A/N: I'm uploading 2 chapters today, January 31st.
Ch. 23: A Double Agent
Safe House
London
The door to the safe house opened and she heard, "Sydney's finally here so you better behave yourself." As he turned to face her, she had her gun drawn and pointed at his face. Will's eyes widened as he held up his hands. "Syd-"
"Back into the room, go."
Will blinked but backed up as she came into the flat and shut the door. "What're-"
"I'll ask the questions. Now, move." She forced him down the hallway and as she entered the living room saw Vaughn and a woman sitting on the couch.
They both stood, on alert as she kept the gun on Will. Or at least the man with Will's name.
"I can explain-" Will started to say as Vaughn cut him off.
"Sydney what's going on?" Vaughn asked.
Tossing Vaughn a pair of flexi-cuffs, she told him, "Secure him. I have questions."
"Syd-" Will started to protest as Vaughn did as he was instructed. "You don't need to do this."
Yanking his arms around to his back, Will was cuffed and shoved down into a chair. The woman had grabbed a gun. "Are you Renée?"
"Oui," she said as she watched everyone closely.
Dixon had briefed her on Renée Rienne and so far she wasn't a threat. Looking back down at Will, she holstered her gun as she asked Vaughn, "Everything okay?"
He gave a nod as he looked at her and then walked over and kissed her. Then he asked, "What in the hell is this about?"
She took a breath and looked at Will as she said, "It's about the fact that Will Tippin died in 1978. At the age of 3."
Will didn't even flinch. It was like he was expecting it. "My bag. Michael, get my bag. Syd, I was going to tell you-"
"That you're not who you've pretended to be! We know that you're the Prometheus that was in the code. What we don't know is who you really are, because you are not Will Tippin, and why-"
"Michael, please," Will said as he looked at Vaughn. "Everything you want to know is in my bag."
Vaughn looked at her and crossed the room to retrieve the bag. He opened it and pulled out a thick file. The writing on it was Cyrillic. It was a Russian file.
"I'm not Russian born," Will told her. "My birth name is Ryan Robert Ferro. I'm from Philadelphia. Sydney, when I was a child, I was orphaned-"
"You were a test subject of Project Christmas," Vaughn said as he handed his file to Sydney. Looking at her, he said, "Then he became subject one. Your father continued the program after it was decommissioned, with him." As she stared at him in disbelief, he finished by saying, "It says he's not just a sleeper agent, but an assassin."
"I had no idea," she heard Will say as her mind started spinning. "I swear. I had no memory-"
"Shut up," she told him as she opened the file and looked through it. There was a lot to take in.
Most importantly, her father, Jack, had continued a black ops government operation despite being shut down and he had turned a child into not only a spy but a killer. In the file were operations that Will-Ryan-had been involved with going all the way back to 1988. He was only thirteen years old. However, the operations weren't American. They were Russian.
"Is that why your apartment was bugged?" Vaughn asked Will. "You're a Russian asset?"
"I told you it's complicated," Will answered as he twisted in the chair. "I'm not your enemy! Jack and I have-"
"Jack," Sydney said as she looked over at Will, "where is he?"
Vaughn looked at Will as he told her, "He's with Tom. He's okay."
She shook her head at the name Tom. "Tom? Who's Tom?"
"Tom is Thomas Grace," Will answered, bringing her attention back to him. "Former military. Ex-Special Forces. He's an asset we acquired in Morocco. He has a friend, Rachel, who I'm certain is a girlfriend, who is, or was, Prophet Five. Once she learned that she was working for the bad guys and not the good guys, she turned double agent."
"And how did you get involved in all this?" she asked Renée.
She gestured to Vaughn as she told her, "Our fathers worked together-"
"I brought her in," Vaughn suddenly cut Renée off as he walked over to her. She stared up at him as he looked down at her and said, "We need to talk."
She gave a nod and took a sip of the coffee before asking, "Is it about what you took from the safety deposit box back in L.A.?"
"You followed me?" he asked in disbelief. "Why-"
"I knew you were hiding something-"
"You could have asked."
"Would you have told me the truth?" At his look, she knew his answer. She saw the anger in his eyes before he shook his head and stepped away.
"I would have told you everything," he said.
"Then why didn't you just tell me-"
"I wanted to!" he said as he looked over at the other two people in the room. "Can we not do this now."
"Now is the only time we're doing this," she said as she ignored the other two people in the room as she kept her eyes on her boyfriend as he grabbed the back of the couch in anger. "I wasn't trying to-"
"Stop," he said as he shook his head. "If we can't trust one another, then maybe-"
"I trust you," she said as she felt a knot grow in her stomach. "I wasn't even upset about it. I'm not upset about it now. I don't know where that came from. I didn't think that whatever you took was a danger to me or the country. I knew it had to be personal, otherwise, you wouldn't want to keep it a secret."
"I should have told you sooner, but I didn't think it was-That my father's work had anything to do with any of this. Then Marshall mentioned Prophet Five and it all came back."
"Your father's work had something to do with Prophet Five when he was CIA?"
He looked up at her as he said, "He wasn't always a CIA agent, Sydney. He wasn't even always William Vaughn."
She stared at the man she loved as she listened to his words.
Vaughn looked away and then back at her as he said, "Will Tippin isn't the only one born with a different name."
"What are you saying?" she asked as dread built from the knot in her stomach.
He looked at the other two people in the room and she realized from their silence that they both knew the truth. And she didn't. "My name's not Michael Vaughn. It's André Michaux, and my father worked on the Prophet Five Project. I thought he died in 1979; we all thought he was killed by your mother. Jack and Will received information that that might have been a lie. They think...We think he might still be alive."
She tried to control her breathing as she took everything in. She hadn't known what to expect but this wasn't it. "Does Dixon know?"
"He knows some of it. I didn't tell him everything the last time I talked to him. I didn't tell him about my father. I don't...Until we're certain-"
"How could he still be alive?"
"I don't know. We weren't told how he was killed. He could have been MIA and they never found a body. A body could have been found and they assumed it was him but unconfirmed. His death could have been staged. Syd-" he stopped himself as he stared at the floor.
He'd been thinking about this for a while. She remembered how she felt when she found out about Jack and Irina being her parents who she believed had died. There was a lot of anger and bitterness but also questions. She still had questions. And worst part of it was that Irina was now dead, really dead, and she would never get to know her mother at all. She knew what Jack had said, she had heard Irina's own words about not caring about her because she was Jack's daughter, but that didn't mean that she hadn't wanted to talk to Irina. To get answers.
Vaughn also had a lot of questions. A lot of anger and confusion. But most of all, she knew he wanted to find out the truth about whether or not his father was alive.
"What's his name? Your father?"
"François André Michaux."
She gave a nod and said, "If he's alive, we'll find him." She saw the relief in his eyes. He smiled and gave a nod. She understood, and she did. If there was anything she'd learned from the past couple of years was that some things just weren't worth fighting about. Everyone had secrets.
"Is there anything else I need to know?"
Vaughn looked away and she got her answer. There was, but now wasn't the time or place.
Right now, they had the issue of the imposter Will Tippin to deal with. Sydney looked at Will and saw that he didn't appear to be a threat, but-She spent the entire flight trying to figure out how she felt about the knowledge that the real Will Tippin was dead and that this man was an imposter. That the reporter she knew and had trusted as a friend for the last four years wasn't a friend to her at all, but a spy. Now that she confronted him, and had gotten immediate answers, she still felt angry. Distrustful. The distrust made her not only question his motivations, but herself. How could she have been so blind to have been fooled?
She thought of Jack and considered how he could have been fooled as well. It wouldn't have been the first time. Then she thought about the fact that she was a Bristow and maybe their biggest flaw was trusting the enemy. She had trusted Arvin Sloane for nearly her entire life, and so had Jack, and he had been their biggest enemy.
Looking at Vaughn, she asked, "What do you think about him?" as she gestured to Will.
He looked at Will and then answered, "I think if he wanted to do something, he would have already done it. I also trust your father." He trusted Jack? She thought as she stared over at her boyfriend. At her look, he smiled and said, "I know, but if he trusts him enough after everything, then, I think so should we."
"Jack doesn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to not being fooled by double agents."
"Hey!" Will shouted as he glared over at her. "I didn't even know who I was until about a year ago. And the only reason I know the truth now is because of Jack. You're his daughter, and I'm your friend," he stressed as she saw tears in his eyes before adding, "and I love you both. Syd, before Jack and I split up, I promised him that I would do anything for him, even give my life to protect you if something were to happen to him. I intend to keep my promise whether you trust me or not."
Sydney wanted to believe him. She really did, but uncertainty filled her head as well as a strong sense that she did not want to be wrong. If she was wrong, then she was the fool who let a wolf in the door. Looking back at Vaughn, she asked, "Have you seen Jack since you've been in the country? Talked to him personally?"
He shook his head. "No, I haven't."
"Then how do you know what Will says is the truth?"
"You can talk to Jack right now," Will said, "but I would suggest that only Michael. We don't know how he'll react to hearing your voice."
"It'll be me or no one." Sydney pulled out her phone and waited.
Will didn't look too happy about it but he told her the number. She held the phone to her ear as it rang. And it rang and rang. Finally she snapped the phone shut.
"You can try Tom. He'll be with Jack."
She flipped the phone open and stared at Will as she waited for the number. Once she punched it all into the phone, she held it to her ear.
After a couple of rings, a man answered, "Who is this and how did you-"
"This is Sydney, Jack's daughter. Who are you?"
"I'm Tom."
"Is he with you?"
"Yes."
"Then put him on."
"I don't think you understand how dangerous-"
Sydney pulled her gun and pointed it at Will. He paled as he stared at her in surprise. "You can't see me right now, Tom, but I have my gun pointed at Will Tippin. If you do not put my father on so I know that you're both telling me the truth, I will shoot him."
"Do what she says," Will yelled out loud enough for Tom to hear him through the phone.
She heard Tom cuss under his breath before she heard him say, "It's for you."
"Who is it?" she heard Jack's voice before he spoke into the phone, "Hello? This is Jack."
Along the River Thames
Westminster, London
He sat on a bench near the river as he eyed the building across the street. The main building was made of brick and cinder. There were cameras on the doors, a fence around the perimeter, gated entrances, but there were no guards and not a single light was on in any of the rooms in any of the buildings.
Tom walked up, hands stuffed in his pockets and asked, "I got your message. What's up?"
Jack gestured to the bollard that was near the river and said, "Take a look."
Tom went over to the large circular bollard that stood by the river and read the inscription. "Near this site stood Millbank Prison which was opened in 1816 and closed in 1890. This buttress stood at the head of the river steps from which, until 1867, prisoners sentenced to transportation embarked on their journey to Australia."
"Seek the Thames prison was part of the code. It's no longer a prison, but...This is it."
Tom looked across the street at the buildings, the fence, and gate. "Looks abandoned."
"Rachel says that it used to be the Royal Army Medical School up until 1999. Then it sat unoccupied for a year. Then OMNIFAM bought it. That was up until a week ago."
"They sold it?"
"It's been decommissioned. The building is listed, meaning it's a historical site. It can't be demolished, altered, or extended without special permission."
"Maybe whatever OMNIFAM had in mind for the building wasn't approved so they had to scrap the idea. Jack, are we going to go in or just talk about it?"
He stood and headed across the street. Tom followed.
"Where is Rachel?"
He glanced at Tom and then looked around at the adjacent building. "She's around. Watching our six."
Tom tapped his ear, silently asking if he had an earpiece. Just then Rachel spoke into his ear, "Tell him he owes me a drink. He thought if you passed out, I wouldn't be able to drag your heavy ass into the room all by myself."
"She says you owe her a drink," he told Tom as they neared a door to the building.
"I'll get right on that," Tom said as he checked the door. It was locked.
All the doors were locked. He saw a dead-end street used as parking along the side of the building. There was a low brick wall separating the parking from the perimeter of the building. It was low enough to easily climb over. Walking over to a window, he didn't see any other option.
"This is a historical building so maybe we shouldn't be breaking windows."
He looked at Tom as he jabbed the glass with his elbow, shattering it, before reaching in and unlocking the window so he could open it.
Tom smiled slightly. "Yeah…okay. You don't care. I get it."
Jack climbed through first and Tom followed. The room they entered appeared to have been a classroom. Out in the hallway, he looked around at the peeling paint and chipped brick and cinder and the rusting ceiling from water leaks. There were plastic sheets, drop cloths, and abandoned painting equipment.
"They got out of here in a hurry. Left all the equipment."
"They weren't expecting you."
"What'd you mean?" Tom asked. "Your extraction? We rescued you and so they had to vacate in case you remembered and brought the Feds down on top of them?"
"Something like that."
He spotted a room and as he walked in, he stopped two water tubs. Walking over to the tubs that had been used to torture him, and at the floor, he remembered being shocked more than once as he laid on the tile. "Some forms of torture, electroconvulsive shock therapy for example, can cause amnesia. They did more to me than electroconvulsive shock therapy. They used these tubs to torture me and cause me to go into cold shock. Then they zapped me, probably with an electric cattle prod."
"Cattle prods and cold shock. That sounds like a party," he said sarcastically as he looked around.
"Back in the early twentieth century," he told him, "hydrotherapy was used to treat mental illness. They used tubs just like this. One hot water and one cold. But, the hot water was never over ninety-seven degrees Fahrenheit and the cold never dropped below forty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. To torture someone, you set one tub to over one-hundred and twenty degrees, but below one-forty. And the cold tub, freezing temperatures, at least thirty-two degrees or below. Then, back-and-forth. Into the hot tub for about fifteen seconds so as not to cause serious burns, and then into the cold one until the loss of dexterity sets in, which is about two minutes. Throw them back into the hot tub just long enough for blood flow to circulate again, and then back into the cold. Maybe for about four minutes. Do that until they lose consciousness or cold shock sets in, and then...electrocution. That will either jumpstart their heart or flatline them. If they flatline, adrenaline to bring them back. Then, repeat."
Tom paled slightly as he thought about that. "They stopped your heart?"
"Probably multiple times." He thought about that and then said, "I'm going to have to get a physical to make sure my heart isn't damaged."
"Have you ever done that to someone?"
He looked over at Tom and said, "I once got information from someone by stopping their heart and then resuscitating them. Took three resuscitations for them to realize I would keep doing it until they either talked or died."
"Do you," Tom said as he gave him a suspicious look, "enjoy torturing people? Because while you were explaining that to me, there was no regret or guilt."
He thought about that question as he left the room. "Sometimes it's not enjoyable. Other times...let's just say there are some people I would really love to torture just to watch them squeal."
"Remind me to never get on your bad side."
They turned down another hallway and Jack spotted a familiar looking door. He walked over to it and pushed it open to reveal the dark room. There was a cot against one wall, no windows, and it reeked off sweat. He didn't go in. Stepping away, he walked further down the hall. Tom didn't say anything as he followed.
Pushing open a set of double doors, they entered an operating room that had gallery seating.
"Well, they did use to teach medical students here."
"I believe they called this an operating theater. This is where they operated on my brain to try and manipulate my memories."
Tom flinched at that and shook his head. "This is... It's no wonder you wanted to forget."
Jack saw an old projector in the corner of the room and went over to it. On the table next to it was a film reel. He turned the projector on and attached the film. Across the room on the wall he could see images, scenes, and words flashing.
Tom shut the door and closed the blinds to make the room darker.
As Jack watched the flashing images, read the words and phrases, and felt his body himself drift off, as if falling asleep but suspended in a state between complete darkness and consciousness. It almost felt like an out of body experience, or meditation.
In his head he saw his daughter when she was a child. Eight years old. He was in Maryland. In his house. She was there. Laughing one moment, the next-
He was at the piano when a sudden scream shattered the silence. It came from the study. The door to his study was locked from the inside and his leg throbbed as he kicked the door open to barge his way into the room. His face paled at what he saw.
His child, his daughter, was dead on the floor. A shadow moved behind him and he pulled his gun as he turned and took aim. Gunfire erupted in his ears as he emptied the magazine as the bullets slammed into the shadow man's chest. He watched as the shadow stumbled and fell to the floor in front of him as his own hands grew cold and the gun slipped from his loose fingers.
He jerked up as a gunshot exploded in his head and saw Tom staring at him in confusion and panic.
"Jack?! Are you okay? What-"
"I know what they put in my head," he said as the thoughts, his memories came back to him. "I-It's like a memory but it t isn't. It never- happened but it feels real. They wanted me to believe it was real."
"You're going to have to be more specific."
"They want me to kill Will."
"Okay," Tom said with a nod. "We need to try to figure out a way to prevent that from happening."
"I already did," Jack told her. "They can't brainwash me to do anything I don't want to do-"
"How do you know-"
"Because I prevented my mind from being receptive to the techniques. The amnesia was to help my mind reset. The music, the "on" switch. It sounds more complicated-"
"I'm tracking what you're putting down, Jack. Your mind's your fortress. You used their techniques against them to help you. Now, you need to rearrange your psyche back in normal. I'm assuming that your daughter's name is the trigger word, but it wasn't meant to cause you amnesia."
He looked over at Tom and realized the man actually understood. "Not entirely. I think it was meant for me to forget she ever made it into adulthood. I have a memory that isn't real in my head of her dying. She was murdered when she was a child. Killed by someone I trusted."
Tom was quiet as he thought about that and then said, "Will. So, when you see him again, you would believe that he killed Sydney, making you kill him in retaliation. He would have been a kid himself at that time-"
"That doesn't matter," Jack said. "In the memory I see him as an adult but only because I wanted to. It's a way for me to realize it wasn't real. They would have wanted me to see him as a child."
"Why would Will, even as a kid, be capable of killing your daughter? That should have been reason enough for you to realize it wasn't real."
He rubbed his head as he wished that were true. "Remember our conversation about moral ethics?"
"You mean how you recruited a six year old-" Tom stared at him in disbelief. "Oh...damn. You were talking about Will."
He looked away as he thought of Will and the boy he'd been and the man he was now. "Sloane said I'm always willing to kill someone. He knows how protective I am of Sydney. If he had succeeded-"
"But he didn't," Tom confirmed for him. "You won, Jack. You figured it out. You tricked your mind-"
"I tricked my mind," he repeated Tom's words as he gave that some thought.
He created two people in his head to represent what had been done to him. Em and Kay. They weren't real. He didn't actually take anything from Em in the flat that he'd woken up in days ago because there was nothing to take.
"I didn't actually-They injected me with heroin to get me addicted. They wanted me to crave it. They wanted me to have the needle marks to ruin my reputation if I tried to tell anyone the truth. But, I didn't actually do anything. I was only remembering the program."
"Jack, you're starting to lose me."
"Whenever I get triggered, I'm not going out there trying to get heroin. What happens is I'm reliving the program that they tried to implement in my mind, over again, until I'm able to work through it. Then I'm left with amnesia. That's the cycle."
"How do we break the cycle?"
Jack sighed and shook his head. "I don't know."
"Maybe you should shoot Will. If your mind thinks you've completed the task-" At the look on his face, Tom said, "Or not. Just a thought." His cell phone rang and he stepped away as he pulled it out to he started for the door, he heard Tom say, " "Who is this and how did you-...I'm Tom."
Jack heard the unease in Tom's voice as he stopped and listened to his one sided phone conversation.
"Yes...I don't think you understand how dangerous-" Tom looked over at him as his jaw tightened. He was afraid suddenly. Letting out a breath, he told him, "It's for you."
"Who is it?" he asked as he walked back over and took the phone from Tom. He didn't tell him who it was as he put the phone to his ear and said, "Hello? This is Jack."
Safe House
She lowered the gun as she let out a breath. "Hey," she said as she fought for something to say. She was just relieved that he was alive. That they had been telling the truth. "Ja-" she stopped herself from almost calling him Jack again. It was time she addressed him as who he was to her. Her dad. "Dad, it's me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
He was silent for a moment and she heard Tom say something, but then Jack said, "I'm fine." Then more clearly, as if relieved, said to her, "I'm fine. Where are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm here in London. I'm with Vaughn and Will. We're good."
He went silent again before telling her, "Will will keep you safe. You can trust him."
She looked at Will and saw the worry in his eyes.
Then Jack said the words that finally broke her. "I love you, Sydney. I'll see you soon."
As the relief filled her and the tears threatened to break, she closed her eyes and fought the surge of emotions down. "Love you too. Be safe." He was the first to end the call and she finally flipped the phone shut as she lowered the gun and holstered it.
Will relaxed considerably in the chair as tears also threatened to fall from his eyes. She wanted to cut him loose, to pull him into a big hug and ask for forgiveness. She wanted to do all those things but there was something she needed cleared up first.
Pulling out a pocket knife, she asked Will, "I'm going to ask you some questions and if you answer them to my satisfaction, I'll cut you loose. What do you know about Yekaterina Derevko?"
He looked at her in confusion before saying, "You mean Katya? She got us to help her with a mission back in July. In Minsk. She's the reason I have that file; Jack got it from her as payment."
"Derevko?" Vaughn asked as he looked at her. "Is she related to your mother?"
She nodded, saying, "She's her sister."
"Look, I don't know everything that's going on," Will was saying. "All I know is that the Derevko sisters are all bad-asses and they hate one another. Katya seems to be the only one who doesn't want world domination. She wants to stop her sister-"
"Irina's dead."
"There's another one. Elena. Apparently, she's the worst one. She's in charge of it all. She's even over Sloane. I hate to say it, Syd," Will said, "but your family is full of evil crazy women. Besides you, Jack might be the only other sane person. And that's saying something because your father has his moments."
"What happened in Paris?"
Will shook his head. "We split up in Paris."
"Why? What was in Paris?"
"Nothing! We didn't find anything. We used Paris to draw Sark to our location, so Jack could-"
"How did you find out about Paris?"
Will looked up at her in confusion as he said, "You know something-"
"Answer my question," she told him as she took a step forward with the knife and pointed it at him.
He didn't even glance at the knife as he told her, "A fallout shelter in Germany. Marcus Bernard aka Aldo Desantis took us there and then he blew it all up, killed himself. I took pictures. One of the pictures I had taken there was a code. Leo 27 Norte."
"What is that?"
"SD-6 code," Vaughn said, "for a territorial designation in France. Leo designated the specific assignment. Since Jack was a Senior Case Officer, he would have recognized it immediately."
"Who was assigned that case?" she asked.
"Originally, me," Vaughn told her. "Then Jack reassigned it to Julian Sark. I had obtained a laptop in Qatar. On it was intel about an experimental drug being produced. Something called Atropine ZX, a highly experimental medical stimulant. Its primary use is for battlefield resuscitation of gravely injured soldiers. I was set to follow up on it until…" he trailed off as he looked over at her. "Until Kate Jones happened."
Sydney saw the soft smile on his face as he said that. "You were reassigned to me."
He gave a nod.
"We didn't find anything," Will said again. "We didn't have all the intel. Jack knew he assigned that mission to Sark. That was how we were able to draw him to us. They took Jack and I went to Russia. Now, what do you know about Paris?" he asked her.
She stared down at him and said, "I was on mission in Paris at the same time. I intercepted a drop made by an unknown subject. It wasn't until eight hours ago when Marshall cleared up the surveillance video and saw it that it was you who was the unknown subject. Did Jack know about the drop you made?"
Will gave a nod. "He did."
"What was in the drop?" Vaughn asked.
Will looked at Vaughn but didn't answer. He stared at her as he said, "I'm not-"
"Then explain it to me," Sydney said as she gripped the knife tighter. "If Jack knew about it-" She felt a pain in her neck as she stumbled forward. Her fingers numbed as the knife dropped to the floor.
Turning around, she saw Vaughn drop to the floor before her vision greyed. She hit her knees as she saw Renée holding a tranq gun.
Will thumbed the crown on his watch and pushed it in as he twisted it counter clockwise. He knew the moment he did that a signal was sent. As Renée approached him, she knelt down and grabbed the knife on the floor and then sat right on his lap and pressed the blade to his throat.
Swallowing hard against the blade, he said, "I knew it."
Renée pressed the blade deeper, making a small cut on his neck. "Cut the crap, Will, who else are you working for?"
"Who are you working for?"
"I'm going to guess the Russians."
He grabbed his left thumb with his right hand and waited for the right time as he continued to stare into Renée's eyes. She was so close to his face he really couldn't see anything else. "Yeah, well, me and Russians have a lot of favors going around. We, Jack and I, agreed to do a job in Minsk, they agreed to give us a copy of my Russian file. Then when I needed help to get out of France and into Russia, they agreed. Now, I owe them a favor to get back out. You know how it is. Once you start doing favors, it never stops."
October 2003
Moscow, Russia
Katya stood in the dining room of the safe house not far from Sokolniki Park. He walked in and she turned to face him with a smile. "Jack taught you well."
He dropped his bag on the table and went into the kitchen where he smelt fresh coffee. After he poured himself a cup, he sat down at the table and asked, "Mikhail?"
"She didn't touch him. Don't worry about Mikhail, I'll take care of him."
"I could."
The SVR Colonel regarded him a moment before she said, "I know you could, but we take care of our own. You are no longer one of us."
He took a drink of the coffee as he thought about that. She was right. He was no longer one of them. He was no longer a reporter. He was no longer a US citizen. He honestly had no idea who he was anymore other than a man who loved another man and would follow him to the end of the world and back. His only purpose in life at the moment was to get to Jack. He was all he cared about.
But what would it matter if he got Jack back only to lose the world to a madman?
He opened the bag and pulled out the biometrically locked container and the files and handed them over to her. She took both and placed the container on the table and flipped through the files. "This is the weapon that Sloane used to develop his arsenal."
He gave a nod as he told her, "I have one." She looked at him as she sat the file on the table. "We confiscated one in Morocco. It's in a safe place."
Katya walked around the table as she picked up the container and said, "Now that we have this substance we can see if our counteragent is effective against it. It would be nice to be able to test it in the field."
He took another drink of the coffee as he thought about that. "You want the missile? I need a favor."
She sat on the edge of the table and asked, "Name your price, Mr. Tippin."
He looked over at her as he told her, "I'm going to need help. I want my friends Ivan Petrov and Svetlana "Amy" Matveeva to assist me. And, I want my boat."
Present Time
"What about you," he asked.
Renée shrugged. "Prophet Five killed my father, I spent years tracking them down. Then, I find out that my father is really alive. Faked his death. I agree to work for them. Become their asset. Then, because of you, I find out my father is not really my father. I vow vengeance again."
"That's tough," he said as he looked around her face to see Sydney and Vaughn unconscious on the floor. "Why'd you have to tranq them?"
"I wanted privacy." Renée finally moved the blade away. "I don't trust many people. I trust Michael. I don't trust Sydney. And Michael loves Sydney."
Will looked toward the front door and asked, "Are they on their way?"
"Yes." She leaned into him and said, "They will take you and they will take Sydney. They cannot take Vaughn. I won't be able to interfere, but you can. Whatever you have to do to stop them from taking him, you must do."
"Why?"
Renée looked at him as if disappointed. "Prophet Five needs all five of us. You, Sydney, me, and Michael."
"That's only four."
"I haven't figured out the fifth. You read his father's journals?" When he gave a nod, she said, "Then you know what his father wrote."
"I do. You should know that Michael suspects he's the Horizon."
Renée leaned in and spoke right into his ear as she told him, "He is the Horizon. He is the key, and he must be protected at all costs."
"I promised Jack that I would protect his daughter-"
"You can't protect them both. Michael is the priority."
"Who are you?" he asked as she stood and walked away. He had a feeling time was running out.
Renée looked down at him as she dropped the knife and told him, "I'm the Raven."
He stared at her as he took all that in. The Prometheus, the Phoenix, the Raven, and the Horizon. Who was the fifth, he asked himself. It was about children. He was an orphan child but Project Christmas's golden boy. Sydney was the child of Jack and Irina. Renée was Luc Goursand's child. Michael was a Micheux. That left who? Sloane's child? Sloane and Irina had a child together, a girl named Nadia. Was she the fifth?
"Cut me loose."
"I can't," she told him as she looked toward the door. "You only have a few minutes to get yourself out-"
Will stared up at her and then, he broke his thumb. "Motherfuahhh!" he pulled his hand through the flexi-cuff and dove to the floor to grab Sydney's gun.
The front door busted open and a flash grenade was thrown into the room and exploded. He jumped behind the couch as a concussion grenade was tossed over and he barely had time to move before it went off. He stumbled into the wall and saw a team, four to five people in black gear and masks-it was hazy-charge inside. Renée was on the floor along with Sydney and Vaughn.
As they went to grab Vaughn up, Will took aim and fired. He shot as many rounds as he could, some hit the people trying to take Vaughn while some hit Vaughn. The man who'd been pulling Vaughn up dropped him as they turned toward him. Will slumped against the wall as he let the gun drop from his hand. He closed his eyes as he forced his body to go slack as if falling unconscious.
He felt his body being yanked to his feet and then tossed over someone's shoulder. He didn't open his eyes again until he was inside of a van and they were moving. Through his foggy head, he spotted Sydney and Renée. No Vaughn. Of course they left him.
They thought he was dead.
But he knew Vaughn's secret. He knew that bullets couldn't kill the Horizon.
Blinking around the interior of the van, he saw only two guards. He didn't need to save himself, or Renée, his only priority now was Sydney. They were driving through the streets of London; starting and stopping as the van braked for lights and slowed to turn at corners. As he felt the van accelerated, he rolled his body in between the two guards and waited until one of them reached down toward him.
Then, he attacked.
OMNIFAM Former Headquarters
Tom was watching him closely as he handed the phone back to him. "Are you okay?"
Jack felt as if a vile had been lifted and he could see everything clearer. He remembered everything. He remembered what Sloane wanted to happen, and he remembered what he had done to his mind instead. "Sloane wanted Sydney to be who killed me...I used her to be what saved me. Hearing her voice set everything right."
"You're saying you're good? You're back?"
He looked around the operation theater and shook his head and the memories that invaded his head. "Prophet Five isn't here anymore, we need to-"
"I don't know. I seem to be pretty much "here"."
Jack turned and saw Julian Sark standing in the doorway, along with a few others, and all with guns pointed at him and Tom.
"Put the phone away," Sark told Tom as he walked into the room.
Tom did as he was told and dropped the phone. "Where's Rachel?"
Julian Sark ignored the question as he turned to him and smiled. "A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Bristow."
Jack looked behind him at the others and said, "Tom asked you a question."
"She's alive," was all Sark said as he pointed at him. "Took a trip down memory lane, I see. Remember anything interesting?"
He didn't say anything as he looked around Sark at the other people holding guns. They were outnumbered two to one without including Sark, with no cover. Jack knew they would be taken if Rachel wasn't somehow calling in reinforcements.
Sark smiled at him as he stepped away. "You know what I think is interesting, Mr. Bristow, why you never asked me how I recovered so quickly. You broke my bones. Yet, no long term physical therapy."
"Forgive me if I don't care about your recuperating process."
"You should," Sark told him as he pulled out a tranq gun. "The mission I had in Paris. Leo 27 Norte. Atropine ZX is what brought me back, but it was the infusion of that drug with what Prophet Five has been working that truly was the miracle of science. It's only a temporary cure. Once we get the Horizon, it will be permanent. And without realizing it, it's what you've been searching for."
"I haven't been searching for a miracle drug. I've been searching for Sloane. The truth to what he is doing, so I can stop it."
"You want to stop the cure to everything? The cure to pain and suffering? To diseases and death?"
He stared at Sark as he told him, "If Arvin Sloane is offering that cure...Absolutely."
~"Hello again, Jack-"~
Jack heard an unfamiliar woman's voice in his ear as he continued to stare at Sark.
~"I'm not sure if you recognize my voice but this is Amy. Will's uh, sister. We met in L.A. Anyway, listen, they blocked your friend's Rachel's comms. You're in trouble."~
Little too late, he thought as Julian Sark seemed disappointed in him as he tapped the tranq gun against his leg.
"He's right," he heard Sark say, "You are limited."
~"If you can stall, Rachel is one her way as backup."~
Jack glanced over at Tom but had no way to let him know what was going on; so, he focused on Sark as he said, "Sloane only wants to cure the world only after he destroys it. He wants to play God. No one gets to play God, Sark. You're okay with millions to billions of people dying?"
Sark looked away, and Jack saw that there was obvious conflict in his eyes. "I don't want to lose, might as well be on the winning team."
"This isn't winning. It's genocide. We all lose."
~"Uh, okay, duck or something!"~ Amy said into his ear.
Jack stepped backwards until the desk that had been behind him and to the left was in his peripheral vision. "Tom...duck!"
Sark, confused, went to raise the gun as gunfire erupted from the hallway.
Jack ducked and staggered toward a desk to hide behind it as the people behind Sark dropped to the floor. Tom had also jumped away and he rolled on the floor in the opposite direction, getting behind the projector. Sark turned and fired a few times out of panicked desperation as he was hit. He watched as Julian Sark was riddled with bullets before dropping to a pool of blood on the floor.
A moment later, he stood up and saw Rachel walking into the room with a rifle over her shoulder. "Sorry I couldn't warn you. They blocked my comms."
He pointed to his ear and said, "Someone else was watching. She told me you were coming."
Rachel asked as she handed him the rifle, "Who?"
All Jack could think about was Will and how he must have been successful in his mission to Russia if Amy, his sister-not-sister, was helping them out. "A friend of Will's."
En-route to Undisclosed Location
"Sydney! Sydney, wake up!"
She felt the floor under her move as she blinked her eyes open and coughed at the restriction in her chest. It felt full of smoke and it hurt. Will was staring down at her as he helped her to sit up. "Wha-"
"They found us. Listen to me, you need to get out-"
Looking around, she didn't see Vaughn. "Where is he? Where's Vaughn?"
"-of here. Vaughn will be fine-"
"How'd you know that?!" she yelled at him as she grabbed a seat that was bolted to the floor of the van and pulled herself up. There were two guards on the floor, both unconscious.
"Here," he grabbed a gun off one of them and handed it to her. "When we stop or slow for a turn, get out."
She looked at him as he sat down on the opposite bench and asked, "What about you?"
Will shook his head, telling her, "That's not the plan."
"What's the plan, Will? Did you do-"
"I didn't do this," he shouted back at her before looking at Renée who was still on the floor. "They'll think you did this and got away. I'll be fine."
She looked at the two guards again and realized that they weren't just unconscious. "They're dead. You killed them."
He looked over at her as she stared back at him. Who was this Will Tippin? Vaughn's words came back to her and she realized that she really didn't know who he was anymore. An assassin? A sleeper agent for the CIA? Jack's partner?
She felt the van slow and eyed the door before looking back at Will. They looked at one another for a moment before she grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. It didn't matter what else he was because what mattered was that he was and always would be her friend.
"If Jack asks, tell him I keep my promises," he told her before pulling away.
Taking a breath, she put the gun in her waistband and pushed the door open. She jumped out and turned, closing the door behind her before the van took a right turn. Hearing a car honk, she turned and spotted the car coming up behind her and moved out of the way as it drove past.
She watched as the van disappeared down the street and looked around. She had to get back to the safe house. It only took her twenty minutes to get back to the building that housed the CIA safe house but it had been enough time for it to be cleared out.
She saw blood on the floor among the damage caused by the flash bangs. She went to pull out her phone to call Dixon when the front door busted open. Pulling the gun, she turned and aimed as a man charged in with a gun drawn and right behind him she saw Jack.
Lowering the gun so not to shoot the man she suspected was Tom, she walked by him and right into his arms. Jack stilled for a brief moment before she felt his arms around her back.
"I'm glad you're okay."
"He told me to tell you that he kept his promise," she told him as she felt him release a deep breath into her shoulder. "They have him. He had a chance to get away but didn't. He let them take him."
Jack gave a nod and pulled away slightly. He moved her hand out of her face and she saw the concern on his face briefly before it was gone. If there was one thing that was the most sinister about her father, it was the fact that he could detach himself so completely from his emotions it was like he didn't have any at all. That detachment made him excel at his job, but she thought it made him a terrible father.
"Will choosing to stay means that he has a plan. We should trust it."
She gave a nod and moved away. "Vaughn is gone. I don't know where he is."
"Vaughn's fine," Jack told her as he surveyed the room before heading down the hallway. He came empty handed and shook his head. "Nothing. We need to leave."
"How'd you know Vaughn is fine," she asked as she stared at him.
Jack tapped his ear as he said, "Amy told me."
"Amy? Will's sister?"
"I don't think she's really his sister, but yes, that Amy. And she says we need to go. Right now."
Sydney knew when to move and not ask questions. She followed Tom out and spotted a blond near the staircase acting as a lookout. She must have been Rachel.
They left the building and Jack showed her to a black Mercedes where Tom and Rachel got into the backseat while he opened the front passenger door for her. Jack kept looking around to make sure no one was watching or going to follow them as they drove away.
TBC...
