Disclaimer: I don't own Alias and never will. There, are you happy now?

A/N: And the drama continues…

Chapter 8-The assignment

---Angelina's POV---
I pulled up to my apartment. It was a typical New York apartment. Except that this wasn't New York. I parked my black Lexus switched off the engine. Pocketing my keys after I turned on my alarm, I hurried to the steps of my condo. I noticed a hooker walk past my condo and scoff at me. I shook my head as I made my way into my crappy household. The door was peeling and needed to be replaced. I had had it repainted dozen's of times, but I knew I needed a new one. The front steps of my house had graffiti all over them and my metal trash can, which was currently turned on it's side spilling out it's contents, looked as if it cost no more than 5 bucks. I closed and locked the door, throwing my keys into a large plastic brown bowl. Inside the floor was covered with faded red carpeting and paintings lined the walls. The walls were peeling as well and in some spots your could now see the material the contractors used to build the place. I had a built in bar in my living room, which I was now standing in. The living room also had 2 pristine white couches and parallel to one was an entertainment center standing barely a foot in front of a wall. To the right the living room broke off into a small section where I did my laundry an where 1 guestroom and bathroom was. The laundry room, if you could call it that, was just a dryer, a washer, and a heater in a closet with a shelf up above it. I walked through the living room, passing the kitchen and walked into my room. I had a big screen TV and a Serta king size mattress. I had a mahogany dresser with a walk in closet a few feet beside it. I had my own bathroom attached to the room and stylish lights. The room was covered in a red light, since I had turned on my red light. I headed to the bathroom to shower, change and then go home.

---Sydney's POV---
I had lost track of the time Sark had spent talking on the phone and when he returned he didn't even bring the phone call up.

"So, who was it?" I asked.

"No one." Sark answered, moving to get his shirt.

I sighed, not believing him for a second. "Really?" I asked in a dubious tone.

He chose not to answer me as he began buttoning his pants, his shirt still laying open displaying his chest. He glanced up at me before returning his attention to getting dressed.

"Sark, who was it?" I asked stubbornly.

"No one. He mumbled again.

"Sark…" I persisted, knowing something was wrong.

"Just drop it!" Sark yelled, walking out of the room.

---Angelina's POV---
I let my hair fall down to my shoulders. I combed my fingers through it, missing the purity of my blonde hair. I was dressed in a checked silk top with a short black skirt and a fur coat. I wore cute black boots, and after some thought I slipped on a necklace. I walked out of the house, grabbing up my keys, not glancing back at the condo.

---Sark's POV---
I sighed, absentmindedly running my hand through my short hair. I sat down in the hallway, sliding down to the floor.

"This can't be happening… not now." I whispered, banging my head against the wall once. I glanced back at the room and theorized that Sydney was giving me some much needed space and time to think. I knew I would have to tell her eventually.

---Angelina's POV---
I let out a small laugh, smiling as I went faster. Then again, it had always been that way, speed had been a drug to me all my life. It was getting hot, but I had gotten used to it. The coat was just for style. I stayed out of the towns, mostly because there was less chance of getting pulled over. Not that I was afraid I just really didn't want to go through a high speed chase today. It took me awhile, but finally I spotted my destination. I increased my speed, everything around me just a faint blur. Had I not known these roads like the back of my hand I would have crashed and died, but I could drive these roads with my eyes closed. I parked next to a tree, one of many and closed my eyes as I remembered that night.

---Flashback---
The camera finally focuses on a little girl in her bed sleeping. Her blonde her is matted up from the tossing and turning, most likely from a nightmare. A window is seen opened slightly and 2 men, dressed in black, crawl through it. One guy stays by the window whilst the other makes their way to the bed. He pulls back the covers and groans. The little girl hears this and her eyes flutter open.

"s." the man beside the bed curses. He signals to the man by the window and the guy whispers out the window and moments later other men have crawled through the window, into the room. The little girl seeing all of this begins to scream. A man gives the order for them to look for the boy.

"Listen up little girl, and you may just live. We're going to shoot off this gun and if after that you shut your mouth, then you'll live." another guy ordered. "Understand b?" he moved a gun towards her temple.

The girl, in tears now, simply nodded.

"Good." the same guy answered. He turned and shot one of the men that were with him in the arm. The girl, on cue, stopped screaming. The other men hurried out of the window and the man beside the bed, handcuffed the girl and dragged her out of the room. The girl, fearing her life, squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she would be okay.

---End Flashback---

I shivered, mostly from the flashback and hurried out of the car to the house, packing a standard baretta that I had decided to bring at the last moment.

---Sark's POV---
I made my way to the kitchen deciding that a fresh green apple and fresh air was the best way to clear my head. I had finished washing off the apple and took the first bite, when I heard a voice and felt a gun press to the back of my head.

"What the f are you doing in my house?" a female voice demanded to know.

Great, just great, some ass probably stayed one night here and decided that it was their house.

"If you don't want to get hurt I suggest you remove that baretta from the back of my head." I threatened.

"Piss off." the girl yelled and kicked the back of my knees.

I fell to the ground in pain, but I knew better then to let the pain get the best of me. I would have trouble using my legs for a few minutes so I would have to rely on my upper body. I felt the woman press the gun to my head again. I smiled turning around quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the floor. My hand squeezed her wrist while my other one wiggled the gun out of her hands. "You really need to go back through training little-" I started before she punched me. I moved back a little

"I'm going to tell you one time, get the f out of my house!" the girl yelled.

"It's my house!" I yelled at the delusional girl. I sucked in the pain as I stood up slowly, the baretta in my hands. "I'm going to ask you nicely…"

The girl stared at the gun, unsure if I would really shoot it. I sneered at her, leveling the gun. From her stance I could tell that she was preparing to fight me, but with that fur coat on, she would have a hard time beating me, even in I could barely walk. I fired a shot at her arm and she stumbled back. She squeezed her arm, the blood gushing out of the wound, and glared at me.

"f off, I'll be back…" and with that she left… the kitchen. I limped after her.
The girl had the nerve to prance through the house. She headed for the bathroom where we kept our first aid. She threw open the medicine cabinet and began dressing her wounds after she pulled out the bullet. It appeared that she wasn't just an ordinary civilian. "where is it?" Angelina questioned. She threw open the door to the room Sydney had stayed and was currently occupying. Angelina stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the photograph. Angelina's eyes glossed over as she forgot the pain. She moved to retrieve the picture and I watched as Sydney moved to attack her.

"Don't!" I yelled. Not quite sure who I was talking to. Both women turned to look at me.

Angelina picked up the picture and stared at it. I watched her glance to me. "How… how did you get this?"

"I don't owe you any explanation." I answered.

"Is this you?" she asked, taking in the picture of the boy and me.

"Look maybe she's your-" Sydney started. "Maybe she could be-"

"It doesn't concern you." I retorted.

"Sark!" Sydney yelled.

"Sark?" Angelina questioned. "And I guess you're Sydney."

"Why are you wearing a fur coat?" Sydney asked instead.

"Look, I don't know who you are-" I started.

"My name is Angelina and if you know what's good for you, you will get out!" the girl demanded.

"Listen, Angelina, this is my house and has been for many years. So, you leave."

"That's not fair." the girl persisted.

"Yeah well life's not fair." I argued.

The girl's eyes glossed over as she muttered, "Of course it isn't it tanned to long and it's burnt."

Feeling the pain leave my legs I marched over to the girl grabbing her throat. "How he hell do you know that? How?"

"Get off me!" the girl yelled kicking my legs out from under me. I moved to attack her when I noticed her eyes. The same familiar eyes I had known since she had been born.

"Faith?" I questioned.

"Julian?" Angelina asked, her emerald eyes glossing over in recognition. She moved to hug me, but I held her back.

She looked confused for a second and then repeated a code we had come up with when we were little while playing a game to "prove she was human." Then she ran to hug me with a confused, but smiling Sydney behind us. She pulled away, suddenly finding the ground interesting. "Julian, mum, she, she's, she's dead. Breast cancer. That's why I didn't leave this business sooner, I needed to stay in, they were paying me good money, money that I needed for her to receive treatment. But, they didn't catch it soon enough and after, afterwards I stayed in this life because I didn't know anything else. Is that okay?" Once again Faith looked for approval in he brother's eyes my eyes.

How could I say 'no'. Had I not stayed in the business myself. "It's ok." I answered, wrapping my arms around her. She pulled away and stared at Sydney.

"So, you must be Sydney… or Julia. I've heard a lot about you. You're about one of the only people I can relate to. Anyways, that's not why I'm here. Simon wants me to do a job. It's a big one. He told me, that I'd need your help on this one. Let's go." Faith told us, walking out of the room.

"Was that what the phone call was about?" Sydney questioned.

"Yea, but I think you'd better sit this one out, trust me." I told her, leaving the room.

And this Sydney was left alone in the room, wondering just what this assignment was about.

A/N: Crap, that chapter sucked. But it gets better, promise. Comments? Questions? No review, no update; as simple as that.