Here the next part, hope you like it… always if you read, please review!

Chapter Five

Part One

SphinxMom47: You need to send Russian Boy to Camp next week.

MysteryMan73: Are you sure?

SphinxMom47: Yes, I am ready.

MysteryMan73: All right, but be careful.

SphinxMom47: I will.

MysteryMan73: Do you want me to explain to him?

SphinxMom47: No, it is better to leave him in the dark for now.

MysteryMan73: OK, I'll take care of it. Miss you.

SphinxMom47: If things go according to plan we might see each other quiet soon… until then … I am thinking of you.

MysteryMan73: I know. Goodnight.

SphinxMom47: Good morning to you.

MysteryMan73: Signed off at 9:53:22 PM

SphinxMom47: Signed off at 9:54:47PM

Irina closed the laptop and looked up into her sister's face, "He'll take care of it."

Katya nodded and moved to the window and starred out into the dark night, "I hope you are right about him."

"Who? Jack or Sark?"

Her sister's shrewd eyes didn't leave the glass but Irina felt the tension in the room. "Both… either…"

"I trust both men explicitly, they won't let me down." She sounded sure, but inside doubt was eating at her insides. Sark had been jailed for over ten months; it was hard to tell where his allegiance would lie.

Katya pulled away from the window, "Fine."

Irina was tired, days and nights of not sleeping and worrying about Sydney had taken a toll. But now her searching was over, it was up to Sark to find Sydney. It frightened her to leave it in someone else's hands, but she had no choice all her contacts were used up.

She picked up the black pack and strapped in on her back, entering the adjacent compartment.

Katya already had the pack secured to herself, and with a glance at Irina she flung the door open. The cabin immediately depressurized and the Derevko sisters jumped out of the private jet into the back night, somewhere over the French countryside.

Part Two

St. Malo was like any other French town, filled with culture and a boulangier on every corner. That particular morning, two men in crisp business suits occupied the corner table in one of the many Cafes, one reading the paper and the other constantly checking the perimeter and stirring his coffee.

The larger man had broad shoulders, long fingers (which gripped the paper), a large nose, and hair to his shoulders, secured in the back; giving him an overall burly appearance. On his left, sat a man who distinctly reminded all of a weasel, he had short dark hair and his face was permanently set in a grimace. He had a noticeably nervous twitch in his leg and a looked over all perplexed, "What if she recognizes me?"

"She won't."

"Ha," the weasel let out a haughty laugh; "I don't know I let quite an impression last time we met."

"I'm sure you did," these words rang with a distinct quality of a Slavic language, emphasis on the vowels and a leisurely pace.

The weasel reached across the table a picked up a sugar cube dropping it in the coffee, and continuing to stir, "So you have a lot of faith in Mavejik…"

"Yes, Mr. Cole. It would seem that I do, " the relaxed man abandoned his newspaper as the door to the Café swung open and a woman with blond hair and deadly eyes walked in.

Both men stood and watched her as she approached, Cole trying to appear nonchalant and Sanko grinning, "It is good to see you Julia." Pronouncing it 'U-la' in a distinctly Russian manner, and taking her smaller hand in his.

"Sanko," she leaned over the table that separated them and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Remaining close for a moment he whispered, "You look wonderful as always," then releasing her hand, his eyes turned to the weasel, "this is my associate Mckenas Cole."

Julia didn't miss a beat and held out her hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Julia Thorne."

Cole visibly relaxed and grinned in his most malicious fashion, "Yes, yes. I am quite familiar with your," he paused and cocked his head to one side, "work."

With the pleasantries over Sanko turned to Julia, "I'm sorry for the short notice, I know you have to be in Paris tonight but this couldn't wait."

Julia nodded and sat down, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers together.

"This will be your last job with Mr. Walker, our benefactor has decided it is time to bring you into our endgame. A promotion, if you will."

"You mean Mr. Cole?"

Cole let out cackle then shook his head, "No not me, but I do report to our employer."

Julia nodded and turned her attention back to Sanko, "You could have told me this over the phone."

Sanko thoughtfully stroked his bottom lip and shook his head, "I wanted you to meet Mr. Cole… he is your contact now, I am afraid our relationship has come to an end."

Rolling her eyes she began to play with a blond wisp of hair, "So what's the new gig?"

The weasel rubbed his hands together and leaned forward, "I'm happy you asked my dear… because I'm going to tell you," Cole came off sounding like an annoying game show host form the 70s, " You and I will be working on retrieving and putting to use Rambaldi memorabilia."

The tone in which he said it made it seem as though she just won a brand new car, and microwave, along with a years supply of bacon.

Julia looked momentarily puzzled but then smirked, sending chills down both men's spines, "And why would you need an assassin for this job?"

Cole looked disturbed but sneered in response; "Lets just say our employer has taken special interest in you."

Julia nodded and sighed tucking a stray wisp of blonde behind her right ear. Cole, who had been busily stirring his coffee dropped the spoon with a clank and inhaled harshly. This was an all too familiar gesture.

Turning her eyes to his, Julia sent him a cold smile, "You look like you've seen a ghost Mr. Cole."

He shook his head then rose quickly, "It was a pleasure Ms. Throne."

In seconds he and Sanko were gone, leaving Julia alone to ponder the new developments.

Part Three

As soon as Marc de Chant's plane touched down in CDG he stood and adjusted his glasses, placed his overpriced black over coat on his arm and lifted his dark leather briefcase into his left hand. Inside Michael Vaughn's heart was hammering wildly, and his mind was racing.

Taxing to a private runway, the plane came to a gradual halt and the hack opened, and Monsieur Chant walked out to meet a fleet of black vehicles. Glancing around he didn't see Mr. Walker, so he casually made his way to the man that seemed to head the group.

"Bonjour, Je m'appelle Marc de Chant," seeing the man tense at the French, he switched to heavily accented English; "I come to meet Mr. Walker on matters of business."

"Yeah, I know who you are. Mr. Walker regrets to inform you he is running late, and asked me to see you safe to a private location," he man spoke with a strong accent of someone who had spent their life living in the slums of London, and had never been formally schooled in proper English, a typical brut.

Monsieur Chant nodded and the brut turned and led him to one of the black cars, opened the door for him and once he was fully in, slammed it shut and hit on the roof for the driver to go.

Alone in the back of the limousine Michael Vaughn pulled out his cell phone and pressed speed dial 1, after a few rings a familiar voice picked up, asked a question, to which he responded with memorized phrase, "I've arrived and all is well, be sure to collect my mail."

The voice responded with another standard phrase and then told him to stay safe.

Part Four

Back at JTF Kendall watched as Marshall up linked to the glasses and retrieved the pictures. Studying the face of the man that appeared he nodded to Marshall, "I'll need to the technology to do this from my office next time."

"Oh but I'm don't mind helping."

"Marshall I am afraid that the rest of the information is too sensitive to be handled in an open lab," he gestured to the glass walls and smiled.

As he turned and prepared to leave Marshall turned and looked at him quizzically, "Excuses me Sir, but is it true that you are leaving at the end of this mission?"

Kendall nodded again, "Dixon will take over as Director of this task force. Anyways, Have the tech on my desk by the end of today."

Leaving the Op-tech lab he walked directly into Jack Bristow.

"Oh, Jack I've been looking for you. I was asked to approve Sark's transfer to Camp Harris, why are you moving him?"

Jack looked pained for a moment, it was clear that he hated explaining himself to anyone, "I need information on Derevko's past operations and he wont talk, there is only so much persuasion I can administer here… I thought I would let Alex at Camp Harris have a go."

Kendall paused for a moment then gave a curt nod, "I'll send the request through," he paused and starred Jack in the eyes, "look, Jack, once I am done tying up loose ends I'm out of here."

"Yes I know."

"Just watch your back around Lindsey, he doesn't like you."

"Thank you, I appreciate your concern, but it is unfounded… I can take care of Robert Lindsey."

Kendall shrugged and gave Jack an awkward pat on the shoulder, "It was good working with you."

"Likewise."

Part Five

After leaving the café Sanko had left Cole at the small airstrip and as soon as he got settled in his car he took out and untraceable phone and dialed his employer as instructed.

"How did she take the news?"

"The way Julia always takes news, with a smirk and nod of the head. You don't need to worry."

"Good, things are coming together now. Make sure Walker is taken care of, I want to see how far she has come from being Agent Sydney Bristow."

"Yes Sir. Anything else?"

"Yes. I have been given Intel that Mr. Sark is being transferred to Camp Harris, I want his convoy to be over taken and him be taken into custody with us."

"Yes sir, it will be taken care of."

"Good."

Part Six

The apartment Marc was taken to was furnished with dark tones of red, gold and was chic modern. From the moment he stepped through the door he could tell this was a thoroughly lived in place. A woman's scarf and gloves lay on the table near the door and a full ashtray was on an end table in the living room.

The Brut led him silently into what looked like a study and asked him to wait.

Once alone Vaughn set down his briefcase and tried to appear relaxed. Though wanting to stand and examine the items on the oak desk in front of him he took into account that the Brut had had no qualms about leaving him alone, so logically there had to be a camera somewhere hidden.

For a few moments he tried to pinpoint the location of the camera, but stopped as soon as he saw a small photo on one of the three bookcases in the room. Trying to appear casual he stood and walked slowly to the bookcase, as though to examine the collection of leather bound books.

As he approached he knew he hadn't been mistaken, it was a picture of Sydney. Unaware of the photographer she stood leaning on a railing looking out into horizon. The wind was blowing back the blonde hair and she looked mythological, an evil version of Artemis. As his eyes examined the picture he notices the hands that gripped the railing. One was firmly wrapped around the metal, and the other held a gun.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Spinning around he found himself face to face with Simon Walker.

The upcoming post will take a while; I have school and AcDec so I don't much time to really write. Thanks to every single person that took the time to review, it truly means a lot to me that you did.

PLEASE R/R!