Killer Instinct

Chapter 7: Shadows

Simon carried the briefcase in his gloved hand as he crossed the parking lot and headed towards the rear entrance of the warehouse. He felt the weight of the briefcase become heavier and heavier with each step, but it wasn't its contents that weighed it down. It was his conscience...something he'd never really had to deal with. Nothing had bothered him before; he was always focused on the job, on his objectives, and never on what was sacrificed during the process. But now things had changed. He watched his breath hit the cold air and become steam as he sighed heavily.

He paused outside the heavy steel door. He dreaded what awaited him within the walls of the empty warehouse. A few seconds passed before he turned the handle and went inside. Sark stood at the opposite end of the warehouse, shrouded in shadow. Simon immediately didn't like the situation. He liked to be fully aware of his surroundings, but the shadows created blind spots. His footsteps echoed throughout the warehouse as he quickly closed the space between himself and his 'boss'.

"I trust that you have the plutonium."

Simon lifted the briefcase and handed it to Sark, "you know we always get the job done."

"Yes, you do don't you? And will you be able to uphold that record?"

Simon nodded, "nothing gets in between me and a job."

Sark smiled. That was the difference between people such as themselves, and people like Sydney Bristow. Nothing stood in the way of what they wanted. Sark was still amazed at how easily Simon had been able to tame Sydney, to change her from the model CIA agent to a thief and a cold-blooded killer...although Sark did have his doubts about that last part. "I see...Well, you already know what has to be done, you only need the perfect opportunity, and I'm going to give it to you..."

-----------------------------

Sydney stared past the television screen and past the images that flashed across it as she tried to figure out her situation. She knew what she wanted to do, but she also knew that she couldn't do it on her own...she needed help, and that's what currently occupied her thoughts. She couldn't trust the CIA, as soon as she made her location known by contacting them, they'd have her arrested. And she still wasn't entirely sure that she could trust Simon. Sure he hadn't shown her any reason why she shouldn't be able to, and yet she still couldn't commit herself to it. For all she knew he'd shoot her where she stood if he even had the smallest idea as to what she had been thinking the past few days.

She stretched out on the couch and held a pillow tightly to her chest. This wasn't about her anymore. Sure there were still holes missing from those two years, but what were they worth now? Was her quest for her missing memories worth the lives that had been lost due to her pursuit of it? She'd seen the photos, the files, and she'd come to accept that learning anything more about that time may be memories that she would be better off without. She couldn't deal with it anymore, and she couldn't bare the thought of more innocent people dying because of her selfish pursuit for truth and memory. She couldn't deal with the fact that plutonium she'd help steal from a base was being given to Sark at that very moment, that she'd helped the Covenant obtain such a potentially dangerous item.

Sydney shook her head as she thought through the plans she'd already made in her mind. She'd missed her chance to take the plutonium from Simon, and she was certain there would be no chance of her getting it from Sark, which only left the chance of retrieving it from the Covenant...and that seemed near impossible. She didn't even know who was controlling the Covenant let alone where they were based. She hated being in the dark, and how the facts that could be considered to be the most important were hidden from her in a veil of shadows. The only connections were Simon, and Sark. She shuddered to think that her latest mistake may not be reverted, that the Covenant would use the plutonium for any number of things that would inevitably result in the deaths of people. She stood. This wasn't going to happen...not if she could have anything to do with it.

-----------------------------

Simon dropped his keys on the table as he headed towards the stairs. He hoped that she wasn't home, that he didn't have to deal with his guilt in her presence. It was hard enough dealing without having her there staring him in the face. He climbed the first few steps before she called for him from the other room. He paused. She'd heard him come in. He couldn't pretend that he didn't hear her; he couldn't act any differently than he normally would, otherwise she'd notice, and then she'd know...

She waited for him at the end of the long dining table, a bottle of tequila set down in front her own, un-opened and ready to be drunk.

"How'd it go?" She asked from the other end of the room.

He removed his coat and draped it over a chair as he moved to her side and nodded, "fine."

Simon paused as he noticed the bottle of tequila in front of her. He smiled at the memories triggered by the bottle, by that very label and brand of tequila...of a time when Julia and he...he snapped out of it as he realized that it was the same brand that they'd shared before. How did she know that? He didn't have any tequila in the house, so she had to have gone out and bought that particular brand. Did she remember? Or was it a coincidence? He didn't care...the fact that it was there, that she'd chosen that specific bottle was another subtlety that made him certain that she remembered something, whether she was aware of it or not. Another pang of guilt struck him as he considered that things may be closer to normal than he'd originally thought...and this only hurt more knowing what Sark had ordered him to do.

Simon realized that she'd disappeared while he'd focused his attention entirely upon the bottle. Moments later she returned back from the kitchen with the salt and lime, but she didn't feel like the tequila anymore. She didn't want to get him drunk before telling him what was on her mind. She wanted him sober, and she wanted him to be fully aware of what she was saying. She placed the items on the table in front of them before taking a seat beside him. She took in a deep breathe...who knew if it'd be her last.

Thanks to you guys who are reading and reviewing! Always gives me a kick knowing people are liking my writing. This would've been up earlier but I couldn't log in. Hopefully I'll be able to have this finished by this time next week. As always let me know what y'all thought, I love feedback. / Britt