For Better Or Worse~~~~~Till the NSC do us Part Total Vaughn
Lover
A/N: Hey! I just wanted to say thanks for the feedback! I really do appreciate it! I am proud to say that this fic is going into S/V! Things are about to get interesting! So please keep reviewing so I know you all do want to read this! And if you haven't checked it out already I have "The Other Side of the Story," "When she Was Bad and my very well read, "The Moment we've been waiting for!" so please check them out as well!!!
Oh and I will update When she was Bad, Never been Pregnant and One Last Wish in Vegas for those reading my multiple fics!!!!
Now for review responses!
Largemarge416: I do appreciate that you like the fact that I'm not just jumping into the Syd and Vaughn thing! I don't' know I feel it'll feel that much better after you've been put through some crap!( just check out how long I made my readers wait before Syd and Vaughn had some sweetness in "The Other Side of the Story!) Lol. Thanks and please keep reading!!!
Chickie-dee: You are writing awesome fics and multiple ones as well. Kudos for your regular updates! Hopefully I'll be able to update sooner! Thanks for reading so many of my fics! You rock! Update again all right?
Supergirl14: Emotional? You bet! I am totally into that angsty Syd and Vaughn thing~~~but only because that means the sweetness to come later will be that much sweeter!
Caroline: Thanks for leaving the e-mail! I will e-mail you with updates! Also wanted to thank you for reviewing The Other Side of the Story, you have no clue what that meant to me! I love ya lots, please keep reading! Talk to ya lataz
And without further ado (hoping for even more reviews) I give you
Moscow Nightmare (cont)
Twenty minutes later the party for Mr. Michael Vartan was in full flow, with beautifully dressed people moving to mingle from one group to the other.
Sydney was chatting with a woman who's dress looked way too small for her, while Vaughn stood, being greeted by various members from many various countries inquiring about how nuclear usage was being controlled in the United States no doubt.
She shared a smile with Vaughn, who scratched his left. That was their call sign to tell her that he was going to get a moment alone with David Belzarin or with only two other people present at the max. Then Vaughn would take one guy and Bristow would as well and then together they would transport the CORNU President.
"Mountaineer," is "Boy Scout," in position?" Dixon's voice came through her ear phone which looked nothing more than a dangling earring.
"Confirmed. We are going to proceed," she typed back using a device in her purse that allowed her to answer in morse code.
"Roger that "Mountaineer."
Syd wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. They weren't supposed to have called for another five minutes. It always put her on her guard whenever something didn't go according to plan.
"Ms. Daichovsky, is there something wrong?" the woman demanded in her shrill Russian accent.
"N~No, I just had to~~~"she never finished her sentence. Vaughn arrived to interrupt their conversation. And he wasn't very nice about it either.
"C~can you tell you guest that I don't' mean to interrupt you and that I wouldn't' have if you'd get your butt over there and that the President wants to show me around and that I~~~need you?" he asked, his face plastered with a pleasant smile but his tone was everything but.
"Sure," she told him then said exactly what he's just said to her in Russian to the woman sitting across from her, only in a nicer way and then she promptly stood up and Vaughn practically grabbed her by the elbow cursing, "we're in position, didn't you see my call sign?"
"I was just getting ready to get over there."
"Too slow! Thank god the Russian diplomat already know that you're an unreliable asset."
Now wait a second, Michael actually sounded like he meant that. That could only mean she'd really screwed up. It wasn't like she'd meant to but hey, face it, she'd been out of practice for two years. A few screw ups should be considered normal
Ha, yeah, tell that to Langley.
"Sorry," she stammered as she walked next to Vaughn, making an effort not tlook at her former lover who looked extra handsome when he was angry with her.
Her heart sped up a beat when she felt Vaughn slip her hand through his arm. She knew it was because of mission purposes and shouldn't think anything of it, but she couldn't help but hope it meant something more when he gave her a nice smile.
Her heart ached for a moment but she gave one in return. By the time they were in the presence of David Belzarin, Vaughn and Sydney were acting very comfortable and friendly.
"Mr. Vartan, who is this gracious lady?" Mr. Belzarin gasped as he took Sydney's hand and kissed it with his rough lips.
"This is my excellent translator, Ms. Daichovsky," Mr. Vartan answered with a smile, though in his mind he was thinking that he better not make any sexual advances toward Sydney, not while he was around.
"Ms. Daichovsky. I don't believe another woman has caught my eye as you have tonight," the President flirted in his native tongue, not hiding the fact that he was drawn to her cleavage. "I do hope you are enjoying the party since it is completely for you."
Vaughn had to fight himself not to roll his eyes. Did every guy have to flirt with her? This happened on almost every single mission when a party was involved and he couldn't say he particularly liked that. Knowing Sydney was only doing it for the purpose of her job was the only thing that kept him from saying something.
"Mr. Vartan has told me he is very pleased and very honored that you have thrown such a huge gala for a young entrepreneur who has barely just graduated with his master," she explained to the President who grinned at Michael, again, looking very pleased. "He also tells me that you were on your way to show him to your office to have a more~~~undisturbed conversation."
Michael bit his lip, waiting for the diplomat's response sometimes he felt Sydney got carried away with her job and mentioned more than she should. This felt like one of those times. He felt the President should have brought up that point himself.
Fortunately, what Belzarin said next dismissed all his fears. "Absolutely correct, Ms. Daichovsky!" he beamed, looking as though he'd been impressed by her brusqueness "Getting straight to the point, Mr. Vartan, you certainly do have a fine woman on your hands."
"T~Thank you sir," he stammered, forcing a handsome laid-back smile. Inside he was sighing with relief. Sydney had gotten back on track without offending the President who obviously had forgotten his formal proposal and had become more interested in flirting with her. But then, shouldn't that have been obviously. Sydney was never going to cease to amaze him.
"Shall we go then," Mr. Belzarin suggested, offering Sydney his large arm. Sydney took it before she had a chance to hesitate. Then the Russian diplomat snapped his fingers and two uniformed men joined their party. "To protect you, my precious flower," he crooned, kissing Sydney's arm when he mistook her curiousity for being uncomfortable.
She was glad was Vaughn was when the party proceeded and she was free from Belzarin's slimy lips making contact with her arm. And as Sydney had predicted, the President's room was only accessible through a secret passage. She shot Vaughn a smile that he read too well. How was she supposed to break away from the party now with a arm the size of a beef on hers?
Vaughn shot her a raised-eyebrow ok that Sydney deciphered instantly. "Not yet, let's wait a little. I'm sure the opportunity will present itself."
And it certainly did. After walked in the plain narrow hallway that reminded her of the hospital for about five minutes, the President went through another secret door that brought them back into a brightly lit floor with the same lavish furnishings as they'd seen at the party.
Sydney glanced at David and simpered, "You have such a high-tech passage system."
"Well~~~I am the President, and though I would like to believe all of my members are faithful to me and the organization, I can't allow all of them to know where I do spend my time."
"So are we on a different floor then from the party?"
"Actually, we are about five levels above," he answered, then gave her a hearty chuckle. "You certainly don't miss anything do you?"
At that moment Sydney didn't know what came over her to make her next move as perfect as the timing was but she put a hand to her abdomen and cried out, alarming the two guards, Belzarin, and of course, her concerned partner, Vaughn.
"Ms. Daichovsky, are you all right?" Belzarin demanded to Syd who gave him a reassuring smile which was followed with an even more painful expression and she forced herself to bend over.
"Excuse me, sir," Vaughn interrupted. "Helen, are you all right?" he demanded, his face spread with concern that she believed could very well be genuine.
"Y~Yes~~~sir," she stammered. But that statement was followed by even more agonized cried and the next blow "forced her to the floor."
"No, you're not fine," Vaughn scolded her, squatting to examine his translator who was being held in the arms of one of his guards. "Is it your stomach that hurts?" he inquired and signaled with his eyes to say it was so. Not that he thought for a second Sydney would think of screwing this up.
"Y~Yeah, I think I've got~~~appendicitis!" she shrieked.
Vaughn slapped a hand to his forehead. Maybe she could, only what she'd said could only be translated into, "my gut burst!"
"Ai yai yai!" Belzarin groaned, reaching for the phone in his pocket. Vaughn's hand flew to it before he could dial the number.
"Mr. Vartan, what are you doing!"
"Just give me a minute sir," Vaughn pleaded, trying to appear as sincere as possible then knelt down next to Sydney and whispered. "I don't think it was very nice to get the President all worked up. I think you probably have some gas pain, or it's probably something you ate."
Sydney's face relaxed a little as she said. "Well~~~"
Suddenly David Belzarin grabbed Vaughn by the neck and pulled him away from Syd. "Mr. Vartan! What on earth is going through your head? Don't' you understand? This woman needs medical attention!"
"Actually sir~~~the more likely scenario is that she thinks she needs medical attention," Vaughn started mildly, giving Sydney an apologetic glance. "She's a hypochondriac."
Belzarin stared at Vaughn for a moment, then flashed Sydney a gaze. "Really? Well, I suppose you would know your translator better than I would. The only thing I would know is how stunningly charming she is and equally beautiful. I suppose I should let you take care of it."
"Thank you, Mr. Belzarin." Vaughn pulled a bottle out from under his coat and gave it to Sydney who was amazed that he had that on hand. "I think you got sick from the shrimp cocktail that I advised you not to eat. But you're lucky. It's probably nothing a bit of milk of magnesia can't handle."
"O~Okay," Sydney stammered and held her hand out to Vaughn who immediately took it and helped her up. As their palms made contact, she pressed a tracer into his palm. She then turned to the President. "Mr. Belzarin, forgive me but I would like to go use the powder room. Can you tell me how to get to the nearest one?"
"Certainly my dear, I'd be honored to," David crooned. "In fact, I'll have one of my guards personally escort you. Then after you have completed your~~~business, he can escort you back to my office where Mr. Vartan and I can converse in the little english I do speak." He then snapped his fingers and the bigger of the uniformed soldiers stepped forward.
"Carefully would you mind escorting Ms. Daichovsky and make sure nothing happens to her because if you let anything happen to her, it's going to be hanging over your head."
The Russian soldier nodded his head solemnly then began heading in the opposite direction.
"I'll see you soon," Vaughn murmured to Sydney with a meaningful glance. "Hope that will help."
"I believe it will," she replied with a smile. She stared at him for another moment, but kept it brief so not to get the President thinking they were in a coalition behind the scenes of had occasional trysts.
She nodded to her guard who immediately began moving again. Belzarin and Vaughn's eyes followed her until the last bit of the material of her dress disappeared from view.
"Mr. Vartan, your translator will be fine. I've left my favorite guard on her and he will protect her fiercely. Now let's go up to my office. I'd like to get your input on my proposals for our next meeting."
"O~Of course," Vaughn replied, a bit distractedly.
Belzarin gave him a pleased look then headed forward, the remaining guard at his side. Vaughn shot one last glance in the direction Sydney had gone before he returned on the path to the "oval office."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I~~~Miss?" the russian guard inquired suddenly as a traditional sign for a woman's restroom came into view.
"Yes?" Sydney replied, her voice coming out shrill, surprised at being addressed. She'd been lost in her own thoughts, every one of them regarding Vaughn. The most pressing one was her wanting to know exactly what Vaughn was doing right now.
"I assume you are feeling better ma'am," he added in a tone that sent chills down Sydney's spine. "Since you have not made an agonizing cry since we left the other two."
Crap! Sydney couldn't believe she'd practically blown her cover.
"Well~~~I guess it was a false alarm," she chittered, rubbing her arms that were suddenly covered with goosebumps. "But I'll still like to use the restroom."
But it was like he never heard her.
Or he'd chosen to ignore it.
"You know when I first heard that an American ambassador was going to visit our high-tech organization, I didn't think anything of it. But now I'm thinking that things are happening to coincidentally~~~"
Suddenly, Sydney found herself with a gun-pointed to her head.
"Don't~~~make~~~one~~~move," he commanded her in his calm yet harsh tone.
Sydney raised her hands into the air, trying not to look like she was panicking. "Sir, what are you doing? Please put the gun away. I am a mere translator, y~your problem is not with me, it's the American government," Sydney stammered in Helen mode. At the same time, she was racking her brain of ways to get herself out of this situation.
"Don't pull me in with that crap. I already know exactly who you are, I didn't put it together until now but now I know clear as day~~~you're Julia Thorne!"
Sydney froze and her mind went blank.
"Freeze! I know you have a gun! Toss it aside and I'll think about leaving you alive till you're back on your homeland," he barked, his voice tense from fear.
She knew she only had one moment to come up with an action plan before her brain went "dead." And she knew she had only about a few seconds after that to carry it out. Vaughn was depending on her. This was not the time to be haunted by her missing two years. She had a job to do. And also, she knew if she didn't do something about this guard, she'd be forced to turn herself in for whatever damage, "Julia Thorne," had wreaked.
"Face down on the ground, hands where I can see them!"
Sydney lowered herself, making it look as though she was obliging to the guard's orders. She was about an inch away from the floor when she got up, kicked the walkie talkie out of his hand then wrestled him to the ground and pinned his surprised face against the floor.
"Okay, here's the deal. I'm not Julia Thorne, but I am looking for her. I bet you would too if someone that looked identical to you was ruining your life," Sydney said through gritted teeth. "So you're going to help me. What do you know about "Julia Thorne?"
"Ah Ms. Thorne, I'm sure you would know that since you are the once who did those terrible things, terrorizing a lot of Russia during the last two years," the guard said with an approximation of a smile. "The underground Russians anyway. And if you were really CIA, you would probably know everything. Doesn't the American intelligence agency document that type of thing?"
Sydney jerked his neck up and whispered fiercely into his ear. "I ask the questions here, got it?"
"You're just as feisty as the last time we met, Julia," the guard snickered, blood seeping out of his broken lip.
"And stop calling me, Julia. I am not JULIA!"
"Oh, but you are. I knew the moment we met," he stammered. "I just couldn't say anything. After all, the President does think I am a trustworthy man of his security detail~~~"
This comment made Sydney's blood run cold, the way it did when she got scared. And right now she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. "You were trying to assasinate Lazarey fourteen months ago but I caught you in the act and you ran."
"W~wait, what does that mean? Does that mean Lazarey is alive?" Sydney demanded. She put the barrel of her hand gun against his mouth when he gave her a look that said, "and why would I tell you?"
He remained silent.
"Answer me unless you want me to blow your head off," she warned him as she pulled the trigger back.
"Go ahead. I've already dialed in to get back up. That was five minutes ago. They should be on their way now to take you and your partner into custody if they haven't already."
"Wait~~~Okay, tell me what you know about my partner. If you're not going to tell me anything, at least tell me about him," Sydney ordered him, her fear making her voice shrill.
"I'm not going to tell you anything," he told her in haughty voice.
Sydney was overcome frustration. This man he'd had some of the keys to finding out what happened to her, and he wasn't offering up any information, she couldn't even get him to divulge anything, even if she'd slammed him against the hard concrete floor.
She was about to knock him out when she heard unmistakable sounds of combat boots jogging up the stairs.
Crap! The guard hadn't been lying.
"All right, listen up," she cursed, choking him by the neck. "I am going to give you five seconds to reconsider your decision. If you don't' give me something, you're going to die, simple as that."
She traced the barrel up to his temple.
"I told you, I'm not going to say anything. Either way I am going to die," he said bitterly. "Sir, just give me something, I don't want to kill you," Sydney pleaded, her eyes frantically looking over her shoulder to the nearest stair well.
"You lie, Julia. You killed as though you have no conscience. You'll get your info, then send it to your boss then you'll either kill me now or send assasins after me and my family."
"I told you, I'm not Julia! Julia is an impostor that is trying to ruin my life," Sydney seethed. "If you know anything, tel me. If not, I will take you into custody and then you'll know that I am not lying about being a CIA officer. Then somebody will be interrogating you. You'll be lucky if you get me, everyone else if not going to take any Russian lip."
"Bite me," he teased her then flashed her an even more sick grin. "I bet they have custody of your wonderful boyfriend."
Vaughn! At that moment she heard his name she remembered that she had to hurry and warm him before they arrested him as well.
"Damn you!" she cursed as she got to her feet. "I hope you rot in hell!"
She then gave him a sharp blow to the back of his head with the butt of the gun which promptly knocked him out and send him sprawling to the floor. She watched the guard fall flat on his face. She then knelt down next to him and checked for this pulse.
Alive, but he wasn't going anywhere.
"Good," Sydney thought as she flipped the unconscious man onto his back and then began to dig through his pockets as though she were sure she was going to find something. Finally her fingers fell on an object that felt like a computer disk.
She pulled it out on gut instinct. Even though she kenw it was likely that it was a useless object. Maybe it would be the disk that contained information on the security detail of the President building. She would be happy with that even though the only way she could help out Vaughn was if she got access to a computer. She frowned when she saw tat it was a little brown packet. She turned it around in her palm~~~
And gasped!
It could be! But it was. Imprinted on the front of was unmistakably the Rambaldi symbol, in what looked sickly like human blood.
She perked her ears. The footsteps were getting closer. She kicked off her heels then pulled on her disguise like that of a Russian guard in a matter of seconds, then stuffed her dress into a quart-sized sandwich bag as she got to her feet.
She turned it on and waited a second before a red light appeared, followed by a faint beeping.
A beep? She didn't remember a beep when Marshall had demonstrated the workings of the device back at the JTF.
She lifted the object to her ear. No, it wasn't coming from the compact. She slid out the "sponge," and whispered a code into the mouthpiece which was connected directly with one of Marshall's many computers.
"Hi Syd," a message appeared in red on the screen.
Sydney smiled and watched as more babble flooded onto the screen. Even technically it reminded her of the constantly hyperventilating.
Then another red light came on and downloaded the exact location of the tracer, a blue print of where the guards were located and the ability to talk directly with Marshall for directions on how to get to Vaughn.
Good. He was in the President's room, so maybe the other guard wasn't a possible Covenant. It seemed Agent Vaughn was taking his sweet time executing his part of the mission.
"Okay, Marshall, let's get up there. Our team to transport is going to arrive in less than ten minutes," Sydney urged him. "I'll be grateful if we can do it earlier. I just knocked out a Russian guard but he already called for back up and~~~I don't think he was joking."
"O~Okay Sydney," he stammered, his tone getting more frantic. "Okay Syd, you got a portrait on the wall next to you?"
Sydney stepped back from the wall, her one hand on the gun in her back pocket, and her other on an old painting of what looked like a Russian princess. "All right, I got a picture of an Anastasia, is that it?"
"Yup, Go ahead and tap on the left part of the frame where the design looks like an inverted "Q" that'll bring up a console and a keypad. The code is 9-8-9-6-1-8."
Sydney followed his instructions then typed in the code and waited for it to process. "Okay, I'm in," she replied as she heard a huge click, pushed aside the picture and crawled into the space between the walls that led to an elegant hallway that looked almost identical to the one she'd just come off of, only this one had a staircase that led up to a higher level.
"Okay, so do I go up the stairs?"
There was no answer.
"Um~~~Marshall, you there?"
"Y~yeah~~~Uh Sydney," he asked then. Sydney hesitated before replying. The tone of Marshall's voice had sent a shiver down her spine.
"Yeah Marshall, what's wrong?"
"Um~~~this is interesting. I'm picking up something from your pocket."
"O~Okay, exactly what do you mean by that?" Sydney demanded, sure that it wasn't like he was picking up vibrations from her inexpensive hair pins.
"Sydney, you know us inventors, we make things to do certain jobs and then it just happens to do something else?"
"Uh~~~yeah," she agreed, with mounting dread.
"Well, I didn't mention this but the device also picks up waves that come off of anything explosive, and~~~Sydney, I'm getting reading from your pocket."
Sydney felt her heart stop in her chest.
"Agent Bristow, do you have an explosive in your pocket that is not standard issue?" Weiss' demanding voice came over the air.
Sydney didn't' answer. Instead she reached into one of the breast pockets and retrieved the packet with the rambaldi symbol on it and opened the flap.
She was shocked she almost dropped it on the floor. Fortunately being part of dangerous missions had sped up her reaction time. She had just pulled a ticking explosive out of the mysterious package
"Mountaineer? Do you copy?"
"I~I~~~Marshall, I've got a bomb."
Silence flew through all frequencies. Brave Weiss spoke up.
"What? How did you come upon a bomb?"
"I~I stole a package from the Russian guard~~~and it seems I played right into his hands. I think he's Covenant. And I think he meant for me to find it."
"How do you figure?"
"It's got the Rambldi signia," Sydney put in through gritted teeth. "God, I knew there was something up with him."
"Okay Syd, if you really feel he's Covenant, we'll secure him," Weiss assured him. "Tell me where you left him."
"By the picture of Marshall can give you the specifics on that," she told him in a hurried voice. "Right now, I need to get to Vaughn, how is he looking?"
"Give me a sec," Weiss apologized which felt more like hours to her as she trudged up the stairs. She imagined him getting tangled up in his cords to the headphone as he headed to a computer across the room to gather new intel and see a picture from the satellite camera. A minute later Weiss came back to the line, "okay, Vaughn is still talking to the President but he sent us a morse code message indicating that he is going for it. Can you deactivate the bomb?"
Sydney finally reached the top step and took a breath to examine the device in her hand, moving the wires but careful not to snap any of them. From the looks of it, this was a very strong explose~~~powerful enough to take out the whole CORNU group that day~
The pieces were coming together. The Covenant was here!
"Mountaineer, do you copy?"
"No I can't deactivate it. And I think I know why. I think the Covenant is here and I think their plan was to annihilate the CORNU."
There was heavy sighing on the phone, some Weiss shouting, others shouting back at him and then he finally came back on the line
"All right Sydney, we've got a picture of you and we have a clear view of the bomb. The numbers are in code and according to our Rambaldi linguist you have three minutes and forty-eight seconds before it's going to get off. So Syd, get Vaughn, and drag Belzarin out. The team's ETA is five minutes. And after you're clear of the building, I'll have our agents from Moscow's field office go in and arrest the Russian guards, assuming nobody takes him before we do."
There was a hidden meaning in that tone that made Sydney feel very uneasy.
"R~right, okay, I'm going to turn you off now. Send me a beep if you find anything new. I'm going in after Vaughn."
Sydney then clicked him off before he got a chance to confirm he got the message at Base Camp. She'd be hearing about that later, probably from Vaughn himself. She pulled out the compact, connected her headphones to it then put it back into one of the pockets to her camis.
"All right Marshall, you heard Weiss. We've got less than three minutes to get this show on the road."
A/N: Hey! I just wanted to say thanks for the feedback! I really do appreciate it! I am proud to say that this fic is going into S/V! Things are about to get interesting! So please keep reviewing so I know you all do want to read this! And if you haven't checked it out already I have "The Other Side of the Story," "When she Was Bad and my very well read, "The Moment we've been waiting for!" so please check them out as well!!!
Oh and I will update When she was Bad, Never been Pregnant and One Last Wish in Vegas for those reading my multiple fics!!!!
Now for review responses!
Largemarge416: I do appreciate that you like the fact that I'm not just jumping into the Syd and Vaughn thing! I don't' know I feel it'll feel that much better after you've been put through some crap!( just check out how long I made my readers wait before Syd and Vaughn had some sweetness in "The Other Side of the Story!) Lol. Thanks and please keep reading!!!
Chickie-dee: You are writing awesome fics and multiple ones as well. Kudos for your regular updates! Hopefully I'll be able to update sooner! Thanks for reading so many of my fics! You rock! Update again all right?
Supergirl14: Emotional? You bet! I am totally into that angsty Syd and Vaughn thing~~~but only because that means the sweetness to come later will be that much sweeter!
Caroline: Thanks for leaving the e-mail! I will e-mail you with updates! Also wanted to thank you for reviewing The Other Side of the Story, you have no clue what that meant to me! I love ya lots, please keep reading! Talk to ya lataz
And without further ado (hoping for even more reviews) I give you
Moscow Nightmare (cont)
Twenty minutes later the party for Mr. Michael Vartan was in full flow, with beautifully dressed people moving to mingle from one group to the other.
Sydney was chatting with a woman who's dress looked way too small for her, while Vaughn stood, being greeted by various members from many various countries inquiring about how nuclear usage was being controlled in the United States no doubt.
She shared a smile with Vaughn, who scratched his left. That was their call sign to tell her that he was going to get a moment alone with David Belzarin or with only two other people present at the max. Then Vaughn would take one guy and Bristow would as well and then together they would transport the CORNU President.
"Mountaineer," is "Boy Scout," in position?" Dixon's voice came through her ear phone which looked nothing more than a dangling earring.
"Confirmed. We are going to proceed," she typed back using a device in her purse that allowed her to answer in morse code.
"Roger that "Mountaineer."
Syd wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. They weren't supposed to have called for another five minutes. It always put her on her guard whenever something didn't go according to plan.
"Ms. Daichovsky, is there something wrong?" the woman demanded in her shrill Russian accent.
"N~No, I just had to~~~"she never finished her sentence. Vaughn arrived to interrupt their conversation. And he wasn't very nice about it either.
"C~can you tell you guest that I don't' mean to interrupt you and that I wouldn't' have if you'd get your butt over there and that the President wants to show me around and that I~~~need you?" he asked, his face plastered with a pleasant smile but his tone was everything but.
"Sure," she told him then said exactly what he's just said to her in Russian to the woman sitting across from her, only in a nicer way and then she promptly stood up and Vaughn practically grabbed her by the elbow cursing, "we're in position, didn't you see my call sign?"
"I was just getting ready to get over there."
"Too slow! Thank god the Russian diplomat already know that you're an unreliable asset."
Now wait a second, Michael actually sounded like he meant that. That could only mean she'd really screwed up. It wasn't like she'd meant to but hey, face it, she'd been out of practice for two years. A few screw ups should be considered normal
Ha, yeah, tell that to Langley.
"Sorry," she stammered as she walked next to Vaughn, making an effort not tlook at her former lover who looked extra handsome when he was angry with her.
Her heart sped up a beat when she felt Vaughn slip her hand through his arm. She knew it was because of mission purposes and shouldn't think anything of it, but she couldn't help but hope it meant something more when he gave her a nice smile.
Her heart ached for a moment but she gave one in return. By the time they were in the presence of David Belzarin, Vaughn and Sydney were acting very comfortable and friendly.
"Mr. Vartan, who is this gracious lady?" Mr. Belzarin gasped as he took Sydney's hand and kissed it with his rough lips.
"This is my excellent translator, Ms. Daichovsky," Mr. Vartan answered with a smile, though in his mind he was thinking that he better not make any sexual advances toward Sydney, not while he was around.
"Ms. Daichovsky. I don't believe another woman has caught my eye as you have tonight," the President flirted in his native tongue, not hiding the fact that he was drawn to her cleavage. "I do hope you are enjoying the party since it is completely for you."
Vaughn had to fight himself not to roll his eyes. Did every guy have to flirt with her? This happened on almost every single mission when a party was involved and he couldn't say he particularly liked that. Knowing Sydney was only doing it for the purpose of her job was the only thing that kept him from saying something.
"Mr. Vartan has told me he is very pleased and very honored that you have thrown such a huge gala for a young entrepreneur who has barely just graduated with his master," she explained to the President who grinned at Michael, again, looking very pleased. "He also tells me that you were on your way to show him to your office to have a more~~~undisturbed conversation."
Michael bit his lip, waiting for the diplomat's response sometimes he felt Sydney got carried away with her job and mentioned more than she should. This felt like one of those times. He felt the President should have brought up that point himself.
Fortunately, what Belzarin said next dismissed all his fears. "Absolutely correct, Ms. Daichovsky!" he beamed, looking as though he'd been impressed by her brusqueness "Getting straight to the point, Mr. Vartan, you certainly do have a fine woman on your hands."
"T~Thank you sir," he stammered, forcing a handsome laid-back smile. Inside he was sighing with relief. Sydney had gotten back on track without offending the President who obviously had forgotten his formal proposal and had become more interested in flirting with her. But then, shouldn't that have been obviously. Sydney was never going to cease to amaze him.
"Shall we go then," Mr. Belzarin suggested, offering Sydney his large arm. Sydney took it before she had a chance to hesitate. Then the Russian diplomat snapped his fingers and two uniformed men joined their party. "To protect you, my precious flower," he crooned, kissing Sydney's arm when he mistook her curiousity for being uncomfortable.
She was glad was Vaughn was when the party proceeded and she was free from Belzarin's slimy lips making contact with her arm. And as Sydney had predicted, the President's room was only accessible through a secret passage. She shot Vaughn a smile that he read too well. How was she supposed to break away from the party now with a arm the size of a beef on hers?
Vaughn shot her a raised-eyebrow ok that Sydney deciphered instantly. "Not yet, let's wait a little. I'm sure the opportunity will present itself."
And it certainly did. After walked in the plain narrow hallway that reminded her of the hospital for about five minutes, the President went through another secret door that brought them back into a brightly lit floor with the same lavish furnishings as they'd seen at the party.
Sydney glanced at David and simpered, "You have such a high-tech passage system."
"Well~~~I am the President, and though I would like to believe all of my members are faithful to me and the organization, I can't allow all of them to know where I do spend my time."
"So are we on a different floor then from the party?"
"Actually, we are about five levels above," he answered, then gave her a hearty chuckle. "You certainly don't miss anything do you?"
At that moment Sydney didn't know what came over her to make her next move as perfect as the timing was but she put a hand to her abdomen and cried out, alarming the two guards, Belzarin, and of course, her concerned partner, Vaughn.
"Ms. Daichovsky, are you all right?" Belzarin demanded to Syd who gave him a reassuring smile which was followed with an even more painful expression and she forced herself to bend over.
"Excuse me, sir," Vaughn interrupted. "Helen, are you all right?" he demanded, his face spread with concern that she believed could very well be genuine.
"Y~Yes~~~sir," she stammered. But that statement was followed by even more agonized cried and the next blow "forced her to the floor."
"No, you're not fine," Vaughn scolded her, squatting to examine his translator who was being held in the arms of one of his guards. "Is it your stomach that hurts?" he inquired and signaled with his eyes to say it was so. Not that he thought for a second Sydney would think of screwing this up.
"Y~Yeah, I think I've got~~~appendicitis!" she shrieked.
Vaughn slapped a hand to his forehead. Maybe she could, only what she'd said could only be translated into, "my gut burst!"
"Ai yai yai!" Belzarin groaned, reaching for the phone in his pocket. Vaughn's hand flew to it before he could dial the number.
"Mr. Vartan, what are you doing!"
"Just give me a minute sir," Vaughn pleaded, trying to appear as sincere as possible then knelt down next to Sydney and whispered. "I don't think it was very nice to get the President all worked up. I think you probably have some gas pain, or it's probably something you ate."
Sydney's face relaxed a little as she said. "Well~~~"
Suddenly David Belzarin grabbed Vaughn by the neck and pulled him away from Syd. "Mr. Vartan! What on earth is going through your head? Don't' you understand? This woman needs medical attention!"
"Actually sir~~~the more likely scenario is that she thinks she needs medical attention," Vaughn started mildly, giving Sydney an apologetic glance. "She's a hypochondriac."
Belzarin stared at Vaughn for a moment, then flashed Sydney a gaze. "Really? Well, I suppose you would know your translator better than I would. The only thing I would know is how stunningly charming she is and equally beautiful. I suppose I should let you take care of it."
"Thank you, Mr. Belzarin." Vaughn pulled a bottle out from under his coat and gave it to Sydney who was amazed that he had that on hand. "I think you got sick from the shrimp cocktail that I advised you not to eat. But you're lucky. It's probably nothing a bit of milk of magnesia can't handle."
"O~Okay," Sydney stammered and held her hand out to Vaughn who immediately took it and helped her up. As their palms made contact, she pressed a tracer into his palm. She then turned to the President. "Mr. Belzarin, forgive me but I would like to go use the powder room. Can you tell me how to get to the nearest one?"
"Certainly my dear, I'd be honored to," David crooned. "In fact, I'll have one of my guards personally escort you. Then after you have completed your~~~business, he can escort you back to my office where Mr. Vartan and I can converse in the little english I do speak." He then snapped his fingers and the bigger of the uniformed soldiers stepped forward.
"Carefully would you mind escorting Ms. Daichovsky and make sure nothing happens to her because if you let anything happen to her, it's going to be hanging over your head."
The Russian soldier nodded his head solemnly then began heading in the opposite direction.
"I'll see you soon," Vaughn murmured to Sydney with a meaningful glance. "Hope that will help."
"I believe it will," she replied with a smile. She stared at him for another moment, but kept it brief so not to get the President thinking they were in a coalition behind the scenes of had occasional trysts.
She nodded to her guard who immediately began moving again. Belzarin and Vaughn's eyes followed her until the last bit of the material of her dress disappeared from view.
"Mr. Vartan, your translator will be fine. I've left my favorite guard on her and he will protect her fiercely. Now let's go up to my office. I'd like to get your input on my proposals for our next meeting."
"O~Of course," Vaughn replied, a bit distractedly.
Belzarin gave him a pleased look then headed forward, the remaining guard at his side. Vaughn shot one last glance in the direction Sydney had gone before he returned on the path to the "oval office."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I~~~Miss?" the russian guard inquired suddenly as a traditional sign for a woman's restroom came into view.
"Yes?" Sydney replied, her voice coming out shrill, surprised at being addressed. She'd been lost in her own thoughts, every one of them regarding Vaughn. The most pressing one was her wanting to know exactly what Vaughn was doing right now.
"I assume you are feeling better ma'am," he added in a tone that sent chills down Sydney's spine. "Since you have not made an agonizing cry since we left the other two."
Crap! Sydney couldn't believe she'd practically blown her cover.
"Well~~~I guess it was a false alarm," she chittered, rubbing her arms that were suddenly covered with goosebumps. "But I'll still like to use the restroom."
But it was like he never heard her.
Or he'd chosen to ignore it.
"You know when I first heard that an American ambassador was going to visit our high-tech organization, I didn't think anything of it. But now I'm thinking that things are happening to coincidentally~~~"
Suddenly, Sydney found herself with a gun-pointed to her head.
"Don't~~~make~~~one~~~move," he commanded her in his calm yet harsh tone.
Sydney raised her hands into the air, trying not to look like she was panicking. "Sir, what are you doing? Please put the gun away. I am a mere translator, y~your problem is not with me, it's the American government," Sydney stammered in Helen mode. At the same time, she was racking her brain of ways to get herself out of this situation.
"Don't pull me in with that crap. I already know exactly who you are, I didn't put it together until now but now I know clear as day~~~you're Julia Thorne!"
Sydney froze and her mind went blank.
"Freeze! I know you have a gun! Toss it aside and I'll think about leaving you alive till you're back on your homeland," he barked, his voice tense from fear.
She knew she only had one moment to come up with an action plan before her brain went "dead." And she knew she had only about a few seconds after that to carry it out. Vaughn was depending on her. This was not the time to be haunted by her missing two years. She had a job to do. And also, she knew if she didn't do something about this guard, she'd be forced to turn herself in for whatever damage, "Julia Thorne," had wreaked.
"Face down on the ground, hands where I can see them!"
Sydney lowered herself, making it look as though she was obliging to the guard's orders. She was about an inch away from the floor when she got up, kicked the walkie talkie out of his hand then wrestled him to the ground and pinned his surprised face against the floor.
"Okay, here's the deal. I'm not Julia Thorne, but I am looking for her. I bet you would too if someone that looked identical to you was ruining your life," Sydney said through gritted teeth. "So you're going to help me. What do you know about "Julia Thorne?"
"Ah Ms. Thorne, I'm sure you would know that since you are the once who did those terrible things, terrorizing a lot of Russia during the last two years," the guard said with an approximation of a smile. "The underground Russians anyway. And if you were really CIA, you would probably know everything. Doesn't the American intelligence agency document that type of thing?"
Sydney jerked his neck up and whispered fiercely into his ear. "I ask the questions here, got it?"
"You're just as feisty as the last time we met, Julia," the guard snickered, blood seeping out of his broken lip.
"And stop calling me, Julia. I am not JULIA!"
"Oh, but you are. I knew the moment we met," he stammered. "I just couldn't say anything. After all, the President does think I am a trustworthy man of his security detail~~~"
This comment made Sydney's blood run cold, the way it did when she got scared. And right now she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. "You were trying to assasinate Lazarey fourteen months ago but I caught you in the act and you ran."
"W~wait, what does that mean? Does that mean Lazarey is alive?" Sydney demanded. She put the barrel of her hand gun against his mouth when he gave her a look that said, "and why would I tell you?"
He remained silent.
"Answer me unless you want me to blow your head off," she warned him as she pulled the trigger back.
"Go ahead. I've already dialed in to get back up. That was five minutes ago. They should be on their way now to take you and your partner into custody if they haven't already."
"Wait~~~Okay, tell me what you know about my partner. If you're not going to tell me anything, at least tell me about him," Sydney ordered him, her fear making her voice shrill.
"I'm not going to tell you anything," he told her in haughty voice.
Sydney was overcome frustration. This man he'd had some of the keys to finding out what happened to her, and he wasn't offering up any information, she couldn't even get him to divulge anything, even if she'd slammed him against the hard concrete floor.
She was about to knock him out when she heard unmistakable sounds of combat boots jogging up the stairs.
Crap! The guard hadn't been lying.
"All right, listen up," she cursed, choking him by the neck. "I am going to give you five seconds to reconsider your decision. If you don't' give me something, you're going to die, simple as that."
She traced the barrel up to his temple.
"I told you, I'm not going to say anything. Either way I am going to die," he said bitterly. "Sir, just give me something, I don't want to kill you," Sydney pleaded, her eyes frantically looking over her shoulder to the nearest stair well.
"You lie, Julia. You killed as though you have no conscience. You'll get your info, then send it to your boss then you'll either kill me now or send assasins after me and my family."
"I told you, I'm not Julia! Julia is an impostor that is trying to ruin my life," Sydney seethed. "If you know anything, tel me. If not, I will take you into custody and then you'll know that I am not lying about being a CIA officer. Then somebody will be interrogating you. You'll be lucky if you get me, everyone else if not going to take any Russian lip."
"Bite me," he teased her then flashed her an even more sick grin. "I bet they have custody of your wonderful boyfriend."
Vaughn! At that moment she heard his name she remembered that she had to hurry and warm him before they arrested him as well.
"Damn you!" she cursed as she got to her feet. "I hope you rot in hell!"
She then gave him a sharp blow to the back of his head with the butt of the gun which promptly knocked him out and send him sprawling to the floor. She watched the guard fall flat on his face. She then knelt down next to him and checked for this pulse.
Alive, but he wasn't going anywhere.
"Good," Sydney thought as she flipped the unconscious man onto his back and then began to dig through his pockets as though she were sure she was going to find something. Finally her fingers fell on an object that felt like a computer disk.
She pulled it out on gut instinct. Even though she kenw it was likely that it was a useless object. Maybe it would be the disk that contained information on the security detail of the President building. She would be happy with that even though the only way she could help out Vaughn was if she got access to a computer. She frowned when she saw tat it was a little brown packet. She turned it around in her palm~~~
And gasped!
It could be! But it was. Imprinted on the front of was unmistakably the Rambaldi symbol, in what looked sickly like human blood.
She perked her ears. The footsteps were getting closer. She kicked off her heels then pulled on her disguise like that of a Russian guard in a matter of seconds, then stuffed her dress into a quart-sized sandwich bag as she got to her feet.
She turned it on and waited a second before a red light appeared, followed by a faint beeping.
A beep? She didn't remember a beep when Marshall had demonstrated the workings of the device back at the JTF.
She lifted the object to her ear. No, it wasn't coming from the compact. She slid out the "sponge," and whispered a code into the mouthpiece which was connected directly with one of Marshall's many computers.
"Hi Syd," a message appeared in red on the screen.
Sydney smiled and watched as more babble flooded onto the screen. Even technically it reminded her of the constantly hyperventilating.
Then another red light came on and downloaded the exact location of the tracer, a blue print of where the guards were located and the ability to talk directly with Marshall for directions on how to get to Vaughn.
Good. He was in the President's room, so maybe the other guard wasn't a possible Covenant. It seemed Agent Vaughn was taking his sweet time executing his part of the mission.
"Okay, Marshall, let's get up there. Our team to transport is going to arrive in less than ten minutes," Sydney urged him. "I'll be grateful if we can do it earlier. I just knocked out a Russian guard but he already called for back up and~~~I don't think he was joking."
"O~Okay Sydney," he stammered, his tone getting more frantic. "Okay Syd, you got a portrait on the wall next to you?"
Sydney stepped back from the wall, her one hand on the gun in her back pocket, and her other on an old painting of what looked like a Russian princess. "All right, I got a picture of an Anastasia, is that it?"
"Yup, Go ahead and tap on the left part of the frame where the design looks like an inverted "Q" that'll bring up a console and a keypad. The code is 9-8-9-6-1-8."
Sydney followed his instructions then typed in the code and waited for it to process. "Okay, I'm in," she replied as she heard a huge click, pushed aside the picture and crawled into the space between the walls that led to an elegant hallway that looked almost identical to the one she'd just come off of, only this one had a staircase that led up to a higher level.
"Okay, so do I go up the stairs?"
There was no answer.
"Um~~~Marshall, you there?"
"Y~yeah~~~Uh Sydney," he asked then. Sydney hesitated before replying. The tone of Marshall's voice had sent a shiver down her spine.
"Yeah Marshall, what's wrong?"
"Um~~~this is interesting. I'm picking up something from your pocket."
"O~Okay, exactly what do you mean by that?" Sydney demanded, sure that it wasn't like he was picking up vibrations from her inexpensive hair pins.
"Sydney, you know us inventors, we make things to do certain jobs and then it just happens to do something else?"
"Uh~~~yeah," she agreed, with mounting dread.
"Well, I didn't mention this but the device also picks up waves that come off of anything explosive, and~~~Sydney, I'm getting reading from your pocket."
Sydney felt her heart stop in her chest.
"Agent Bristow, do you have an explosive in your pocket that is not standard issue?" Weiss' demanding voice came over the air.
Sydney didn't' answer. Instead she reached into one of the breast pockets and retrieved the packet with the rambaldi symbol on it and opened the flap.
She was shocked she almost dropped it on the floor. Fortunately being part of dangerous missions had sped up her reaction time. She had just pulled a ticking explosive out of the mysterious package
"Mountaineer? Do you copy?"
"I~I~~~Marshall, I've got a bomb."
Silence flew through all frequencies. Brave Weiss spoke up.
"What? How did you come upon a bomb?"
"I~I stole a package from the Russian guard~~~and it seems I played right into his hands. I think he's Covenant. And I think he meant for me to find it."
"How do you figure?"
"It's got the Rambldi signia," Sydney put in through gritted teeth. "God, I knew there was something up with him."
"Okay Syd, if you really feel he's Covenant, we'll secure him," Weiss assured him. "Tell me where you left him."
"By the picture of Marshall can give you the specifics on that," she told him in a hurried voice. "Right now, I need to get to Vaughn, how is he looking?"
"Give me a sec," Weiss apologized which felt more like hours to her as she trudged up the stairs. She imagined him getting tangled up in his cords to the headphone as he headed to a computer across the room to gather new intel and see a picture from the satellite camera. A minute later Weiss came back to the line, "okay, Vaughn is still talking to the President but he sent us a morse code message indicating that he is going for it. Can you deactivate the bomb?"
Sydney finally reached the top step and took a breath to examine the device in her hand, moving the wires but careful not to snap any of them. From the looks of it, this was a very strong explose~~~powerful enough to take out the whole CORNU group that day~
The pieces were coming together. The Covenant was here!
"Mountaineer, do you copy?"
"No I can't deactivate it. And I think I know why. I think the Covenant is here and I think their plan was to annihilate the CORNU."
There was heavy sighing on the phone, some Weiss shouting, others shouting back at him and then he finally came back on the line
"All right Sydney, we've got a picture of you and we have a clear view of the bomb. The numbers are in code and according to our Rambaldi linguist you have three minutes and forty-eight seconds before it's going to get off. So Syd, get Vaughn, and drag Belzarin out. The team's ETA is five minutes. And after you're clear of the building, I'll have our agents from Moscow's field office go in and arrest the Russian guards, assuming nobody takes him before we do."
There was a hidden meaning in that tone that made Sydney feel very uneasy.
"R~right, okay, I'm going to turn you off now. Send me a beep if you find anything new. I'm going in after Vaughn."
Sydney then clicked him off before he got a chance to confirm he got the message at Base Camp. She'd be hearing about that later, probably from Vaughn himself. She pulled out the compact, connected her headphones to it then put it back into one of the pockets to her camis.
"All right Marshall, you heard Weiss. We've got less than three minutes to get this show on the road."