Never Broken

By cheeky-chaos

Chapter Seven:

Monte Carlo

"Hello, Jacques." I greeted the man in front of me; my contact. I smirked as I held up the necklace. "Missing something?"

Jacques swore loudly, before holstering his gun and motioning for the others behind me to do the same. "How did you get that?" he snapped.

Then he spotted Martin's dead body on the ground. "Never mind." He said. "What do you want, Julia?"

I gazed at the man in front of me, hoping for some feeling of recognition. He seemed familiar, but sadly, no memories suddenly burst into my head. His black hair was carefully combed and his green eyes glittered with anger and shrewdness. I knew from his file that he was not a man to be crossed; he and Julia had worked well together.

"I heard a rumour." I said. "Thought I could do a favour for a friend."

Jacques gave me a wry look. "You don't just do favours for a friend, Julia." He said.

I shrugged. "I thought you could put in a good word for me." I said. "I left the Covenant rather…abruptly."

Jacques nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "I heard. Why did you leave?"

"I had something personal to take care of." I answered coldly, hoping he would leave it at that.

Jacques raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask anymore questions. "As grateful as I am for your help, it will take more than returning the necklace to get me to speak on your behalf." He glanced up the stairs. "But perhaps now is not the best time to talk about that, no?"

He motioned to his men and they began to climb the stairs, while Jacques carefully returned the necklace to its case and I retrieved my gun. I followed him up the stairs and down the corridor towards the back of the casino. We sprinted for the back exit as alarms began to sound. A guard burst out from the door to our right, just a little in front of me and Jacques fired. The guard ducked back inside the room he had come out of, as Jacques swore in French.

"Let's move this along faster, gentlemen!" he hissed.

We all put on a burst of speed and sprinted down several corridors and a flight of stairs, before bursting out into an underground carpark. Once there, the group split and went separate ways. Jacques grabbed my sleeve to prevent my escape – not that I was going anywhere. "You're coming with me, ma chére." He said in a low voice.

Playing to my role of Julia, I just raised an eyebrow challengingly at him and stood my ground. Wasting no time, Jacques pulled me towards a waiting car. I jumped into the passenger seat of the unremarkable sedan as he jumped into the driver's seat and we roared off.

About an hour later, Jacques parked the car near the National Museum, an elaborate and beautiful old building that looked stunning in the moonlight. We had driven around for a long time, making sure we weren't followed and until Jacques felt comfortable about whatever he was going to say. I had just sat there, unobtrusively watching him and hoping I could pull this off. Everything depended on it.

"You've been gone for three months, Julia." Jacques said, getting straight to the point. "How do I know I can still trust you?"

"You don't." I replied, turning to face him. "In our lives, Jacques, you can't trust anyone. Not really. All you can trust is their motivation – and I tell you now, the only goal I have at the moment is to get back the Covenant's trust."

"Which is why you want me to vouch for you." Jacques said. "But where did you go? They trusted you until you left. In fact, they trusted you then more than they trust me now."

"My reasons are my own." I said coldly. I didn't need Jacques pushing the issue, because I had no answer. "Will you help me or not?"

Jacques looked at me, his expression considering. "I'm thinking about it. Thanks to you, I'm a man down. I think that means you owe me."

I snorted. "You would have been a man down whether I was there tonight or not." I said. "Thanks to me, you're not a necklace down as well."

Frowning, Jacques narrowed his eyes. "Be at the Cathedral at 8pm tomorrow. Help me with my next heist and I'll think about vouching for you. If you're not there, consider my offer withdrawn."

I nodded shortly and climbed out of the car. "I'll be there." I told him.

Jacques nodded once, before driving off. I let out a sigh as I stood in the warm evening and began the long walk back to my hotel. As I did, my cell rang. "Hello?" I asked cautiously when I answered it.

A familiar voice answered and I couldn't help but smile. "I take it everything is going well?" Sark's voice enquired.

"I'm meeting with Jacques tomorrow." I said.

"Good." He said. "I'll speak to you again in three days. Good luck."

"You too." I replied and hung up.

It wasn't much, but somehow my short conversation with Sark made me feel better. With a smile, I headed back to my hotel room to catch a little sleep. Hopefully, in three days Sark and I would know who the head of the Covenant was and we could take them down. And maybe then I'd find a few answers about my missing two years – and that damned prophecy would be destroyed.

The warm breeze and scent of the sea drifted in through my open window as I sat on the comfortable couch, my gun close at hand. Once I had gotten back, I had showered and changed and know lounged around in jeans and a sweater, my dyed-blonde hair in a ponytail. I was too restless to sleep, something that usually happened when I was in the middle of a mission, so I had decided to read a few more entires of Isabella's diary instead. I was hoping I could gain some more clues about the prophecy.

May 3rd 1427,

My father is growing crazier every day. I am beginning to fear that I will not outlive his wrath next time. Edward is slowly proving himself to be a man that I can trust. At least, it is my fervent hope that I can, for if I can't, after today he will have all he needs to destroy me.

I have trusted him with my secrets now. No longer do I have to bear the dark burden alone and I think Edward fears what my father is capable of as much as I do. It warms my heart to finally have a friend amongst the shadows that inhabit my life, but I am scared it will not last. Nothing good ever has. Whether it will be Edward who betrays me, or Edward who pays the price, I do not know. I only know that whatever we share, it will only be short. It is the way of life.

Isabella O

I shivered, once again surprised by how close the thoughts and feelings of Isabella Rambaldi mirrored my own. I knew a life that was full of betrayal and unseen enemies, just as she had. And I was trusting Sark with my secrets as she had trusted Edward. I hoped he had not betrayed her, but who knew? I could not question Edward's motives without questioning Sark's – and to finish my mission I just had to trust him. I took heart in the fact that if Sark had wanted to betray me, he could have done so before now. Sighing, I kept reading, wondering what would happen next.

June 15th 1427,

It has been such a long time since I have had the opportunity to share my thoughts, even if I do not know if anyone will ever read them. I hope the woman destined to share my face does, in the end. I do not know why, but the thought she may someday read what I have suffered through gives me comfort. And hope.

My father announced today that I am to marry his friend, Renato il Giovane, a rich nobleman, but I have no wish to be the second wife of such a cruel tormentor. His first wife is said to have died when she was thrown out of a window, but no one can prove it. I can only hope that the God in Heaven will protect me, because no one else will.

Isabella O

Again, I shivered as the words in the diary sent a chill down my spine. This time, however, it was more than the similarity of our lives that had caused it, but the ominous sound of her words. They were not the words of a woman who expected to live a long happy life. My heart ached for the poor innocent woman who had been so caught up in the nightmare her father had created, knowing that she had felt something similar to me and yet had had no one to trust. Unlike me, she didn't have a Jack Bristow to protect her at all costs. Or a Michael Vaughn to be her friend through all the shadows. Or even a Francie or a Will to come home to

It was sad, and it made me glad that even though my life had destroyed most of the people I cared about, I had known was it was like to feel normal, just for a little while. And it definitely made me glad that I had the power to change what was happening to me, even as it strengthened my determination to end Rambaldi's prophecy once and for all. I felt a connection to Isabella now and some part of me wanted to give her justice and finish what she had started all those years ago.

I tossed and turned in a fitful sleep, feeling somewhat alien and alone. "Isabella?" a soft voice with a lilting accent called out, just as a hand reached out and gently touched my shoulder. "Isabella?"

Grimacing, I blinked into wakefulness, finding myself in a richly decorated room and lying on a large four-poster bed. The sheets and skirt of my nightdress were tangled about my legs and the corset made my chest feel constricted as I gasped for air. Turning towards the voice, I noticed it was Edward, his face so eerily like Sark's, part of my mind shivered. He was dressed in black clothes and carried several knives that I could see and probably many more I didn't.

"Edward?" I asked blearily, confused as to what he was doing in my room.

He put a hand gently over my mouth and shook his head, trying to get me to stay quiet. "He's coming…" he began, but at that moment the door to my rooms slammed open and someone stalked into the little sitting room just beyond my bedroom door.

Edward sent me a helpless look, as if wanting to stay but knowing it would cause me even more pain if he was discovered here. Slipping backwards, he sank into the shadows and I lost sight of him. "Isabella!" a voice roared.

Gripped with fear, I scrambled out of bed and threw on a robe, just as my bedroom door slammed open and my father was framed in the doorway. I gasped when I saw his face…the face belonged to Arvin Sloane!

"Come here, you spiteful bitch!" he roared, both angry and drunk.

"Father… what is wrong?" I asked softly, the words leaving my mouth as if spoken by someone else. I knew this was because part of my mind remained Sydney, that this was Isabella's memory and I was just watching it through her eyes…but so much of me wanted to lash out, to climb through the window and escape…

"You think you can defy my will?!" Milo roared again, so far gone in his rage and drink that he verged on a sort of madness. "You will do as I say or you will not live to see the dawn!"

Instantly, I dropped to my knees, my head bowed. "Of course, father." I said meekly. "I obey your will."

Milo glared contemptuously at me, before reaching down and yanking me up by my hair. "Do not lie to me, girl!" he growled. "You defy me at every turn!"

Suddenly, his hand snapped out and hit me across the face so hard I saw stars. The taste of blood burst into my mouth and pain immediately began to throb over half my face. I dropped to the floor like a sack of flour when he let go of my hair, and immediately felt a sharp kick to the ribs. Pain blossomed like fire and I curled up, trying to make myself as small as possible. Milo kicked me again, and then, with a final glare, turned and swept back out of the room, his last words hanging ominously in the air.

"Defy me once more and it will be the last thing you do."

I remained curled on the floor, fighting nausea and wept softly. I had forgotten Edward had remained in the shadows and had seen what my father had done, at least until I felt a gentle hand stroke my face and brush away the tears. I glanced up at him, ashamed at what he had witnessed and not wanting his pity. But there was no pity in his eyes, only a rage so primal that I winced away from it. His other hand was gripping the hilt of a knife so tightly, his knuckles were white. "Just say the word, Isabella." He said. "And that monster will die."

It was in that moment that I realised the anger, the rage in his eyes, was not directed at me, but at my father instead. And at that moment, something inside my unfurled. I had shared my secrets with this man of shadows, the man I had believed was yet another enemy I had to face and he had gifted me with something precious in return – his loyalty and his caring. He cared about me! Enough to go against one of the most powerful men in the city, the man who had employed him, just for a slip of a girl he barely knew. Tears began to fall again, but these ones were for joy, not pain.

"Isabella?" he asked, anguish in his voice. "I am sorry…"

I reached up with a hand to cover his own, still gently caressing my face. "No one has ever done that before." I whispered, the awe still evident in my voice.

"Done what?" Edward asked, confused.

"Offered to stand up to my demon before." I gave him a watery smile. "You do not even know me, and yet if I asked you, you would go against him."

"I would kill him." There was something resolved and immovable about the way he said that, as if there was no possibility he would fail. "And I do know you. I see you, your courage, your strength, your will to live. It's breathtaking and humbling."

Tears slipt down my face again, as I stared up in wonder at a man that I was only beginning to see. "Now, will you let my have a look at your ribs?"

I nodded mutely as he gently picked me up and laid me down on the bed. I turned my face to the side, suddenly embarrassed as he peeled away the robe and the nightdress, revealing my corset and undergarments. I had never let a man do this before and my face flushed red. "Ah…" Edward said, confronted by my corset.

I glanced back at him from under my lashes and found to my surprise, he was blushing just as red as I was. "I…I've never done this with a woman before…" he embarrassment was almost as breathtaking as his defence of me, and as innocent as I seemed, I understood he meant checking my bruises – I had no doubt this was not the first corset he had unlaced.

With a shy smile, I turned slightly so he could access the laces at the back of my corset. "It's okay." I said. "I trust you."

"I don't know why you would." I heard him mutter, even as his nimble fingers started undoing the laces of my corset. "I'm not a nice man, Isabella."

"Perhaps not." I answered. "But you are the one I trust."

Soon the corset was loose and I slipped it off, grateful for once that my nursemaid insisted I wear something underneath it. It was only a thin scrap of material, but it was better that nothing to my innocent sensibilities. All the same, I noticed the heat in Edward's eyes as he gazed at me, his eyes turning from ice into molten blue pools, the colour of the stormy sea. His hands were gently, lifting back only as much of the cloth as was needed to see my ribs and he swore violently when he saw the dark colour already beginning to spread across the pale skin.

The cursing made my blush, but the gentle caresses Edward drifted over my skin soon made me heat for a different reason. I had never let a man this close before, nor had I wanted to. Edward was different, and the difference went well beyond his defence of me or his tenderness. It was the man himself. His fingers were feather light as the bound my ribs with cloth, easing the pain slightly, yet I somehow felt naked beneath his gaze. I shivered.

When he was done he looked at me and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Try to sleep. I will be back soon."

"Where are you going?" I asked, suddenly fearful he would leave.

"To find some food. You do not eat enough." He replied, before slipping back into the shadows as my eyes drifted closed.

I surged upright in bed, my breath pounding, halfway between terrified and aroused. I wasn't sure whether I should be angry or freaked out that it had been Isabella's memory and Sark's face that had put me in such a state. I ran a hand over my face and glanced at the clock, deciding denial was probably the best way to deal with it just now.

Not even considering the revelation that Arvin Sloane was Milo Rambaldi – just as much as I was Isabella.

I hoped like hell that it wasn't the cause of all those comments about how I was the daughter he never had. The possibility made me shiver with pure terror. That a man so twisted and evil could have wormed his way into my life at such a young age and stayed there – up until my discovery of what SD-6 really did. It was strange to think that if I hadn't found out what Sloane was really like, at such a cost, I might have been so twisted into the mess that is Rambaldi, it might have already been too late for me.

Grimacing at the bright morning sunshine that seemed the complete opposite of my current mood, I wondered what I was going to do for the rest of the day. I didn't have to meet Jacques until 8pm, so there were a good few hours to kill yet. Sighing, I knew my mind would never settle after my disturbing dream, so I got up.

After a long hot shower and a late breakfast, I stood next to my window, slightly hidden by the curtains and stared out at the bustle beneath me. Monte Carlo was gorgeous and if it had been any other mission, I might have been tempted to go outside and explore the vibrant city. But somehow I felt too vulnerable just now. I'm not quite sure what the reason was, although I suspected it was probably the verification that Sloane was evil and behind my two missing years. Still, the tenderness Edward had displayed towards Isabella had disturbed me as well.

I sat brooding and thinking in the hotel room until the sun began to set, but came up with no more answers than I had had in the beginning. The phone ran next to me and I picked it up numbly, without even thinking.

"Bad dream?" a familiar voice smirked.

How it was that he always managed to know just when I was hitting rock bottom emotionally, I doubt I will ever know. But he was always there – needling me and making me so mad I wanted to hit him. That was probably the idea. "What makes you ask that?" I said.

"Because I did." He said bluntly and I suddenly sat up straight on the couch.

"You had a dream?" I asked.

Sark paused slightly on the other end, as if trying to put everything into words. "It was a memory of Edward's. I saw the face of Milo Rambaldi…and it was Arvin Sloane's."

I knew without a doubt at his words that he had the same dream I had. Just the words made me shiver. "I had the same one." I replied. "It doesn't really change anything, though."

"It doesn't?" Sark echoed.

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "I was pretty certain Sloane was behind my disappearance anyway." I answered.

Sark chuckled softly at the certainty in his tone. "I must admit, I know what Sloane is capable of, but I wasn't entirely convinced he was behind your disappearance. We still don't know who the leader of the Covenant is."

My mind shied away from the implications of his sentence – both his involvement with Sloane in the past, which I would probably have to deal with later, and the fact that Sloane might not be the only enemy I faced just now.

I sighed. "Life is never easy, is it?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

Sark chuckled again. "No. If it was, I'd find it terribly boring." He answered.

I was still smiling when he hung up. Yet another thing in my life that I would have to square with soon was Sark's ability to make me smile when I felt like crying. Strange, Vaughn had never done that. He'd been a comfort, for sure, but never made me smile. I felt a small ache when I thought of Vaughn, because it reminded me of yet another betrayal by the ones I loved. Determination filled me at the thought, giving me the strength to see me through this mission and make sure that no one would use me again.

I took care when I dressed for the meeting with Jacques. I knew there was a good chance that I would go straight from the meeting to wherever the heist was taking place. So, black was the colour of choice. I dressed in black jeans and a sweater, with a leather jacket over the top. I left my hair loose and added black eyeliner, like I had on the long ago day I had met Sark in Galway.

As ready as I would ever be, I packed up my hotel room and left, heading towards the Cathedral through the cool night. I slipped into the Cathedral and headed towards the altar, which was covered in candles. As I did so, I spotted Jacques waiting on one of the pews.

"Julia." He greeted levelly. "Ready to go?"

I nodded. "That's why I'm here."

Jacques smiled slightly, before we headed back out of the Cathedral and off to do our dishonest work.

Marseilles

We arrived in Marseilles, France, after a three hour drive. It had been a little uncomfortable, not because I didn't like travelling (since I never got to see much of the country-side on missions, it was actually quite fun), but because Jacques' men kept giving me wary, if not outright hostile looks. I returned them all with a level stare, but it was a relief to get out the van all the same.

The plan was actually quite simple. The Watchglass was undergoing a restoration process, so the security on it was less than usual. It was being stored in the vault of a reasonably large industrial facility. Jacques, characteristically, had planned everything very well. He knew the rotations of the guard and the password required to bypass the security system, so getting in was quite easy, even for so many of us. But as experience had taught me, it's getting out where the skill comes in.

One of Jacques men broke off to head to the control room to keep the cameras busy, while the rest of us headed down to the vault. Jacques had given me a silenced automatic on the way in, carefully unmarked and untraceable, and I held it in my gloved hands. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to use it. "Go." Jacques snapped when we got to the vault, motioning towards the door to the room with his gun.

The men snapped instantly into action. Surging through the door, they shot the two men inside the room, while Jacques and I followed. He shot me a curious glance. "Not having fun, Julia?" he asked.

I shrugged, trying to look bored. "You call this fun?" I replied.

Jacques shrugged. "You used to think so."

I might not remember the last two years of my life, but I knew that wasn't true. "No, Jacques." I replied with a smirk. "Fun involves a lot more challenge than this."

Jacques let out a short bark of laughter. "You know." He said. "I think I missed you."

As we had been talking, the men had started cracking the safe, so I turned back to face the door. My role in this heist was a lot simpler than I was used to – I was just another hired gun. In other words, if everything went to shit, I would come in handy, but until then there was really nothing for me to do.

Jacques and his men were done in minutes. I have to admit, there skill was quite impressive, but then I doubted the Covenant would employ anyone but the best when it came to retrieving one of there beloved Rambaldi artefacts. It was a surreal experience, I decided when we walked out the building about ten minutes after we had entered it, to actually have something go according to plan. I wasn't used to it, and it made me nervous. I kept expecting an alarm to sound or someone to yell out a discovery. But nothing happened.

"Thankfully, we didn't need your expertise, no?" Jacques asked, as he turned to grin at me from the front seat of the van as we all climbed in.

I shrugged. "Boring, though." I answered as we roared off into the night, playing to the role of Julia.

We headed back to one of Jacques' many safe-houses, this one on the outskirts of the city, to await the Covenant's representative…which I knew would be Sark. I would have to make sure I didn't give away the fact that I already knew him, as Julia Thorne had never met Mr. Sark. And I don't think either of us was quite willing to let onto the fact that we were working with each other just yet.

The house was elegant, but simple. There were at least four bedrooms, several bathrooms and a large pool out the back. Restless, both due to the fact that I knew I was hours away from learning who was responsible for my disappearance and because I was still edgy from the heist, I paced in one of the smaller sitting rooms, away from prying eyes. I would have to calm down soon and go back out to mingle with the others, but right now, I just wanted it over.

With a deep breath, I attempted to calm my nerves yet again. I'd shrugged out of my leather jacket and now just wore the jeans and the light sweater. Even so, I felt like I was sweating. It was a sign of nerves, I knew, but I was too wound up to fix it. Finally, I steeled myself and headed back to the kitchen, where the others were having an impromptu dinner.

I arrived just in time, because at that moment, Jacques entered through the other door, Sark in tow. They were discussing something, but stopped when the walked through the door and saw me. "Ah, Julia." Jacques greeted warmly. "I don't believe you've met the Covenant's new operative. Mr. Sark."

I hid a smile and nodded towards Sark. "Mr. Sark." I greeted levelly.

"Miss Thorne." Sark greeted back, his face impassive, but there was a slight twinkle in his eye that I don't think anyone noticed but me. Mr. Sark was clearly amused. "It's a pleasure to meet you finally."

Jacques glanced at Sark. "Pierre, bring the item!" he called out to one of his men.

Pierre brought over a case that I knew contained the Watchglass, as Sark hefted a briefcase in return – I assumed it was full of money. But before the transaction could be completed, Sark's cell rang. A look of annoyance crossed his face quickly, but it was gone just as fast. "Excuse me a moment." He said.

Sark drifted away until he was just out of earshot, and Jacques shot me a glance. I shrugged. I didn't know what was going on. The conversation between Sark and the caller was short and I could see the sudden tension in Sark. He didn't get angry or raise his voice, but I knew whatever had just happened was bad. He snapped the phone shut, before turning and giving me a grave look.

Uh oh. My gut twisted. Things were about to go to shit, I could feel it.

Sark's blue eyes burned into mine. There seemed to be a dark anger in them, along with a sense of vibrant urgency. Even though I knew something was about to happen, his words still came as a shock to me. As did the abrupt way he whipped out his gun and pointed it straight at Jacques.

"It's time to go, Sydney." He said. "Take the Watchglass."

Woah. This hadn't been in the plan!

I felt my hand stray towards the gun in the waistband of my jeans and I kept a watchful eye on Pierre and the others. Walking over to Jacques, I reached out to take the case containing the Watchglass from him. It was strange to find him staring at me with a kind of betrayal in his eyes. "Sydney?" he echoed.

Nodding, I gave him a look of apology, although I'm not entirely sure why. "My name isn't Julia. Or at least it wasn't until the Covenant tried to brainwash me."

"So, you don't want to rejoin the Covenant." Jacques guessed. "You want to destroy them."

I didn't answer, but I didn't think I had to. Before anything more could be said, Pierre drew a gun and everyone began firing at each other. Sark managed to shoot Jacques in the shoulder before he was forced to dive for cover, which was just as well, because it threw off his aim at me. The bullet whizzed past my arm as I threw myself behind the kitchen counter and all feelings of goodwill or apology I had towards Jacques vanished. I don't like people shooting at me!

My gun was in my hand before I consciously thought about it, and I let off a few shots before a body sank down beside me. I whirled, heart pounding, but it was only Sark. He flashed me his characteristic smirk, before firing a few shots of his own, bullets from Jacques and his gang thumping into the other side of the counter all the while. "I do believe this is the first time your gun isn't actually pointed at me, Sydney." He said.

I glared at him in return. "Keep that up and you might get it in your direction!" I muttered.

He chuckled softly, before we both returned fire again. We needed to get out of here. The men on the other side were rapidly attempting to ring our position and it was only a matter of time before one of them got a better shot. Or we ran out of bullets. Whichever came first.

"You know, I prefer you as a brunette." Sark commented, completely startling me.

"I don't think this is the best time to discuss hair colour preference, Sark." I replied.

"Oh, Sydney. Most of our best conversations have taken place when guns were involved." He smirked.

I had to admit he had a point and smiled slightly in response, even as I turned away to shoot Jacques, who despite being shot in the shoulder was trying damn hard to kill me. Man, I hated it when people did that! Maybe I was in the wrong profession.

"Any ideas?" I snapped at Sark.

"I always have ideas." There was that damned smirk again. "But if you're referring to a way out, the door behind us seems like a good option."

I knew we were both professional and seasoned operatives and this was not our first shootout – and I knew that Sark was fond of bantering with me when we had our guns trained on each other – but I'd never realised how annoying his calm could be when I was stressing out. It was reassuring too (if Sark ever panicked, it was time to kiss your ass goodbye), but did he have to smirk too?

"Did you think that one up all by yourself?" I snapped.

Sark shot me an irritated glare. Oh, so Mister Icy-calm-when-being-shot-at wasn't as calm as he wanted to make out. Somehow, the reminder that Sark was actually human, despite all evidence to the contrary, reassured me more than the calm had. With a shared nod, I jumped up and sprinted out the door behind us as Sark distracted them with a couple of well placed shots. I returned the favour from the doorway as he joined me.

"This way." He said, already disappearing down a corridor.

I let out a sigh of exacerbation, but followed anyway. How was it that Sark had been in the house about two minutes and still had an escape route mapped out?

"So how come the plans changed?" I asked softly as we crept through the house towards the back…and hopefully a waiting car.

"The Covenant were making plans to kidnap you again. I didn't find out exactly why, but it has something to do with the Watchglass. It leads to something and the Covenant want it."

Sark's explanation chilled me to the bone. The Covenant wanted to kidnap me again? The idea of loosing more of my life to those bastard was enough to send me into a small fit of panic…which was closely followed by a surge of rage. How dare they!

"Guess we just have to find it first." I replied, my determination to beat them back in place.

We continued through the darkened house as quickly as I could, Sark somehow leading us to the side of the house and a sleek black car that could belong to no one but him. I grinned at the sight. Then my smile fell when I heard the dull throbbing of a helicopter…moving away from the house! Fear ran down my spine. The Covenant were already here!

I knew Sark heard it too because he was as tense as I was. Suddenly armed men dressed in black surged out of the bushes, taking us completely by surprise. Shit, they were close! I sprinted towards the car, hoping to get inside it, but almost immediately, I felt the sting of something in my shoulder and looked down in horror. A dart was sticking out of my jumper and I felt the tranquilizer being to work almost immediately.

Sagging to my knees, I stumbled forward, shooting Sark a panicked look before everything went black.

Blearily, I came awake again and found myself strapped to an uncomfortable metal chair, my hands handcuffed awkwardly behind me. My shoulders burned the second I moved, letting me know that I had been here for hours. I wondered just how many hours had passed since I'd got snatched in Marseilles. I ignored the fear that slid down my spine at the thought. This time I didn't have the CIA searching for me…I only had Sark. If he thought I was worth the risk – but then, he was probably better than the CIA anyway.

I had survived two years against the Covenant. So I would survive this too, no matter what happened. Taking a quick glance around the room as more details came back to me, I realised that the room was bare and windowless, almost like a police interrogation room, except I couldn't see any one-way glass. I was dressed in my jeans, although my boots had been removed, leaving me in bare feet (which were also handcuffed to the chair) and I only had my thin black tank on as well. The room was cold, but not as cold as some I had been in. My hair hung in knots around my face, disconcertingly blonde, as if the tie had come loose during the trip.

After spending a useless five minutes trying to work out a way out, I gave up for the moment. The handcuffs on my wrists would be easy enough to get rid of, and if I could get the chair off the floor, on which it appeared to be bloody bolted, the feet should be okay too. But that would leave me with no weapon beside the chair and no way out.

I was interrupted from further deliberation by the sound of a door opening behind me. I took stock of where I thought it was, filing the information away for later use and waited for whoever it was to come around and face me.

When he did I almost wanted to fake unconsciousness again.

"Hello, Sydney." Arvin Sloane, international slimeball and the guy I most wanted to shoot, said, holding up a needle full of some greenish liquid. "You and I have something to complete."

"I'm never going to do anything with you that doesn't involve me painfully killing you!" I growled loudly, straining against my bonds as he crept closer with the needle.

Sadly, it was no use. My neck burned when he jabbed the needle in and almost immediately fiery pain broke out all over my body. A small whimper escaped my throat at the intense pain, despite my best attempts not to let that happen, and once again, everything faded to black.

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: I hope this chapter was okay. I had a bit of trouble with it. Any comments would be appreciated.

Cheeky.