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And Merry Christmas everybody.
Chapter Two:
Resemblance
The morning ran smoothly until, when just before recess, the vice principal knocked on the door, with the new student Sydney was expecting.
Sydney walked over, wanting to introduce herself before bringing the child into a room full of strangers. A daunting task for anybody, of any age.
"Her name is Ana." Darren said.
"Hello Ana," Sydney crouched down. "I'm Mrs Vaughn, your…teacher." As Ana looked up into her face, Sydney's voice trailed off into a barely audible whisper and her stomach jolted in a threatening manner.
After six years and of all the places in the world, Sydney couldn't believe what she was looking at. Who she was looking at.
It was crazy, surreal and totally unfathomable, yet Sydney did not doubt it for a second. It looked as if the tangled web mess of a life had finally caught up with her and Vaughn.
"Sydney, what is it?" Rosalea asked, concerned. She had never seen her so frazzled or jittery. It was a talking point of the school- the way that Sydney always seemed calm and collected, even when trying to teach a bunch of screaming six year olds.
"My new student, Ana Mabilard," Sydney said, breathlessly. "Can I see her file?"
"Ok." Rosalea grabbed a manila folder off the top of her filing cabinet. "Here, I haven't had the chance to enter into the school's database."
"Thanks." Sydney opened it. Ana's full name was Anastasie Sybilla Mabilard. Age 6. Nothing was unusual, except that her birth date was around the right time and the number of foster homes that she had been through.
And then it hit her. Sydney couldn't believe that it had taken her so long to even notice it. She was actually quite disgusted at how obvious it was. She thought that they would have been more creative.
There, right in front of her, was the first piece of the puzzle.
Mabilard.
M.A.B.I.L.A.R.D.
R.A.M.B.A.L.D.I.
Rambaldi.
Kendall stood before the agents in front of him. "Here's the big picture. At 2100 hours, you'll be dropped from ten thousand feet over Patagonia. You'll hit the ground a quarter mile from the target building. We have minimal intelligence on this facility, but we believe the fertilization will happen tonight. The chopper will be here in two minutes to take us to the airport. We'll review the operation en route."
When Vaughn got home from work that evening he found Sydney camped out in the study, staring at the computer. Pieces of paper were scattered across the desk, with random notes all over them. All of them in Sydney's handwriting.
Peering over her shoulder he caught a glimpse at the website she was looking at. Something about baby names.
"Uh, Syd," he cleared his throat. "What is going on? Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Huh?" Sydney looked up. She hadn't even realized that Vaughn was there.
"I asked what was going on," he repeated, picking up one of the pieces of paper. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw what Sydney had written.
Anastasie- French variation of Anastasia. Meaning- Of the Resurrection.
Sybilla- Dutch variation of Sibyl. Meaning- a prophetess.
Paper still in hand, Vaughn glanced back down at the desk. There, on one of the pages was the one name that he dreaded to see. Rambaldi.
"Sydney." His voice was gentle as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Can you please tell me what these names are about."
"They belong to a new student that I got today." Sydney replied.
"And since when do you look up the meanings of your student's names?"
"Since…since…" Sydney stood up, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to say. "Since when I looked into her face this morning I was looking at myself aged six."
Vaughn closed his eyes briefly. "Are you saying that—"
"I know it sounds insane. But Vaughn, this girl. I don't know, but my heart is telling me…oh god, I hear this coming out of my mouth and I can't believe it. But…"
"Syd." Vaughn had experienced Sydney like this before and knew that he had to tread very carefully. "Perhaps you shouldn't get too worked up about this."
"Vaughn." There was a slight edge to her voice. "If you want to say something then just come out with it."
"Ok fine." Vaughn drew in a deep breath. "This is not the first time that we've had a conversation like this one. You cannot keep doing this every time that you see a child that resembles you in some way."
"I know that, Vaughn. But Ana she's different."
Vaughn brought a hand up, running it through his hair. "Sydney, please. What are the chances of this child- a child that we are not even sure exists- walking into your classroom?"
"I don't know Vaughn. What are the chances of her given names meaning resurrection and prophetess? What are the chances of her having a surname that can be rearranged to read Rambaldi? What are the chances of her birthday being exactly nine months after—"
"Sydney!" Vaughn's voice was blunt. It was the only was Sydney would listen to him. "Please don't do this to yourself."
"Do what Vaughn?" Sydney demanded. "Just what am I doing to myself?"
"You are torturing yourself- again. And for what? A mere possibility."
"No, more than a possibility. You didn't see her, Vaughn. You can't understand what I saw."
"Then tell me."
"I can't explain it," Sydney muttered, looking totally helpless. Feeling himself soften, Vaughn walked across and wrapped Sydney in his arms.
"Syd, I understand why you put yourself through this, but you need to ask yourself, is it worth it?"
"Yes," Sydney murmured, more to herself than Vaughn.
They were minutes too late. Seconds even. As they entered the church Sark's men were packing up the equipment, with no sign of their superior. There were only three of them, no match for a CIA tactical team. But they were too late for what really mattered.
Against her own will, Sydney slumped against one of the pillars, sliding down to the floor, a hand on her scar. She felt violated, and for some reason, empty. Of all the missions, over all the years, she had never felt such a desire to succeed. Or such utter desperation when she realized that she had failed.
The other agents left her alone. It took all of Dixon's will power not to wrap her in his arms, as he would to his daughter when she was upset. He had never seen Sydney so…so…there just wasn't a word that could describe the anguish written over her face. But even though she was so upset, Dixon stayed away. He knew Sydney and knew that she would want her space.
It wasn't until Vaughn and Weiss appeared, supporting Lazarey in their arms that Sydney finally looked up.
The next day at school Sydney took her entire class out to the playground. Before walking out the door, she grabbed the school's digital camera that she had borrowed for the day.
Outside she made sure that she got a photo of every student. Every single one of them.
Vaughn was seated on the couch when Sydney got home that afternoon. Without a word she walked straight into the bedroom. Grabbing a box from the top of the wardrobe and then carried it back out to the lounge room.
Vaughn knew not to ask anything as Sydney pawed through the box.
"Here," she handed him a photograph. "What do you see?"
"Uh," Vaughn glanced down. "A picture of you on your dad's shoulders when you were young."
"Right." She handed him another one. "What about this one?"
"It's you and your mother. You're about the same age as in the other one."
"OK, then tell me what you see here." Sydney handed over a third photo.
"Syd, what is all this about?"
Sydney held up a hand. "Please Vaughn, just humour me for a sec."
"Ok. It's another photo of you. By yourself this time."
"Wrong." Sydney said bluntly. "That is not a picture of me. That is a picture of Anastasie Sybilla Mabilard. Ana."
Vaughn's head flew up and he stared at Sydney. "This is your new student?"
"Yes, now do you understand where I was coming from?"
Vaughn exhaled deeply. "I see the resemblance, but that doesn't mean—"
"Look closer," Sydney said quietly. "Just look at her."
"Syd."
"Please." Her tone was earnest, and so Vaughn looked back down at the photograph. He couldn't deny that this child was the spitting image of Sydney. But surely that was a coincidence. But then he couldn't disregard her name and…
Vaughn looked up at Sydney, his eyes wide with utter disbelief.
"Syd, she…"
"I know." Sydney put a hand on his thigh. "Now you understand why I couldn't explain it."
Vaughn's gaze fell back on the photo of Ana to, in someway, confirm what he thought he had seen.
"She has my eyes."