Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The Following Takes Place Between 10:00 P.M. and 11:00 P.M.

Jack's first reaction was to grab Sark by the scruff of the neck. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Sark just looked at Jack's hand on his clothing and arched a brow, looking as though someone had spilled a plate of syruped pancakes on his Armani. "You know as well as I do how swift Sloane is," he said in a remarkably calm voice. "He even smells a trap, he goes to his contingency plan, and you never get to see how alive he is."

Sydney rolled her eyes, standing back a few feet from the two men. "Do you really think you're in any position to bargain?"

"If you want to kill me, go ahead," Sark said as though telling a five-year-old it was perfectly fine that he held his breath until he turned blue. "However, if you do that, you won't have the proverbial chance in hell in finding Sloane, or stopping him from succeeding in his master plan."

"Do you even bother to keep track of what you do?" Sydney argued. "You just gave us a laptop—"

"—with general geographic coordinates as to where the virus is going to be deployed. But that's a huge difference from the exact locations or knowing who you're looking for." Sark gave a Gallic shrug. "Sloane's spent a lot of time and energy preparing for this. You think he hasn't planned for your involvement as well? Even if you manage to mobilize the world's police, it would be nearly impossible to get all of them on your own. And while that would thwart the plan, it would still lead to the deaths of tens of millions. You prepared to take that chance?"

With a sickening horror, Jack that even if he didn't believe in the endgame, the results of Sark's plan would be cataclysmic. Slowly he took his hands off Sark.

"Now here are my terms for helping, and believe me when I tell you they are non-negotiable." Sark's tone took a patronizing air that nobody liked. "You're going to uncuff me and give me back my clothes and my laptop. You're also going to get me a new car to make up for the two you had me destroy. Then you're going to call your friend the President and arrange for a special deal."

"You really think that David Palmer would give you any kind of deal based on the shit you've pulled today?" Vaughn argued.

"Not unless he wants to go down in history as the last President of the United States, which is definitely going to happen if events play out as Sloane intends."

"You really think he's going to buy to any of this immortality bullshit that you and Irina have been flinging about?" Jack asked.

Sark smiled. "Who says he needs to believe the part about immortality? He needs to know that Sloane believes it. Considering Arvin Sloane's history, that shouldn't take too much doing, now should it?" He shrugged. "Besides, making the President a believer isn't my job. It's yours. And you know as well as I do that immunity from prosecution isn't going to protect me from Sloane. No," Sark told them. "Once I gave you what I promised you're going to arrange for me to disappear. Like the Covenant did when they tried to break Sydney. Only you're going to do a much more effective task of it then they will."

"You really want to see how well we can make you disappear?" Sydney argued.

"Unchain him."

Sydney wasn't sure she heard right. "Jack, this man was the prince of lies even before today," she reminded him.

Jack paused, torn between answering her and chewing her out for not following orders. However, one rule of interrogations: don't let the bad guys see you quibble unless it was planned in advance. He gestured for Sark's hands. Sark gave a little nod and offered them up, and Jack unlocked him.

Julian turned back and grinned. "How very civil of you—"

Jack shoved Sark in the chest so hard he fell over, landing ass first on the bridge. "Make yourself comfortable," he said as he turned, moving away.

"I think I'll do that, thank you."

Sydney and Vaughn followed Jack out of Sark's earshot, moving to the other side of the barricade of CTU vans. Both Michael and Syd started to speak, and Syd relented, letting Vaughn go first.

"Jack, what the hell are you thinking? What about the Chinese?" Vaughn argued. "They're still going to want their pound of flesh after this is over; you want to make a bad situation with them terrible?"

Bauer's eyes narrowed as he looked at the both of them. "Sark knows as well as I do even if this deal goes through, the Chinese aren't going to give up searching for him just because of our deal. He can run, but he can't hide forever. Besides, the Chinese don't even need to know he was involved. We can give them Sloane, and they can spend forever torturing him for all I care. And that's assuming he can stay out of the reach of Sloane's lackeys, and we know from past experience those people have longer reaches than any single government." He looked back, towards Sark. "If I had enough time to drop some hints—"

Sark, who was getting impatient, screamed over the guards and the vans, "You've got slightly more than twenty-five minutes to convince the President of the seriousness of all this, get my deal, then drive to the rendezvous point." Even though Sark was stripped naked, it seemed like he had managed to regain the upper hand. "Sloane's on a schedule, and he will not wait for long."

Jack exchanged a glance with Syd and Michael, and Syd rolled her eyes. "How can you trust him not to turn on us the moment he's able?"

Bauer smiled, then moved back towards the prisoner. Sark had managed to park himself on the curb, completely free of chains or modesty.

Hating everything that was happening even more then before, Sydney unlocked the cuffs, while Jack took out his cell.

"I suppose asking for a little privacy would be meaningless given how intimate you've demonstrated yourself with my anatomy," Sark was exercising his faux charm again.

"I've seen it, there's nothing to be private about."

10:08:49/10:08:50/10:08:51

"Jack, I've been on the phone with CTU, " the President told him. "I understand that you've managed to capture Julian Sark."

"Mr. President, have you been briefed by Tony and Dixon on the events of the last few hours?" Jack asked brusquely.

"I've been keeping an indirect ear on things, but I've had to deal with the rioting and waves of racial violence breaking out across the country, as well as monitoring things at the UN," the President told him.

"Then I'm afraid I have to tell that you the situation is far more serious than any of us could have imagined," Jack said grimly.

"I wouldn't think that was possible."

"Sir, in the last three hours, we've learned that Sark was not the sole arbiter of today's events."

There was a pause. "Who is?"

Jack took a deep breath. "Arvin Sloane," he told him.

"Jack, this morning you assured me that Arvin Sloane was dead," the President told him. "In fact, you assured me of that several months ago. I believe you said something about a fall from a great height and explosives."

"I don't know what to tell you, Mr. President," Jack said honestly. "Since I've started at APO, death doesn't seem to carry the same weight that it used to. All I know is, less than ten minutes ago we intercepted a call to Sark from Sloane. Believe me when I tell you I recognized the voice."

President Palmer considered this. "You told me that the situation was worse than we thought," he finally asked. "How? Does it have to do with this Rimbaldi individual?"

"Sloane is in possession of nine of the vials of the genetic virus that were used in Los Angeles earlier today," Jack said flatly. "According to Sark, each one has been genetically modified to affect the various ethnic groups in the planet. Sloane intends to deploy them at certain locations within the next several hours."

There was a much longer pause as the President absorbed this. "What in the name of God is this madman trying to do?" he finally asked.

Now came the really hard part. "All the evidence that we have uncovered indicates Sloane is trying to carry out Rimbaldi's final solution," he said carefully. "He believes that it can create some kind of immortality for those who survive this plague."

"Jack, I know what you and Agent Bristow told me about the last time we dealt with Rimbaldi," the President said. "And even after you convinced me of its veracity, it was nearly impossible for me to convince anyone in my or any other government that this was feasible."

"I realize that, Mr. President," Jack admitted. "In all honesty, I'm not convinced I believe it myself. But even if we don't believe in Sloane's endgame, we know what will happen. We've seen this virus in action. If even a tenth of what he's telling us is true, we could be faced with something even worse than World War III."

"Do you have any kind of plan on how to stop this from coming about?" President Palmer asked.

"Right now, our best chance of tracking Sloane down is to follow Sark," Jack told him. "And he has made it very clear that he will not help us unless we protect him against the Chinese and Sloane."

"Jack, too many people know what this man has already done," the President told him. "If I were to give any kind of deal to him, the Chinese would declare war within minutes."

Jack looked at Sark, who by now was completely dressed. "He's well aware of that," he told him. "Which is why he wants us to fake his death."

"What makes him think we won't let that come about normally?"

"He knows that, too," Jack said. "He's playing on our patriotism. And as much as I want to blow his head off now, we don't have time to screw around. He's set up to meet with Sloane in the next fifteen minutes, and he's not going to tell us where until we have a deal in place."

There was the longest pause yet. Finally the President spoke. "Put Sark on the line."

Jack put the phone on speaker, and walked over to Sark. "Do not fuck with us," he told him.

"Mr. Sark," the President said in a tone that Jack knew contained a real, genuine anger. "I suppose I should congratulate you on becoming the most dangerous man alive, except, if you're to be believed, there are far more terrible people behind it. Given your reputation for deceitfulness, I am tempted to believe that you are lying, and throw you over to the Chinese. However, the President can not afford to gamble with the fate of the world. Therefore, if the information you have leads us to Arvin Sloane, you will get everything you have asked for. I will make this clear to any government that seeks to prosecute you. No agent of this government will be permitted to touch you. Is this satisfactory?"

"I can live with it," Sark said. "And I had better."

"My word isn't good enough?" the President said icily.

"I suppose it'll have to be," Sark said airily.

10:17:35/10:17:36/10:17:37/10:17:38

"All right," Sydney said disgusted. "You've gotten what you asked for. Now where are you going to meet Sloane?"

Sark had just finished neatening up his collar. "The lobby of the Northern Hotel, just off Santa Monica Bay," he said quietly. "And before you get in contact with CTU, assembling back up teams and wiring me for sound, let make some things perfectly clear: Sloane knows every protocol you're going to run, and he's prepared himself against just such contingencies."

Jack gave him a wry half-smile. "Don't you think we know that?" Jack snapped. "He only ran on both sides of this game for the past twenty years." Bauer smiled. "We're going to send you in on your own. Try not to get killed before we get to Sloane."

"The President may have given his blessing to this," Vaughn said, "but you can't honestly think—"

"The time, gentlemen," Sark said coolly. "You can't afford to waste it nattering over whether I'm trustworthy. You may think I'm not—"

"We know you're not," Sydney countered.

"—but as I've made clear, I'm your best last chance at stopping all this." Sark's voice turned cold. "In any case, you don't have to worry about me going unsupervised. Miss Bristow will be accompanying me right into the lion's den."

Jack Bristow, who had been updating Tony and Dixon about the situation at CTU, had walked back over to them. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Sark gave Mr. Bristow a jaunty little wave, as though they were old friends instead of occasional hunter and prey. "Sloane's going to expect me to show up with both your granddaughter and Irina. When he finds out I don't have either, he'll be inclined to kill me right then."

"We don't have a problem with that," Vaughn told him icily.

"I've only told you where I'm going to meet with Sloane, not his base of operations," Sark pointed out. "And before you try to run roughshod over me to get it, I'm not going to give you what little leverage I have left until I am absolutely sure I'm safe."

Jack looked Sark straight in the eye. "I give you my word that we aren't going to doublecross you."

Julian met Jack's gaze unflinchingly and nodded. "And I appreciate how hard that must be for you. And, while I completely trust your word, Jack," he said with a glance at Vaughn and the Bristows, "there some others who I do not trust to exercise the same control."

Bauer nodded. "I understand. Just as long as you give me your word that you're not going to screw us on this."

Sark smiled. "Of course. My word is given."

"That's it?" Vaughn said tightly, nearly yelling. "You're just going to take his word for it—"

Jack glanced at Vaughn with a look harder than he had just given Sark. "Yes. I do. It's worked before. Not in the way we expected it, but he kept his word." Bauer looked to Sark again. "So what exactly are you going to do?"

"I will tell Sydney, and only Sydney, the full details of my plan when we are in transit," Sark told them. "There will be no tracers, no parabolic mikes, no electronics at all. And whatever teams you send to the hotel had better stay outside a one-mile radius of the hotel. Sloane has access to a special mobile radar technology."

"All right," Sydney said abruptly.

All three of the men looked at Sydney as if she'd grown a third head. "You can't tell me you're putting your life in the hands of this sack of shit?" Vaughn told her.

"If you honestly I'm afraid of him..." Sydney trailed off there. "He knows that if he does anything to fuck with us, I'll snap his neck like a chicken bone." Sydney fixed Sark with a stare. "I also know Sloane better than any of you, and right now this is probably our only chance of getting to him. we need a stinking piece of cheese to catch this rat."

Vaughn knew that his wife was right, but that didn't mean he liked it. "Do anything to hurt Sydney—"

"Now, now, Agent Vaughn," Sark said. "You know I would treat anyone you're married to with the utmost respect."

Sydney clamped an arm on her husband's shoulder.

"You must really have a death wish," Sydney muttered.

"How wrong you are, Sydney," Sark said smugly

10:24:09/10:24:10/10:24:11

Nadia had been monitoring the events at the Reservoir over the past hour with a deepening sense of dismay. However, when she heard from Dixon what was about to be done next, she couldn't hold out any longer. Though she was still pissed at Jack, she didn't hesitate to call him.

"Bauer,"

"Jack, it's Nadia. What the fuck is going on? " she demanded abruptly. "Thirty minutes ago, you had Sark in custody, now you've helped broker a deal for his freedom and let him take Sydney to whatever madness he's still involved in?"

"Sark confirmed that everything that Irina said was true, and Sark's the only thing that we can use to stop him. We're talking about nothing less than the extinction of the human race. Under these circumstances, we had no choice but to give him some kind of deal."

"Is my father alive?" Nadia demanded.

"I can't say for—"

"Is he alive, Jack?"

Jack didn't hesitate. "I think so," he told her.

The same glut of emotions that had flowed through her the last time she had dealt with her father were running rampant in her again. This time anger overwhelmed all the others, though Nadia still wasn't sure who it was aimed at this time.

She tried to focus her emotion on her immediate goals. "He wanted Isabelle for this sacrifice?" she asked.

"If Sark is to be believed, she's not the only one he wants," Jack told her. "According to the data file, he needs the blood of three generations of the Chosen One's ancestry."

Nadia tried to get her head around this. "In other words, he'd need Sydney as well as Isabelle and my mother," she pointed out.

"He could also have been talking about you," Jack pointed out.

"But Syd's in the field, and I'm not," Nadia said angrily. "Why is it we keep giving these people what they want?"

"From what we understand, he needs all three of you together. That still puts him two short of pulling this off," Jack reminded her.

"And you don't think that my father doesn't have some backup plan for getting at them?" Nadia said bitterly. "He's spent years trying to set all this up, and he's not going to let a highly-protected government facility stand between him and a lifetime's obsession."

"We won't let it get that far," Jack assured Nadia. "A parent will do anything to protect their child. Sydney will never let Sloane get near her."

"She may not have that option," Nadia told him. "You know how good a manipulator my father is. He already managed to get Sark and Anna Espinoza to work together when they should have ripped each other to pieces. He must have some kind of backup even in case something happens to him."

Even though Jack was inclined to agree, he realized they couldn't plan that far in advance. "We can't afford to worry about anything else your father might do later. We have to worry about stopping him now."

"You were supposed to have stopped him, Jack," Nadia reminded him bitterly. "He's managed to escape death so many times, I'm not sure it even bothers him as a threat."

"What are you saying?"

"Just that, we better hope Sloane hasn't already gotten what he's playing for," Nadia argued. "Otherwise, we've got a whole new set of problems."

10:29:31/10:29:32/10:29:33/10:29:34

"How long will it take you to get into position?" Sydney asked Jack Bristow over her cell.

"We're in transit. If Sark's been telling us the truth, it'll take us an additional ten minutes once we're there to get set up properly," her father told her. "I don't need to tell you what a big 'if' that is."

"If you're going to tell me what a bad idea this is again, I'm well aware of the consequences," Sydney said. "The hell of the thing is, even after the mountains of bullshit I've climbed through to deal with Sloane, I think he still has more than a little affection for me. I don't think that it has anything to do with prophecies or Rimbaldi or all the lies."

"Sydney, Sark just told you, he only wants you for your blood," her father said. "He's willing to use Isabelle to get to you."

"That's his perversion of affection," Sydney told him. "It disgusts me to my very core, but if I can use it to get close to him, it's worth the effort. Don't get me wrong," she said quickly, "if I see a chance to take him out, I will use it, but I'm pretty sure he'll give more information voluntarily than trying to torture it from him."

There was a pause. "I don't have to remind you that Arvin Sloane is a whole different animal than Sark," Jack Bristow began.

"No, you don't, and in a perfect world you could firebomb the hotel the second after Sark goes in," she told him, "but as always seems to be the case, we can't do what the heart wants."

"Has Sark given you anything yet?"

"Not much," Sydney admitted. "I'm going to press him a little more before we get there. "

"Then don't waste anymore time," her father said. "Even with the defenses Sloane might have, we've got some devices from Marshall that should help us get around that. Worry about getting whatever information you can get before we send the walls crashing down."

"All right," Sydney said. "I'm going dark. I'll try and get in touch with you at the best opportunity."

"I'll make sure CTU is prepared."

Sydney turned off her phone. "Just out of curiosity," she asked her passenger, "what's the game plan? You think you're just going to walk in the front door with me and Sloane will welcome you with open arms?"

"You misunderstand the situation," Sark said. "I'm going to be bringing you in, not the other way around."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Sloane will kill me if I were to show up empty-handed," Sark told him. "But he'll be more than understanding when I come in with a hostage who happens to be the missing part of the formula."

Suddenly things were making a lot more sense to Sydney. "I worked under Sloane far longer than you have," she told him icily. "He knows my abilities. He'll never believe you could have taken me in a fair fight."

"You've known me a long time, too," Sark pointed out. "When was the last time I fought fair? You managed to take out my entire team, but in the aftermath of the carnage I managed to zap you with a stun gun and take you prisoner, just like your loving husband was willing to do to get me."

"How are you going to explain what happened to my mother and Isabelle?"

"As far as I know, they're in CTU custody. As horrible as Irina must have been to you earlier, you wouldn't kill her without draining her of intelligence, and after she tried to get your daughter, you probably put her in your equivalent of a steel cage with all the big strong women surrounding her. By the way," Sark asked casually, "how's your sister doing?"

"Just fine," Sydney said as calmly as she could manage. "As always, the help that you hired for these kinds of missions is always spectacularly inept."

"Really," Sark said in a tone just as smug. "The Premier of China is dead, there are race riots spreading throughout the country, and we're hours away from starting off the wholesale slaughter of the entire planet. Seems we've done a fine job."

Because there was an element of truth to this, Sydney decided to ask a more pertinent question. "How long has this been in the works?" she demanded. "Was this always Sloane's endgame, even while he was working for SD-6?"

"You'll get a chance to ask him soon enough," Sark pointed out. "I've only known about this plan since I managed to escape from you the last time. By the way, how did Jack take my escape when I left you with Anna?"

Syd kept her eye on the road. "Consider yourself fortunate that you weren't within shooting distance at the time. Arm's length would have been worse."

Sark smiled. "Ah, always good to be appreciated."

"Now, the plan?"

"Yes. That. I am aware that your aunt, the late Elena Derevko, never knew about it. Otherwise, she'd have made it part of her plan when she managed to get Arvin out of the situation when you had the plane shot out from under him after that whole Sayed Ali incident."

"And how exactly did he manage to persuade Anna to work for him, given everything that had gone on between them over the years?"

"Anna is a bit like me. She's always been willing to work for the highest bidder. When she learned that she could earn immortality for playing the wife of a millionaire defense contractor—and doing us the odd favor, now and then—she jumped at the chance." Sark gave another one of his cold smiles. "For that kind of bounty, she was even willing to work with the man who put her in prison."

"You're not giving me enough to convince me you're going to do as your told," Sydney said.

"Well, you're going to have to trust my sincerity soon," Sark told her. "The hotel is on the next left."

10:38:27/10:38:28/10:38:29

The Northern Hotel was not a particularly grandiose building, but Sydney had a feeling that Sloane had chosen it more for location than atmosphere. Though it appeared to be a quasi-luxury hotel, there were signs that there was something below the surface. There seemed to be a lot more electronics at ground level, and there seemed to be a far greater crowd gathering around the entrance than the usual number of doormen and valets.

Sydney was in the process of parking when Sark muttered: "Hand over your weapon."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Sydney countered.

"Am I supposed to be holding you hostage with you holding the weapon? And since your people haven't gotten into position, you've got no backup. Hand over your gun."

Sydney could already see the holes in this plan, but did not quibble, choosing to hand over her Glock. He leveled it on her like he meant it. "Now open your door, and slowly step out," he ordered.

She did so. A few seconds later, Sark crept out behind her, the Glock now pointed squarely at her head. "I believe you know the procedure," Sark said coolly. He grabbed her wrist, and began to push her forward

As they neared the entrance, Sydney quickly got confirmation that the Northern was no rest stop. Three of the men who had gathered at the front, now approached them with weapons in their hands. "What the fuck is she doing here?" one of the men demanded.

"If I were you, I would watch my mouth," Sark said in his normal smug tone. "The woman I've captured is very important to our VIP."

"Maybe so, but she's not the one you were supposed to bring here," an unpleasant looking man with an Uzi said. "How do we know that this isn't a trap?"

"Do your little electronic sweep if it makes you feel big," Sark said almost casually. "Myself, I think this one deserves a thorough examination."

The last individual took out a small metal box with an antenna emerging from the top. Slowly, he waved it over Sydney and Sark's bodies. There was a long hesitation before he finally said: "No electronics."

Sydney wasn't sure who he was talking to or to whom Sark followed by saying: "We were about to go through another scan going in," he reminded. "This was rather superfluous."

"Maybe," a familiar voice even with an electronic scratch said. Sydney realized there was probably some intercom nearby, probably near one of the cameras. "It doesn't, however, explain why she's here and Irina isn't."

"She is the reason Irina isn't here," Sark told her. "CTU caught Anna, and her file led them to stop Irina. Bauer and Ms. Bristow here must have found data that led them to our rendezvous point. They killed most of my team, but I managed to grab Sydney and take her prisoner."

"And you thought what? That coming back here with half the US government on your tail was a good idea?"

"I've worked with you long enough to know that not giving you what you want is less pleasant than federal custody," Sark pointed out. "I figured better to show up with part of what you needed and a plan to get the rest was better than leaving you completely in the lurch."

"I warned you about disappointing me," Even through a speaker, the coldness in Sloane's voice was unmistakable. "Why shouldn't I just take Sydney myself and kill you anyway?"

"Because I got you one third of the formula, just a different third. And you need me to get Irina and Isabelle before the deadline passes."

There was a long pause. Sydney had begun to wonder if they were going to shoot her anyway, when Sloane spoke. "Let them in."

"You sure about this?" one of the man said.

"Make sure the scanner is on, but let them in."

The three gunmen arranged themselves so that there was on each side of Sydney and Sark, and one behind them. They slowly advanced to the front door. When they got there a red light quickly scanned them over a period of several seconds before turning green.

"Thank you for having faith in us," Sark said as the door opened.

"Trust has nothing to do with it," Sloane said. "I've got a schedule to keep."

And once again Sydney was standing in front of the man who had haunted her nightmares for years.

Arvin Sloane was alive and well He sat behind the main desk of the lobby as though he were back at APO. His entire body was focused towards projecting absolute tranquility, and the front was impenetrable to anyone who didn't know him. His beady maroon eyes flickered occasionally over Sydney's body, the only hint that there was anything wrong behind them. His slender, elegant fingers were steepled before him, giving a forced image of contemplation—although most people back at APO thought of it as simple scheming. His short and wiry body only held a hint of tension.

"Hello, Sydney. I feel obliged to point out that the reports of my death were..." he smiled, his eyes alight with a demented fire, "premature."

10:47:22/10:47:23/10:47:24/10:47:25

Jack looked up from his high-powered binoculars. "I count four men at the front door, and two more sweeping the perimeter." He turned to Vaughn, who was holding a Marshall-patented infrared scanner. "That ready yet?"

"Hold on a second." He focused the device so that it was level—or as level as they could get from this distance—with the ground floor. "I'm picking up nine heat signatures just outside the hall. Assuming that we're counting the guards that just brought Sydney and Sark in, that means four more on the inside."

"What about the upper floors?"

Vaughn looked at the device. "I'm going to try from a different position." He walked to the far eastern side of the beach that was at the limits of the radius of Sloane's electronics. He pressed a couple of buttons.

"Anything?"

"I can't tell," Vaughn shook his head in frustration.

"Could you have a better read if we moved closer?" Jack asked.

"There's a lot of electronic interference," he told both of the Jacks who were with him, "and even if we were nearer to the hotel, I'm not sure that Marshall's device would be able to operate so that we could get a bead unless we were at a higher position."

"Wonderful," Jack said. "I guess the next step is to start building castles."

"What did you expect?" Mr. Bristow said, looking up from the radio. "Sloane didn't choose this place by accident. He wanted to make sure that he had all his options covered. Sark has to have known that as well."

"We don't even know if Sloane is in there," Jack pointed out. "Right now, all we have is Sark's word, and a voice on the telephone, which we all know could have been faked.."

Vaughn looked at Jack. "You're now doubting what you heard?" he asked. "This is an awful lot of manpower and electronics for a bluff."

"I have no doubt that somehow Sloane's behind this plot," Jack told him. "This is too elaborate a setup for it not to be. But if this place isn't his base of operations, as Sark says, what the fuck is he using it for?"

10:51:14/10:51:15/10:51:16

Ironically, at that very moment the exact same question was running through Sydney's mind. However, there were other, more pressing problems to deal with.

"I'm a little hurt," Sloane said as he walked towards Sydney and Sark. "All the years we've known each other, I finally turn up again, and you have nothing to say me?"

Sydney made certain to keep her eyes locked on Sloane while taking in the entire lobby with her peripheral vision. It was a standard hotel lobby—filled with tables, couches, vases, overstuffed armchairs for lounging. If she didn't get take out Sloane here and now, any shootout would be a nightmare.

"What would you have me tell you?" Sydney asked rhetorically. "Jack Bauer told me that he'd dropped you off a building in Russia a little more than a year ago. Since then, I'd hoped and prayed that had finally been enough to get rid of you." She looked at her arch-nemesis. "I guess I should have known better than to take stock in hopes and prayers."

"How odd you should think that," Sloane said calmly. "Because what I have labored on for all these years, what I've been trying to help bring about today, is the realization of mankind's greatest dreams."

"You're planning to slaughter billions of people to bring about immortality for a precious few," Sydney told him "Only in that twisted corkscrew excuse for your mind could that be translated as any kind of dream."

Sloane shook his head. "I'd hoped you would understand," he said sadly. "I'd wish that you would be able to share in my dream."

"Again, only in your twisted little brain is that considered a dream and not a nightmare. You were willing to kill my daughter in order to bring all this about," Sydney said angrily. "And if the information on that data file is to be believed, you'd have been willing to open my veins in order to achieve it. Only someone who has no understanding of love or compassion could think I would willingly participate."

As always, Sloane absorbed these wounds of his character with the same stoicisms he reserved for everything else. Instead, he turned his attention to the other person in the room that he had made sure his guards still had their guns trained on.

"This is what you bring me?" he demanded of his second-in-command. "I give you all of this power and access, and this is all you can manage? I should have killed you hours ago."

Sydney took a certain satisfaction when Sark began to break out into a sweat for the first time.

"I've done everything you asked for," he reminded Sloane. "We retrieved the virus, the Premier's dead, racial tensions are spinning out of control, the world's on the brink of nuclear confrontation—"

"All of which does me no good if that takes place before the blood-letting," Sloane reminded Sark. "And where are we there? Where is Irina? Where is Sydney's daughter?"

Sark managed to regain some of his footing. "I can't help it if the people you insisted I hire for this job turned out to be incompetent," he told his boss.

"Yes, I do seem to be having trouble finding good help," Sloane said coldly. "And since the people I've hired seem to keep falling into the government's hands, maybe I should preempt them from getting a hold of you."

As tempted as Sydney was to let this scenario play out, she could tell this might be her best opportunity. She swung around, bringing her knee up into Sark's crotch, and twisted back, throwing Sark across the room into Sloane.

The guards whirled around, but were slow to reach for their weapons; Sydney figured because they were unwilling to kill the sacrifice.

She leapt behind the nearest couch to be out of sight when they changed their minds.

"I've got some movement on the first floor!" Vaughn shouted. "Looks like some kind of fight!"

"I heard gunfire!" Jack told them. "Sydney's taking action. We have to rush the place now!"

"We don't have proper backup or firepower and there at least four or five heavily armed sentries in the doorway!" Sydney's father told them. "We go into that, we'll get slaughtered, and Sark and Sloane will probably escape."

Jack had already considered this. "We still have the weaponry from your vehicle," he said slowly. "I've got a maneuver that might be able to get us in."

Despite how it looked, Sydney never dodged a bullet. Being faster than a speeding bullet while not being Superman was beyond even someone with Rimbaldi's technology.

However, she was always faster than the person pulling the trigger.

Two guards circled around the couch, and she pushed off her feet.

She landed next to the left side of the guard on her left, , landing just outside of his gun arm. As he tried swinging his gun her direction, she grabbed his wrist, stopping the motion, and yanked him towards her, slamming her palm behind his ear as he went down. She followed with him as the other guard opened fire, and she let his body absorb the impacts as she grabbed his gun.

Sydney swung the gun up and put a bullet neatly through the other guard's head.

"You idiots!" Sark shouted. "You want to bring CTU right to our doorstep?!"

Sloane now realized what was happening. "So that's how you managed to get Sydney." Arvin casually raised his weapon. "I should have known better than to trust someone who switches sides as often as you."

Sark was about protest when suddenly a small bullet hole appeared in Sloane's chest.. He turned to face Sydney, and fell flat on the floor as she fired once more, discouraging the other guards from taking a shot at Sark.

"Sark! Get over here unless you really think Sloane's guys are feeling charitable."

Sark reached out and snatched the pistol from the floor, then rolled from his position next to Sydney's couch, and scrambled to crouch next to her.

Sydney fired three more shots, then looked to Sark, muzzle pointed right between his eyes. "Now you don't have anymore leverage. You're going to tell me where those vials are and how to stop them from being delivered."

Despite everything that had happened in the past ten minutes, Sark actually seemed a little bemused. "It's never that simple." He nodded towards the other side of the couch. "Take a look at Arvin."

Sydney slowly rose, her line of sight just overing over the couch...and felt her legs turn rubbery. The blood that had been forming around the hole was pooling and clotting. The actual hole seemed to be shrinking.

And then she felt the muzzle of Sark's gun against the back of her head. "He's going to be pissed when he gets his strength back."

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