Part 8

The JTF office was a sudden explosion of activity, the few people already there early given immediate tasks. The first was to follow the signal from Sydney's cell phone in an attempt to track her, two agents running off to different computer stations.

Jack was yelling at someone through the phone at the airport in an attempt to gain their security footage. The hope was that the cameras would give them a clear picture of what had happened to Sydney since she'd arrived at the airport and explain how she'd been compromised, or at least put a face to who she was with. It was undoubtedly Alliance, but if it wasn't, they didn't want to chase the wrong lead and waste valuable time their agent didn't have. Apparently his yelling worked and he transferred the call over to the analysts to find the right footage and bring it to him as soon as possible.

Vaughn grabbed his coat off the chair and started toward the door, Jack's voice calling to catch him. "Vaughn! Where are you going?" The two men hurried into the hallway, Michael not stopping as he made his way toward the stairway exit.

"We made an agreement with Sydney when she first started as a double. If she was compromised we would make sure that Dixon's family, Will, and Francie were taken into protective custody."

"Why pull Dixon? This is irrational. He could help us from-" Jack wasn't prepared for the young man to spin on his heel with his hand raised, watery green eyes showing that he was barely holding it together.

"Stop. Not now. You do what you can here; I'll coordinate the extractions and see that everyone is safe. I promised her...Jack. I promised Sydney I would do this."

For a moment, Jack felt the constriction in his chest ebb long enough to see the broken heart of the man attempting to hold his emotions back. And even though he was still mad at the confrontation from weeks earlier, the father realized that he hadn't restarted the conversation with the agent as previously intended, nor had he followed him to his car and put the occasional rogue in the trunk of his sedan as a lesson. The love Michael Vaughn had for his daughter poured from his pain-filled eyes, and Jack knew instantly why he hadn't tried to nail him to the wall over the last few weeks.

"I can help-" the floundering father tried, Michael cutting him off.

"If you leave this building, you're dead. They didn't make her without making you, you know that." Pushing his arms angrily through the holes in the jacket he turned and tossed the heavy metal door open, the cool of the parking garage interior hitting both sets of flushed faces.

"It doesn't matter any longer; let me help." Jack had a pleading tone that Vaughn hadn't heard before. A van roared around the end of the turn, wheels squealing as it raced up and then made a sudden stop in front of the two agents. Weiss was driving and gestured for the younger to hurry.

"They can't have both of you, I won't give them that. Just," pulling the sliding back door open he turned before stepping inside, his hind wiping angrily at a tear that was charting a path down his cheek, "just see if you can find her and put a plan together for extraction."

The words bubbled up from the back of Jack's throat before he could reign them in, "no one has ever survived this."

Michael recognized that Jack was losing his edge, the adrenalin wearing off as the reality of the situation was crashing around the older man's shoulders. "You giving up on her Jack?" He let the rhetorical question hang and slid the van door closed, the large, unmarked vehicle lurching forward.

...

"Who the hell could be at the door at five-thirty in the morning?" Francie curled farther into Will's warm side in an attempt to shrink from the ringing bell, three loud pounding knocks following soon after.

Will sat up quickly and tossed the blanket to the end of the bed, his girlfriend eyeing him with confusion as he rose and clumsily yanked a pair of pajama pants over his boxers. "Stay here," he ordered, hurrying from the room.

The moment he was through the doorway she huffed and grumbled, twisting out of bed and grabbing her robe that hung by the door. Stalking into the living room, Will back in her line of sight, she saw his stance tense and nervous, worry beginning to prod its way past her annoyance.

"What are you-" he cut her off.

"Shh," he ordered sharply and approached the door at the hinged side, his glaring eyes and waving hand signaling for her to be quiet and stay back.

Another ring and three more bangs made them both jump, Will breathing nervously as he maneuvered on his tiptoes to peer through the peephole. A nervous Michael Vaughn stood on the step.

'Shit, this isn't good.'

Despite knowing the person at the door, he didn't relax. In fact, it wound him tighter and a growing knot began to twist his guts. Unlocking the door with fast, shaking hands, Francie whispered harshly, "what are you doing?! It could be a murderer!"

He ignored her and threw it wide before reaching out to yanking the surprised agent into the cool interior of the apartment by the front of his jacket. "What the hell is going on? You shouldn't be here!"

"Sydney's been compromised," Vaughn said quickly as Will locked the door behind them.

The bright blue eyes went wide and every muscle in his body stopped and tensed. "What did you say?" His voice was almost a squeak.

"She," Michael paused to take a breath and desperately try to push his emotions down. "She's been compromised. I…I'm taking you both into protective custody."

"What can I do? Can I help when I get there?"

"What the hell is going on?!" Francie yelled over their conversation, the newcomer someone she'd never seen before, and her boyfriend wasn't offering any explanation but seemed to know the man quite well. "Who the hell is this? And...what did you say about Sydney? Is...are you a cop? Has she been in an accident?"

For the moment, the young panicked woman took a backseat as Will attempted to process what he was told. He felt Vaughn's hand on his shoulder as he hung his head and took a shuddering breath. Standing up straight he saw the sheen of tears in the green eyes knowing that his blues matched. His mind slipped back to when this part of her life was brand new to him, Sydney explaining what this exact situation meant.

"What the hell do you mean by compromised? Like what, like...found out?"

"Yeah, like found out."

"So wait. If...if they figure out that you're a double agent, you're telling me that Francie and I are on a list? And the CIA will just show up and drag us off somewhere?" He talked with his mouth full of cereal as he watched Sydney get her things ready for work one morning shortly after he'd learned the whole ugly truth. "I actually know what that feels like."

She sighed and stopped, looking toward the sound of the running shower from Francie's room. "You and I, better than anyone else, know what these people can do. If I'm caught as a double I'm dead, there's no way around that."

"Does Jack know about this whole list thing?"

"I have a different arrangement with my dad, but Vaughn helped me get things in place for you and Francie, and Dixon and his family. The CIA will take you all into protective custody - past that, I don't know what would happen. Maybe witness protection," she left off shouldering her purse and headed for the front door.

"So, compromised equals bad."

"Yeah."

"Bad for Francie and me?"

She shook her head from across the living room, "probably not."

"But really bad for you?"

She sent a soft smile, "Will, I've been a spy for almost ten years, and the last eighteen months I've been a double spy. Yet this whole time you and Francie thought I worked at a bank, so...I'm pretty good at my job. Don't worry."

"Fran, go get dressed," he swallowed hard, "and pack a bag." He tried to make his voice sound big, but the tightening of his throat made it higher-pitched and watery.

"What? No! You will tell me what is going on. Right now!" Her arms were crossed and her hips set to allow the tapping of her foot on the ground. Vaughn and Will shared understanding glances, Michael stepping forward and extending his hand in greeting.

"Francie, I'm Michael Vaughn. I...I work with Sydney."

The ebony woman lightened her glare at the recognition of his first name. "You...your name is Michael?"

"Look - there's going to be a lot that you don't understand in the next few hours, and there's going to be plenty I can't tell you. Just know that Sydney set this up if - if something happened to her at work."

"At the bank? Like what...like a robbery?" She gasped, "oh god...was she embezzling money? Did...did she lead like, a second life or something?"

"Francie," Vaughn sighed, "Sydney doesn't work at a bank, she works for the CIA."

The woman's face fell before she flashed a laughing smile. "Come on, be serious."

Will and Vaughn felt some of their urgency dissipate, the boyfriend taking over. "Look, we'll fill you in, I - I promise, but we have to pack and we gotta do it now. Trust me, Fran, you have no idea how much of a risk it is having this guy even near the apartment, let alone inside."

The couple moved hurriedly down the hall leaving Vaughn in the living room. He looked around with the realization that this was the first and probably last time he'd ever see it, so he set out to memorize every detail. The pictures of her and her friends on the mantle, the copy of her Master's degree hanging on the wall, the scented candles on the end table next to the couch. He turned and spotted a second bedroom, and while his brain was trying to decide if he would look, his legs were already moving.

The comfortable-looking bed was made, pillows across the top haphazardly skewed as if she'd only had time to yank the blankets in place and toss them near the headboard. Moving past the doorframe he spotted a chair near the corner of the room that had a few pieces of clothing slung over the back and a pair of heels kicked underneath. The recognizable scent of her perfume hit him as he moved just inside the door, and it forced his eyes closed at the memory of his nose tucked against her throat in their few hours together before his flight just two days ago.

Pain and guilt bubbled up as everything threatened to break inward for the tenth time that morning, so he took and released a ragged breath before leaving. Will was fidgeting in the living room with harsh worry on his face as he slipped a jacket over his rumpled shirt.

"Is it as bad as she said it would be?"

Vaughn wiped at his face sucking in another breath before shrugging. "I don't know. Can...can I ask you something, Will?"

"Of course, man." The blue-eyed man looked back over at the bedroom where Francie was still throwing things into a suitcase, though his eyes watered when they returned to the broken-hearted expression on the face of Michael Vaughn.

"What if this was me?" His voice had a shake to it as he finally said out loud the words threatening to suffocate his heart.

"What are you talking about?"

Michael set his hands to his chest, "what if...I mean...we started...what if they found out?"

"They would have you too, man. Don't think you'd get away and she wouldn't." The journalist had sympathy written in every feature. "Vaughn, come on. This wasn't you. They are doing this. Sydney told me that they do things like this, not us."

"But-"

"And even if they found out," his voice went to a whisper, Will checking back at Francie's bedroom door before looking back at the agent in crisis, "To Syd...it was worth it."

Francie slowly and unsurely made her way back into the living room with tear-stained cheeks and a carry-on bag packed to the brim slung over her shoulder. "I...I'm ready, I guess." She hadn't been sure if the new guy in the living room had been Sydney's work fling, but seeing how crushed he looked and the obvious sheen of fresh tears in his eyes, it was the only thing that made sense. Sydney wasn't the only one that had it bad, and it showed. While she didn't understand at all what was happening, she couldn't keep the fierce throbbing pain out of her heart at the thought of never seeing her best friend again.

"Can you answer one question for me?" Her voice was a whisper.

Michael replied with a nod as they left the apartment.

"Is Sydney okay?"

He wanted to lie more than ever but now wasn't the time. "No, Francie. I don't think she's okay."

Vaughn sat in the van preparing for the conversation he was about to have with Sydney's SD-6 partner. Will and Francie were in the back, each mind processing the information he'd shared on the drive across town. The shocked look on the woman's face and the fact that she was literally unable to say anything as her brain went into information overdrive made him feel bad. This was Sydney's best friend, and she just found out that she'd been lied to - for years.

"Mike. We're...in a bit of a time crunch." Weiss prodded gently, and Michael was thankful for the distraction.

"She was supposed to do this, Weiss. This wasn't supposed to be on me," he said in a low watery mumble.

Eric nodded. "I know, man. Look," the larger agent lowered his voice and leaned toward his crushed friend in the passenger seat. "Right now, we have a job that has to get done, and we have to do it right. We can break later."

Sighing and settling his mind, Vaughn pushed down his emotions and turned in his seat.

"I'll be right back, you guys sit tight. Francie, I know things are super crazy right now, but I promise that I'll answer every question you have later, okay?" Her mute nod was all he got, but it was enough.

His mind was a flurry as he walked the path up to the humble house. He knew so much about the man he was meeting while said man knew nothing about Michael Vaughn - not even his name.

He knocked three times, the door opening a moment later as her partner greeted him with a frowning smile. He'd been briefed by Jack on the protocol and swallowed the sudden ball of guilt that bubbled to the back of his throat before putting a bright smile on his face.

"Marcus Dixon?"

"Yes," the man said warily. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Michael Vaughn, and I'm here from Credit Dauphine New York. I'm sorry to barge in on you this early, but I was told you handled the loans in and out of the L.A. branch and I need you to look at some paperwork if you have a minute or two."

Dixon smiled, his features relaxing completely before he stepped back and allowed Vaughn into his home. "Of course. My work laptop is in the office. Can I get you some coffee?"

'He trusts me completely. If...I was an assassin, I'd have him dead in two minutes and be in and out without anyone being the wiser. All because I knew a combination of words to put him off guard. That's how they got her. Sydney wouldn't have followed just anyone into a back room, but...if they knew what to say,' his train of thought was cut off at the question for coffee and it snapped him back to the present.

Michael declined as butterflies danced in his stomach, and he followed the man deeper into the house. Dixon closed the door behind them and sat at the desk, Vaughn taking the seat in front before reaching into his pocket to pull out a small piece of tech, a beep emitting as he pushed a button set it on the smooth and shining wood surface.

Marcus frowned as an alarm went off in his head, his jaw tensing quickly. "You're not SD-6, are you?"

"Mr. Dixon, I need you to listen to me very carefully. I...some of the things I'm going to tell you are going to be very difficult to hear, but...I need you to hear them."

"Who are you?" Dixon's suspicion went sky high, his voice gaining an edge of aggression.

"I'm CIA."

The dark eyes narrowed. "Who sent you?"

Michael thought hard about the answer, deciding to go with an answer that may put him back into Dixon's circle of trust. "Sydney sent me."

His shoulders dropped a bit, though he didn't fully relax. "Sydney?"

"Yes."

It was enough for the moment and Marcus leaned back in his seat. "Tell me what you came to say."

"Trust that I wouldn't be sitting here right now if it wasn't for a good reason, and...trust that Sydney would be here if...she could." Michael let the pain hit his face and Dixon's frown came roaring back. "SD-6 is not CIA; t's not black ops. It's...it's a branch of the Alliance." Vaughn paused, letting the words sink in.

What he didn't expect was the sudden sharp laugh out of the man. "Bullshit. I'm calling Sydney," he growled and reached for the phone on his desk.

"She won't answer." He also didn't expect the ebony man's eyes to darken.

"That sounded like a threat." Vaughn hadn't heard the desk drawer open, nor did he see the hands moving slowly and methodically until the cocking of a hammer made him jump as his eyes darted down to the gun pointed in his direction. "No...Dixon-"

"Hands," the agent ordered, Vaughn sticking them with palms open into the air. "Tell me why she won't answer if I hit this button," Marcus ordered, his other hand cradling the cell phone, Michael recognizing the number on the screen instantly.

"Here," the young agent said softly, his hands still raised though he reached slowly down into his jacket with his left. His gun was tucked firmly against his side in the holster, but that wasn't what he was going for. His fingers pulled out a leather flip case, tossing it to the desk and letting the suspicious man lift and open it, revealing is credentials.

He thought Dixon was calming down, but instead, the man's finger pressed the call button and he set the phone to his ear.

"For your sake, hope that she answers."

Vaughn felt his frustration rise as more time was wasted, the clock ticking away in his brain. He felt a burning need stab into his stomach to get back to the office and see if Jack had found anything new.

"She can't answer because they have her. That's why I'm here." He felt his fingers tingle a bit as blood drained due to the upright position, but the gun was still trained squarely on his face and the hand that gripped the shiny firearm was unwaveringly steady.

The phone rang unanswered in his ear before going to voicemail, Marcus hanging up and setting it slowly on the desk.

"Since I have you here, you're going to answer some questions for me," he growled. "We've known for some time that SD-6 had a mole-."

"I'm not the mole. I...I don't work for SD-6, I work for the real CIA."

"If you say that one more time," the frustrated man growled, much Vaughn continued.

"Sydney is the mole. Your suspicions about her were right."

"What?" He looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"They were right and...and she hated that they were right. She hated every single moment you doubted her loyalty. It...it drove her crazy."

Michael saw the man's face fall at the confirmation of some form of betrayal, but he wasn't sure if it was about the job or about the man's partner - his partner. "Dixon, I need you to listen to me or you and your family could die."

"You're lying."

The hand holding the gun now had a slight shake to it, but Vaughn barreled on. "For the last 18 months, Sydney has been CIA. She worked with Jack inside the Alliance trying to bring them down. I'm not lying. Your suspicions were right, but she wasn't a bad guy, I promise," he pleaded.

"You're talking about her as if she's gone. Tell me what's happened."

"Dixon, SD-6 is a branch of the Alliance, they're not CIA. You have to believe me. I...I'll take you to our office and show you the evidence. You've been working for the people you thought you were fighting." Vaughn began to lower his hands seeing the shocked reaction Marcus wore, his words the equivalent of a slap across the face.

The newly informed SD-6 agent steeled his emotions, retraining the slightly lowered gun on the man in the rumpled suit making sure his hands stayed where he could see them. "How did you know what to say when I opened the door."

"Jack told me the protocol."

Dixon's eyes bored into his soul as he searched deep for the truth, and Michael continued despite the fact that his arms were getting tired. He decided to hit the father-figure where it hurt. "I promised Sydney that if she was compromised I would get you and your family to safety. As her partner, she thought you would be considered expendable and that the Alliance wouldn't believe that she'd done so much damage to them without help. She thought that...they wouldn't believe Jack was in on it over her actual partner."

"You...Sydney isn't-" the dark-skinned man gulped shaking his head as the gun wobbled. "Mr. Vaughn, you're telling me that everything I've believed in for over eleven years has been a lie. I can't...I can't-"

"Every lower-level agent was lied to. Is lied to."

Marcus glowered, "Sydney was lied to?"

'Oh, more than you know.' "Yes. She...after her fiance was killed...she learned the truth."

"How?"

"They tried to kill her." He was surprised by the shock that hit Dixon's face. "Jack saved her life and...told her the truth."

Dixon scoffed. "Jack recruited me into SD-6. You're telling me that he lied to me?"

"I'm telling you he didn't have a choice. The Alliance recruited you. Jack was just...doing his job."

Marcus shook his head, the gun lowering a little as Vaughn pulled his arm down a bit but kept his forearms upright with fingers spread.

"How do you know Sydney?"

"Dixon, we don't have time for-"

The gun was thrust minutely in his direction, the barrel shaky. "How."

"I'm her partner." A white lie, but not likely one that would hurt.

Nearly a minute went by as almost black eyes stared into pleading green, Vaughn speaking up with urgency in his voice.

"Dixon, Sydney has been compromised. I have to get all of you out of here."

The man fell back into the chair, the gun clattering on the desk as tears filled his eyes. He was defeated.

"Everything I've...has been for the wrong side? How...how much harm have I done?"

"Sydney did a lot to fix it, Marcus. Look, I'm sorry. I...I know it's a shock. I need you to get your family together so I can get you to the CIA field office. There's a van out front, Will and Francie are already inside."

Ignoring the urgency of Vaughn's request, the agent fixed him with a pointed stare. "How do you know Sydney's been compromised?"

Michael thought for a moment, realizing that the betrayed man may believe him, he certainly didn't trust him. "I've been Sydney's partner at the CIA for almost two years, and I know the pain you feel right now...the pain of losing her. I know you love her, and...and I know that she didn't want to hurt you like this. I'm sitting here instead of her only because of this situation. She always had the intention of being the one to tell you the truth."

Vaughn saw the sadness in the older man's eyes and knew that a very similar, yet altogether different, pain projected from every pore in his body. Dixon's question was quiet but stung like salt poured into an open wound, "you..don't sound like extraction is possible. Is it?"

Michael swallowed the lump rising in his throat. "We can feel the pain together later if you want but I promised her, Dixon. I promised I'd get you and your family somewhere safe."

A series of heart-pinching seconds ticked by, the man seeming to be lost in thought. Vaughn almost spoke up again when he uttered, "how can I help?"

Michael smiled thankfully, "you'll be taken into debriefing when we get to the facility, but...we'll be trying to figure out if you have any information that could help us find her."

Dixon leaned back in his seat lifting the gun and showing the agent that it wasn't loaded before he put it away. "You...do you know how strange it is to hear someone else say that they're Sydney's partner at the CIA?"

Vaughn relaxed his back in the chair. "I really am sorry to hit you with this."

"How compromised is compromised?"

Marcus saw the glistening of tears in the young green eyes and sighed with a nod, folding his hands in his lap. "You're the new guy," he said quietly, a tear dripping down his cheek before looking up at the confused young man opposite his desk. "For the last month she's had this...glow. And I pushed and poked her about it for days until she finally said 'he's really great', but that's all I could get out of her. It...makes sense now."

Vaughn's chin quivered as he focused his pained stare on the cherry wood desk. "We...couldn't. Uh," sniffle, "nothing happened."

Dixon chuckled. "I've been a stand-in as Sydney's father for years, you think I don't know what her glow means?"

Seeing that he wasn't going to be able to get out of the sudden inquiry, the young man sighed and slumped in his seat trying to redirect the conversation as it was hitting too close to his heart. "I...I felt so bad every time she had to lie to you. Every time she came to me to vent about the frustrations of us sabotaging your work and having you doubt your abilities or...or put you in danger."

"She talked to you about me?"

Vaughn smiled. "She did." He went quiet for a moment before meeting the other agent's eyes.

"I love her like a daughter, you know."

"I know, Marcus."

"You," he gulped past the tightness in his throat, "you love her too. And for that…I'm genuinely sorry."