A/N: I am so, so, so, so, sorry for not updating this in such a long time. Did I mention I was sorry? Anyways, school's been so busy that I haven't even had a chance to enjoy snow days to their extent. I hope to update soon, but unfortunately I can't make any promises. I hope I still have some loyal reviewers out there! And one little note about this chapter, I know that there is a lot of action going on, but it's a habit of mine. So hope you and enjoy! Oh, and one more word to ABC otherwise I think I'll go insane. There BETTER be a NEW ALIAS on THIS SUNDAY or I'M-what can I say? I'll keep complaining!
Chapter 10
Lauren Reed Vaughn sat on her bed dressed in a newly pressed blue suit with her cordless phone in her hand. It was six thirty and she intended to leave work any minute, but she had not heard from Michael in several days. Lindsay had reported in saying that Sydney had escaped and nothing more. Lauren hated the fight she had had with him before he left and she berated herself for betraying his trust. It's true Michael had never given her a reason not to trust him, but the return of the women who had taken his heart with her to the grave two years ago honestly made her jealous.
She closed her eyes in grief as she recalled her actions. Transferring Sydney and then informing the NSC about her being Lazarey's murderer when Vaughn had specifically asked her not to. Though she felt she did the right thing by reporting Sydney because it had been her job to find Lazarey's murderer, she felt bad that she had betrayed Vaughn. She wanted to set things right and even though the phone didn't seem the right method to apologize, she also needed the reassurance to do so.
In a little cottage thousands of miles away, a piercing ring broke the silence that was otherwise filled by the rain. Both Jack and Sydney turned their heads towards the bedroom where Vaughn still slept, startled at the noise. Vaughn himself, though his figure couldn't be seen through the door had sat up abruptly and was now searching frantically for the phone in the dark. A second later Jack Bristow came bursting into the room. He instantly reached out to the glowing phone Vaughn had just located and took it from his hand. Jack quickly hit the end button and turned off the phone.
"What-?" Vaughn asked in surprise.
"No one can know we're here. The NSC can easily trace any outgoing phone messages. No calls are to be made inside this house," Jack threw Vaughn back his phone and left the room while Lauren hung up her phone in despair. Apparently Michael didn't even want to talk to her. She felt tears of sadness crawl down her cheeks. She brushed them away slowly and stood up. Reaching for her coat she strode to the door with determination. She was going to find him and help him in any way that she could. Nothing was going to stop her.
* * *
Vaughn pulled on his pants and stumbled out of the room to face Jack. "What about your phone? You made a call from it just yesterday!"
"My phone is not CIA issue, therefore it can't be tracked but to the nearest cell-phone tower, but for your information since you seem to love questioning my ethics, my cell-phone does remain off, as will yours, when it's not in use," Jack ordered.
"But what if it's Weiss or Lauren-"
"Stop it both of you!" Sydney demanded as she interrupted their argument. "The cell-phones will remain off for safety sake. Right now, we need to try and figure out who this possible mole could be. Once we find that out we can figure out what our next move is."
"What mole?" Vaughn asked. Sydney quickly explained the conversation she had with her father. "Do you have any ideas?"
The three of them moved back towards the kitchen table. "No, there's no reason for me to suspect anyone."
"No one in the office?"
Sydney thought for a moment. "No one really specific. My partner for the last mission, Anita Porter is secretive, but that's really all I have to go on." Sydney sighed. "You know, we'll never get any answers to the question if we're stuck in here in the middle of France."
"We have no choice," Jack stated.
"I know," Sydney whispered.
* * *
Lauren moved her fingers frantically across the keyboard as she accessed the latest phone records trying to find out if Vaughn had called the CIA to talk to Weiss or someone else. The only inconsistency she could find were two calls made by a man named Patrick Willis to the Opt-tech center, Marshall's office. She needed to cover all bases so she decided to ask Marshall about the calls.
She walked up to the atomic doors and waited for a moment for them to open. Marshall was sitting hunched over the counter typing urgently and then stopped to read what he found. He repeated this pattern until Lauren finally cleared her throat to get his attention.
"Oh, sorry," Marshall said closing the top to his computer quickly. "Mrs. Reed, hi. How long have you been standing there? I'm sorry it's just I get so involved in my work-"
"Marshall it is fine, really," Lauren said with a smile. She always liked Marshall and his jumpy and ready to please attitude. "I just wanted to ask you some questions about a few phone calls that were made to you under this number," she said handing him a piece a paper that she had jotted the number down on.
"Am I in trouble?" Marshall asked as he looked at the number and then nervously back up at her. Inside she wondered what had caused him to ask such a question, but she reassured him that wasn't the case.
"Jack Bristow called me looking for a street in Paris."
"Jack Bristow? You're sure?" Marshall nodded. "When?"
"Yesterday, I don't know, nine-ish."
"What street was he looking for?"
"Well, he was actually tracing a call from a-a phone booth and I traced it and called him back and are you sure I'm not in trouble because honestly all your questions are making me nervous and I feel as if-"
"I assure you this has nothing to do with you," Lauren said giving him a comforting smile. "Now what was the street you gave to Agent Bristow?"
"Le rue de fois. The road of time," he translated. "That sounds romantic. I would love to see it sometime," Marshall fantasized, but by this time Lauren had thanked Marshall quietly and ducked out of the room before he had time to say anything more.
She returned to her desk to sit down and think. Obviously Jack Bristow was not still on le rue de fois, but she doubted he'd leave the country. The question was, where would he stay? Lauren stared at her computer screen as the cursor blinked patiently. She had reached a dead end.
* * *
Sydney and Vaughn sat awkwardly in the kitchen, each with a can of some type of attempted meat. Jack had taken it upon himself to going out and finding real food, supplies, disguises, and ammunition, which left the two of them alone. The previous night's events hung heavily in the air along with the dense humidity from the morning's rain. Sydney could tell when Vaughn took his eyes off the contents of the aluminum can and placed them on her and all she did was waited for him to say whatever it was she knew he wanted to say.
"So how are things with you and Lauren?" Sydney asked unable to think of anything else to say. The question seemed so random and completely oblivious to their current situation that it was all Vaughn could do to not burst out laughing, but he managed to reply with only a hint of a chuckle.
"Currently, things are kind of distant between us." Sydney smiled at his double meaning and Vaughn smiled back. It was if the scenery around them had faded as had the past and future, and all that remained was the two of them.
Vaughn's smile slowly faded as the scenery once again reappeared and his own confession hung heavily in his heart. "Sydney I-"
The two agents froze. The sound of crunching gravel outside had been a loud blunder that didn't escape either of their attentions. Both knew that it was not Jack, for the approach of a car would have been quite obvious. Sydney jumped up casually from her seat and started to head for the bedroom to get her gun when a silver canister flew through the window and began to fill the house up with a thick white smoke. Sydney instantly covered the front of her shirt over her nose and mouth, and as she looked over at Vaughn, she saw he had done the same.
She ran into the bedroom as the sound of breaking glass and splintering doors began to fill the whole house. She and Vaughn took cover in the bedrooms as men in black tactical uniforms appeared in the living room with gas masks and raised guns. As Sydney began to fire at them, she cursed the CIA for not having put windows inside the bedrooms.
Meanwhile, the smoke began to make it difficult to see, and as small amounts infiltrated her flimsy facemask she began to feel light-headed and woozy. "We need to get out of here!" Sydney yelled between shots. Vaughn nodded his reply and slowly the two of them began making their way towards the back door. Sydney covered Vaughn as he shot at the doorknob in order to unlock it.
Leaving the house was slow progress. The group, which Sydney assumed was the NSC, had the building surrounded. While Vaughn attempted to clear a route through the back door, Sydney was firing at those agents who were still entering the house through the front door and windows. Luckily, the fresh air from the open door did wonders to clear out her sense of dizziness.
The stream of men coming in through the front had slowed significantly and Sydney figured it was because the men were being regrouped towards the back. Sydney tapped Vaughn's shoulder and pointed towards the front door. He nodded, fired a few more random shots, and then the two of them took off towards the front door. They were met with minimal resistance, just as Sydney had hoped, and they continued shooting their way threw the crowd of agents and towards the woods.
Sydney looked over at Vaughn as she ran before making a quick decision. "Split up!"
Vaughn turned his head to face her, but before he could protest, a bullet shot out from somewhere behind them and hit a tree near Vaughn's head. When he had recovered from his near miss and glanced back over to the left, he saw Sydney fleeing figure disappearing down in the woods. Vaughn ran on and prayed that he would see her again.
* * *
The woman at the cashier gave Jack a weird look as she glanced at the various purchases of dye and contact lenses. Jack gave her a quick smile and muttered something about a costume party. He picked up the bags and headed back to the car with his final purchases in hand. He placed the bags in the back seat and waited patiently for the engine to rumble to life.
Jack then performed a series of turns, stops and starts, and checking of his mirrors before he was satisfied that he was not being followed. When he reached the entrance to the gravel road however, he felt his heart quicken. The tire treads within the road were deep, and inconsistent. From the looks of it, at least two vans had traveled down the road heading towards the house.
His first concern was for Sydney. He didn't know if the NSA or the Covenant had made those tracks, but he either way, he knew he shouldn't go barging down the road after them, but at this point, his concern was only for his daughter. He pulled out his gun and reached for some extra cartridges he had just purchased, leaving them on the passenger seat next to him. Slowly, he headed to the safe house while he kept an eye on the roads for anything suspicious. He met up with three black vans halfway to the house.
Jack assumed that they had heard his approach because the back doors opened slowly and an agent peeked out, his gun raised. Jack pushed the automatic window button, and as the glass separating him from the outside slowly disappeared he thrust out his arm and fired. The man fell to the ground before he even knew what was happening. As if suddenly aware of the dangerous situation the remaining men who were left in the van fled to the front and started the engine, but Jack was quick. He fired at the back tire effortlessly and it blew out. The van skidded as the driver braked sharply. Soon sounds of bending metal filled the air, as the three vans seemed to run into each other, each triggered by the first.
Jack slammed his car door shut after having grabbed the spare cartridges and having stuffed them in his coat pocket. He cautiously stationed himself behind the now sideways van with the flat tire. After waiting there for a few seconds, he heard another car door creep open. Jack listened to the sound of the footprints as he began to round the side of the van, heading towards the convertible. With his back touching the van the whole time, Jack slid around so the man wouldn't see him. However, as soon as he had a clear shot of the armed man, Jack fired and the man hit the ground.
Uncertain of how many men remained in the car Jack crept towards the first van hesitantly. With one hand on the handle of the back door and with one hand fixed on the trigger he took a slow calming breath and pulled it open. The back compartment was empty but instinct had him duck down just in time to avoid shots fired by a man taking cover in the front seat. Jack fired back up from his crouched position on the ground and estimated where the man was from the brief sighting he had had of him. His guess was accurate and the firing ceased. Jack ran up to the driver's side of the vehicle and jumped in, pushing the body of a man he now understood to be working for the NSA out of the way.
Metal creaked and groaned as it rubbed up against its double once again as Jack continued his journey back to the house.
* * *
Sydney didn't stop running even when she knew that they weren't following her anymore. She just felt better if she kept moving in an unfamiliar place. She didn't like not knowing where she was or where she was heading. The woods that acted as her protection against the outside world seemed to get denser as she moved on and she had no idea where she was headed.
Subconsciously she found her legs slowly down more than she had intended until she finally fell into a walk as she breathed in deeply the damp air. There also seemed to be a constant rustling that echoed through the woods. Sydney assumed that a light rain was still falling, but the trees created a natural umbrella of which it only dampened her clothes with an occasional oversized drop.
Sydney looked around. She felt an uncomfortable sensation that someone was watching her and that made her nervous. With the covering trees overhead the woods were dark enough, but with the combined efforts of the swirling sky damp with rain any light that could have possibly shone through was deterred by two-to-one.
With the increased sensation of company, Sydney began to casually quicken her pace until she realized that her worries were coming to life as light footsteps on fallen leaves began to echo unevenly with her own somewhere behind her. She quickened her pace and the footsteps behind her did the same. As she continued her transition from a jog to a full out run she seemed to realize that the footsteps no longer seemed to be behind her but somewhere next to her till finally they seemed to be coming from in front of her, but she couldn't see a thing.
Suddenly she heard an all too familiar sound and orders yelled by a less familiar voice.
"Don't move, Sydney. Don't make me have to use this."
* * *
After thirty minutes of almost straight running, Vaughn stopped to catch his breath. He placed his weight on a nearby tree by way of his hand as he stood with his left had behind his neck to rid himself of a combination of sweat and condensation from all the humidity. He figured they had lost interest him about twenty minutes ago, but another ten minutes of running seemed suitable. Now, his break gave him a chance to consider his next plan of action.
Vaughn didn't know how Sydney intended for them to find each other again, but he hoped he'd run into her soon. Playing a game of hide-and-seek is only fun if you know you don't have a possibility of having your life destroyed if you lose.
He looked down at his watch and instantly groaned as he realized he forgot to put on the watch he wore so much that there was a very pale imprint of it all around his left wrist that contrasted deeply with his California toned skin. With dreary weather and the covering trees, it was impossible to tell whether or not it was two in the afternoon or two in the morning, or even if it was two at all. Vaughn sighed and decided he would give it a guesstimated hour before heading back to the house. He hoped that by that time she would have doubled back assuming the same thing of him.
Vaughn looked around, completely lost without any sense of direction. As a boy scout he had been taught about finding his way by looking at the stars and the plants to what direction they grew, but with the overhead canopy covering the ground, all that knowledge proved to be useless in this situation. Luckily, he knew which way he had just came and would follow that back, but that didn't make him any more assured towards Sydney's circumstances. The NSA after all, was after her not him. If they found her he would never be able to forgive himself. It would be his entire fault too. He never should of told Lauren. No matter what reasoning he made up to make himself feel better, he never should have told her. And if for some reason Sydney didn't come back, he would regret never having fixed his mistake for the rest of his life.