Jack watched as his daughter pulled up at the park entrance in his car. He
didn't know weather to be relieved that she was there or terrified that she
was going to get killed. She got out of the car and stalked across to where
Artis and White were. She looked furious, Jack noted. Every inch of her
body was brimming with fury.
The two men stopped talking as she approached, but made no effort to move towards her. She had left the crossbow in the car, along with a cell phone she had 'borrowed' from Andrews.
"I'm here. Where is he?" she demanded. Her voice was hard and steady. She held White's gaze easily and it was White who looked away first. When he didn't reply, she turned her gaze to Artis. He didn't answer her.
"Well? I'm waiting." She said.
"You'll see him, soon enough." White said. He sounded shaken. Syd knew that it was him who was going to give her any information, not Artis.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked angrily. "He could be dead right now."
"You'll just have to trust us, won't you?" Artis spoke to her for the first time since she had arrived in the park.
Artis put out a hand to touch her hair. She looked at him with utter loathing in her dark eyes.
"Don't." she said simply. The hate in that one word was enough to freeze his hand before he could touch her.
"Don't what?" he asked silkily, although he already knew. All traces of his original accent had been dropped. She realised with a jolt that he was copying the way both Vaughn and her father both spoke.
"Touch me." She snapped.
"You're different now, you know." He said. "Not at all like you were when you were my guest at the warehouse."
"People change." It was a simple fact stated easily by her. "Plus, I was never a guest. I was a captive, a prisoner."
"No, they don't. They only think they do." Artis said. "Take me, for example. I haven't changed one bit, have I?"
"No," she admitted, "But I have." A flicker of movement behind him caught her eye. She realized that it was her father, who was creeping up on Artis with a very deadly look on his face.
"I hope you like sharing a room." She said sweetly, smiling at the perplexed expression on his face. Jack's stolen gun made contact with his temple and he froze.
"Hey Dad. You okay?" she asked quickly
"I'm fine, sweetie." He said with a quick smile. "I've got this, Syd." Jack added.
"Thanks." She said, knowing that again, business would have to come before pleasure. She turned and walked away, heading for her car and borrowed cell phone, satisfied that White wasn't a threat.
"Wait!" White called, sounding almost panicked. She slowed her pace, but didn't stop. "Sydney, wait!"
She stopped, but didn't turn. She could hear him as he ran across the short expanse of grass separating them. He caught up to her and stood catching his breath next to her. Before he could speak, she cut him off
"The man in Russia, the one who shot me with a dart, that was you. You ordered him to, didn't you?"
"Yes, but the damn thing was never meant for you, Sydney. It was meant for. to hit Vaughn."
The two men stopped talking as she approached, but made no effort to move towards her. She had left the crossbow in the car, along with a cell phone she had 'borrowed' from Andrews.
"I'm here. Where is he?" she demanded. Her voice was hard and steady. She held White's gaze easily and it was White who looked away first. When he didn't reply, she turned her gaze to Artis. He didn't answer her.
"Well? I'm waiting." She said.
"You'll see him, soon enough." White said. He sounded shaken. Syd knew that it was him who was going to give her any information, not Artis.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked angrily. "He could be dead right now."
"You'll just have to trust us, won't you?" Artis spoke to her for the first time since she had arrived in the park.
Artis put out a hand to touch her hair. She looked at him with utter loathing in her dark eyes.
"Don't." she said simply. The hate in that one word was enough to freeze his hand before he could touch her.
"Don't what?" he asked silkily, although he already knew. All traces of his original accent had been dropped. She realised with a jolt that he was copying the way both Vaughn and her father both spoke.
"Touch me." She snapped.
"You're different now, you know." He said. "Not at all like you were when you were my guest at the warehouse."
"People change." It was a simple fact stated easily by her. "Plus, I was never a guest. I was a captive, a prisoner."
"No, they don't. They only think they do." Artis said. "Take me, for example. I haven't changed one bit, have I?"
"No," she admitted, "But I have." A flicker of movement behind him caught her eye. She realized that it was her father, who was creeping up on Artis with a very deadly look on his face.
"I hope you like sharing a room." She said sweetly, smiling at the perplexed expression on his face. Jack's stolen gun made contact with his temple and he froze.
"Hey Dad. You okay?" she asked quickly
"I'm fine, sweetie." He said with a quick smile. "I've got this, Syd." Jack added.
"Thanks." She said, knowing that again, business would have to come before pleasure. She turned and walked away, heading for her car and borrowed cell phone, satisfied that White wasn't a threat.
"Wait!" White called, sounding almost panicked. She slowed her pace, but didn't stop. "Sydney, wait!"
She stopped, but didn't turn. She could hear him as he ran across the short expanse of grass separating them. He caught up to her and stood catching his breath next to her. Before he could speak, she cut him off
"The man in Russia, the one who shot me with a dart, that was you. You ordered him to, didn't you?"
"Yes, but the damn thing was never meant for you, Sydney. It was meant for. to hit Vaughn."