Syd closed her eyes, which stung with exhaustion. She was sitting on a
cream overstuffed chair in her father's house. After she had rescued Vaughn
from the car, they had rung Andrews from a payphone and he had picked them
up in her father's car. They had chosen to wait at the house in case Artis
called, knowing that he would have the number. So far, after almost three
and a half-hours of waiting there had been nothing.
The only phone call had been a wrong number who Sydney had swiftly and cuttingly dealt with, fearing what would happen to her father if they missed the call. She sighed in frustration and started to pace the length of the room again. She was only succeeding in tiring herself out. She knew it, but she had to do something.
She dropped into the chair near to the phone again, exhaustion- both nervous and physical- showing clearly. She rubbed her hand across her face. That one tiny gesture showed Vaughn, who was watching her anxiously from across the room, just how tired she really was. He went out to the kitchen and she heard the fridge door open.
He came back with two cans of soda. "Here," he said passing her the ice cold can.
"Thanks," she said and took the condensation-covered can from him. She popped open the can of soda he passed her with her car key. The sugar and caffeine kicked in after a few minutes and she felt a little better. She rubbed her tired eyes and stretched so hard that her back cracked loudly, protesting at the rough treatment.
"Syd?" Vaughn asked in a concerned voice. "How long is it since you last slept? I mean properly, not just a five minute nap." he said, knowing her habits well. Three years serving as her handler had taught him a number of things about him. One of those things was that she rarely slept as well as she clamed to when he asked.
She thought for a moment, trying hard to remember, then shrugged slightly "I don't know." It was said quietly. "I couldn't sleep at a time like this, anyway." She added sharply. He looked at her pointedly. She shook her head and smiled a little in apology. She didn't mean that to come out like it did, he thought, she's just scared for Jack.
The phone rang suddenly and shockingly. Sydney darted from her seat to pick it up before it stopped ringing. Both Vaughn and Andrews half stood as they waited for her signal. At her slight nod, they both began trying to trace the call.
"Hello?" she said hesitantly. Instead of hearing a voice, all she heard at first was static. Slowly, she was able to make out sounds. The sound of a fist hitting a body. Groans of pain. Swearing. A gunshot. All sounds, to her, that summarised subterfuge. She hated the life she'd so readily gotten herself into. She closed her eyes in despair, feeling the full burden of what she did for the first time in a long, long while. It was a heavy load to carry, but it would be heavier if she lost Jack.
Vaughn came to stand next to her, silently offering his support. Andrews was still trying desperately to trace the call. So far, he'd gotten three numbers, but they didn't tell him much. Vaughn could see by her face that what she was hearing wasn't pleasant. He didn't offer to take over, however, somehow understanding that this was something she had to do by herself.
Suddenly, the sounds were interrupted by a male voice so low she had to strain to hear what was being said. "West Hollywood Park. North entrance. 30 minutes. Come alone and unarmed." There was a click as he put the phone down.
"I have to get to West Hollywood Park." Sydney said and bolted for the door, stopping only long enough to grab the crossbow and car keys.
The only phone call had been a wrong number who Sydney had swiftly and cuttingly dealt with, fearing what would happen to her father if they missed the call. She sighed in frustration and started to pace the length of the room again. She was only succeeding in tiring herself out. She knew it, but she had to do something.
She dropped into the chair near to the phone again, exhaustion- both nervous and physical- showing clearly. She rubbed her hand across her face. That one tiny gesture showed Vaughn, who was watching her anxiously from across the room, just how tired she really was. He went out to the kitchen and she heard the fridge door open.
He came back with two cans of soda. "Here," he said passing her the ice cold can.
"Thanks," she said and took the condensation-covered can from him. She popped open the can of soda he passed her with her car key. The sugar and caffeine kicked in after a few minutes and she felt a little better. She rubbed her tired eyes and stretched so hard that her back cracked loudly, protesting at the rough treatment.
"Syd?" Vaughn asked in a concerned voice. "How long is it since you last slept? I mean properly, not just a five minute nap." he said, knowing her habits well. Three years serving as her handler had taught him a number of things about him. One of those things was that she rarely slept as well as she clamed to when he asked.
She thought for a moment, trying hard to remember, then shrugged slightly "I don't know." It was said quietly. "I couldn't sleep at a time like this, anyway." She added sharply. He looked at her pointedly. She shook her head and smiled a little in apology. She didn't mean that to come out like it did, he thought, she's just scared for Jack.
The phone rang suddenly and shockingly. Sydney darted from her seat to pick it up before it stopped ringing. Both Vaughn and Andrews half stood as they waited for her signal. At her slight nod, they both began trying to trace the call.
"Hello?" she said hesitantly. Instead of hearing a voice, all she heard at first was static. Slowly, she was able to make out sounds. The sound of a fist hitting a body. Groans of pain. Swearing. A gunshot. All sounds, to her, that summarised subterfuge. She hated the life she'd so readily gotten herself into. She closed her eyes in despair, feeling the full burden of what she did for the first time in a long, long while. It was a heavy load to carry, but it would be heavier if she lost Jack.
Vaughn came to stand next to her, silently offering his support. Andrews was still trying desperately to trace the call. So far, he'd gotten three numbers, but they didn't tell him much. Vaughn could see by her face that what she was hearing wasn't pleasant. He didn't offer to take over, however, somehow understanding that this was something she had to do by herself.
Suddenly, the sounds were interrupted by a male voice so low she had to strain to hear what was being said. "West Hollywood Park. North entrance. 30 minutes. Come alone and unarmed." There was a click as he put the phone down.
"I have to get to West Hollywood Park." Sydney said and bolted for the door, stopping only long enough to grab the crossbow and car keys.