AN: I apologize for the shorter chapter and the delay. I have a lot going on this week. Also, thank you to "Guest" for the review, I really appreciate it.

Chapter 8: The If, Then, Else

The Rendezvous

"NL2553," Will said again as he paced back-and-forth over the deck of the Rendezvous.

The sun was setting behind him and as he turned to walk back toward the bow he stopped and stared at the sunset. He took a moment to take it all in and smiled. Earlier today he could have died. Tears welled in his eyes as he felt his stomach twist at the thought. Bringing the beer bottle up to his lips, he took a drink and savored it as it went down his throat.

An hour ago, he'd exited off the MTA subway train in Culver City after doing exactly what Jack had instructed. The person Jack had sent to meet him had been the tailor: Leslie Cole. Leslie was an older African American man with gentle brown eyes and grey hair under a fedora who wore impeccable suits. Suits that Jack bought from him and that he also bought from him. Leslie had shown him to his car and from there drove him to the marina.

They barely spoke but what Leslie had told him was that Jack was an old friend. He also told him that he could trust him right before he handed him a new Noka cell phone.

"Jack said you had to ditch yours. Numbers are in the contacts. Yours and Jacks, and mine. For future reference."

Will had taken the phone with a soft thanks. And he did trust Jack. He trusted him enough to be on his yacht in Marina del Rey waiting for him to show up. Trusted him so much that even though a part of him was telling him to get as far away from Los Angeles as possible, another was telling him to stay right where he was.

Hank came back over the line as he told him, "The car's not registered to a person but a company."

Before he could finish, Will said, "Anicetus Security."

"How'd you know?"

Will let out a breath and said, "Call it a hunch. Thanks, Hank, I owe you." He ended the call and stared across the ocean and took another drink of the beer.

Everything led back to Jack's place of employment. To the company he worked for and the company Sydney's father owned. Despite his trust, he did verify with Luis Scourza, his contact at the airlines, that Jack Donahue had been out of the country for those two weeks.

Antonio Lafayette had visited Anicetus Security and then less than two weeks later, he was dead. Jack had been at Thrive. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Now, some psychopath who was driving a car registered to Anicetus Security was trying to kill him. He didn't understand that part. If "Deep Throat" wanted him to have the information about Lafayette and wanted him to cover a story on it, then why try to kill him?

Will headed down into the boat and picked up the papers he'd gotten from Charlie and sat down. It was going to take time to sort through everything and figure it all out. And that was assuming he could figure it all out. He had no idea what he was even looking for, until he saw it.

He had proof in his hands that a bank account connected to Anicetus Security had deposited money, $50,000, into Antonio Lafayette's bank account. The bank the account was connected to wasn't located in the United States. Anicetus Security was an international firm and the bank it used was located in Europe. He had no name associated with the bank, not even an address. All he knew was that it was in France.

He used the laptop computer Jack had on the boat and searched French banks that had that routing number. There wasn't one. How could a bank exist while at the same time not exist? Grabbing the papers that held all of the real estate properties associated with Anicetus Security, he found a reference to a property located in France. That had to be the bank. Right?

Picking up the beer, he downed the rest of it and tossed the bottle away. Will let out a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

What was going on? Why was he such a threat? What was he getting close to uncovering? And why did "Deep Throat" want to know about what Jack was doing? What was he missing?

He saw the police report sticking out of his bag and grabbed it. Taking it with him, he headed up to the deck to look it over. He needed air.

Turning the outside lights on to better read the pages of the report, he flipped through the witness statements from the people in the club that night. Jack had been right; there were a lot of people with the same replies over and over. They didn't see or hear anything.

Except for a guy named Gavin Villar who saw a man with blond hair in a nice suit struggling with a man in the hallway. There had also been a woman. Blond hair, short skirt, who ran after him out the backdoor. He didn't see anyone get shot, nor heard any gunfire over the music. He also saw him and Jack in the hallway. Gavin stated that the one of the men-

Will sat up straight as he re-read the statement.

"I saw the other guy going through the dead guy's wallet. He took something. I think it was his cell phone. Then he ran out the backdoor, but he came back and grabbed the other guy and they left."

He had to read it a few times to understand what he'd read. Jack had gone through the dead man's pockets and took his cell phone? Will searched through the pages until he found the evidence list of personal items found at the crime scene. There was a wallet listed, driver's license, bank card, money, business cards, and nothing else.

There was no mention of a cell phone recovered at the scene or of any keys. Will knew that Antonio Lafayette had driven to the club. His car had been towed; he should have at least had a set of keys on him for the car and his residence.

He remembered reading over the phone records of Lafayette's cell phone. On the night he'd been killed, he placed several calls from a number associated with a cellphone. Yet, there hasn't been a phone on him?

He went back below deck and in the papers that were scattered over the table found the phone records under the non-disclosure agreements (which were the craziest non-disclosures he'd ever read). The employees literally could not talk about their work associated with a subdivision of their company or else they could be "terminated". That alone wouldn't have been that interesting, but the language used about "operative provisions" and the "stipulations" felt more like it should have read "killed" instead of "terminated".

He searched the phone numbers and when he saw the one he was looking for, he felt himself get sick. His stomach turned and he dropped the file as he leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. At 20:11, from the duration of 1 minute and 3 seconds, Antonio Lafayette made an outgoing call from his missing cell phone to another cell phone: Jack Donahue's.

Will closed his eyes and shook his head. This couldn't be happening. This-

"Will?"

He looked up and saw Jack standing there at the bottom of the steps with a gun in hand.

"You okay?"

Will was certain he gave a nod but wasn't sure. Jack was giving him an odd look before he suddenly looked into the bathroom and then the room in the back of the boat. He crossed in front of him and checked the front room. Once he was satisfied, he holstered the gun and looked at him again. The concerned look had returned as he searched his face and then looked over the pages of information and files that littered the table and floor. Then his eyes stopped on something.

Following his eyes, he saw that he'd left the police report open on the evidence list and the phone records. Will swallowed the lump in his throat as he said, "He was missing his keys and cell phone." Looking up at him, he then said, "He called you?"

Jack picked up the file containing the phone records as he told him, "He called me."

Will felt the world start to tilt. Or was it his body? He had no idea. The next thing he knew he was standing and his hands were in his hair. "What is going?" he asked. Turning to face Jack, he saw him looking over the papers, pulling the police report over and reading it. "You lied to me. You said you didn't know him."

"I never said I didn't know him. You asked me about Lafayette visiting my place of employment, to which I told you I was unaware that he had," he calmly told him as he looked over the pages. Then he looked up at him and dropped the file on the table. "You need to calm dow-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" he snapped. Will immediately regretted that as he realized who he was yelling at. Jack had a gun. "I just-I don't-"

"Focus," Jack told him and for some reason that snapped his head up.

"What is going on? Who are you?" he asked. "This," he said as he gestured over the files upon files he had, "all is pointing to you! To your employer! The guy who was tailing me was driving a company car for Anicetus Security! And I-You talked to Lafayette the night he died, you were there, and you stole his phone and keys. Tell me I'm wrong?!"

"Did you see me kill him?" he asked, his voice calm.

He shut his eyes and felt like hitting something, or someone. "No," Will said but shook his head. This was all getting to be too much. Opening his eyes, he glared at him and asked, "Why did you steal his stuff? And I want the truth."

Jack worked his jaw and looked away. Will had already figured that look of Jack's out. It was a confirmation. "I will always tell you the truth," he said as he looked back at him. "He was the one I was waiting for that night."

"That's what the phone call was about? To set a meeting."

Jack gave a nod. "I took the phone hoping there would be something in it that I needed. The keys were so I could search his car. He had information-"

"So it wasn't to keep you from being a suspect or hinder the police investigation?'

Jack didn't say anything as he looked away again.

"Those phones records aren't from the police report, Jack, but from a flash drive that my source-"

"Will, that flash drive you received at your work, I'm the one who sent it to you. Not-"

Will froze as his face dropped. Jack...But his source tried to kill him? "You tried to kill me-"

"I would never do that," Jack snapped suddenly and stepped toward him.

He stepped back, startled and eyed the door. The door out was on the other side of Jack.

Jack raised his hands and calmed himself as he said, "I used a courier to deliver the flash drive. He works for the company. He's the one who's been following you. I did not order him to follow you. I didn't know he was going to pretend to be the source of the flash drive. And I certainly didn't order him to kill you."

"Why," he asked. "Why did you want me to-" he gestured over the files spread out.

"Because I knew you would do this. You're an amazing investigative reporter. I wanted you to cover the story." He leaned down and picked up the NDA from Anicetus Security. "You've read this Non-Disclosure Agreement?" When he gave a nod, he said, "Then you know that I couldn't be the one to talk. I had to leak the information."

"And what is that? I don't even know what's going on or-or what I'm even uncovering."

"That Anicetus Security isn't what it seems. It's a front company."

"Front company? Like...for the mob?" he asked in confusion. Will saw a pained look on Jack's face and sucked in a deep breath. "Oh...my God-"

"It's not the mob, but…" Jack shrugged, the implication was clear. It wasn't legal.

"And you work for them." That sounded accusing, which it was supposed to be. Will stared at him and suddenly looked at the gun on Jack's left hip.

"It's complicated. All I can tell you is that I work for the government. That's all you need to know. I would love nothing more than to tell you everything, but right now, I can't," he said in a soothing voice that caused him to look into his eyes.

Will wanted to believe him. He rubbed his eyes and felt the anger pulsing through his body. He wanted to believe Jack so much. He loved him. But he'd been burned before. He'd been lied to before.

Jack dropped his hands and stared at him as he stepped closer. "I would never lie to you," he told him. "You can trust me."


Four Hours Earlier

SD-6

Sloane paced back-and-forth behind his desk while he sat perfectly still in the chair in front of it as he said, "You're intimate with him."

"I'm failing to see how that's any of your business."

"He's a reporter, Jack."

"Emily was with the State Department," he countered.

"He's sticking his nose in our business," Sloane's voice was getting angrier, higher, as he rushed out, "He came to visit you here."

Jack remained as calm as ever as he explained, "We met in the lobby then we left to have lunch."

"He's investigating a shooting that involved one of our agents."

"I know he is. I'm the one that put him on the story."

"Why would you do that?"

"To control the situation because I am intimate with him. I know the real reason why Lafayette called me that night, Arvin. What I don't know is whether it was a test of loyalty or if something happened between us where putting a hit on my life was your only option."

Sloane sighed heavily and grabbed the back of his chair as he stared at him and worked his jaw. Jack stared right back at him as he resisted the urge to smile in triumph. He had him beat and he knew it. "I talked to Sark."

"Of course you did. It's the only way for you to have known about myself and Mr. Tippin. I'm also aware that he told you what I had him ask Lafayette during their confrontation last Friday night."

"Why did you have Stark ask Lafayette about Server 47?"

Jack simply told him, "I learned Lafayette was an asset for the C.I.A. and I had intel that he knew of Server 47 and its whereabouts. I wasn't certain of the reliability of either so I set Sark up to question him. It was a simple bait-and-switch to catch Lafayette off guard and to hopefully get some information. Sark, unbeknownst to me at the time, acted in self-defense and killed him. Once I learned it was Sark who had killed Lafayette, I wanted to control the outcome of the investigation and the impending news story to make certain SD-6 didn't get exposed. I had learned Mr. Tippin was a reporter and he'd been a witness. Only logical thing to do was to take Mr. Tippin into my confidence, which I've done, and to ensure that he was the one covering the story. Sark then decided to go rogue and act as the "source" of the intel that I'd given Tippin. He not only put me in danger of being exposed, but SD-6. Not to mention he tried to kill Mr. Tippin earlier today without consulting me about his intentions. Was you aware of this?"

Sloane sighed as he tapped the back of the chair. He then walked around and sat down; he leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingers together in front of his chin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jack knew that by side-stepping his question with a question of his own Sloane had admitted to him that he, indeed, knew. He was getting tired of these games, especially when it came to Arvin Sloane. He was sitting across from a man whom he knew tried to have his daughter killed by the assassin known as the Snowman two years ago. Granted, he didn't think Sloane knew that the undercover C.I.A agent was Sydney, but that didn't change anything.

Answering Sloane's question, he told him, "I had my reasons. Besides the fact you had the week off, knowing you had sent Lafayette to kill me made me equally suspicious of you, Arvin. I didn't know if I could trust you seeing how I'm not privy to why you took such action. You didn't go through our security section. The only reason not to use Alliance security would be because I wasn't considered a security risk to the Alliance. You had nothing that would have been sufficient enough for them to take that course of action. Therefore, it had to be personal."

"And yet, here you are in my office despite the fact I sent Lafayette to kill you."

"I'm here due to my loyalty not only to SD-6 and the Alliance, but to you. I know trust doesn't come easy to you, Arvin, or to anyone in this line of work for that matter, but I do hope that when it comes to me and you that you can take my loyalty on faith alone."

"Can I take it on faith, Jack, or is it because I'm the man your daughter calls "dad"?"

Jack stared over at him as he felt the anger clench his chest. Sloane did know how to stab him directly in the heart. "I guess it's a little bit of both," he told him. "Nothing between us has changed. At least, the foundation and fundamentals of our relationship since I joined SD-6. So, why did you send Lafayette to kill me?"

Sloane sat a long moment, watching him, taking him in and digesting his words as he weighed his options. All he needed to do was give him the answer he already knew was coming. Jack had been the one to start this snowball effect toward this moment weeks ago. Nothing was by chance or happenstance. Sloane had yet to realize that he was the one being played. That all the players on the board were there because he had been the one to set the board.

He decided to meet in the parking lot of the airport. He'd just gotten through with a mission in Shanghai that'd taken him away for two weeks. Before that, a month long assignment in Rome. It hadn't been Sloane's doing, but his own. He put himself on these assignments to be gone, away, when things were happening. Everything was falling into place. He'd set it up like dominoes. It was time to knock it all down.

Antonio Lafayette would be the first domino to fall.

"He's going to ask you a series of questions. Questions you don't know the answers to so don't even try to give an answer. I'll order him not to kill you-"

"But I'll give him no choice."

"Honestly, he'll kill you regardless."

Antonio Lafayette looked over at him. His face was emotionless, still, very much like his own. He's known Lafayette for over a decade but the older man had been a asset for nearly forty years, both with the C.I.A. and the Alliance. He hadn't been the only one playing both sides of the field. They've both been in the spy game far too long. "So will my illness. So will the Alliance or the C.I.A., or this other group-whoever in the hell they are. I'd rather do it this way. The last thing I wanted was a meaningless death. Are you for certain this agent of yours can be trusted to kill me?"

Thinking about Sark, he told him, "Positive. It'll get back to Sloane what I had him ask you and your death will catch the attention of the C.I.A., and the questions Sark asks you will get them closer than they've ever been to taking down the Alliance." Jack studied his face and gave a nod. "If you're still breathing, if you're suffering-"

"Don't do anything that'll implicate you, Jack. This is far too important. You'll handle the investigation into my death on the SD-6 side?" When he gave a nod, Antonio told him, "Good. There are things you need to know. Things you're going to find out that I wish I could explain..."

Jack considered his words. What had he not been told? "What aren't you-"

"As for the C.I.A., I'll leave enough for them on my hard drive. They will backup my files on the main servers at the consulate. The passcode is "strong dog" in French..."Fort Chien"."

Jack looked at him a moment then said, "Thanks for clarifying. I would've assumed the correct order of words to be "chien fort". The entire mission would've been blown over a grammatical error."

"Precisely why I clarified," Antonio said with a laugh. "I'm not going to miss your technicality, Jack."

"At least for now you get to find it funny."

Antonio looked away, out the windshield of his car as the laughter died down. Jack knew his mind had gone elsewhere. On his impending death? Whatever it was, Antonio had to make peace with it because death was coming.

There were many possible outcomes. Too many variables to see it all clearly. He knew he had to stay one step ahead, or two, at all times in order to compensate and have time to develop any countermeasures. Sloane had accused him once of being too smart for his own good. One day, Sloane would get the jump on him because while he was able to plan for most contingencies, there were many that he couldn't see. People weren't logical at all times. People were the most unpredictable variables in every situation.

Sloane was the most unpredictable variable. If given the chance, he would kill him. Lafayette would give Sloane reason to doubt him and possibly even kill him.

To his surprise, Sloane smiled as he lied to him as he tried to make him believe it had been a bluff. It hadn't been a bluff. His so-called best friend wanted him dead. "It was a test of loyalty. We received information. It wasn't sufficient, like you said, but enough to make us concerned. I knew you weren't a traitor and that there had to be a logical explanation because with you there always is. I had Lafayette brought here to confront him about the intel and to assess his affiliation. I tasked him to kill you to see how it played out. He didn't tip you off and he was going to go through with it. You, on the other hand, called Sark."

"Which I wouldn't have done if I were C.I.A. myself. I would have never allowed Lafayette to be set up, yet alone killed."

"Sark told me you ordered him not to kill him."

Jack did huff out a laugh then as he said, "I knew he wouldn't follow orders. One way or another, Lafayette wouldn't have lived. Sark likes going rogue, he gets off on it. I let him have a moment of exhilaration thinking he got away with disobedience."

Sloane looked away, having realized the truth in everything he'd said because it all was true. Every last word. Jack knew Sloane was also confused by it. He'd been so certain of his guilt. So certain of what he'd been shown and told and that to know he was telling the truth had caused him to reassess everything he thought he knew.

Jack wanted to smile, but he knew the reason why this game had to be developed in the first place. He'd been so close to getting caught. So close to being found out that the only option he had was to hurry up the end game while at the same time disproving his disloyalty to SD-6. It was elaborate but elaborate was the only way for it to work. It was so ridiculous it had to be true.

"This is why the Alliance doesn't know what to do with you sometimes, Jack. Instead of outright telling us what we need to know, you assign yourself these missions to take care of the problem yourself. It looks like you're trying to cover your own tracks."

"I assure you that's not what I am doing, however, I can see how it can appear that way. And in this business, appearances can be deceiving, even deadly."

"Careful, Jack, being too smart for your own good might be the death of you one day."

"I'm certain it will be. Just not today."

"No, not today. The Alliance still values your intelligence, no matter how self-destructive it is."

Jack heard the threat in Sloane's voice loud and clear. The Alliance, currently, was the only one who still had value for his intelligence. Sloane, however, didn't. His value to him was slipping and had slipped considerably since Emily had died. He remembered their talk at his house a while ago and wondered if Sloane's obsession with Sydney, and their growing closeness had been the catalyst that had propelled Arvin into this direction.

"Thank you," Jack said as he tried to remain natural. "The last thing I would want is for the Alliance to think that I'm no longer too smart for my own good; it is one of my expertise, and job security is a high priority of mine."

Sloane continued to glare at him, not finding him amusing at all.

Ending the staring contest, he said as he stood, "If we're done here, I have a briefing with Agent Vaughn."

Sloane gestured that they were done as he told him, "We're done, for now. I will need the full disclosure of what happened in Vienna from you by the end of the day."

"I'm aware. McCullough wants to meet with me first to ensure my honest intentions in disclosing what happened honestly. Once he confirms I'm telling the truth, I'll debrief you." Again, not even a smirk from Sloane. He thought that was damn funny.

As he was about to leave the office, he heard Sloane ask, "Did you see Niels Hater while you were in Vienna?"

Jack turned to face Sloane as he thought over how to answer the question. "Niels...He's our asset with the Tirad. Why would I have reason to visit him?"

Sloane stared at him as he told him, "He was murdered yesterday by an unknown assailant."

"He was selling us information; easy to assume he was discovered and killed in retaliation."

"Yes, easy to assume," Sloane said as he continued to look at him, unflinching. "I sent one of our agents to Budapest. We have reason to believe the Tirad are using the bomb shelter under the magistrate bureau to test weapons."

"Why wasn't I informed-"

"We had to act quickly. You were in the air. Now, that's all."

Jack left the office as he searched around for Julian Sark. Not seeing the agent anywhere, he motioned for Vaughn to join him in a conference room.


Budapest

Tuesday, Midday

Sydney spotted Valerie Kholokov, the ex-KGB agent, as she ducked behind the wall. She was in the viewing room that overlooked the "classroom" where sixteen children, all ranging from 5 to seven years of age, were training. Peering up through the glass, she saw as the children, who were blindfolded, assembling guns.

She picked up the gun and felt the weight of it in her hand. She checked the chamber to ensure it was empty and the safety to ensure it was on. As she grabbed the fully loaded magazine, she had the odd sensation like she'd done this before. She instinctively loaded it into the gun and hit the slide stop to release the slide forward while at the same time chambering a bullet.

Looking over at him, she saw a look on his face before it was gone. Surprise? No, that wasn't it. It was something else. Concern? "How-How did I know that? It felt like…"

It felt like she'd done it before. She stared down at the children as they held the guns pointed at the ceiling and pulled the triggers. A sense of deja vu washed over her and she felt herself start to sway. Her head spun, making her dizzy. She dropped to the floor and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath.

"Freelancer! Freelancer! Syd, come in-"

"Dixon," she said softly as she focused on trying to clear her head. "I'm here."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm good. Heading to extraction."

As she headed up and out of the building, she exited the building and spotted a familiar face. It was Blondie. The SD-6 agent, Julian Sark. Their eyes locked and he gave her an odd look as he tilted his head. His eyes narrowed as she turned to walk away, towards the van where Dixon was waiting for her.

"Syd, you've got company."

Glancing over her shoulder, Sark was on her tail. Damn. He must've recognized her from club Thrive, but how? She had a wig, a pair of pink glasses, and she was certain he'd been staring at her legs more than her face. She remembered the look on his face after he shot Lafayette. The wink he'd given her.

"Go now. Run."

She didn't even bother to look back as she started running. She only had Dixon's directions to rely on as he led her around the foreign Hungarian streets and down the steps that lead to Fovam Square.

"The Central Market Hall, directly in front of you. I'll be waiting out the West exit."

"West exit? That's to my right, right?" Sydney asked as she took a glance behind her and spotted Sark gaining ground as he barely dodged between a woman and her stroller.

"That's affirmative."

The Central Market in Hungary was located through wrought iron doors of a neo-gothic building that could've been constructed a century ago. There were three floors of stalls and vendors all selling produce, food, wine and liquor, and authentic Hungarian made souvenirs. It was huge. There were innocent civilians everywhere, having been midday the market was at the peak hours. Spotting a set of stairs, she headed toward them and ran up to the second level. There was a vendor selling produce up ahead on the left. Rows and rows of fruits were piled up in stacks. As she passed, she knocked it over and behind her the floor was littered with the fruit as it left no square foot of floor to walk on.

Sark tried to plow through but lost his balance on the rolling apples and oranges. He slipped and fell as she continued running. There was a walkway connecting the left side of the second level to the right side and she took it and headed toward the open window she spotted at the end of the walkway, next to the vendor selling Magyar cuisines, mostly soups such as veal meat soup, Krumplileves, and Csontleves with made to order sandwiches.

"Uh, Dixon…" she said as her heart was pounding in her chest. "Where exactly are you parked?"

"I'm in the street waiting in front of the exit door."

"Well, that's good. I'm coming out the window a floor above the exit door."

"You're what?!"

Why did she do these things?, she asked herself right before she sped up. She was going to have to jump to catch the ledge and then pull herself up to get out the window. As she got to the brick wall, she jumped and used her right foot to help boost herself higher as she caught the ledge of the window and pulled herself up. She nearly fell back down as her foot slipped. Looking back as she got halfway out the open window, she spotted Sark. He was running toward the wall to follow her out.

This guy didn't know when to quit.

There was a landing outside the window, giving her about a two to three foot ledge to stand on as she spotted the van. Below her were cars parked diagonally along the street. Looking down the row of cars, she saw an opening toward the end of the street.

"See that opening in the cars in front of you? Get there," she told him before she started running, putting one foot in front of the other and hoping like hell she didn't slip. She didn't see Sark, but she knew he was right behind her. She could feel him.

The van pulled in lengthwise into the opening as she neared the edge of the ledge, angling her body just right, and jumped. She hit the roof of the van and immediately dropped to her knees and braced her arms in front of her to keep herself from impacting the roof face first.

She felt the van move but then it came to a gradual stop at the end of the street. Dixon had wanted to get the van away from the edge of the building to keep Sark from jumping onto it after her. The passenger door opened and she slid off the roof and into the passenger seat.

Closing the door, she smiled at Dixon and said, "Nice catch."

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "You couldn't have just gone out the door, could you?"

"Ran out of time."

"Let's get out of here."

She leaned her head back against the seat and tried to steady her breathing as Dixon drove away. "How does Sark look?"

Dixon glanced into the side mirror and smiled. "Exhausted. Dejected. I think you hurt his feelings."

She started laughing. Another successful mission.


Present Time

The Rendezvous

As he stared at Will, all his resolve seemed to fade away. When he heard that Sark tried to kill him, his only goal at the time was to keep Will alive. Instincts had kicked in and he focused his thoughts on getting Will to safety, nothing else mattered.

Seeing Will standing there before him alive and well but with his eyes so full of fear nearly broke him. Will was terrified of him. He couldn't handle that look.

"I would never lie to you. You can trust me," he told him.

Will shook his head but he didn't try to leave. His eyes were searching around, trying to figure out what the truth was and if he was even telling him the truth.

There was a conditional proof, or conditional probability, that stated that "if x then y" with x being the cause of y. Cause and effect. The simplest and most logical reasoning tool to exist. The "if then" statement was used to make a decision when there were only two options. If there were more than two options then one would use "if then else" to reason out the conditions. People had been using that formula since the dawn of man to make rational, reasonable, choices about life, love, where to eat, and so on.

Jack had been working his brain going over all the "If then" scenarios in his head the moment he stepped foot onto his yacht. He had to tread lightly, delicately, in order not to put Will in further danger. He told himself that he would do anything to protect Will and that didn't changed. What changed were the dangers to Will's life.

The simplest "if then" statements that entered his mind were the only two possible scenarios that mattered to him at the moment. If he told Will the truth, then he would be outed as being an operative involved in a terrorist organization. He couldn't even tell Will the truth that he was a double agent for the CIA because his operation was covert and classified. If he lied to Will, then he would lose him. Being caught in a lie would end his relationship. And, honestly, he didn't want to lie to Will.

So, he was left with "else".

His only third option. Distraction.

Jack stepped up to Will as he stepped back against the wall. "Stop being afraid of me."

"I'm not-"

"You are. You're afraid of me," Jack said and saw Will ducked his head. He caught it with his hand. Tilting Will's head back toward him, he said, "You're intimidated. Why?"

He saw the timid look in Will's eyes, the way he kept trying to look away. It was so easy to read Will because he never hid himself. Never tried to put up a wall or keep anyone out. Jack could see the hurt. Will's confusion and pain. He knew without asking that he'd been used, taken advantage of and discarded. Will had been lied to before. He's been someone's fool. Jack knew what Will felt because he'd been there. It was why he'd spent the last twenty years guarding his heart. Why he had walls in front of walls.

He was tired of the walls. Tired of hiding himself because he saw what was under Will's fear and intimidation. He saw Will's longing for trust; he wanted to believe him and was desperate to know for certain that he was wrong about him. That he wasn't someone who would hurt him. That he was someone he could love, because he loved him.

If Will loved him, then...he wanted to love Will back.

There was no "else".

He wanted to show him who he really was. No holding himself back from what he was capable of. Of how he could love him and protect him. He wanted to show Will the man he was. He wanted that man to be the one who Will knew.

He wanted Will to know Jack Bristow.

Even now, as he stared down at Will, and Will did all he could to not look at him, he could feel their connection. He felt it so deep inside his body it hurt. He knew in his mind that he'd fallen days ago, perhaps weeks ago, but the sensation of falling in love was just now catching up to his heart.

Will had found that missing connection that he thought he'd been gone for so long that no one would've ever been able to forge that link between his head and heart again. Somehow, Will had done it with no effort at all. Will made him love him.

All he had to do was look at him. Smile at him. Kiss him.

God, he wanted him so bad. He never wanted to let go.

"Don't you ever wonder where all that fear and feelings of intimidation comes from?" Jack found himself asking Will as he leaned down to his ear.

His heart was pounding in his chest as his finger lightly touched Will's jaw to keep him from moving his head away from his. Will could've if he wanted. It wasn't a strong touch, not even his whole hand, only his fingertips held his head in place. What really kept Will from moving away wasn't fear, but his desperation to know the truth.

Anticipation filled his chest, sending heat over his body as he started to sweat. He wasn't the only one as he saw the sweat beads start to fall down Will's face and along his neck. Moving his hand down, he used his thumb to wipe the sweat off Will's neck before he leaned down and placed a kiss there. There was an intake of breath, and as he lifted his head, saw Will had closed his eyes.

Letting him keep a hand on his neck, Will, despite his fear, was giving him so much trust. Jack could feel Will's pulse under his fingertips. "Do you ever think about why you always feel so weak, so...unsettled, when you're around me?"

Will swallowed hard against his hand. "How do you know how weak I feel?"

Jack stared down into his eyes as he said, "You're an open book. That's not a bad thing. I love how easy it is to read you. It's why I trust you. It's why I know what you want, and what you don't want."

His hand dropped from Will's throat to his waist. Their breathing was getting heavy between them as his hand moved up and under Will's shirt. Touching his skin, he felt the shaking and shivers that prickled at his fingertips and under his palms.

"I can feel how you shake when you're trying to be the one in control." He let out a breath as he told him, "You don't want to be in control."

He dropped his other hand off the wall and moved it up and under Will's shirt. Grasping him on his waist, he pulled his body closer to his as he let his finger lightly trail over Will's skin. He felt the shivering turn to goosebumps under his palms. Will knew what he was saying was true, because it was the truth. He saw it in Will's eyes.

Jack stared down into his eyes as he said, "You hate having to be the one to take care of everything."

Will tried to laugh a little and turn from him, but he wouldn't let him. No. He knew exactly what Will really wanted in a relationship. And he wanted to be the one to give it to him.

"Don't do that," he told Will. "Stop it. Stop-"

Will tried to laugh and shook his head as he said, "You don't know me. You don't know-"

"You don't just need someone to hold you, Will, you want it. You want to be taken care of. You want someone to be there to catch you when you fall."

"How can you know that?" Will asked as his eyes grew dark, almost angry, but before he let the anger take over he ducked his head in shame instead.

That gesture nearly sent him off in anger of his own as he reached up and touched Will's cheek. He would never, no matter how angry he was at Will, would never raise a hand to him. Leaning his head back so he could see his face, he shook his head at him. Silently telling Will to not look away from him again.

Jack saw the resolve in Will start to break as tears filled his eyes and his body pushed into his. He knew it. He was right. Closing his eyes, he fought back the urge to shut this down. To stop and turn away and to leave. His mind was telling him to end this. His heart was telling him something completely different.

He didn't want this to stop.

Dropping his hand back down to Will's waist, Jack asked, "When was the last time you were held?" The shiver returned to Will's body, causing his own body to ache. "I mean, really held? Have you ever felt at home in someone's arms?" His hands moved around to Will's back and gently pushed them closer. "Felt safe? Loved?"

He could have kissed him if he wanted, they were so close, but he wanted Will to be the one to make the move first. Will's arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as the heat got heavier.

Taking a breath, he asked Will, "Have you ever felt that they were all you needed in the world?" He saw the tears in Will's eyes fall. "Have you?"

Will whispered out of his dry mouth, telling him, "I have...with you."

Jack closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Will's. He swallowed hard at that admission. It sent a wave of relief and possessiveness through him that no one else besides him had ever touched Will the way he touched him. No one had ever made him feel the way he made him feel.

"That's because that's what it feels like to be held by a real man," he told him. "I'm the one in control, and I will take care of you, protect you...Keep you safe-"

Will's lips landed on his as he pushed against him, deepening the kiss. He was desperate and his body shook as he fought through his fear to get exactly what it was he wanted. Jack felt his heart swell as he knew that Will wanted him and everything that he could give him.

He would kill for Will.

Julian Sark was a dead man.

TBC...