In The Air Tonight, Part 11
- - -
Rounding the corner of the nurses' desk, Michael Vaughn was surprised to see Eric Weiss waiting for him.
"Hey, man," said Weiss enthusiastically, smacking Vaughn on the back. "Good to see you up and around again."
"Thanks," Vaughn replied as they continued to walk down the hallway away from the emergency room. "How's Will?"
"Still in surgery. But the good news is that even with all the blood loss, he's still alive. If he survives the surgery, the doctors believe he will make it," Weiss explained.
"You just find this out?" Vaughn asked, moving so fast despite his wound that Weiss had to half-run to keep up with him.
"No, I've known for about 15 minutes," Weiss answered, panting. He grabbed Vaughn by the arm and pulled him to a stop. "Hey, where's the fire?"
"I've got to see Sydney," he answered.
"Jack's up there with her; she's safe."
Vaughn nodded and started walking again. "Hey, weren't you supposed to report back to him?"
"Yeah."
"Then why didn't you?" Vaughn asked. "I mean, not that I'm not grateful that you waited for me, but…"
"I wasn't going back up there alone! Mike, you haven't been around Jack the last couple hours! He's been more cranky than a caged, bee-stung bear!" Weiss complained.
Vaughn raised an eyebrow. "And that's new?"
Eric huffed, "No, Mike, you don't understand! He's about ten times worse than normal. I rode to the hospital with him?" Weiss put a hand over his heart. "Took ten years off my life, man. I swear…"
"Maybe he's just worried about Sydney," Vaughn suggested, stopping before the elevator and pushing the 'up' button.
"Yeah, well, we're all worried about her. That doesn't mean I try to kill myself, and an innocent co-worker along with me, I might add, several times on the way to the hospital!" Weiss complained. "He's got a really warped way of showing concern for someone, you know?"
"Well, Jack Bristow seems to have problems expressing any sort of emotion," Vaughn concurred, stepping into the open elevator bay.
Weiss followed him. "Except for anger. Anger he does reeeeaaaaally well…"
As the elevator doors shut in front of them, Vaughn smirked. "Agreed."
- - -
In the darkened ICU room, Jack Bristow stood, a silent sentinel watching over his daughter. All around him monitors blipped and beeped, and each one was attached to Sydney. Concern was etched into his normally stoic, granite features. In her young life, Sydney had lost so much…too much, it seemed, for any one person to bear. Yet, bear it she did, with so much strength and endurance that it made him incredibly proud to call himself her father, although it was a title he felt sure he didn't deserve.
It had been since before Irina left that he'd been able to truly express the depth of his love to his only child. After "Laura's" disappearance, and his subsequent incarceration, he'd become a hardened shell of the man he once was. Convinced that the only way to protect Sydney was to push her away completely and entirely, he followed this plan to the letter. And it had worked, much better than anticipated. By the time Sydney had reached high school; they were barely on speaking terms…which, while it hurt, had been, in his belief, the best thing for her. She was better off not learning to lean on anyone, not to expect love from anyone, since both only led to betrayal of heart and mind.
It had only been in the last two years, since Sydney had found out the truth about SD-6 and joined forces with him to destroy it, that he had truly learned the depth of what he had lost years ago. His plan had failed; he had not been able to protect her from the kind of life he led. All he had done was leave his precious daughter vulnerable. He had allowed a monster like Arvin Sloane to fill voids in her life that never should have been there. He had caused her to reach out to others to receive a poor substitute of the unconditional love he felt but hadn't shared. He had placed her in the clutches of evil because he was too afraid to give and receive love again.
Staring down at his little girl, so pale and still in the bed, made him feel unexpectedly furious and, of all things, helpless. He had done everything in his power to protect Sydney from harm. He'd begged, borrowed, and stole; he'd tortured, murdered, and deceived, and, in the end, all it did was postpone this moment. Jack Bristow, Senior CIA Field Agent, master strategist, always in control, could not save his own daughter; could not outthink the enemy in time. He fought the sudden urge to put his fist through the wall; he didn't think the duty nurse would appreciate his redecorative efforts.
The sudden chiming from Jack's cell phone seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Reaching into his coat's inside breast pocket, he retrieved the phone and punched the "talk" button. "Bristow," Jack answered irritably.
"Jack…?" was the low, sultry reply.
Jack physically bristled in response to the voice. "What in hell do you want, Irina?" he asked, his voice dripping with hatred.
"I want to know how Sydney is, Jack. I would think you would know that," came Irina's straightforward response. "She is, after all, my daughter."
"You gave up your right to call her your daughter thirty years ago," Jack informed Irina coldly. "Where the hell are you!?"
"That is not something you need to know," Irina responded in her succinct, no nonsense way. "But there is something you do need to know: I had nothing to do with the placement of the double. That was something that was done without my foreknowledge by Sloane and Sark while I was in CIA custody."
Sarcasm oozed from Jack's every pore. "Why do I have a difficult time believing that? You obviously knew enough to ambush Sydney in France to retrieve the intel on the double, and then used that intel to blackmail her into cooperating with you."
"It was the only way to get Sydney to listen to me! She can be as hard-headed and stubborn as her father at times," Irina explained.
"She has nothing on her mother," Jack returned.
"Jack….stop trying to insult me and listen for a moment! Use your head! I had to make Sloane and Sark believe I was sticking to the plan, while still being able to give Sydney the information she needed to save her friend. I needed to have something to hold over her in order to make her listen, in order to give her the information about the whereabouts of Sloane."
"Intel which turned out to be a set-up," Jack concluded. "You can try to convince Sydney that you have her best interests at heart, but your act no longer works on me. The only interests you care about are your own." Jack's tone changed from angry to mocking. "I haven't figured out your game yet, Irina, but you can be sure that once I do, you will pay for all you've done. I warned you once about involving Sydney in your endgame. Obviously you didn't take my warning seriously. A time will come when you will wish you did."
Irina sighed impatiently. "Jack, now is not the time to trade barbs…there is too much at stake. Sydney's life is at stake."
"Yes, it is, thanks to you," Jack seethed.
"Jack, you must listen to me!" Irina insisted. "Sydney is in grave danger."
"She will be under 24 hour surveillance; I will personally oversee her protection. I will make sure she is safe, despite your efforts…"
"You don't understand. What I told Sydney in Mexico City is the truth; she is the woman of the Prophesy, not me. I have spent many years attracting attention to myself, collecting Rambaldi artifacts, so as to mislead Sloane. But he knows; somehow he now knows that I am not the One. He must have deduced that it is Sydney."
Jack started to respond, but Irina cut him off. "The Rambaldi device, Il Dire…I tried to get Sydney to go after Sloane, to retrieve it before it was too late, but she would not. Instead she followed me and he got away. Once Il Dire is activated, something terrible will happen to Sydney. Armed guards and bullets will not protect her, Jack." Irina explained forcefully.
Jack's patience ran out. "I have had enough of your games, Irina. This conversation is finished."
Irina frantically tried to stop Jack from hanging up. "Jack…No, Jack…wait!" But it was too late; he was already gone.
"Damn it!" Irina cursed, smashing her cell phone against the wall in frustration. As much as she had hoped that she could make Jack see reason, she should have known it wouldn't work.
Now she knew she had no choice; time was of the essence. With her hand tipped and her duplicity known to her enemies, she had run out of options. There was only one move left she could make…the one that could save—or curse—them all.