.

"Vaughn…" She begins murmuring, "Michael… my feelings for you never changed. My return, your marriage …it was tough, cruel sometimes. This last year was a very difficult ordeal… I don't know yet if I'm able to find new strength in me to make a new beginning. So much failures, false hope… we need time…"

"I understand "he answers with a low voice.

"Let me continue!" she takes a deep breath. "All the people I loved... that I love and whom I trusted… Francie, she is gone. Will is out of my life… My mother deceived me and betrayed me… Even you… You abandoned me and finally… Jack." The inner pain Sydney feels as she talks is almost palpable. "Even me… Everybody abandoned me or betrayed me. I don't know who I can trust or who I can rely upon anymore. My so-called father has given me a very good lesson."

"I'm so sorry, Sydney."

They meditate on the journey ahead of them as they keep their eyes fixed ahead. Then, Vaughn takes tenderly the young woman in his embrace and holds her against him; he hopes he can provide her some relief.

48 hours later

"Hey, Weiss!"

"Vaughn! I'm glad to see you!"

They shake hands, obviously happy to see each other again, before heading to Jack Bristow's office.

"I hope I'm not too late. There was a little traffic today."

"Don't worry! Besides, we have plenty of work to take care of," replies Weiss.

"Do you have more news?"

"More names…" While he speaks Eric, opens the door and lets Vaughn walk first in the room. Jack and Van Der Meer are standing, bent over a map and other documents that are scattered on the table. They lift their heads and greet the newcomer.

The two men move nearer as Jack says, "Mr. Vaughn thank you for coming at last. I made a list of all the locations where the local mafia had to deal with attacks or infiltrations, which are mostly due to theft of illegal merchandize. Their opponents have been in operation for two years, and they clearly want to take a more active and lucrative part of this business."

"Their actions focus essentially in three states," he points the areas on the map, "North Cape, West Cape and Gauteng and also Uptington, Kimberley, Cape Town, Soweto, Pretoria and Johannesburg. I believe that we are dealing with an Afrikaners group. Another useful detail is that they often leave an orange carnation where they have committed their thefts. In my opinion, this is a matter of signing their exploit as opposed to being a provocation."

"Where does all this data come from? We had none of this when we were studying the situation and the environment for the mission?" asks Vaughn.

"I have my sources," Jack retorts to him while Weiss and Van Der Meer exchange a conspiratorial look.
"Has the intel and the source been authenticated?" persists Vaughn sharply as his brow wrinkled.

"In the present case, we can trust my source."

"Ok. Who is he?"

Jack straightens up quickly and eyes icily his interlocutor up and down. Immediately, he puts on his poker face and his hard gaze. "It's… irrelevant. Mr. Vaughn, you are a good agent but there is something still missing for you to become a top agent… something we have already discussed in the past: wisdom. And today I would add the instinct to read the present situation. So, we are going to leave my contact's ID out the current analysis and use this data, and concerning their worth, we'll see…"

Michael yields regarding this rebuff and does not insist anymore. Weiss and Van Der Meer take care not to intervene in that verbal skirmish.

Jack continues, "And yet, this can help us in the future. Nevertheless, Agent Vaughn, you'll handle the investigation about this mysterious group. We need to know who they are and what are their objectives. And you'll need to verify if there are any links between their deeds and the excavation sites of the FoPeSA2H. Any questions?"

Obviously, everything seems to be clear and Jack holds out the folder to Vaughn and asks him "How is the operation going at your end?"

"We have proceeded by elimination. There are only 50 names left on our list of suspects at the university. The President is still on it. For the foundation, the FoPeSA2H, after our investigation, we know that staff members of the cleaning firm, the caretaking or the financial departments have no access to the Rambaldi research. We are watching closely the Director, Mrs. Ruppert,. Sydney is convinced that she is the head of that branch."

"How is Sydney doing?" asks Jack who tries to keep a neutral tone.

Vaughn stares at him and raises an eyebrow, "She's going well. She integrated well the school teaching staff. She possesses a natural sense for human contact, so it's not hard for her. I'm wondering where it comes from?" He could not prevent himself from making this last comment and persists with boldness in the same provocative way. "She gets along well with some professors. Sometime, she talks to me about her colleague, Dora. She's a professor of European Medieval literature and she seems to like her a lot. I'm very happy that this is still possible for her after all she has gone through. "

"Mr. Vaughn!" Jack cuts, obviously exasperated.

"Frankness doesn't suit you, Jack?"

"You are totally unaware of what you are talking about, therefore I advise you to refrain from opening your mouth."

The tone becomes louder as Vaughn's rancor explodes, "Or what? I always remain surprised that after all your manipulations and all your disgusting schemes, she could be so generous and cheerful and open. No thanks to you or her b of a mother. But, now it's over! You've lost her! She had too rough a time with all of that to go on with your s."

Jack's intense stare is becoming threatening, as he is moving toward Michael, trying to intimidate him. But the latter is angry as he sees before him the only one responsible of all the mess, the loss of his love, his stupid marriage, Sydney's distress, and their current relationship … Then he becomes more virulent, "How could you do all of this to her? How could you manipulate your own child? Haven't you got a heart? What kind of man are you? Frankenstein?"

"His creature, Agent Vaughn… only his creature."

Both men openly defy each other with their stares, such two boxers before a combat.

Jack hisses back at him, "Who do you think you are? What exactly is giving you the right to second guess my actions or my decisions? Your compassion? Your… goodwill? Or your great soul maybe? But see the reality, Mr. Vaughn… your last actions were no better than your intentions and mine were even less noble than what you are trying to make us believe. Nothing, absolutely nothing, gives you the right to judge my actions… Do I have to refresh your memory? Where were you great principles with Dr. Lee? Perhaps Sydney can be duped, but not I. So don't come to me playing the offended virgin!"

Weiss and Van Der Meer are staying near them, but they do not intervene in the conflict. Michael is literally shaking with rage. Jack had read him perfectly and targeted his weak point with a surgical accuracy.

Jack, aware that he had aimed dead on with the same methodical precision, continues, "As for Sydney's present state of mind, you are not blameless by far. Do I need to remind you of the rapidity with which you abandoned, forgot and deleted her from your life? I'm far from being a perfect father for her, but I have always had faith in her. Your quick marriage…"

BAM! BAM!

Vaughn explodes. He wanted him to shut up so he hit Jack Bristow's plexus impulsively and forcefully before immediately dealing him a violent blow in his face.

On the impact, the boss falls back fall on one knee to the ground. He regains his balance with his hand and immediately stands up. A cruel grin sets on his lips as he stares at his assailant with icy eyes.

Michael chooses the offensive option and tries to launch another attack, but there is no element of surprise this time. His adversary is taller and more massive and especially faster than he is. Before Vaughn reaches his target, Jack dodges the blow, grabs his fist and twists his wrist. Vaughn finds himself blocked by a painful arm-lock that he had not expected. Struck by a shooting pain, Vaughn lets out a cry and has no other option than to put a knee on the ground. He is at Jack's mercy.

"I would add... self-control." Jack releases him and wipes the blood that is flowing from his nose with the back of his hand. He leaves the room without watching the three men and growls, "The meeting is over!"

Weiss comes to his friend and helps him to stand up. "You are the luckiest fool I've ever seen! What got into you? Do you want to die?"

"Sorry, he got on my nerves!" answers Vaughn still sheepish and aware of his good luck.

"You did a very stupid thing."

As for Roger, he remains surprised; he didn't understand all that they talked about, but now, he understands perfectly what Eric meant in the beginning of their mission... to be careful not make Jack angry. But above all, he is surprised by the ability and the rapidity with which his boss overcame the situation as much on the verbal side than the physical one. His admiration and his respect for him have increased. He thinks with a little apprehension, "I hope that he doesn't despise me because I shot him!"

TBC…

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