Author's Note: Spoilers again for Full Disclosure. Just a bit about Syd's brainwashing. And I just have to say a very big THANK YOU to everybody who has reviewed. I love hearing from you and am glad you're all still enjoying my story!

And I'm sorry this took a bit longer to get posted, but uni's getting insane again and I just had a whole bunch of essays to hand in! Unfortunately, they had to be written first :(

Cheeky.

Never Broken

By cheeky-chaos

Chapter Twelve:

Galway

I sat cross-legged on one of the long benches on Sark's deck, wrapped up warmly in a large sweater and woollen wrap. My eyes were closed and I breathed in deep, trying to let the salt-ridden air and crashing sound of waves soothe me. Not that it was working. I had never been good at this meditation stuff. I tried taken a few more deep breaths, but the tension in my muscles never seemed to ease. I heard the door slide open behind me, as someone else joined me.

"Want to talk about it?" Sark asked me, coming to sit down on the edge of the bench I sat on.

I opened my eyes and pasted on a cheerful smile as I stared into blue eyes that knew me too well. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Syd." Sark said softly, not distracted at all.

"I'm not the one that just spent three weeks locked up in a cell." I grumbled at his knowing smirk.

"It was my choice." Sark told me mildly.

I sighed, fragments of memory assailing me. "I'm beginning to remember what happened to me during my missing two years." I said, turning away to watch the cliffs. "I've never been able to do that before. I mean, I remembered a few things in dreams, but this was the first time I've been awake. I think Rambaldi's formula might have had something to do with it."

"How much do you remember?" Sark asked softly.

I turned back to look at him and found nothing but understanding in his expression. He knew these were my demons to deal with and he didn't give me any false sympathy. "At the moment, not a lot. I remember killing a man to prove to the Covenant that I had been successfully brainwashed, I remember Sloane being there and there's a lot of fragments of my actual brainwashing, but so far that appears to be it."

"You were brainwashed?" Sark asked. "I didn't think that was possible. Your will is too strong."

My lips curved into a smile at Sark's compliment, even as I shook my head. "Sorry. I forgot that you don't know." I explained. "My father developed a programme back in the 1970's to train children to be sleeper agents and future spies. I was his prototype. It seemed part of this training made me virtually impervious to brainwashing."

"Project Christmas?" Sark asked, surprised. "You were the prototype for Project Christmas?"

I nodded. "How did you know what it was called?"

"Irina mentioned it once or twice." He replied. "It was one of her jobs to steal it from the CIA. I even think she used it on me. I did that…puzzle once. Instinctively."

"At least we know why we're so good, huh?" I joked weakly.

Sark smiled gratefully at me, even though I knew my joke hadn't been that good. I think it always helps to know others have been through what you have; even if it's just a shared feeling of being manipulated one more time. "So if you weren't brainwashed, then you were aware the whole time?"

I nodded. It went unspoken that I worked as a double agent as soon as I could – but that wasn't the part I was having trouble dealing with. My regained memories, not even complete ones at that, were tormenting me. I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. To think, not so long ago I would have given anything to have my memories back! Now that I had them, I wasn't sure I wanted to keep them.

"I was brainwashed for six months. Six months of absolute torture. They used everything on me…sensory deprivation, electroshock, drugs…" My voice began to tremble as the memories of pain and fear swamped me. "He would put me to sleep by running an IV with a barbiturate into one arm and shock me awake with an amphetamine into the other…"

"He?" Sark asked softly.

"The doctor I killed in Frankfurt." I said brokenly, not really seeing anything anymore but my memories. "I promised to kill him. He told me that when I shot him…said I was his favourite…"

As the tears started to slip down my face, Sark gathered me into his arms and held me tightly. I wept silently for a minute before continuing with the rest of it. "Once he thought he'd broken me, he began to condition me…" I said softly. "…hypnosis…narcotics to make me believe what wasn't there…withholding food…bombarding me with images…"

Sark's arms tightened around me even more and I felt him press a soft kiss to my forehead. "And you know what the strange thing was?" I asked, rather sardonically and not really expecting an answer. "I kept expecting my Dad and Vaughn to bust down the door and rescue me. I mean, how bad is that? They thought I was dead! Fuck, I even saw my own funeral! The only reason I ever let them think I was becoming someone else was because it was a way out…"

"…a way to rescue yourself when no one else would." Sark finished for me. "A way to survive."

I looked up at him and noticed the shadows in his eyes. The complete understanding because he'd been there too. "Yeah." I said. "Because even if I was someone else to the rest of the world, the pain would stop."

"Oh, Syd." Sark said, gently brushing my hair off my face. "I think you have to be the strongest person I have ever met."

"So are you." I replied. "I'm willing to bet that you've been through just as much, if not more. And you're still here."

Sark smiled, but it was sad. Oh, so sad. Just like his eyes. "Only because of you." He whispered.

"Me?" I blinked, surprised.

"Ever since I first met you, it's been thoughts of you that have helped me through all of my darkest moments. Especially CIA custody." He said. "I had the idea that I would avenge your death when I finally got out. Find who was responsible for your death and kill them."

I looked at Sark and felt the tears gathered in my eyes. Somehow, his words healed a part of my soul and a warmth seemed to spread through me. I reached up and kissed him, feeling more treasured in that moment than I had before in my entire life. It didn't matter that we had still been enemies then, or that we hadn't know each other like we did now…he would have done more than any of my friends ever had.

We sat there for a long time, Sark and I; he was straddling the bench while I curled up in his arms, my head on his shoulder. The sky turned golden in a blaze of fire as the sun set and the air chilled. As the first stars began to appear in the sky, I asked the question I had wanted to ask ever since I had woken up in the naval hospital. "Why did you give yourself up for me?"

I felt Sark's surprise and got up slightly so I could see his face. His eyes were unreadable as the golden light played over his face. "You mean, to the CIA?"

I nodded, feeling strangely vulnerable. "Because I don't want you to die, Syd." He answered.

"Oh." I felt strangely let down by his answer.

I snuggled back down into his arms and returned my gaze to the sunset. "And because I love you." He whispered.

"You love me?" I twisted back around to see his face.

Sark smiled sardonically and nodded. "I think I have for a long time, but I've only realised it recently."

Warmth burst through me, driving away all the feelings of pain and somehow I felt this amazing…freedom. "Don't worry, Syd." He told me, his eyes once again unreadable. "I don't expect any declarations on your part. But you wanted the truth and that's it."

I felt a smile blossom across my face. "You really love me?" I asked.

Once again Sark nodded. "Yes, Sydney. I really do."

"Good." I said. "Because I think I love you too."

The look on Sark's face was something I will treasure for the rest of my life. As I watched, his face moved from an expression of surprise to one of cautious joy, before his eyes seemed to glisten with unshed tears. "I love you, Julian." I repeated and watched some of the shadows flee from his eyes.

I think I shall always remember the look of happiness and love in Sark's eyes as his mouth came down on mine. When he looked at me like that, I felt like the most treasured woman in the world. I had finally found the one person that would offer me strength and the freedom to be exactly who I was. The kiss was long and sweet, filled with the intoxicating sensation of loving someone and being loved completely in return.

When he finally broke away, Sark gave me a soft smile and gently stroked my cheek with one of the hands that was cupping my face. Then he seemed to remember something. "I have something for you." He said.

I looked at him curiously. "Oh?" I asked, a teasing smile playing at the corner of my mouth.

With a smirk, Sark reached into his pocket and drew out a small box. He handed it to me without a word and I shot him another curious look before opening it. I gasped in surprise and felt my face break into a grin. A beautiful teardrop diamond was nestled on the black velvet. Isabella's necklace. I felt tears gather in my eyes. "But…how..?"

"Bennetti." Sark answered.

Recognition hit. The box Bennetti had given me in Paris to give to Sark. "I think it's rather fitting this way." He added softly.

I nodded, still a little teary. "Me too." I agreed. "Thank you."

Sark smiled. "You're welcome."

I reached around behind me to try and put it on, but Sark took it out of my hands. Twisting around, I lifted me hair out of the way and he fastened the chain around my neck. At that moment, Liam stuck his head out the door, interrupting us. "Sorry." He apologised. He had arrived only an hour or so after Julian and I had arrived after Mexico. "But I think I've found something."

We got up and walked back into the house, following Liam as he led us to one of the smaller sitting rooms. "I've been going over all the information we have on the Covenant." Liam explained as he walked. "Focusing in particular on the last year or so. The time in which Julia Thorne was active."

I felt a shiver go through me at the mention of Julia Thorne, but I ruthlessly suppressed it. Somehow sensing my tension, Julian reached out and gently held my hand. I had to hide a quick smile. Sark was gazing impassively at Liam; unless you looked down you wouldn't realise one of the CIA's most wanted men was currently holding hands like he was in the 1st grade. I don't know why that analogy came to me, but suddenly I had an image of a blonde, curly-haired little boy with an impish smile and sad eyes.

"What is it?" Sark whispered to me.

"You would have been a cute kid, Julian." I whispered back with an impish smile of my own.

"Cute?" Sark said, this time not in a whisper and sounding thoroughly disgusted by the description.

Liam turned around at the outburst, took one look at Sark's offended expression and raised an eyebrow in my direction, silently demanding an explanation. "Everyone's cute when they're six!" I defended.

Sark gave me a long look, almost as if he was suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Syd," he said patiently, "why were you thinking about me aged six?"

"Oh, nevermind!" I snapped, before turning to Liam. "So, what did you find?"

Liam and Sark shared a looked that clearly said "Women!". I glared at both of them. Men! "So?"

"There's a pattern to the missions Julia was sent on and the artefacts she was asked to retrieve." Liam said, moving to his laptop and indicating the open file onscreen. "I think the Covenant is trying to build something."

"Something?" Sark asked.

Liam gave him a half-shrug, his face frowning. "It's related to Rambaldi, but that's no surprise. I haven't figured it out exactly yet. All I know is that the Covenant has virtually bankrupted itself trying to get their hands on those artefacts."

"Hence the need for my inheritance." Sark said disgustedly.

Liam nodded, before sliding his eyes in my direction with an amused grin. "They especially weren't happy when they discovered half their artefacts were fake." He said. "They've spent the last couple of months frantically searching for the real artefacts you managed to switch."

I felt an answering smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "I can't say I'm upset to hear that." I replied.

Sark sighed; not loudly, but I was close enough to hear it. "I supposed I'd better try contacting Irina." He said.

I squeezed his hand in reassurance. "I could try Bennetti." I suggested.

Sark shook his head. "As much as Bennetti knows, Irina's probably the only person on this planet who would know what Sloane is up to."

"I don't think it really matters much." Liam said. "Since you two are headed to the Amazon."

I blinked in surprise. "The Amazon?"

Liam nodded, then shook his head slightly at Sark and my bemused expressions. "The location you found with Rambaldi's Watchglass and map?" he reminded us. "The Covenant are ruthlessly trying to find that location; so whatever's there must be important."

I winced a little at the subtle rebuke. In all the chaos surrounding my collapse, my returning memories and Sark's imprisonment, I had almost completely forgotten about the information Sark and I had found in the Gobi Desert. So much had happened since then…

"Any idea what's there?" I asked.

"None." Liam answered. "But it's important. Sloane's almost rabid for whatever's there."

I sighed again. "So it's probably a good bet that it has something to do with Rambaldi's endgame." I said. "Terrific."

"We'll figure this out, Syd." Sark reassured me.

I nodded at him, trying to believe that completely. "Yeah." I agreed. "We will."

Four hours later, Sark and I found ourselves on the plane headed towards the Amazon Basin. Sark was sitting on one side of the plane going over all the intel reports for what seemed like the millionth time. I wasn't sure what he was trying to find, but it seemed important. I'd given up about an hour ago and was sitting stretched out, alternately reading the end of Isabella's diary and watching Sark. Sighing, I shifted position a little and turned my attention back to the diary.

I frowned when I saw the entry had changed from the others I had been reading. No longer did Isabella write with the neat, flowery writing I was used to. Her handwriting seemed rushed and jumpy, and the entry was roughly scribbled on spare paper instead of neatly one after the other like before. Small spots of smudged ink covered the entry as well, and I realised they were the marks of tears. Concerned, I read on, wondering what had changed from the last entry in which Isabella was so much in love and gleefully planning her elopement with Edward.

July 30th 1427,

I am dead. While my body may still be breathing like the rest of the living, inside I am dead. Was there really a time no that long ago when I believed my life could not get any worse than the hell it had been? Because I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.

Edward is dead.

I cannot believe it even as I write it, but I felt Edward's blood on my hands and cradled him as he died. His last words were "I love you", but I only know that now by looking back. At the time, the sound of my heart shattering drowned out all other sound. There is only one reason I do not fling myself into the canals and join my beloved at Heaven's pearly gates – our child. I am pregnant.

My father is marrying me off to that horrible name, but I no longer care. Nothing he can inflict upon me will ever come close to the pain I feel now. I will raise our son to know the bravery and honour of his father, for I am sure it will be a son. That is my sole reason to remain here, in this hell. Let no man believe they can take this from me, for then they shall find out just how dangerous Isabella de L'Archier can be.

Isabella

I blinked away the tears that had gathered in my eyes and read the last entry in the diary, obviously having been written much later than the others. The tear marks were gone and the handwriting was once again neat, but I knew that Isabella had never been the same after Edward's death. If Sark were to die…even thinking it made my heart break. But I know what I would do. Destroy those responsible.

March 12th 1433,

This is the final entry in my diary. Sydney. That's your name, woman who shares my face. I don't know how I know this, but I do. This entry is for you. My father was the one that killed Edward. He knew about our love for each other and couldn't let it end happily. Something to do with you and how he plans to stop you from carrying out your destiny.

I'm sorry I must lay all these burdens at your feet, but the time is not right to stop my father. He is right. Only you have that power. Use it and destroy him, for otherwise he will destroy you and the man you love.

Our son is growing into a fine man. My brute of a husband thinks my beloved Giovanni is his, but I know the truth. Giovanni is just like his true father – strong of heart and soul. I will give him this diary to hide and make him promise to make sure it is kept safe. Then, when the time is right, you shall have it Sydney. And when you read of my thoughts, I hope you do not judge me too foolish.

Fulfil your destiny. Destroy my father.

Then, please, I beg of you to do one thing for me. Run away, far away. Find a quite corner of this world to live out the rest of your life with the man you love. Julian. I know his name too. You deserve some happiness.

Until we meet in the next life, Sydney.

Isabella.

"Syd?" Sark's quiet question and his arms coming around me jerked me back to the plane.

I became aware that tears were silently sliding down my face. "I finished the dairy." I said with a watery smile.

"That bad, huh?" Sark joked weakly, gathering me closer to him.

I pressed my face into his chest for a moment, gathering strength, before leaning back again. "Rambaldi killed Edward." I said. "Isabella held him as he died."

"I had a feeling it wouldn't end happily." Sark said.

I gave a small smile. "She really is a lot like me." I replied. "You know what she did? She marryied the man her father wanted her to, so she could raise her son. Edward's son."

"So Bennetti…" Sark began.

"…is the descendant of Isabella and Edward." I finished. "Yeah."

"It explains why he had the diary." Sark said. "And why no one else knew of it."

I nodded in agreement as I turned the diary around and let Sark read the last entry. "We're going to stop Sloane and then we're going to make sure Rambaldi's legacy is destroyed." I said firmly as Sark read the entry.

When he looked back at me, even he had the slight sheen of tears in his eyes. "Yes." He agreed. "We are."

Brazil

The Amazon Basin was hot and steamy, just as I'd expected. My boots were covered in mud, as were the bottom half of my jeans and sweat made my clothes stick to my skin. I wore a black tank and loose shirt over my jeans and about a million pounds of bug repellent. Not that it made much difference; the bugs kept biting me anyway. And then there had been that memorable episode with the leeches.

"Please tell me we're close." I muttered to Sark, pushing through the dense undergrowth to stand beside him.

Sark took his eyes of the GPS in his hand and shot me a smirk. "Sick of the jungle already, Syd?" he teased.

I raised an eyebrow. "How can you tell?" I asked, dryly. "Was it the swearing, the leeches or the mud that gave you the clue?"

"Actually, it was the way you threatened to kill that monkey about a kilometre ago." Sark replied.

I looked at Sark in annoyance and disgust. Despite having trekked for miles through this steamy, dense jungle, he still looked remarkably fresh and neat. There was barely any mud on his clothes (in comparison to the ten pounds on mine) and his hair was still perfect. Unlike mine, which stuck to my face and neck where it had come out of the tight braid. I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm so glad that amused you." I grumped.

Sark's smirk changed into an amused grin. "To answer your earlier question: yes, we're close." He told me. "We should be coming up on the shrine in about 500m."

Not a moment too soon. "Thank God." I muttered.

Sark chuckled softly. "If I didn't know you better, I might think you were eager to see what was in there." He said as we began walking again.

I just shot Sark a grumpy look and returned to trudging my way through the mud and vegetation. It didn't take us long until we could glimpse the sandstone shrine through the trees. Vines and plants had grown all around the ruins and not much remained in the clearing – but it was enough to tell us that we were in the right place. As was the Rambaldi symbol which appeared to be carved into almost everything.

"Love what they did with the place." I muttered.

Sark chuckled. "It does have a certain ambiance, doesn't it?" he agreed with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

I grinned back. "You mean the creepiness? Or the whole "crumbling and decaying" look?"

Suddenly, the sounds of the jungle around us seemed to shift and change and I could have sworn I heard the soft beats of a helicopter in the air. My hand relaxed on their grip on my gun and I rose from the slight crouch I had automatically sunk into. Beside me, Sark did the same, his blue eyes hard and glittering like ice. "We'd better find the entrance to the catacombs." He said softly, all business.

I nodded in reply, still warily scanning the vegetation around us. "Yeah."

Ten minutes later, Sark and I had successfully located the old trapdoor in the centre of the ruins. Made of wood, the actually door had long since rotted away, revealing a dark tunnel that went straight down. "Ladies first." Sark said with a small smirk, gesturing towards the entrance.

I gave him a dry look. "Thanks." I said, eyeing the ladder leading down into the darkness; thankfully, this was in the form of grooves carved out of the rock walls and hadn't rotted with age like the door.

Beginning my perilous decent, I gave Sark one last look, took a deep breath and started down. I attached a small light to my belt to light my way down, which I really needed when Sark covered the entrance with branches and leaves, and followed me down. The air was thick and humid, a mix of decaying vegetation and stale air. The long climb reminded me of the one in Argentina, where I had located Rambaldi's diary. I just hoped this time turned out better that that one had.

When I finally reached the bottom, after an eternity, I turned to wait for Sark to join me. He jumped down the final few steps and gave me a reassuring smile. Together, we turned to face the narrow tunnel leading away from the ladder and what would lead, hopefully, to what we were searching for.

After a long hour of wandering through the stale, meandering tunnel, Sark and I found ourselves in a wide room very similar to the one containing the map in the Gobi Desert. Sunlight streamed in, lighting one of the most intriguing, yet horrifying sights I had ever seen. I took a few hesitant steps forward, my eyes fixed on the far end of the room. "Oh my God…" I breathed.

Beside me, Sark was just as tense and surprised. Covering the whole far wall was the Rambaldi symbol, surrounded by what appeared to be some sort of motto or creed. Below the wall, sitting on a raised platform, was a tiny model. I frowned, not quite able to place was I was looking at, and walked over to the model. Then I gasped. The model was the perfect replica of a city designed in the shape of the Rambaldi symbol. It sat at the bottom of Rambaldi's beloved Mt. Subasio and suddenly I understood what the prophecy meant.

This woman here depicted will possess unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works. Bind them with fury, a burning anger unless prevented at vulgar cost this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation. This woman, without pretence, will have had her effect, never having seen the beauty of my sky behind Mt. Subasio. Perhaps a single glance would have quelled her fire.

Rambaldi was wrong – no matter how long I stared at the "sky behind Mt. Subasio" (the far wall), I would never stop trying to destroy him or his endgame. Maybe his formula had been designed to change that, but I had stopped him then and I would again.

"The order of Rambaldi will arise and rule the world." Sark read the motto surrounding the symbol on the wall. "For they are the true keepers of destiny."

"He's going to destroy the world." I said to Sark, horrified. "That's his endgame."

An evil chuckle echoed around the room. I tensed immediately, fear curling through my gut as I whirled around and drew my gun. When I did, I found Sloane standing at the back of the room with a whole team of goons and a few familiar faces; I recognised Elena Derevko, McKennas Cole and my old nemesis, Anna Espinosa.

"Very good, Sydney." Sloane said, his gun pointed directly at my head. "And I must thank you. Without your help we would never have found this place."

I felt a second of fear at having led them here before Sloane fired. Belatedly, I recognised his weapon as a dart gun, just as the dart stuck me in the neck and I sank to my knees. A wave of fire and agony spread throughout my body, blinding me with pain and I groaned through gritted teeth. In that moment, I knew the dart had been filled with Rambaldi's formula. It wasn't nearly as much as I had been injected with before, but it was enough.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you, Mr. Sark." I heard Sloane say from somewhere above me. "Anna is an amazing shot. You'd be dead before you could even take a step."

A second later, I was yanked roughly to my feet by one of the goons and found McKennas Cole standing in front of me, smirking. On Sark, the smirk was cute. On Cole, it made me want to shoot him. "Sydney," he greeted, reaching for my gun. "I'll take that."

I gave him a furious look as he took my gun from me and bit back another groan. The pain was so agonising that I couldn't do anything to escape, not even with my high pain tolerance. Not even when the goon changed his grip and held only one arm. It took ever ounce of my will just to remain standing.

Next to me, Sark had also been grabbed and disarmed. Two goons held him and he continued to struggle until Anna pointed her gun right into his face with a cruel smile. "Syd!" Sark called out, worry apparent in his eyes.

"I'm fine." I replied, even though both of us knew I was lying through my teeth.

"Mr. Cole, will you please retrieve the artefact?" Sloane asked.

"Of course, sir." Cole replied and I was shocked by the respect in his tone – these were two men who were supposed to hate each other!

As Cole walked over to the model behind us, still holding my gun, Sloane walked up to me. "Sydney," he coaxed, reaching up to stroke my cheek. "Don't fight me."

I opened my mouth for a scathing reply and attempted to jerk my head away form his touch, but somehow the words refused to come out and my head refused to obey. A curious sensation came over me – I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears and my breath seemed impossibly loud, yet all the other sounds were muffled. Even the pain seemed to fade into the background.

"That's it, Sydney." Sloane's voice seemed to vibrate through me and sink into my very bones. "I only want to see you happy."

Of course he did. Why had I ever thought otherwise? I smiled. Sloane would make everything alright.

"Vaughn made you happy, didn't he?" Sloane asked, his voice impossibly persuasive. "He loved you very much. Just like you still love him. You still love him, don't you Sydney?"

Before I could answer that mesmerising voice, an image of blue eyes swam before my eyes, breaking a little of the spell surrounding me. "I love you, Syd." The echo of a familiar British voice sounded in my ears.

With enormous effort, I dragged myself through the fog entangling my mind, struggling to shatter the daze around me and return to reality. "I love Julian, you son-of-a-bitch!" I growled out fiercely.

"Sydney…" Sloane began again and the fog threatening to swallow me once more.

"Save it!" I snapped. "Nothing you could possibly say would ever change that!"

Sloane regarded me coldly for a moment. "So be it." He said and nodded to Anna.

Anna grinned evilly, before reaching out and smashing Sark across the face with the butt of her gun. He sagged in the grip of the goons holding him, unconsciousness claiming him. "Julian!" I yelled, struggling against the returning pain and the goon holding me.

I fell silent when the cold metal of Cole's gun pressed against my temple. I watched in angry silence as Sloane smiled coldly at Anna, as she and the two goons dragged Sark's unconscious body from the room. When he turned back to me with a cruel smirk, I had to bite my lip to stop myself leaping at him and attempting to claw out his eyes.

"You know, Sydney." He said. "You really should have learnt from Isabella's example. You had a chance to live a long and happy life."

"I would rather die today that live in a world where everyone worships you!" I snapped angrily.

Sloane laughed, but there was no humanity in the sound. "Well, now you get your chance." He said, before turning to follow Anna.

At the same moment Sloane disappeared, chaos erupted. Men in black suddenly burst out of hidden doors to the sides of the model, guns at the ready. "CIA! Freeze!" they yelled.

Suddenly the goon holding me went limp and Cole was thrown across the room by a well-placed kick. But before I could turn and find out who my rescuer was, something jabbed me painfully in the neck. I gasped and spun, only to find Irina standing behind me with an empty syringe in her black-gloved hand. "Mom?" I gasped as the remaining fog surrounding my mind disappeared as a result of whatever drug she had just injected me with did its job.

"I stole it from the hospital while you were being treated." My mother said by way of explanation. "We…"

Before she could finish saying whatever it was, Elena had snuck up behind her and yanked her backwards by her hair. "Irina!" she growled.

"Elena." Irina said coldly back, sounding as if being yanked backwards by her sister wasn't surprising at all.

I lost whatever happened next as Cole's fist connected with my mouth, sending me to my knees again. "I've been waiting to do that for a long time, Pigtails." He said, using his old nickname for me.

"Yeah?" I asked, climbing to my feet again. Abruptly, I feigned a punch before kicking him viciously in the groin. He dropped to his hands and knees with a groan. "Well, I've been waiting to do that for a very long time."

I touched my tongue to my split lip as I warily watched Cole climb to his feet again. Memories assailed me of my time as Julia Thorne; of fighting for survival, of seeing one man's smug face watching me all the time…Cole. "Is that all you got, Pigtails?" Cole asked me as he straightened.

I smiled, but it was cold. "Oh, I got a lot more than that, Cole." I answered. "Want to come over here and find out?"

Cole gave me a dark look, before racing forward and sending a punch straight at my nose. I was woozy from the drugs, but not that woozy. I blocked his punch and lashed out with one of my own, sending Cole a challenging look. I lashed out again with a couple of kicks, sending Cole staggered backwards a few steps, before he retaliated with a kick of his own. I spun out of the way and blocked, catching Cole in the gut with my fist and sending him staggering backwards again.

"You've picked up a few new tricks since we last fought, haven't you, Pigtails?" he panted.

"I've picked up a lot more things than that, Cole."

Cole darted in with a kick and I retreated, before spinning around with a punch-kick combination that sent him reeling again. He backed up a few paces and waited, his hand rubbing his jaw where I had hit him before. I came at him again, trying to knock him out when he whipped out a knife and grabbed me by the neck in a lightening fast move. I felt the cold metal press against my throat.

"Now what are you going to do, Pigtails?" he whispered in my ear.

"Kick your ass!" I growled in reply.

Taking my opportunity, I grabbed his wrist and wrenching the knife away from my neck, before elbowing him in the face and spinning away. Before he could turn and come at me again, I gave him a hard kick to the back, putting all my anger and frustration into it. Cole staggered and fell to the ground, gasping in pain. I stepped forward, intending to knock him out, when I saw his muscles tense. Reacting on instinct, I darted away as Cole spun and shot at me.

I kicked the gun out of his hand as soon as I saw it, and it skidded away across the floor. He snarled in response, but I kicked him again. He caught me foot, sending me crashing to the floor. I twisted as I fell, using the palms of my hands to break my fall slightly. I winced at the jolt that ran up my arms, before smiling when I saw what lay in front of me.

"That does it, Pigtails!" Cole cried. "You just couldn't be nice for once and just die! You had to go all kick ass on me, didn't you?"

I didn't reply; instead I twisted again and brought up Cole's gun – the same gun that I had just snatched off the ground. I shot Cole three times in the chest to his shock, giving into the rage that had burnt inside of me ever since Cole had ordered me to kill that man for the Covenant.

Staggering back up onto my feet and wondering just how much more I had to take, I glanced back through the chaos to my mother. She was kneeling beside the dead body of her sister Elena, gently touching her cheek with a sad smile on her face. I turned away from her towards the door which Sloane had disappeared through. Torn, I struggled to make a decision as bullets whizzed around me as the CIA and Covenant goons continued to fight it out. I had to rescue Julian, but my mother wouldn't have come without a very good reason – and I needed help.

"Sydney!" my mother grabbed my arm, breaking my thoughts. "This way! We have to go, now!"

"Julian…" I began.

"Sloane has him now!" Irina said. "Come on! We have to get out of here!"

With one last wistful look at the door which Sloane had gone through, I turned and followed my mother through the chaos and out the back way, vowing that I would not rest until Sloane was dead, Rambaldi destroyed and Sark was back with me where he belonged.

To Be Continued…