In The Air Tonight, Part 22
- - -
Jack Bristow did not take kindly to being ordered around by anyone, least of all a subordinate. "I think I can manage," he concluded dryly. "Tell me about Irina."
Vaughn grabbed a pair of socks from his dresser and carried them and his suit to the bed, plopping down heavily upon it. "Like I said, she was here. I got home and took a shower. I don't know if she had already infiltrated the apartment or if it was while the water was running. She approached me after I was already in bed."
Considering that Vaughn knew Jack was most likely still quite touchy about the 'SpySex' tape, he tactfully left out the fact he was naked.
"Yes, go on," Jack prompted.
Vaughn balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder again while he slipped a sock on each foot. "One minute I was trying to fall asleep, and the next thing I knew, I had a 9mm pointed at my chest. I had no time to react."
"Understood. Then what?"
"She secured my wrist to the bedpost, effectively keeping me a hostage while she explained the reason for her visit."
"Which was?" Jack asked.
"She revealed that, after reading the completed manuscript, she became aware that Sydney was in danger," Michael explained.
"Sydney's in danger? Yes, probably by Irina herself, and this is her way of camouflaging it…" Jack deduced coldly.
"I don't think so, Jack. Not that I enjoy placing much stock in anything Irina Derevko says, but I must admit that her explanation is thorough, and makes much more sense than any other explanation of the Prophecy I've heard," Vaughn explained.
"I don't think that anything—"
"Jack, Sydney is the woman from the Prophecy. Sloane and the resulting knowledge he will gain from the Rambaldi device is 'the greatest power'," Vaughn insisted.
"We've already proven she isn't the Prophesy woman, or have you forgotten so quickly us breaking her out of federal custody?" Jack carped.
Vaughn slid his blue oxford shirt from the hanger and slid it over his shoulders. Buttoning it, he replied sharply, "No, I haven't forgotten, Jack…thanks for the vote of confidence. No, Irina explained the specifics behind the wording of the Prophecy. I won't get into detail about it now, though. She provided me with a disc that most likely will back up whatever claims she's made to me."
"She gave you a disc," Jack repeated dully.
"Yes, one that she says contains information that must be kept from Sloane."
"Unless the whole thing is an elaborate set up…."
"Yes, unless that," Vaughn qualified impatiently. "Listen Jack, right now I don't need your sarcasm, and I don't need your skepticism. What I need is your help. I think there's some truth to what she's said, but I'll need your assistance proving it one way or the other."
"Why do you think that she would tell you anything besides lies?" asked Jack bitterly.
"Look, I've never seen Irina seem actually upset about anything, but she was last night. She knows how I feel about Sydney and that I'd do anything to protect her. That's why she came to me. Besides, you can't deny she's saved Sydney's life in the past."
"Fine," Jack acquiesced. " But she's also put her in harm's way as many times as she's saved her. She could easily be playing you; using your emotions for Sydney in order to get you to do something she wants. I think to believe anything she says without sufficient evidence to back it up would be a mistake."
"Jack," Vaughn responded, "according to Irina, not only is Sydney the woman from the Prophecy, she will also be the one to activate 'Il Dire'. She will be the one to bind Rambaldi's work."
"Absurd," Jack replied. "There's no way Sydney would help Sloane. She loathes him."
"That's what I said. But, you see, it's because she hates Sloane that she will end up helping him. Think about it… The Prophecy said that the woman would 'bring forth my work, bind them with fury'. It's Sydney's hatred of Sloane that will trigger Il Dire."
"So what you're telling me is that Sydney's thoughts will trigger the device? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Jack scoffed.
"I know it sounds insane, Jack, but we're talking about Rambaldi, here. The guy created synthetic polymers, a suitcase neutron bomb, predicted several world catastrophes with startling accuracy five hundred years ago. Some of his other creations have yet to be understood. Why couldn't he create a machine powered by thought?" Vaughn tried to reason.
Jack didn't answer. Instead he asked, "So what did Irina suggest you do to stop this from occurring?"
"Well…" Vaughn had a feeling that Jack would not like what he was about to say, "one of two things. Either we catch Sloane with the device before he tries to activate it…"
"…Which isn't very likely," Jack interrupted.
"Right. Or else…" Vaughn's voice trailed off uncomfortably.
"Or else what?" Jack insisted.
"Or else Sydney would need to stay heavily sedated so as not to activate the machine," Vaughn finished.
There was silence on the line for a minute before Jack sputtered, "That is…out of the question!"
"Hey, I'm not exactly thrilled about the possibility either, you know!" Vaughn spit back. "I don't like it any more than you do…but can we really afford not to until we find out whether Irina's intel is accurate? What if she's right and we didn't do something to try to prevent it?"
"And what if she just wants Sydney out of the way for a while so she can complete whatever self-serving mission she's on? Do you want to live with the idea that you helped your father's killer ascend into power?" Jack demanded.
"How about you?" Vaughn countered. "Do you want to live with the idea that you helped the man who killed your daughter's fiancé and her best friend ascend into the greatest power?"
"Vaughn, she has a serious concussion, from which she has yet to awaken. Prophecy or no Prophecy, I am not going to risk Sydney's life further by instructing her physician to sedate her." The note of finality in Jack's voice was clear. He would not be persuaded right now, no matter what Vaughn said or did.
"What if I can give you the proof you need?" Vaughn asked. "If I can somehow prove to you that Sydney is the Prophecy woman and is in danger? Will you then consider it?"
"If you can provide me with reputable proof that Irina's theory is correct, I will consider the course of action you've suggested," Jack accepted.
"And you'll let me know the minute Sydney's condition changes?" Vaughn insisted.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
Without further comment, Jack hung up.
Vaughn hung up as well, tossing his phone aside so he could use both hands to slip on his pants. Looking over his shoulder at his alarm clock while slipping a dark blue tie around his neck, he muttered "Damn!" under his breath. The clock said 7:18. It would take him a minimum of 10 minutes to finish getting ready, and it took, on a good day, at least 25 minutes to get to the Ops Center. And he had a feeling that, with the luck he'd had so far this morning, it would not be a good day. There was no way around it: he was going to be late for work.