A/N: Five reviews? Only five reviews? I hope my story isn't becoming boring! Well, I promise this next chapter will get your blood pumping. Hehehe…
oOspuffy4everOo: I like your one word summary. "Wow" is a very powerful review!
Fair Cate: Thank you, thank you, thank you very much!
Natalie: Ah, never apologize for being a S/V fan! Heck I was jumping up and down last night when I found out that Vaughn suspected Lauren. I was/am so happy to find that the truth is finally coming out!
Chapter 13
Michael Vaughn found himself in the same position he always found himself back when Sydney had been on missions for SD-6. He lay on his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling. He knew he needed to sleep, and he knew sleeping would allow him to see Sydney faster, but the worry kept his eyes open and his mind focused.
His main train of thought was his own berating for not accompanying Sydney so he could protect her. Sydney had been so angry with him lately he figured that even if he'd offered, she'd say no. In actuality, he knew that she had every reason to be mad at him; the only problem was she didn't know that yet. Or did she? He wondered. No, if she knew we wouldn't even be on speaking terms. His guess was that at this point it was just suspicion.
Vaughn shifted in his bed slightly but stopped when he felt Lauren's form shift as well. He had forgotten Lauren was there. Her presence seemed to ruin the purity in his thoughts as he convinced himself that his concern for Sydney was that of a friend. The guilt wouldn't leave though, and neither would his anxiety. Vaughn didn't remember ever feeling so trapped.
Vaughn suddenly shifted his head over to the nightstand as a prominent ring caused his cell phone to vibrate. With a direct hand he located the phone and flipped it open. He felt the bed shift once again and then Lauren's eyes on him as he answered.
"Vaughn."
"Mike, you need to get down here."
Vaughn looked at the clock and saw that it was three in the morning. "Why, what's going on?"
"Sydney's mission was a setup. They killed Agent Porter and Sydney is missing." Vaughn felt his mouth go dry and the contents of his stomach stir slightly with dread.
"I'll be right there." Vaughn violently hung up the phone and slammed it onto the nightstand as he ripped off his sheets and began searching for his pants.
"Michael? What is it? What's going on?" Lauren asked, startled by his aggressive moments.
"There's an emergency down at the office. I've got to go in," Vaughn answered as he pulled on his pants and began his search for his shirt.
Lauren used an elbow to push herself off the bed as she watched him in concern. "Do I need to come in to?"
"No," Vaughn answered brusquely as he buttoned up his shirt. She didn't say anything for a moment as he put on his shoes and socks.
"Tell me what's going on, Michael, please?" Vaughn looked over at her. Worry wrinkles decorated his forehead and his mouth seemed to be down-turned in a frown.
"Sydney's mission was a bust. Her partner is now dead and she's gone missing. I have to go in. I'll see you in a few hours." Vaughn kissed her forehead lightly as he grabbed a tie off the doorknob and placed it loosely across his neck and left.
Vaughn felt déjà vu all over again as he remembered the events that led up to Sydney's missing two years. He shivered slightly as he reached for his coat and keys and headed for his car. This time he was determined to see that things turned out differently. Sydney was going to come home this time. She has to come home.
* * *
"Glad to hear that Switzerland was a success."
"News spreads fast, I see."
"It helps when your husband works for the CIA."
"Well, our boss shall be meeting with her in a week. Till then, she's my prisoner."
"You make it sound like you're having fun."
"Indeed, don't you wish you were here?"
"In more ways than one, love."
"I'll be sure to give her your regards."
"I should hope so. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, love."
* * *
"Hey," Lauren said, approaching her husband and giving him a quick kiss on his forehead, hoping it would make the worry wrinkles go away. They didn't. In fact he barely looked up from his computer screen when he greeted her.
"How's it going?" Vaughn sighed and tiredly rubbed his temple.
"Not good. From the evidence at the scene we found out that Anita was left to die, but Sark took the consideration to use tranqs on Syd. The camera feed and the radio signal for all com-links were out even after Jack arrived on the scene, so Sark must have had a vehicle there. The only problem is, we have no proof or idea why, when, or where."
"How do we know it was Sark and not Hendriki?" Lauren asked.
"That's the other problem," Vaughn said as he leaned back in his seat. "Since we weren't monitoring the hotel camera feed, we didn't know that Hendriki and Sark actually arrived together." Vaughn moved his mouse on the screen and pushed a button. A clear black and white picture of the hotel's parking lot was visible. The clock in the corner revealed it to be eight thirty-seven p.m. at the moment that Hendriki's form exited from the driver's seat of a black truck. Vaughn fast-forwarded the clock to fifteen minutes later to reveal Sark getting out of the passenger seat.
"They were working together," Lauren said with her eyebrows drawn together. "Why?"
"Either Sark promised Hendriki some extra money or assurances about protecting his organization, or Hendriki needs something from Sydney." Vaughn tore his eyes away from the screen as he set his jaw in a tight line. He was worried.
"Is there anything I can do?" Lauren asked as she looked him over.
Vaughn shook his head and sighed. "Not unless you know where she is." He looked up at her briefly and saw something flicker in her eyes. Was it fear? Surprise? He wasn't sure.
"I'm afraid I don't," she said evenly. He nodded, expecting as much. Suddenly a cell phone started to ring and Vaughn looked for his frantically.
"It's me," Lauren said apologetically as she pushed the talk button.
"Lauren Reed."
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you never changed your last name."
Lauren covered the mouthpiece and looked over at Vaughn. "I have to take this." Vaughn nodded dismissively as if he had never heard her. So she walked through the center and tried to find a secluded place to talk. An empty doorway proved to be an ideal spot.
"It's about time you called," Lauren hissed.
"I spoke to you a few hours ago, I didn't think I was that irresistible."
Lauren ignored that comment. "I want to come up there."
"You can't be serious. Our employers want you to stay there to keep an eye on—"
"They're focused on the Bristow case," Lauren interrupted. "Why stay here and watch the fishes dangle when I can come there and have some fun?"
"You think it wise to reveal your identity to Agent Bristow?"
Lauren felt her lips curl up in a satisfied grin. "Well Agent Bristow won't be coming back, now will she?"
"No—" Sark replied with uncertainty.
"Then I'll be there before you know it."
"I can't wait."
* * *
Sydney was really starting to miss the conformity of falling asleep in one place and actually waking up there. As her eyes began to adjust and focus on her surroundings, she found that she had been restricted to limited movement. Leather straps buckled both arms down as well as her stomach and her legs. The room however wasn't a dingy dungeon that one might find at the bottom of SD-6. This place had white walls and a tiled floor. It actually reminded her of a doctor's office. White cabinets and drawers decorated on whole wall as well as two built it steel sinks with double sides. She knew however, that unlike a doctor's office, the things in the room would not be used to cure pain.
Sydney moaned slightly as the effort to analyze her surrounds made the room spin slightly.
"I apologize for hitting you twice, Agent Bristow," Sark stated as he walked into the room. "But when you started shooting you gave me the impression that I had missed the first time." Sark smiled as if he knew that was in impossible.
Sydney glared at him. "You kidnapped me two years ago only to do it again now. Not only that but you killed yet another innocent agent. I want answers Sark, and you better start answering."
Sark chuckled slightly. "I've missed your spunk—as you would say. However, since you are the one in the chair, I'll do the questioning." Sark sat down on a nearby stool and pulled himself over to Sydney's side.
"Now as I understand it you have no recollection of your last two years." Sark hardly waited for Sydney to respond before continuing. "Lucky for you, I do, Julia."
Sydney's eyebrows rose slightly at the mention of the name, as Sark watched her carefully. He then rolled his chair over to a nearby drawer and pulled it open and removed a folder.
"The items in this folder will answer all your questions about your missing two years, for it most certainly answered mine." He opened the folder slightly and flipped through the pages as if it were an uninteresting book. Sydney watched the pages move as if she were a third-grader fascinated by a slinky that was moving step-by-step down the stairs on its own.
"I can answer all your questions, Sydney; every last one of them. I can tell you who you were, why you have a scar on your side, and why you couldn't stop Vaughn from marrying Lauren." Sydney looked at him sharply and he gave her a lopsided grin. "I thought that might be of interest to you. All I want to know in return is where it is."
Sydney stared straight back at him. "Where what is?" she asked coolly.
"The final piece. Your last mission before you ended up in Hong Kong led you right to it. The final piece to Rambaldi's puzzle."
Sydney's eyes narrowed. "Sloane found all the pieces and put them together. He solved Rambaldi's puzzle. It was all about peace."
"Peace?" Sark scoffed. "You think that a prophet who figured out binary numbers in the sixteenth century and hid his messages so precisely throughout the world that it took two years just to locate half of them would just promote peace?
"Sloane did put together the devise with a majority of Rambaldi's works but there was something special with page 47. We both knew about the ampoule that would decode the page. The only problem was that even with the ampoule, there were still several blank spots on the page that could be filled with a significant amount of writing. We soon realized that there must be a second ampoule that would decode the rest of the page. We located it in a sunken ship in the middle of the Pacific, in almost the exact coordinates Rambaldi had predicted in a hidden code throughout his manuscript. It gave a detailed explanation of Rambaldi's real plan. Rambaldi always promoted peace, but those who had an incomplete collection of his works, it would be the only message that a man like Sloane would ever know."
"Why are you telling me this?" Sydney asked. She knew Sark didn't intend for her to leave this room with that kind of information, but she didn't understand why he had brought it up to begin with.
"On your last mission you found the final piece to Rambaldi's puzzle, but you hid it from the Covenant. You're the only one who knows where it is." Sark snapped the folder before him shut and leaned forward. "We can make this simple, Agent Bristow. You can give us the location of the final piece and I can be generous enough to give you a peak at your past. Or we can do this the hard way. I'm sure I don't need to elaborate any further." Sark sat back on the stool so that his back was touching the counter.
"Even if I was able to remember where I put it, I wouldn't tell you, but I guess the Covenant can thank themselves for putting me in this situation," Sydney said coldly.
"See this is where things get interesting because it's not the Covenant who erased your memories, Agent Bristow. It was you." Sydney felt her throat run dry. That didn't make any sense. Why did she want to put herself through all this pain of not wanting to remember two years of her life? No, Sark had to be lying.
"Of course you have no reason to believe me," Sark said as if reading her mind, "but I assure you it's the truth and this folder will verify it." Sydney didn't know what to say. In all the possible scenarios and reasons that she had conjured up in her head this reality was nowhere near any of them.
"I'll give you some time to think about whether or not you remember where you hid the artifact, but when I return, I expect a decision," Sark said rising and heading for the door as he threw the folder lazily onto the counter, unfortunately just out of her reach.
"And Agent Bristow, just to inform you, the Covenant will not be so restricted as the CIA in the methods it can use to recover your memories. Keep that in mind."
Sark stepped out of the room and almost ran straight into Lauren. "It's great to see you, love," he said giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "I honestly wasn't expecting to see you so soon."
Lauren nodded, her darkly shaded eyes focusing on Sydney through a one-way hidden mirror. "Has she said anything?"
"Not as of yet. I've been given permission to try—conventional methods of extracting information, but I am supposed to keep her relatively unharmed." Lauren noticed a slight fire glowing in Lauren's eyes, and Sark was actually glad that he wasn't Sydney at the moment, not that she was aware of the glare, but he didn't need to reinstate the cliché about how if looks could kill…
"I don't know why our boss insists on keeping her alive," Lauren stated.
"He remains optimistic that Rambaldi is right and that Sydney would be a deadly asset."
Lauren's voice suddenly became low as she faced him. "Rambaldi better be right. For her sake."
* * *
Jack Bristow never was one to follow the rules directly as they were written, but for once he was glad because it gave him courage to take necessary action when it was needed. The CIA most definitely did not need another man sitting behind a desk twiddling their thumbs and hoping that a lead would pop up on their screen. Agents were meant for action and action was the only way he would get answers.
Jack found himself sitting in his car, barely moving at all, and never daring to shift his eyes from the door of CIA building in Swift Field County. He'd seen every type of agent and desk clerk walk out of the office, but he was only waiting for one person. Finally, he saw her leave the front doors and hop into a red mustang. It was hardly the type of car that a director for any office should be driving, but apparently she had money to spare and she wasn't afraid to show it.
He waited for her to get in and start her car before he did the same. She pulled out into traffic and he followed. She drove without a care, as she hardly regarded the speed limit all. She took corners so fast and efficiently that Jack was afraid that she knew she was being followed, but that was hardly the case as he soon found out when she pulled into the drive way of a large white house with baby blue shutters.
He found a place to park across the street as he turned off his engine and his lights. He watched her go inside her house, turn on various lights, and eventually turn them all off again until all was quiet. He made himself wait a half hour after the final light shut off before leaving his car and making his way up to the front door. He tried the handle and wasn't surprised to see it locked. Conscientiously he looked around before pulling out a lock picking kit and inserting it into the door. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he heard the gratifying click of the tumbler moving out of place and the door opened easily in his hands.
As he entered, he looked around for any sort of security system. A glowing panel on the left side of the wall had a light on it that turned red. He had triggered some sort of silent alarm. He quickly but quietly moved towards the control pad and placed one of Marshall's descramblers near it. Within in a few seconds the numbers registered and he typed it into the keypad. The light instantly turned from red to green. Moving slowly and carefully now so as not to hit anything or make the floor creak he made his way towards the stairs. Thankfully they were carpeted, which helped in the droning out of any creaks.
At the top of the stairs he debated which way to go. There was a door in front of him as well as another door on the left wall and two other doors on the right had wall. To his right, a door stood closed at the end of the corridor, as well as doors on either side along the way, but he figured that the closed door at the end of the hall was indeed the master bedroom and that's where he would find his query.
He pulled out his gun and continued on his path while carefully listening for any sounds that hinted towards movement. Finally he reached the door and pulled it open. A lump had formed under the covers of a queen-sized bed with cream-colored sheets. Light blue walls were painted on either side and an antique lamp sat by the bed on a nightstand. Slowly he made his way to the side of the bed she was laying closest to. With a steady had he put his gun centimeters away from her temple while he reached over with his other hand to turn on the light. He cocked his gun and turned on the light simultaneously only to find that his target was a thick blue-feathered pillow. A moment later, the safety of gun somewhere behind was released as he berated himself mentally for his own stupidity.
He turned around slowly and met Jay's gaze. "I win, Jack."