Never Broken

By cheeky-chaos

Chapter Four:

Los Angeles

I sighed. Home again. I dumped my stuff in the doorway and kicked off my shoes, before doing my customary sweep of my apartment. I sighed again and headed straight for the shower. It had been a long day – after getting back from the mission I had been yelled at by everyone. And all this jet setting was finally making me feel a bit like a yo-yo – not to mention the people and organisations that still seemed to want something from me: the CIA, the NSC, the Covenant, Dixon, my Dad, Vaughn, Bennetti…the list goes on.

Having grabbed a burger on the way home, I didn't bother cooking myself any dinner after I climbed out the shower. Not the healthiest, I know, but I was too tired to care. Instead, I settled down on the couch and opened Isabella Rambaldi's diary warily, unsure as to what I would find. The next few entries after the first were mostly about 15th Century Italian life, so I skipped over them. But the fifth entry caught my eye.

April 21st 1427,

It seems the cold English mercenary does have a soul, for Edward was actually nice to me today. He brought me dinner after that vicious man who calls himself my father banished me to my rooms for disobeying him. He seems to be growing more and more obsessed every day.

The dinner was only cold meat and a little stale bread, but it was a kind gesture I did not know he was capable of. Perhaps I have underestimated him, as one perhaps underestimates the devil. But maybe Edward de L'Archier is a devil I can trust.

Isabella o

I raised my eyebrows at that. I wonder if she ever did trust him – and then just how he betrayed that trust. But all that was forgotten after I spotted the next entry and began to read.

April 26th 1427,

My father's obsession is far worse than I had feared. He revealed the second part of his prophecy to me today, seeming to take great pleasure in watching me cringe. He keeps telling me that I will be born again and that when that happens, I shall fulfill his plans. That cannot be true, for when I die my soul will go to Heaven. But in case there is a woman who will one day share my face, I hope she finds this diary so that she may read of the evil deeds of my father and find a way to stop his terrible plans. I fear I do not have the strength to stop him myself.

To that end, I have recorded as much of the prophecy's second half as I can remember:

…the woman here depicted shall also possess a savior…a tormented soul, his one chance at redemption shall lie in her hands…this woman shall have to make the choice to destroy his soul, for only then will my plans be completed…

The man who is destined to be her savior has Edward's face. I do not know if that means anything, but perhaps the woman who shares my face and the man that shares Edward's face will have a chance to defeat my father's plans if they face him together.

Isabella o

I shut the diary, feeling chilled. There was a second part to Rambaldi's prophecy? And it involved Sark…as my savior? I shivered. There was just something inherently frightening about that.

I wondered if the CIA knew anything about it. I wondered if my mother knew. Making a note to ask Dixon in the morning, I gathered up the diary and headed to my room to get a few hours sleep. I'd have to talk to my father too, see what he could find out about this.

Just as I stuffed the diary under my pillow, I heard a knock at the door. Suddenly tense, I grabbed my gun (which never seemed far from my grasp, even at home) and padded softly to the door. Peering out, I was surprised to see Vaughn standing out in the hall. Hiding my gun slightly behind me, I opened the door a crack.

"What do you want, Vaughn?" I snapped.

"Syd, we need to talk." He told me softly.

Maybe we did, but I didn't want to go into all that right now. "Do you think midnight is really a good time for this?" I asked him, weariness evident in my tone. "Besides, what would your wife think?"

It might have been a low blow to mention his wife, but I had to remind myself of all that had happened. It would be so easy to just throw myself into his arms and pretend everything was okay, even just for a little while. To pretend I still loved him.

"She's out in the car." Vaughn told me.

"Oh." I said, but it wasn't the fact that Lauren knew about this that surprised me so much – it was my thoughts. "You'd better come in then."

Standing back to let Vaughn come in, I wondered if it really was true…I know I had been pretending for a long time that everything was okay, but was it partly true? I had to say yes…I didn't love Vaughn that way anymore, not really. But I still had to let it go. His betrayal had hurt, but I didn't have to hold onto that pain anymore.

They say self-discovery is liberating, and it is in a way. Of course, now I just had to tell all this to the man now seated on my couch and giving me a sad look. Sighing, I sat down and put my gun on the table next to me. Vaughn looked at the weapon in surprise. "Do you really need that?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "You mean after what's happened to me lately? And the whole fact I disappeared for two years?" I asked him.

"Okay." He said, with a smile to try to placate me. "Point taken."

It was really beginning to annoy me that people did that. Was I really so angry and impatient that they felt the need to soothe the raging beast? I would ask someone, but I don't think they'd take it too well. "So?" I asked, looking directly at Vaughn. "You obviously have something on your mind?"

"Well, we haven't really had a chance to talk properly since you got back." He said. "And that's not meant to sound like criticism. I know you've had a lot on your mind."

"Yeah." I said with a slight smile. "That's an understatement."

I guess I'd forgotten that before we fell in love, Vaughn and I had been good friends. He'd been there for me at a time when no one else had. That was something worth keeping. Maybe we could be friends again. It was time to let the past go and stop punishing him and myself for something that had been ultimately out of our control.

"Sydney, I really did love you. But I love Lauren now. She's not you, but she's someone special." Vaughn told me, a slight smile gracing his lips when he spoke of his wife. "I just wanted you to know that. I know it's difficult…"

"I understand, Vaughn." I said, and I really meant it. "And I did love you too."

"But you don't anymore?" Vaughn's expression was a mix of hurt and hope. Hurt to his ego more than anything, though.

"No." I answered. "Not like I did. Doesn't mean we can't be friends though, right?"

Vaughn smiled – the first genuine smile I had seen directed at me in a long time. "I'd like that." He replied.

"Good." I smiled back.

Together, we got up to leave as we all (including Lauren, who was still stuck out in the car) needed some sleep before work tomorrow. I paused at the door. "I'll see you both tomorrow." I told Vaughn. "And next time, tell Lauren she can come inside."

Vaughn smiled sheepishly. "I'll tell her."

"Good night, Vaughn." I said.

"Good night, Syd." He smiled, before walking off down the corridor.

I sighed as I shut the door to my apartment, feeling as if a large weight had been lifted off my chest. "You know, I never managed to stay friends with my ex-wife." Commented a familiar voice from behind me.

I whirled, cursing that I left my gun next to the couch. "Just where do you people think this is? Union Station?" I snarled at Bennetti.

Just like last time, he was leaning up against the wall, his ankles crossed and looking at ease. An amused smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Alright, what do you want?" I snapped, hoping to get this over and done with as soon as I could. "Because, strange as it sounds, I would like to sleep tonight!"

Bennetti pushed himself away from the wall, his expression turning serious. I watched him, looking for an opportunity to go for my gun. "Things have changed, Sydney." He said. "Have you read the diary yet?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Some of it." I said.

"Then you are beginning to understand." Bennetti said. "You must be the one to find the second half of the prophecy, Sydney."

"Well, where is it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bennetti gave me a small smile. "In the Himalayas."

I tensed when the implication of that sunk in. The missing Rambaldi manuscript we had recently found the location of – that was the second half of the prophecy! "You have to be the one to find it, Sydney." Bennetti said again. "No one but you."

I nodded. "I will." I said.

"Good." Bennetti said. "Thank you."

He turned, as if to leave, but I had a question for him before he did. "Why are you helping me?"

He turned back to face me. "I am a direct descendant of Isabella Rambadi. I have no more wish to see her father's depraved prophecy come true than you do."

In a world full of shadows, lies and half-truths like mine is, someone telling you the unvarnished truth is a rare thing. And Bennetti was telling me the truth. I could feel it in my gut. "Thank you." I said.

Bennetti smiled. "Good luck, Sydney."

He disappeared into the kitchen and presumably out whichever escape route he had. I sighed. It had been a long day followed by an even longer night. Time to grab a couple of hours sleep before I had to wake up again – assuming, of course, no one else decided to pay me a visit tonight.

I groaned when the alarm clock went off. It couldn't be morning already! Blinking blurrily at the numbers on the clock face, I groaned again when I saw it was. I slapped the off button on the alarm and slumped back down on my pillow. Maybe if I pretended it was still night, my conscience would let me sleep in a little.

Sadly, not. I growled in annoyance as my alarm went off for a second time and I remembered everything that Bennetti had told me last night. Fine! I was up!

I staggered into the kitchen for a cup of coffee just as my cell rang. Frowning, I wondered what it could be and left the coffee percolating as I staggered back to my bedroom to answer it. "Yes?" I growled in greeting to whoever was on the other end.

"Hello, Sydney." A familiar British accented voice greeted, sounding far to charming for this time in the morning. "Did I wake you?"

I snarled in annoyance at yet another person deciding to complicate my life and slapped my phone shut. Maybe Sark would be so offended that I hung up on him that he'd forget about whatever he was going to tell me. No luck. The phone rang again.

"That was rude, Sydney." Sark told me when I answered for a second time.

"Go to Hell, Sark." I snapped back.

Sark chuckled. "You're really not a morning person, are you?" he commented.

"No." I answered. "And if that's all you called me to say, I'm hanging up again."

"I have a deal for you, Sydney." He said and I could almost hear the smirk. "I have the vial and you have the manuscript's location. Why don't we go after it together?"

"Because I don't work for the Covenant." I said. "You can tell your masters there's no deal."

"How do you know it isn't just from me?" Sark asked.

Now it was my turn to laugh softly. "If it was from you, Sark, you'd be standing in my kitchen as you offered it."

Sark laughed. "I told them you wouldn't go for it, but they wouldn't listen." He said. "Oh, well. I tried. No doubt, I'll see you soon, Sydney."

"You going to get your ass kicked." I told him. "That was a mean trick in Prague."

"I did owe you for Argentina." Sark replied.

"Doesn't matter." I said. "You'll pay."

There was a chuckle and a click as Sark hung up the phone. I put my cell phone down, feeling a little confused. The Covenant was getting bolder if they were calling me to make deals. Or maybe it was desperate. I sighed. Yet another complication I just didn't need or want. I grabbed my coffee and headed for the shower.

By the time I got to work, I was still confused. At least I'd had a couple of cups of coffee by now to wake me up. I ignored the now usual stares as I made my way to my desk. I wanted to talk to Dixon about Rambaldi's prophecy, but decided to do a quick search in the CIA database first. Maybe one of the research sections knew something about it.

As I searched the database, I noticed a bit of a commotion around the door, but thought nothing of it as an entry caught my eye. According to the database, the CIA did know that there was a second half to Rambaldi's prophecy, but as far as they could tell, it had been destroyed in the 18th Century.

I looked up again, as the office around me began to talk in excited whispers. I was just in time to catch Director Kendall walking towards the elevators, with Dad, Lindsay and Dixon beside him, all deep in conversation. That was weird, because according to all reports, Dixon had taken over after Kendall had left for another division.

Something told me this was important, and when I saw the elevator was heading to the roof instead of down, I made a quick decision to follow them. Grabbing my coat, I smiled as Weiss looked over. "I'm just going out to grab another coffee." I said. "Want anything?"

"No, I'm good." Weiss replied.

"Okay." I replied. "See you in about ten minutes."

I headed to the elevators as well, hoping that no one else would be waiting. Luckily, they weren't. I slipped inside and rode up to the roof, the slow ride making my nerves flutter and impatience curl in my gut. Something was happening and my instincts told me it was very important.

As soon as I got to the roof, I snuck down the short corridor to the door that lead out to the helipad. Opening the door, I saw that the men were well over the other side of the roof, so I snuck out the door. Immediately, the wind blew my hair into my face and through my clothes. I zipped my coat shut and headed for the satellite dish on this side of the roof, hoping it would be close enough, yet give me enough cover to eavesdrop.

Crouching in the shadows, I listened to what they were saying. Luckily, I was close enough that the wind didn't snatch the words away. "…do you think she has any idea?" Kendall was asking.

"About the second half of the prophecy?" Dad said. "No. She doesn't know. And I want to keep it that way."

"We all know about your concern for your daughter's safety, Agent Bristow." Lindsay snapped. "But you can't keep her in the dark forever."

"I'll tell her when she's ready." Dad snapped back.

Dixon was the next to speak. "She won't thank you for it. If she found out that we all knew and didn't tell her, I don't think she'd forgive us."

"It doesn't matter." Kendall told him. "We just need to stop her reading that manuscript."

I sagged further into the shadows, shocked by what I had just heard. I was utterly and completely unable to do anything but gape in horrified shock for a long moment, completely paralyzed. And it was probably just as well that I was, because at that moment Vaughn walked out from the corridor from the elevator and headed over to the men. The fact I was hidden in the shadows and completely motionless was probably the only thing that stopped him from seeing me.

"You asked to see me?" he said as he approached.

"Thank you for meeting us, Agent Vaughn." Kendall said. "We need to talk to you about Sydney Bristow."

"What about Sydney?" The only comfort I had was that Vaughn went immediately defensive on my behalf.

"We need you to do something for us." Dad said.

"I'm not doing anything that's going to hurt Sydney." Vaughn said firmly.

"We need you to help us protect her." Dixon said. "There is a second part of Rambaldi's prophecy that she doesn't know about. We need to keep it that way."

"The manuscript." Vaughn said, putting two and two together.

"Yes." Dad told him. "We need you to be the one to find it and bring it back."

"But I thought we couldn't read it until we had the vial?"

Dad shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Sydney doesn't need to know anything except it's another Rambaldi manuscript."

"You're not going to tell her?" Vaughn asked, incredulous.

Dad shot him a sharp glare. "Whether or not I'm going to tell her is none of your business, Agent Vaughn. But, yes I am going to tell her."

That seemed to calm Vaughn. "Okay. I'll help you. But if you don't tell Sydney soon, I will."

The pain of betrayal was so sharp, nothing else compared to it. Not even being shot. I felt tears gathering in my eyes. How could they have done this to me? Have known and not told me? Was I just another of their stupid pawns, to be told only the information I needed to know? Almost immediately, a sense of rage followed the feelings of betrayal and grief. How dare they treat me like this after everything I had sacrificed for them!

Since the men were all still deep in conversation, I took my opportunity to slip back inside and down to my desk. I walked there in a daze, still trying to process what I had just learnt and careful not to cry. "Hey, Syd? You okay?" Weiss looked over at me.

I pasted a bright smile on my face, even though that was the last thing I was feeling right now. But he seemed to believe it. Long years of practice had made it seem real, I suppose. "I forgot my purse!" I told him. "I think I really need that coffee!"

Weiss chuckled. "I think you do too. But why don't you just grab one from the kitchen?"

I shot him a mock glare, still trying to make him think I was the same cheerful Sydney who had walked in this morning – like the whole fabric of my world had not just been ripped apart. "Come on, Weiss. We both know that stuff tastes awful!"

Still smiling my fake smile, I grabbed my purse and headed back to the elevators. My only thought was to get out of there. And then suddenly, I had another. Changing direction, I headed down to Marshall's lab as quickly as I could, knowing the tech was working with someone else this morning and wouldn't be there. As quickly as I could, I grabbed a copy of the coordinates to the missing manuscript. If they weren't going to let me see it, then I'd just have to find it for myself.

I made my way back to the elevators and slipped inside one, just as the other opened and Vaughn, Dad, Dixon, Kendall and Lindsay all walked out. I sighed in relief at having missed them as the elevator headed down to the parking garage, and I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, tears threatening once more.

The doors dinged softly as they opened, and I brushed the tears from my cheeks. I just wanted to get out of here and away from everything.

As I drove home, a reckless and impulsive plan formed in my head. Part of me couldn't believe I was contemplating such a thing, but the other part was wondering why I hadn't done this sooner. By the time I was standing in the middle of my kitchen, I was ready to put my radical plan into action. I wondered if I was truly considering giving up everything I knew. For the past eight years, this job had been my life. Was I truly considering turning my back everything and everyone I knew?

The simple answer: yes. Because, for all those years, I had been a pawn in someone else's game. It was time I stopped – after all, Rambaldi had written a prophecy about me for a reason. It was about time I showed the world just what I was capable of.

Knowing I had to move quickly, before someone realised I was gone and came after me, I walked over to the kitchen and put down my keys. Then I removed my gun and ID, and put them next to my keys, before adding my cell phone and pager. I gave a final glance to the vestiges of what was soon to become my old life, before turning away and heading for my bedroom. Let the CIA think of that as they will.

I quickly changed into jeans and a sweater, and slipped a pair of sunglasses onto my head, after tying my hair into a ponytail. I shoved some cash into my pocket and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway to my apartment, I gave a final glance to the empty rooms and objects, before turning and walking away without a qualm.

As I slipped on my sunglasses against the bright sunshine outside, I realised that this moment was so easy because it had been a long time in coming. There was finally nothing left for me here anymore.

I caught the train into the city centre, careful to melt into the crowd as I journeyed to my safehouse. It was nothing more than a tiny apartment, but it had everything I would need. I had set it up years ago in case I ran into trouble as a double agent. I wasn't sure if my father knew about its location, but it didn't matter. The message I had left back at my apartment was fairly clear.

Grabbing a suitcase, I gathered the clothes and wigs I kept in the apartment, keeping only one set free to change into. Long practice made the process of changing clothes, putting on a wig and redoing my makeup quick and efficient. I added my makeup bag to my suitcase and left my old clothes neatly folded on the bed.

Finally, I walked over to the hidden safe and pulled out two spare guns – both went into the hidden compartment in my suitcase – some money, a new cell phone and a group of passports – all but one going into the hidden compartment too.

I hailed a passing cab outside the apartment and carefully climbed in. "Where to?" the driver grunted at me.

"LAX." I told him, slipping on a new pair of sunglasses and saying a final goodbye to my old life.

Ireland

I rented a car by cash when I got to France and drove to London. From there, I zigzagged my way to Ireland, stopping quite a few times to change clothes and cars. I didn't want anyone to know where I was heading yet because I was sure they knew I had disappeared by now.

Finally, I pulled up about halfway down a dirt road and climbed out of the unremarkable sedan I had rented in Dublin. Grabbing a pair of binoculars, I got out and walked around to sit on the hood of the car. My breath misted in the air. It was a lot colder here than it had been in LA and, as a result, I was dressed in sturdy boots, dark jeans, a cream sweater, a leather jacket and gloves. It also didn't help that it was late autumn and you could feel winter on its way.

Using the binoculars, I stared out at the large house on the cliff in front of me. I had asked around the small village of Clifden, which the house was near, and the man I had come to see was home. Knowing him like I did, I was just here to make sure he was in the country and to scope the place out. After all, Julian Sark was not the type of man you could easily sneak up on.

The house stood large and foreboding on the cliff about a mile or two outside town. The rolling green of the hills surrounding it looked even more vibrant against the dark stone of the house and the grey-blue ocean that extended out beyond the house. I could hear the waves pounding at the bottom of the cliffs and salt was heavy on the air. The golden sun was low in the sky and cast everything in a golden light. There was still an hour or two until sunset however.

As I watched, a sleek black car pulled up the long drive to the house and stopped in front of the door. It was both fast and expensive, so I felt no surprise when Sark climbed, dressed as always in a black suit. He wore a long coat over it in deference to the bite in the air, which billowed slightly as he stalked to the front door. It opened as he approached, to reveal a tall dark haired man. Sark pushed past the man and continued into the house, as the man shut the door. I smiled wryly. It seemed Sark was still unhappy about being at the beck and call of the Covenant. But that was all about to change.

I glanced over the house again, but nothing had changed from the last few times. The house was a fortress, which really shouldn't have surprised me – but it meant that I wasn't going to be able to get in easily without an invite. I probably could if I really had to, but there were easier ways to do this.

Sighing, I slid of the hood and got back into the car and headed back to Galway.

To Be Continued…