I.C.E.
by soft_killer

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these brilliant characters. Not even the lady i'm going to call Agent for now. There will be an OC later and she is all mine!!! HA! anyway...

SUMMARY: Sloane has a new organization, a new agent, and a new mission. Will Irina's plans stop him? Will Sydney recognize her role in all of this and be stong enough to save her love?

SPOILERS: only if you haven't seen all of Season One and Season Two. This is basically my ideas of Season Three.

RATING:PG or PG-13. I'm not sure which quite yet. Later chapters will decide that fact.

feedback will be gratefully loved!!


Chapter One

Agent POV


Running for my life is something I have gotten used to. I wish it wasn’t so but...that couldn’t be helped. And now I find myself doing it once again. Stark white walls leave blurs in my vision and I to go faster. I think I've left my nemesis behind but I'm not sure.

I hate high heels. They make so much noise when I’m trying to be unheard. Why does Sloane insist on these ridiculous outfits? True, they work, but they are just not practical. The red mini is hampering my strides. I’m tempted to just shed it, but that would take too long.

Finally, I see my break. The ladder to the restricted floor is in a niche on my right. I take aim and slam the lock with the barrel of my gun. Ripping the door open, I find another reason to hate high heels. They have no grip at all.

Using my arms to leaver me up through the manhole, I swing up but slip and land flat on my back. Damn! I can hear the echo of his steps through the floor. I thought he was farther behind. Well, no place like here to make my last stand. I maneuver my body around and take careful aim through the manhole.

As I lie in wait my mind slips back to the day I got myself into this business. It was a regular boring day at the county library. I was behind the counter as usual when a sandy blond haired young man stepped up with his books.

I started to check them out and wasn’t paying attention to him but his words soon caught my attention.

“You know, I’ve been watching you for the past few months.”

Ok, I know I’m not that bad looking but this guy was definitely taking it a bit to far.

“You fit a certain profile almost perfectly.”

Now he’s just being corny. Unfortunately, I am not one graced with a mind to think up stinging comebacks.

“Not interested.” I reply.

He chuckles a little. It’s annoying in that accent.

“I beg your forgiveness, you misunderstand me. My boss only hires people that fit a certain profile. I’ve been watching you and you are almost a perfect match. If this life gets to dull for you, give us a call. The CIA can always use new agents.”

He slips a business card face down on the counter as he takes his books, give me an amused smile and leaves.

Needless, to say. I did call. And now I work for a man named Sloane. I really don’t like him all that well. He’s ok I guess. I mean, he did apologize for the fake CIA story.

Once I heard the truth about his organization, he told me I still had a choice if I would agree to training or not. I’d already made up my mind I was in, and the fact that I got the impression from him that it wouldn’t be good for my health if I refused, pushed me to sign on.

After 7 months of training in all manners of things spy, Sloane called me to his desk and handed me my first mission.

I pulled the top sheet of paper out of the manila folder. As my brain registered the one line and a slow smile crept over my face.

Seduce Michael Vaughn.

Now, as I wait for my pursuer’s body to appear through the opening, I think that that day was the beginning of the end of my life.

~~~

hey people. ive already posted this on SD-1 under the name of kriz-te. but i thought id post it over here too for you people as well. if you want more tell me so!

Yes, you can keep posting it. I liked it the first time I read it. :reallyexcited: Trouble with following it on the other site was so many people kept interrupting (ha ha) the train of thot I was using to keep the story straight. It's a damn good story. :D You might not get as many responses. So what? Who cares? Just keep the chapters coming.

B)

ah you dont know how relived i am to hear that! i was like...hey...no one was responding so i didnt want to waste my time...but ive got 9 views! so....chap 2 and 3 comin up...

I.C.E.
Chapter Two

Agent POV


I am so glad Sloane has let us use the private jet for this mission. I need the solitude after that close call. Sadly, I did not kill Sark. But at least I wounded him severely enough to keep him from coming after me. The bullets I left in his legs and shooting arm should keep him out of the game for awhile.

Looking out of the large cabin windows at the lights of LA as they grow on the horizon I experience as close to a sense of peace as a spy can. Right now, I have no worries. I am alive. Sark is hurt. I am safe and returning unscathed to my husband.

Michael. I smile as I think of our complicated past. How long did I honestly hate him for what he did? He left me after 2 years of being together for someone at work. At the time I had a hunch it was Rita.

That hurt badly. I had tried so hard to keep us together but he just didn’t want to make it work. So I let him go and grew bitter. Bitter against him and that Rita girl. What did she have that I didn’t? Now I know, but then it was a hard pill to swallow.

A few months after that and I accidentally on purpose ran into him at a bar. Wouldn’t you know, we both got drunk and that night...I smile. I had been to long without him. I had vowed to myself to fight for him this time. Then I noticed he wasn’t quite the same Michael I had known before. He was even more preoccupied. Finally, he just flat out told me we were over and that we had been for a long time. I think it was then the bitterness turned to hate.

I found out the truth when I read that first and ongoing mission folder. My precious Michael had never worked for the State Department. He was CIA. His friend from work wasn’t named Rita. She was a double agent named Sydney Bristow and she was his agent.

It didn’t take me long to put two and two together and everything fell into its proper place in my mind. I was furious. He had lied to me the whole time! Sydney had lied to me and she hadn’t even known me. Then they made love behind my back.

I had really looked forward to taking him out from under her nose then I read some good news. Sydney was gone. Presumed dead. Oh, how happy that made me!

But as I had worked on gaining him back with my newfound skills, something happened that I did not expect. I fell back in love with Michael Vaughn. The bitterness and hate are gone along with Sydney.

The 10 minutes until landing has just been announced by our pilot. Shaken from my reverie, I pull out the object Slone had sent us to recover. It had been hidden by him in an unwary research lab in Peru. He rarely tells his agents what these vials are for, he just send us to get them.

The old glass and metal bottle full of clear liquid reminds me of a bottle of tears and it sends me back into my thoughts. The first time I ever saw Michael cry was the day I had “innocently” stopped by his house and I found him utterly devastated.

I had honestly thought winning him back would be easy, but watching him struggle with his grief, I realized he had really felt deeply for this woman. He ignored his friend Weiss when he had tried to help so Weiss asked me to try. As I took care of him, he wormed his way back into my heart.

Now, I am heading home to him and my heart could not be fuller. I honestly don’t know why he proposed. He said that since I had been there for him he had slowly come to realize just how much I meant to him. I have a feeling he unconsciously considers me second best though. Which tells me the bitterness and hate may still be lurking somewhere.

I had told Michael I would have to think about it and reported the event to Sloane the next day. I desperately wanted to accept right away and make him mine. He is so noble and honorable he wouldn’t dare take it back, even if Sydney miraculously showed up again.

I had to wait and ask Sloane because I didn’t know if this was something he would condone. He might think it would get in the way of my loyalties to him. But Sloane surprised me and told me to go ahead and answer whatever I wanted. My job was simply to get close and stay close. He would tell me what he specifically wanted with Michael when the time was right.

So I said yes.

The seatbelt lights come back on and I reach to secure my buckle. I glance across the stylish cabin. In the seat on the opposite side there sits another surprise. My ICE field-op partner. He is an interesting person. He also has a past with Sydney and it seems we are both in the similar boats. He doesn’t know that I know about it though. I hacked the system and read his file. With Sloane’s private permission, of course.

This is only the second mission we have been on and it seems we work really well together. I wonder how much he knows about Sloane and ICE. He probably knows as much as I do but even us top-level agents are not allowed to talk among ourselves about it.

Danny looks back and smiles at me. He is already typing out his report. I should be doing mine, instead I’ve just been remembering.

The plane lands on the private, deserted landing strip. It only takes a few minutes to get my luggage and put it in the trunk of my waiting ice blue BMW Z3. At least Sloane is original in his choice of standard issue cars. I leave the hood up and turn on the radio but its just commercials right now so I flip it off again.

Driving home gives me more time to reflect. My cover with Michael is that I work for a publishing firm. I’m a publicist and I meet with our little known clients. It’s actually a legit job. I do enough real work to cover for my occasional missions. Sloane owns the firm but not under his real name of course. ICE owns it and no one knows he’s the guy that runs ICE.

I grin as I think of the prestige our organization has already won. The International Coalition of Emendation. Sloane believes he is going to fix this world. Rimbaldi said it, he believes it. He are getting more involved in legitimate businesses now, as well as the black market world and the world of espionage he are used to.

The United States government has publicly called us a threat to all the countries of the world. Which is true. Sloane is positive he will rule the world. I agree. Picking the winning side has always been a strong trait of mine.

I pull into the driveway of my two story, country-yellow house. Michael’s Land Cruiser is not in the garage like normal. I wonder where he could be. I also wonder how long it will be till I get the word from Sloane to start my gathering of intel.

I do not want to control this man anymore that I already do. Right now I would say I only use my wiles as a woman, and I do not want to use the hypnosis I was trained in. That is very unethical and very unloving. But ethics haven’t stopped me before and I won’t let love cloud my mind. It must be done if I am to help Sloane succeed.

~~~

Sydney POV


I sit across from the love of my life and I cannot absorb the word’s he just uttered.

“What?” I whisper brokenly.

“I’m so sorry. I looked and looked and didn’t sleep for ages but...” He won’t raise his head to meet my eyes.

“You were gone.” He whispers.

“For two years?”

He nods. “Almost.”

I stare at his ring. “Vaughn..”

He looks at me with an expression that breaks my heart even more. I must get this clarified as soon as possible.

“Are you married?”

He looks absolutely miserable as he nods again. There is such a huge lump in my throat. It hurts really bad and the pressure behind my eyes is building so fast. I can barely get the next question out.

“To who?”

He leans forward and puts his head in his hands.

“Alice.” I hear faintly.

The sobs come unbidden. Vaughn just sits across from me as I struggle to get myself under-control. I try to remind myself there are more important things I need to find out but I cannot remember what they are. All I can think of is that the man that mattered most to me is no longer mine.

I.C.E.
Chapter Three

~Sydney POV~

He has made no move to comfort me. I suppose he thinks he can’t. My heart is breaking to so near to him and not be able to touch him. He is even more off-limits now than he was when SD-6 was around.

I blink, swallow, and slow my gasping breaths. Oh, I can’t look at him! The last thing I remember is kissing him and promising to be ready for our weekend in Santa Barbara. His eyes shown with love for me, only me.

How could he get over it so fast? I don‘t want to think about it. If I do, I will only start crying harder and that course will remind me of how he used to comfort me. With his caresses and murmurs. With his assurances and promises.

It’s hard and leaves me a little winded, but I get enough composure back to remember the others things that are important and relevant. I open my mouth to ask for details on Will, but the door to my room opens at the same time.

The man that led me here comes in and behind him come three armed guards. He walks over and talks to Vaughn.

“She needs to leave now.”

“I see.” Vaughn glances at me sideways. “Has Director Kendall arranged for transportation?” He asks.

The short man nods. “Yes. These are the guards he sent. They will take you to the airstrip.” With that he leaves the room.

One guard remains by the door and the other two approach me. One pulls out handcuffs and puts them on my wrists. The other has put a similar pair on my ankles, only the chain is longer so I can walk fairly easily.

“Look here, is that really necessary?” Vaughn objects, standing up.

“Sorry Sir, just following orders.” Comes from the man by the door. He opens it, ready to lead me away.

I guess Kendall hasn’t changed much. The two flank me and pull me up from the bed by my elbows. The guards lead me out the door and through the halls where people look at me with blank faces. They know not to ask questions.

Finally exiting the building, they lead me to a while van. I guess the modes of prisoner transport haven’t changed either.

A fourth guard sits behind the wheel and Vaughn pushes past from behind and hops in the passenger side. I can see him pull out his cell and start dialing. I also notice, there is a wet streak down his cheek.

The two pull me into the back and chain me to the bench. The third slams the metal doors and the driver takes off.

~~~

Vaughn slams the heel of him hand against the dashboard in frustration and a lot of distress.

“With all due respect Sir, I do not think we should treat Agent Bristow like a prisoner!”
He is on the phone with Kendall and he tries to keep the passion out of his voice, but he’s never been able to do that when talking about Sydney.

“Agent Vaughn, do not raise your voice to me! I know you had feelings for Miss Bristow, but you cannot let that get in your way. We do not know where she has been all this time. It is possible she has done things that would give her the status of prisoner rightfully.”

He hates the way Kendall talks to him like he has very little brain cells.

“No! Sir, Sydney would never do anything against this country!” Vaughn grimaces as he waits for Kendall’s response to that statement.

He rubs his forehead and then stops, staring at his ring. Alice really was a nice person, but he’d never been in love with her the way he had been with Sydney. Still was with Syd. This turn of events was tearing him up inside. He jabbed at his eyes, trying to stop another tear from escaping.

Kendall had called him this evening at around sundown and asked him to come into the office, which was unusual. Normally Jack was the one to contact him. Vaughn had known something was up so he made it to the Joint Task Force as soon as possible. He knew Alice would be getting home in a few hours so he wanted this to go a quickly as possible.

Kendall had pulled him into the conference room and handed him a folder. The words he spoke next shook Vaughn to his core.

“Agent Sydney Bristow just called us from Hong Kong. We need you to go get her and bring her back to LA.”

“Syd?” Vaughn had whispered the question, staring at Kendall with wide eyes. “Yes, I suggest you get going Agent Vaughn.”

Vaughn was really irked Kendall had picked him to be the first to make contact with Sydney in 1 year and 9 months. Did Kendall really think he was over her? Kendall knew what the marriage to Alice was really about. Vaughn pulled his mind back to Kendall’s voice over the phone.

“...just do your job Agent!” Kendall barked.

Rather than upset the uptight man anymore, Vaughn conceded. “Yes sir.” He sighed.

“Good.” Then Kendall disconnected.

~Sydney POV~

At least these guards aren’t being rough. They’ve helped me out of the stopped van and I recognize the hidden CIA airstrip. I’ve been through here quite a few times, but this time is for a way different reason. If Kendall’s got me locked up before I get to LA, that can only spell one thing for when I do get back.

They are going to put me through all sorts of tests and therapy and prod over me till I loose my mind. The guards are guiding me before them into the waiting plane. I can hear Vaughn’s footsteps on the tarmac behind me. He sounds frustrated.

This is one of our regular transport planes. One of the nice ones. There are two booth seats on either side and after we pass those, we enter the spacious cabin.

“Pick a seat.” The guard grunts.

“One by a window.” I say. Sheesh, could my voice be any more hoarse?

He points to the nearest one and I sit down. Vaughn has entered and he sits down across the way. The guard undoes my handcuffs and ankle cuffs and moves them so my right wrist and ankle are chained to the seat. He takes his place at the back of the cabin, next to the other guard who went there as soon as I had sat down.

I glance over to Vaughn, who is staring out the window. The forehead wrinkles are very prominent. The plane rumbles beneath us but his expression doesn’t change. Those wrinkles always came out with his concern for me. I wonder, is that still the same? How much has this man changed during our years apart. Being able to read his face is something I'll miss terribly.

This is going to be one long flight.

~~~

well...here you go...an uninterupted two more chapters. ill post some more tomorrow...

This is getting better. You've done a good job of hooking the reader. Keep it up. B)

You've won me forever by using my dream car!!!

This is really great! please keep writting, even if just for me and lenafan!!! It's an amazing story, and all credit to her for pointing me at it! I'm captivated!

This is great!! I'm sooo happy lenafan recommended this to me!!! I also like the choice of the ice blue BMW!! Sweet A* car!! Post more soon!!! :D I'd love a PM when you post more.

looks like im indebted to lenafan for recomending my fic out! :) i shall be happy to give you guys more.

and i know about the car!!! i was like...if i cant have it for real, ill just let one of my characters have it!!

ready for a huge update?

I.C.E.
Chapter Four

~Alice POV~


It has been three hours since I got home. I told him I would be home around 7:30 and its pushing 11 now. Where could he be? This is very unlike Michael. He didn’t even leave a note.

I made supper for us. Nothing fancy, just some pasta, peas, garlic bread, and juice. But it is cold and sitting forlornly on the table. Well, his food does. I gave in to my stomach and ate awhile ago.

Now, I am pacing in the kitchen, looking out the window over the sink. Our garden is out there. I smile at the multiple memories of Michael kneeling in that dirt. I never thought of him as the gardening type, but he surprises me all the time.

The microwave clock blinks 10:45 at me now. I am getting anxious. Is this something that will have a rational explanation or do I need to report this to Sloane? I will anyway, but if Michael’s up to something, the sooner Sloane knows the better.

The garage door rattles the house and a feeling of relief comes over me. He is safe at least. I greet him with open arms as he comes through the door into the kitchen. Studying his face I notice his eyes do not match his expression. His face shows normal work-related tiredness. But his eyes are troubled, haggard, and a little bloodshot.

Michael returns my hug, kissing the side of my neck. He sighs and lets go. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got home.”

“It’s alright.” I purr. No use making him feel guilty. “Where were you?”

“State Department. I got called in this afternoon. One of the lawyers got pneumonia and I have to cover his case.”

I watch him as he walks around the counter to the living room. Dumping his briefcase and jacket on the arm of our sofa, he stretches. “Thank you so much for making food, but I’m not hungry. I ate with Marcus.”

I sigh and break out the Tupperware. He walks down the hall to our room.

“It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed.”

I hear him getting ready, the faucet runs, the drawers slam, the toilet flushes. Such domestic sounds and yet there is nothing simple about this home. I have to guard myself constantly, sure I’ll say something to give away I know about his real work, not his cover as a lawyer for State.

As soon as the kitchen is clean, I turn out the lights, lock the outside doors, and turn on our security system. One never can be to careful I guess.

He left the bathroom light on for me and it lights my way through my bed-time routine. I had hoped to talk with him further. But as I slide in next to him, I see that won’t be the case. His back is to me and his breathing is regular in sleep.

I try to cuddle up to him, but as soon as my hand touches his side, he tenses. I am startled and bewildered. Is he really awake after all? Leaning up on my elbow, I check his face and see no, he is asleep. His face screws up in deep emotions I haven’t witnessed there for a long time.

He mutters a few words and my heart stops.

“Syd! So sorry Sydney, Syd?”

My eyes narrow. I thought he had gotten over her. This definitely must be reported to Sloane. I move to my side of bed, as far from my traitor lover as possible. I will NOT be near him while he thinks of that cursed woman.

The night is long because Michael tosses the whole time. It disturbs me as well. Something has happened to him today and it has changed him.

~Sydney POV~


The flight home did seem to take forever. And for most of the time, Vaughn kept his silence. But I wanted him to tell me about what I have missed. He didn’t tell me much. I still need to know more, I want to move on from the pain of loosing him and I can only do that if I have other important things to keep my mind focused on.

The only question he answered with more that two words was the one I asked about how they found I was missing.

*little flashback*
“I told you I was going to pick you up after my debrief.” He answers softly, a little of the Vaughn I used to know peeking through. I can tell he does not want to cause me pain, maybe a little of his love for me does exist. But despite his gentle tone, my heart twists within and I feel my face contort, trying to hold back tears. That was the night we were going to leave for Santa Barbara.

“You didn’t answer your doorbell, so figured you were just in the shower or something. I walked in anyway, knowing you wouldn’t mind.” He swallowed.

“The place was a wreak, it looked like a tornado and come through. I panicked knowing something was wrong.” I watch his adam's apple bob in another swallow and the lines on his forehead grow pronounced as he goes on.

“I kept calling your name as I wandered through, blindly looking for you. When I spotted Will in the tub, I snapped out of my panic. I called your father and told him what I’d found so far. Then I called 911 after finding Will’s slight pulse....I went into your room next.”

I remember how it had all happened, the fight with Francie, stumbling into Will, thinking I was going to die, but slicing Fran with the glass, and shooting her. My last thought had been of Will. I wanted to go to him, to try and save him, this was yet another thing knowing me had brought into his life. I had to fix that! But my body hadn’t responded. I had slipped into blackness and awoken to something worse than anything before. I jump out of my reverie as I hear Vaughn start to continue. His voice is raspy.

“I found Allison dead....”

“Allison?

“Yeah, that was the double’s real name.” I’m glad I know that. It was hard, calling that deceitful woman but my friend’s name. It was worse than fighting my friend’s face.

“She had been shot, we assumed by you.” I nod my head, but he is still looking out the window.

“The mirror was shattered and we found the gun amongst the glass fragment. Your blood was all over the place and your jacket and shoes were lying there as well. But of you, we found to trace. There were nothing, no clues whatsoever about how you had disappeared. It was like you had evaporated.” He closed his mouth and I knew no more was going to come forth tonight.

So I sat the rest of way mulling different things over. Anything, pertinent to my old life or not, so long as it kept my mind off the man a few feet over.
*end*

I’m still doing a pretty good job of keeping my mind of him. Which I guess is a lie because the fact that I am thinking about not thinking about him means I am thinking about him. I’m just thinking myself in circles here. He left for home as soon as we landed and all he did was look at me finally with this strange look that I couldn’t read and say “See you later.”

After the plane ride and arrival at the strip in LA, I was handcuffed again, carted in a white van again, sent through all sorts of tracking device detectors, metal detectors, electronic scanners, and radiation detectors. They took a blood sample and a urine sample. I swear, I am going to let Kendal have it when I see him.

Then they brought me here, this is the thing that really infuriates me, to be held in my mother’s old cell. Just brought me and dumped me and I haven’t seen another human for an hour or so.

The camera’s are blinking their little green and red lights at me. I wonder who is watching me from the other side. I can’t believe they would put me in the same cell as that woman. Is it a sign of what they now think I am?

There are so many questions I want answered. How has the search for Sloane gone? Is he dead or alive? Vaughn said Will was ok, but how? What has happened to him these past years? Where was I? Oh god! What if they’ve seen me do things that I don‘t remember doing?!

That must be it. I must have been taken by Sloane, brainwashed, and forced to work for him, and flaunted to the CIA. Therefore, the CIA must think I’ve turned. The fact that scares me is I don’t know if that’s true or not! I must have been doing some sort of fighting. Besides a new scar on my stomach, since being in this cell, I’ve found one on my right shoulder and one on my left hip. Both small but recent.

I wish I could talk to my dad! He’d listen to me...unless he thinks I’m following in my mother‘s footsteps. Where is he? What has he been up to? And Dixon? and Marshall? Marshall had a crush on Carrie last I knew. What has happened there? and Weiss! Did he encourage Vaughn to go on and forget me when they couldn’t find a trace? I guess I should say IF they couldn’t find a trace. Did Vaughn’s love for me die while he watched me do horrible things that I can’t remember?

No longer crying for just the loss of Vaughn, I am crying for the loss of two years of my life. Two years that I should have been fighting for good, instead I might have been fighting for evil.

~~~


In the main room of the Joint Task Force a grizzled old man stood stiffly watching surveillance videos. The young woman sitting alone in the cell had started sobbing and it broke his heart he could do nothing about it.

As Jack watched his daughter just as many questions flowed through his head as had been flowing through hers. The truth was there had been so sign of her for the one year and nine months he had been searching. And out of the blue she called and asked to come in. Kendall was right to be cautious but forbidding any contact with Sydney unless authorized by him was a bit to much.

He wondered what had happened in those years to make her cry so hard upon her return. Well, since when was he one to follow the rules! Jack turned and walked crisply down the hall to the access gates.

As he walked, his mind still churned. Mostly with frustration for Kendall. Did Kendall really think Jack had grown soft while Sydney was gone? Did he really think Jack would break down upon the arrival of his long-lost daughter? Jack was sure of it. Every word that man spoke alluded to an incompetence on Jack’s part.

But Jack knew better. If he had been growing soft it had been when his daughter had been around. The time without Sydney had forced him to reevaluate his life strongly. He had become even more closed off and reclusive. No one got around Jack Bristow’s defenses. Even Barnett had given up on him. He had lived with one purpose only. To make Sloane and Irina pay.

Now, the one person who ever had gotten around the wall’s he’d built after Laura “died”, was sitting in her mother’s cell, looking more broken than ever before. And he was so confused, not willing to give in quite yet to the heartstrings the sight of his daughter pulled.

Jack put his card key in the access slot and let the computer take his fingerprint. The gates started to rumble up and to the side as he was cleared and he walked down the hall.

She looked so broken, so defeated. He stood quietly in front of the window, waiting for her to notice him. She was stretched out on the cot, her arms folded around her body and her legs curled up together. She made no move to cover her face or wipe away the tears streaming from her closed eyes. It was awhile but Jack finally saw her chest stop heaving, her arms relax. She blinked, then opened her eyes wide as she saw him standing there.

“Dad!” She cried out, her voice sounding strangled.

Jack wondered at the mix of relief, reserve, love, and anger that was evident in her eyes.

I.C.E.
Chapter Five


Breezes rustled the palm tree branches and scattered the loose white sand of the beach in little flurries against the posts holding up the beach house’s deck. Just a few feet away lay the calm jade ocean. Small waves lapped at the shore and curled around a woman's sophisticated ankles.

She was standing still, letting the waves bury her feet in the sand. Her loose gray sweatpants fluttered in the breezes, the hems damp. She had her arms crossed over her white tank top to ward against any sudden chills. Her long red-brown hair blew behind her and her deep brown eyes squinted against the setting sun, balanced on the horizon.

This was her stronghold, her fortress, her home. She had bought it after she had escaped the US and gone through the motions of being a loyal KGB agent quitting her job for psychological reasons. She had disappeared and come here to recovered her purpose. She had also come here to bring Jack’s second daughter into the world.

She had stayed only as long as was necessary to birth Paris and get back in shape. Then she had gone and founded her own organization. Many times during her role as “the Man”, she had taken “business trips” and come back to spend a few days with her growing daughter and leave new instructions with the nanny. But after that deception had ended she had gone through her CIA captivity and her plot with Sloane.

Irina made sure that Paris knew the truth from the beginning. Paris understood her mother’s prolonged absences. The nanny became her teacher as well and she was taught self-defense and weaponry. She could speak as many languages as her mother. Paris also had the temper of her father and the looks of her mother. She was definitely a Bristow woman.

Irina shifted her feet out of the wet sand and started pacing across the beach, deep in thought.

Although most people thought she worked with others or was loyal to others, her only loyalties had ever been to herself. And she would never harm her family. Little hurts were necessary and although the things she did seemed like betrayals, they weren’t. They only seemed that way because Jack and Sydney did not have access to the same information she did. Hurt them? Yes, she‘d had to. Harm them? Never.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to still her inner troubles. But it didn’t work. Her best agent lay inside her house with gunshot wounds that would keep him out of service for at least a month...more like two. And there was no one else she could trust with his duties. She wished for a moment she had not sent her daughter back to the CIA.

But that was a foolish wish. Sydney needed to be exactly where she was, in the condition she was, and both of them knew it. Well, Sydney had forgotten it. Her memories of Irina, Paris, and the beach house were gone. But she would remember eventually. Irina would help remind her.

For now, Irina focused on the immediate problem. Sark had reported the ICE agents had retrieved the vial. Irina cursed under her breath. That made 9 that Sloane had recovered before her. Irina thought about the final prophecy Rimbaldi had written. Very few people knew about it and Irina only knew because her prophecy had to do with it.

Instead of page 47 being blank, there were 47 blank pages. And each page required a different liquid compound to bring out the ink.

She knew Sloane had the prophecy but she had no idea where he had hidden it. What Sloane didn’t have was the prophecy that pointed to her as the one who would bring the words to the surface.

It explained the vials and how to figure out which vial to use with which page. Irina knew the pages would make no sense unless all were exposed. Even if only one page was left blank, it would not be clear. So she focused on getting as many vials as she could. Then she would focus on getting the Prophecy of the End of the World out of Sloane’s grasp.

So far she had collected 19. She did not know how many Slone had, besides the 9, and that fact unsettled her. Her agent in ICE knew where they were kept but he could not get in to count them. Or to steal them. Frustration was beginning to set in for her.

Irina stopped her pacing and began the walk up the beach, back to her house. One more night of plotting and hammering out details, then she could really get the ball rolling.

~~~

Jack watched with his poker face as his daughter swung herself off her bed and came to stand in front of him. Her face had been wiped blank as well, as if she was unsure how to react to him.

“Where have you been?” Jack figured he might as well get down to the issue.

Sydney pulled back, a puzzled look now on her face. “Kendall didn’t tell you?”

Jack shook his head. “Since when does Kendall willingly let me in on things?”

“I wouldn’t know.“ She paused. “I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember what?”

“Where I’ve been!” Her voice took on a frantic note.

“Almost two years somewhere and I can’t remember a thing! I passed out after the fight and then I wake up two years later! Black, that’s all that is there. Black, black and more black.”

Jacks eyes were thoughtful as he watched her pace round the cell, her voice hard and desperate, flinging her hands in emphasis.

“Boom! I wake up in Hong Kong. HONG KONG of all places! No idea why. Was I on a mission for someone I don’t remember? Was I doing things that I normally wouldn’t?” She stopped in front of her dad and glared at him.

“You tell me! Where have I been? What have I been doing?” She kept her voice controlled and pointed.

Jack was startled. She honestly didn’t know. There was no way she could be acting the pain and loss and fury he saw. He shifted not knowing what to say and looked at the ceiling, looking for words.

“You don’t know either, do you?” Sydney said softly and resigned. She sighed and turned to go back and sit on the bed. Balanced on the edge, her hands tucked between her knees.

Jack leaned his hands on the glass and told her his side of the story.

“Vaughn called me that night after his debrief, said he’d found Tippin injured and the place a wreak. When I got there, an ambulance was taking care of Tippin and Vaughn was frantic.” Jack paused, thinking how best to condense into a few sentences the time the whole station had spent looking for her. Time they needed to have concentrated on finding Sloane.

But there had been no solid clues and tiny leads that dead-ended. By the time they had begun to totally focus on Sloane again, ICE had been founded and was up and running. Neither Kendall nor Jack could understand how Sloane got his fingers in as many pies as he had so quickly. Now they were hard pressed to try and gain a foothold inside his organization. All agents they had tried to set up for double duty had gone missing. Presumed dead.

“There were no clues, few leads. You’d disappeared. We spent six months focusing on trying to find you, but nothing worked.” Jack went on quieter. “And I’ve spent the whole year and nine months since that night trying to find you.”

Sydney stared. The JTF spent SIX months just focusing on her? Jack responded to the question in her eyes.

“Yes. Sydney, you were one of the top agents in the whole CIA. They weren’t about to let you slip away easily.”

Sydney‘s eyes narrowed with concern. “But I did.” She looked away and then looked back, weary.

“Thank you for not giving up.” She said, peering straight in his eyes. Jack let himself grace her with a tiny smile. He sensed rightly that she appreciated his constant efforts more than the search by the CIA.

Jack also added another reason to hate Kendall to his mental list. The man had sent Vaughn to bring her home when he knew perfectly well about the two agents history.

“Dad? Could you get me a blanket and a pillow?” Jack swallowed and Sydney shifted, the echo of Irina’s past request/blackmail present in both of their minds.

He nodded and spoke. “I’ll do what I can.” He turned to leave and then paused.

“I love you.” he whispered. Sydney smiled a small, grateful smile as he walked out through the rattle of the bars.

As he passed her surveillance monitors, he saw her standing at the window, leaning on her shoulder in the corner with her arms crossed, her facial features calm.

Jack had never admired his daughter’s resilience more than at that moment.

Loved :wub: it the first time I read the scene. It really sticks in my mind enough to visually see Sydney in that cell, doing what her mother was doing months before. :(

B)

just catching up! really great story! I love it! please continue!

K. Ackles asked me to forward this to you. B)

kEEP Going. This is really good. More irina I hope. School just started and want to do something other than trying to learn a 3rd language and do stupid algebra.

Aliasmaster47 Posted on Aug 18 2003, 07:50 PM

Irina is extremely smart, with a very high IQ. She speaks 4: English, Russian, Thai and German. :) She also has to know her math including Algebra. You can do it. :rolleyes:
B)

Well right now I speak russian and english but i starting german. Irina and i have moe in common than I thought. I still don't want to take algebra but I'll stick with it for Irina.

This story is getting really good!! School has started for me too and i have to take stupid algebra :angry:(I agree with aliasmaster47 all the way that algebra is stupid) But reading these stories really takes the horribleness of algebra away from me! :) Keep up the great work! :D

Sams Sweetheart* Posted on Aug 21 2003, 07:33 PM

I agree. Algebra was not my favorite subject, but then that's because the teacher never made it interesting enough. Too many x's, y's and zzzzzz's. Now what would have made it a helluvalot better, Jack + Irina = Sydney. Got it? It's all in how you look at it.
Yes, this a real good story. POST MORE.

B)

I like it, personally! But I'm a language dud...

Are there more chapters to this, and is there somewhere I can be updated sooner?

I.C.E.
Chapter Six


Irina sat in her office, brooding. She leaned back in her desk chair and swiveled it around with her bare toes so she could look out the large window at the ocean. Morning rays were spilling over the horizon. She found it the most refreshing time of day to let her mind work.

Irina had just come from talking with Sark. According to him, there was another person they needed to keep a closer watch on. Alice Vaughn. Irina’s eyes narrowed at the thought of the woman. She was a complication in her plans. But before she could do anything about Alice, she had to know about the woman.

She had given her double in ICE instructions this morning to send her Alice’s ICE profile. As usual, he had complied quickly. The file contained all of Alice’s stats, aliases, and her psyche evaluation. Also included were her mission briefs and debriefs. You could learn a lot about a person by evaluating their mission performance. And what Irina was reading did not make her like the woman anymore.

Alice had been recruited under false pretenses. Irina thought ruefully how simple and yet deadly Sloane operated. Why waste a good lie? Alice had thought she was working for a black-ops division of the CIA. She had excelled during her training. She had been promoted quickly, much like Sydney had been. Which wasn’t a surprise since both had been gone through Project Christmas. Alice had participated in the summer camp, while Sydney had been taught by her father.

Once, Alice had become a fully active agent, Sloane had called her into the office and told her the truth. He had revealed the information about Project Christmas, the truth of Sydney’s double agent status and Vaughn’s role in her life. He told her all about Rimbaldi, he told her all about Rimbaldi’s search for immortality, his inventions that surpassed modern technology.

And he had let her read the prophecies of Rimbaldi. Sloane had showed her the one he received from the Monk. And Alice had believed also. Irina gave the rising sun a smug grin, because she knew Sloane knew nothing about Sydney’s prophecy, or her own. And that would eventually be his downfall. As prophesied.

But things would be harder now that Sloane had brought a few selected people in on his scheme. Alice was in the perfect position to undo many of Irina’s plans. And Irina did not like that picture at all. Alice was in a position to not only limit and estrange Sydney’s contact with Vaughn; she was also in a position to gain valuable knowledge about the CIA.

For now, Alice was doing nothing to Vaughn, but once Sloane gave the go-ahead, she would pump his subconscious at night for all the information she could get. She would plant bugs and hack his computer. The information she compiled could enable Sloane to get his fingers in the CIA.

Irina knew something had to be done about Alice, and it was going to have to be done with extreme caution. For not only did Irina have Alice’s ICE file open on her lap, she had Alice’s CIA file as well.

Again her agent on the inside had gotten it for her in a short period of time. The CIA was having major setbacks trying to infiltrate Sloane’s networks. Things had seemed to reach a dead end when Alice had walked back into Vaughn’s life. She had made one little slip up. She had mentioned something that Vaughn thought only Sydney and the CIA knew, she had covered well, saying that he had muttered something in his sleep, but it was enough for him to report it to Kendall.

Kendall had done a little digging. Finding out Alice had participated in Project Christmas under a false name, and there was the surveillance video from the library. Even though he never showed his face, Kendall recognized Sark. Phone logs revealed phone numbers and it was confirmed. Alice was ICE.

Her attentions to Vaughn had been the opportunity the CIA was watching for. Kendall had ordered Vaughn to keep her close. To keep her in a spot where he had opportunities to get as much information as he could out of her. When it seemed the two were getting closer, they had ordered him to propose. To not just keep her close, to go undercover.

Vaughn, believing Sydney dead, had agreed, thinking it was the only way to get back at Alice and pursue avenging Sydney. Little did the CIA know what they had just committed their agent to.

So Alice and Michael were married and both were committed to using the other. Irina made up her mind that Alice was going to be the one to lose. Normally, Irina would not have taken sides with a CIA agent, but this situation called for it and Sydney’s happiness was also important to her. And plus, Vaughn as a person had earned some grudging respect from Irina as well.

She thought briefly about flying to LA and bringing Vaughn in, but then she discarded that thought. He was not yet ready to face her without the glass window and Sydney was capable of getting things under control.

With that thought, Irina closed the folders and turned to lay them on the desk. She stood up and stretched stiff muscles while walking out the door to go get some breakfast.

Her last real thoughts on the matter were ones of excitement towards the upcoming date when she would spark some of Sydney’s memories back to the surface.

Three months later...

~Sydney POV~

Finally! The day has come when I am being released! They gave me a standard black business suit for the occasion. A glad change from the sweater and pants I’ve endured.

The journey to this day has been filled with so many ups and downs. There is still the big black void, but I don’t think Kendall believes me. Why else have me kept in here going through test after test after test. I’ve had to take at least 7 of those brain-wave lie-detector tests. I’ve submitted to various medical testing, undergone psychoanalysis sessions from Barnett on a weekly basis, and gone through unsuccessful regression therapy.

Besides determining that I am sane, healthy, and not the least bit happy about this treatment, nothing has brought back memories and nothing was learned about where I might have been.

The up things are seeing my co-workers again. It was strange because to me I’d seen them a few days ago. But they have all changed and their reactions to me have all served to cement the realization of my lost years.

I’ll never forget seeing Will for the first time. He wasn’t supposed to come in the cell but he gave Kendall such a tongue-lashing! Kendall let him go in and we cried on each other’s shoulders for who knows how long. It was so good and so unrealistic to see him alive and well after witnessing him lying in the bathtub and Will was just overwhelmed at finally having me home.

Will told me that after my disappearance he applied for agent status and was accepted in the program. He did fairly well, and he passed. But the CIA did not want to lose his analyst abilities so they awarded him a new title. Will is now the only existing Field Analyst. I could not be prouder of my friend. Although since Kendall is now very mad at him, he’s been stuck with his deskwork.

They’ve never found Francie’s body and that has been hard on Will, but he’s starting to come back emotionally and he says he’s been much better since knowing I’m ok.

My dad also got in trouble for that unauthorized visit to my cell the first night. But of course does he care? He got me my blanket and pillow and has gradually filled me in on details the others won’t tell me through Morris Code on the windowpane. I’m not supposed to have a full briefing until tomorrow afternoon.

Kendall will probably want to send me on a mission, which is ok by me because finally I am going to be able to help in the effort to get Sloane. The physical stuff they’ve done to me in no way compares to the mental agony of knowing Sloane is out there and I wasn’t able to a damn thing about it.

Somehow, Sloane has his new organization ICE and he is starting to take over, one by one, major businesses and companies that contribute to the United States economic stability. Actually, for a while, they didn’t even know it was Sloane that ran ICE. Things just kept getting bought up in that name, important people kept getting assassinated in that name, and valuable things were stolen or destroyed in that name.

They only found out Sloane was the head by his own wishes. He cornered my dad again and revealed the fact, gloating the whole time that he had outwitted the CIA. Dad said Sloane is still telling him that they will work together again.

I am very curious as to the ways we have tried to infiltrate ICE but on that subject my dad has been closed mouthed. He says that information will have to wait until the official brief.

Will has very graciously offered to let me come live at his place, which would be my old place. He bought it and restored it and says he did so because it reminded him every day of why he was doing what he was. To avenge me and Francie.

Marshall and Carrie got married!!! How shocking that news was. They came down to visit, holding hands, and proudly displayed their rings. Again, there were tears, but this time, they were on two different sides of the glass. Marshall told me that when I need to my supply of handy everyday gadgets restored to come by the Op-Tech lab and he’ll have them all ready. Carrie offered to take me shopping so I can replenish my closet!

Dixon also came by and he didn’t ask Kendall to open the door, he just opened the door. Once more, there were tears and hugs. He told me he had taken all my money and investments and kept tabs on them. He had transferred all of it to an overseas savings account under a different name so no one would touch it. He and my dad had been very mad when the CIA had wanted to take it all back. So Dad had helped him hack the bank’s system and foul-proof things.

Weiss came by and showed me the new yo-yo tricks he’s learned. He was the first to make me laugh and I enjoyed the feeling of laughing again. Although it was a bittersweet reunion as well. We both avoided any mention of Vaughn.

Even though I have lost so much I am so glad I have not lost the trust and faith of my friends. Their actions have given me back pieces of my life I had not thought to recover. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show them how grateful I am.

And the actions of Will, Dixon, Dad, Weiss, Marshall, and Carrie just make it all the more hard for me to get over Vaughn. Michael has been my saving grace in the past; here in the future he’s been anything but. He avoids me like the plague and anytime he does see me his eyes are so haunted I can’t bear to look at them long. He stays strong though and treats me very proper and formal on the few occasions we have passed words. Mostly passing in the halls as I was carted to my sessions.

I get the feeling he resents his wife. Which touches the dismal part of my heart and I am glad. Let him suffer for some of the things he has put me through with Alice. Then I feel bad. I love the man. Deeply. I thought I could get over him, but those forehead wrinkles crack my heart every time I get a glimpse. Alice will not appreciate to learn his heart lies elsewhere than in her grasp.

And that thought truly makes me happy. She may have his body, but I have his soul. All the same, here in reality, it is emotional torture to have him around. Let us hope Alice somehow dies unexpectedly.

I am roused from these musings by the rattle of the bars opening. A guard detail comes down the hall along with Kendall and my father.

“Ready?” Kendall barks.

I nod and move to the door. The guard unlocks it and I swear I can feel the fetters falling off my soul. As I step through, yet again, I feel the prick of tears at the back of my eyes. My first act of freedom is to give Dad a hug. My heart smiles, he still smells like I’ve always remembered. Of aftershave and a clean suit.

He lets me go and turns to walk by my side out of the walkway. I get a good look at his face. My dad is smiling at me again! It’s small, but hey, it’s another smile! Who would’ve thought? Kendall glares at us for not maintaining a professional attitude and I feel like sticking my tongue out at him but he’d probably send me right back in the cell so I do it mentally instead.

The guards fall in place behind us and then leave for who knows where as we enter the main hall. Will is waiting by the outside doors.

“Don’t forget to report back here in the morning, Agent Bristow.” Kendall just has to have the last word. He holds out his hand and he actually smiles. “Welcome back. Glad to have you with us again.” Honestly.

Suddenly I get a feeling of sympathy for the man. After all he is just trying to do his job right. I mean, I think I was in Sloane’s custody too. It’s not my fault he doesn’t seem to show a little empathy. Just to unsettle him a bit, instead of shaking his hand I give in to a rare impulse. He gets a hug and a real Sydney smile. “It’s good to be home Sir.” I retort.

He clears his throat and just looks at me, unsure how to respond. I walk away down to Will, leaving Dad to deal with Kendall.

“Hey.” I greet him, smile still intact.

“Hey Syd.” Will pulls me into a hug then stands back, gripping my shoulders.

“Ready to go home?” He asks while grinning.

I think my cheeks are going to be sore tomorrow from all this smiling. I nod to him and walk out into the sunshine. As bright as things are now, I know there is a darker time to come. But I shove that thought out of my head and concentrate on living in this glorious freedom.

I.C.E
Chapter Seven


The top of the black convertible was down and the car was speeding its way along the LA freeways. Irina flight had landed less than 2 hours ago and she was on the way to the meeting with her ICE agent. She was wearing her favorite pair of light blue jeans, a red tank top that showed off her lean, toned arms, and white sneakers. The rush of wind played with the tendrils of hair that escaped her low ponytail.

Glancing at the map secured to the passengers seat to make she had the right exit, she pulled off the freeway and began making her way through the streets of LA. About 15 minutes later she was pulling into a deserted dirt parking lot and once again, checking for tails. No shadow escape her casual scrutiny.

She drove slowly so she did not raise a cloud of dust and she roved her gaze over the abandoned warehouse sitting on the lot. So this was the place where her daughter had received her counter-missions and given her heart away. Irina knew the CIA did not use it anymore, there really was no need for it. For this reason, she had chosen this location to put her plans into action.

Around the backside, there was a garage opened by remote but as she came into view she could see it was already yawning wide. A dark green car sat inside it already, which told Irina her agent had already arrived. Pulling in parallel to it, she turned off the engine and got out, taking with her only a post-it note from under the dashboard.

Walking her way through the sunlight packing crates, she spotted a light on in the office in the corner. A blondish brown haired man was standing with his back angled away from the door, in front of the single window. Irina opened the door, her eyes taking in every detail of the room. A table stood against one wall, a telephone sitting in the middle. Two chairs had been placed at it and one wall was stacked with more packing boxes.

“Have you learned nothing?” she asked as she closed the door behind her.

The man jumped and turned around.

“Never turn your back against the door. You never know who might be coming in.” Irina moved over and sat in the chair facing the door.

Her agent smiled and said, “Nice to see you again too, Irina.”

She cracked a little smile and stuck the note with the telephone number on it to the phone.

“Let’s get this going. You first.”

~Sydney POV~


This has been a bit of a lonely afternoon. After taking me home, Will had to head over to his “magazine job” to finish some more paperwork. He gave me my old room back because he hadn’t touched it but he had purged Francie from her old room and vengefully made it completely his. A few words about what was in the fridge, where things in the bathroom were, a hug, and he’d gone out the door.

I’ve wandered around, noting the subtle differences in decor and the things Will had left unchanged. I’ve noticed the big changes too. My closet is completely bare. My bathroom pristine in its barrenness. And my bathroom hadn’t been really clean since I moved into the place. That was my place to let go and put things where I wanted them and leave things how I wanted them. Now, it’s absolutely spotless and empty.

Strangely, I don’t feel a desire to go out and shop yet. I don’t really want to see all the changes in the fashion world yet. So I just borrowed a pair of Will’s sweats and started in on a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer. Curled up on the new soft blue sofa, I stare out the window, contemplating my itinerary for the next few days. First, I’m expecting a call from Dixon with my bank account information and next, Carrie is coming over after she is finished at the JTF to go shopping.

The telephone pulls me out of my dreams of a brand spanking new wardrobe. Expecting Dixon’s voice, the word’s I hear in answer to me bright hello shock me.

“Joey’s Pizza?”

“Wr...Wrong number.” I stutter and hang up. What the heck? That signal was retired since the take-down of SD-6. And the voice! Shivers go down my back. That was not Vaughn calling. But it was a guy, and he had a very familiar voice. Where have I heard it before? I know him, but I can’t place his voice.

If he used that code on purpose, he wants to meet at the warehouse ASAP. What do I do? If he’s from the CIA I should go, but if he’s not I need to report this to the CIA.

The telephone rings again. It must be Dixon this time.

“Hey, you’ll never guess what just happened.” I answer and start to go on, but a smooth voice cuts me off.

“I know what happened Sydney.” Mom? Why am I not surprised to hear her voice? I should be, but now that I hear it, it’s almost like....almost like I expected this call! What is going on here?

“But don’t worry about him. You’ll meet later. Right now, you’re probably exhausted from your trials at the CIA. Why don’t you relax some, maybe go have a pizza?” With that suggestion she hangs up. I slowly lower the phone from my ear and press the off button. I hear it beep and it barely registers in my brain. Everything seems to be in slow motion. I knew that call from my mother was coming. How I knew, I don’t know. It seems something has just been unlocked within my brain at the sound of her voice.

I know I am going to go meet her at the warehouse. I know I don’t want to turn her in to the CIA. What has come over me? I’m getting up off the sofa and putting the ice cream away and my spoon in the sink. Will’s sweats come off and my suit goes back on.

Problem. How am I going to get the warehouse? I don’t have a car yet. I guess I’ll have to borrow someone’s. Vaughn’s? At a point in past I would’ve, not now. Will’s? No, he needs his. Dad’s? Yeah, I’ll call Dad. He finds plenty of things to stay at work late for, he certainly has the time to lend me a set of wheel’s. Reminder to self: get a car.

Wait a sec and hold on a minute Sydney. What am you doing?! It’s like I’m not really in control of me. The me I can’t remember is telling me things and its confusing as hell. I‘ve got to start thinking clearly again.

I make myself sit down on the edge of my bed and I put my head in my hands. Trying hard not to think about anything in particular, the world slowly comes back into focus.

Alright. Let me think about this now. My mother called and I’m not surprised, I didn’t yell at her or feel mad at her. I was a little GLAD to hear her. Evidently, something changed between us in that blank spot.

So, I decide I will go meet her at the warehouse. Maybe by seeing her, more memories will come back. I go pick up the phone and dial my dad’s cell.

“Bristow here.” He answers.

“Hey Dad, it’s me.”

“Hello Sydney, what do you need?”

“I was wondering if I could borrow your car. I’m feeling really cooped up in the house and I wanted to get out for a while, but I have no car.”

“What about Will’s?’

“He’s at the travel magazine work and he’ll it later.”

“I guess you can take mine then. I’ll finish some more stuff up until you get done.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“I’ll be by in around 15 minutes.”

“Ok. Bye.” He hangs up first.

Strange, I thought about mentioning my strange phone calls to him, but the me from the blank spot was telling me not to. It is safe to listen to her? Oh well, he’ll pick me up, we’ll drive back to the JTF and I’ll go to the warehouse from there.

~~~

It’s funny how things come back to you. I guess I’ve been out of the action for a long time, but I’m still remembering how to do all the covert stuff. Checking for tails just came back so naturally and I still remember how to get to the warehouse. I guess it’s still programmed in my subconscious.

I’ve pulled into the parking lot, but no other cars are here. Well, I didn’t really expect my mom to announce her presence that obviously. I get out of the non-descript black car and make my way inside.

There are so many memories here. So many things I have through in here and now I’m going to add one more to the list. I walk around the boxes up to the cage and I see her. My mother is sitting right where Vaughn used to sit and the symbolism is not lost on me.

She looks tanner than when I last her. And she’s not dressed professionally like I was half expecting. She’s dressed casually and I realize I’ve seen her like that before. In that outfit before.

I am sitting, relaxing in a white chair. My fruit drink is sitting on the table cradled by my hand. I glance at her, sitting on the porch rail beside the table. I find myself looking into her eyes. They are crinkled at the corners because her smile is genuine.

That smile is just for me, I realize. I feel my face respond in kind then we both go back to listening to the one of the other people gathered around.

As quickly as the memory comes it goes, but I will not forget it completely. I walk through the little gate opening and she stands up. She comes over to give me a hug. Awkwardly, I return it. I am bewildered that I feel so happy about seeing her again.

“Let me look at you.” She says, and she stands back to survey me. I watch her warily, but she seems to have a real interest in my well-being. She takes my elbow and guides me to sit down with her.

She smiles the same smile I just remembered. “Tell me what has happened since Hong Kong.”

I’m not sure I can trust my voice to not shake. “Do you...do you know what happened?”

I swallow to halt the tightness sneaking round my throat. “I mean before that....”

She nods and sighs.

“I was with you wasn’t I?”

She nods again, and I see a little sadness creep into her gaze.

The corners of my mouth lift a little in relief. I am actually glad I was with someone I trust than Sloane. Wait a minute, I don’t really trust her do I? I guess those two years really changed my life because trust is the only thing that is being whispered through the blankness in regards to this woman. So what should I say to answer her question? What will she do with the information? What is she going to have ME do next?

As I open my mouth and begin to talk about all that has happened, there is an underlying thought that won‘t go away. I realize that by telling her about my physical tests, the encounters with Vaughn, and everything I’ve learned about Sloane’s new organization, I have acknowledged to myself that I believe in what I have forgotten.

And so I also decide to not fight the fact that I've come to truly love my mother and I would trust her with my life.

I.C.E.
Chapter Eight


The huge iceberg floated with the currents, going wherever they pushed it. Such a seemingly peaceful and serene appearance hid the fact that it concealed the head quarters of the newest and most dangerous threat to the governments of the world.

In the seas of the Antarctic, few icebergs completely melted. They were not carried into temperatures sufficient for that. Sloane had had his eye on one of the large bergs for quite while. Research teams had been sent out to find if it was habitable, and to track its progress through the sea.

Sloane had finally had exits, tunnels, and rooms carved out of the interior, careful not to disrupt the balance of the berg or the alter the weight to much. Now, after almost a year of work, it was ready to be inhabited. Sloane had made sure to choose an iceberg that had a naturally large flat place on it. It was on this ledge, halfway up the side now facing east, that he had his helicopter landed.

Sloane emerged from the cockpit, bundled in a thick coat, and he strode across the flat to where there was a black box on the wall. He took of one of his gloves and flipped up the lid. Underneath was a simple keypad. The numbers 0-9 were displayed and a rectangle of green was flashing 7 blank spaces.

He pressed numbers and filled the spaces with asterisks. The screen went blank for a few second then it flashed: Authorization Accepted. A click, and then a large portion of the wall sunk in and raised. Sloane looked behind him to where the crew was unloading some medium crates from cargo hold of the chopper.

He waved them over and they brought the crates and stacked them inside the door, in a room with shiny metal walls, ceiling, and floor. Sloane waved to the pilot as the man closed the cargo doors electronically and lifted from the ground. Sloane turned to the men waiting in the room and stepped in to join them.

He found another keypad on the inside of the outer wall and again he pressed a series of numbers. The big door dropped and pushed forward, back into place. After a few seconds of total blackness, the place flashes with bright halogen bulbs that slid our from under covers in the ceiling.

A different sequence was pressed by one of the men into yet another keypad on the opposite wall. The wall split down the middle, the two sides sliding back completely. A long, brightly lit metal tunnel extended out before them and without waiting for instructions, the 4 men picked up the 4 crate and carried them off.

Sloane stood in the entrance to his fortress, a maniacal smirk fixed on his features.

~Alice POV~

It’s been awhile since I was contacted by Sloane and I wonder if anything is wrong. True, I’ve normally been left to myself, but to go three months without contact is odd. As I’m wondering if maybe I should risk calling into him, the mail arrives.

I get up off the sofa where I’ve been stewing and walk out the front door. It’s a beautiful day. Slightly cloudy with a small breeze. Just the type of day I would have loved to go on a picnic with Michael but he was called in earlier than normal this morning.

I wish he would tell me the truth, it would be so much easier than having to watch my tongue every second. The little red flag is up on the box at the end of our drive. While opening it, I wave with my other hand at the driver of the little mail truck sitting at the next driveway down.

I pull out the stack of mail and start sorting it as I walk back inside. I stop when I get to a junk mail ad for this little Hawaiian Shave Ice stand near the park. A smile works its way onto my face. So. The silence is finally broken.

~

I told Michael I wanted to take a walk in the park by myself tonight after our little argument about children. I want a child with that man, but he insists he does not want to ruin the peace of “just the two of us” for a few years yet. I don‘t know if I should believe him or not. Ever since that night when he called for Sydney, he hasn’t done it again. But he is acting just a little different.

There is just something more determined, and less sad about it. Maybe that night was his final unconscious good-bye to Sydney and he is over his grief. But still I wonder. I guess I won’t know for sure until Sloane tells me I can start my intelligence gathering.

Which is what I am almost hoping to hear from Danny at the meeting tonight. Almost. I hate to do this to Michael but it must be done. Sloane has trusted no one else with such a delicate assignment.

I’ve walked past the little Shave Ice stand and I glance at my watch. I’m early. I sit on a bench across the way, watching the people for anything suspicious and double checking for tails. At precisely 6:29 I get up and walkover to place my order of a cherry shave ice at 6:30.

The attendant makes it more me quickly and then I walk around to the back. The door handle shakes as it unlocks and I thankfully I am screened from the view of all in the park by trees and tall bushes.

I step inside and grin at Danny sitting in chair by a little water cooler. We are in the back storage room and the agent posing out front has orders not to come in the room for 20 minutes. By then Danny and I should be gone.

I take the other chair and begin eating my ice. Danny shakes his blond-brown head at me and starts in on the mission.

“Sloane isn’t sending us on a mission this time.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Then why call me here?”

“Headquarters is finished and he wants us both to come in.”

“When?” I ask.

“In three days. Here are the place tickets.” Danny reaches into his jacket pocket and then hands me two way ticket to an airport in Chile.

“Under your seat will be a key. When you land in the airport go to the storage lockers and use the key to open number 147. I will be on a different flight but arrive a half and hour earlier. My locker is number 247. We’ll meet in the rental car area 20 minutes after you arrive. Any questions?”

Oh I can think of some. “Why?”

Danny looks at me funny. “Why what?”

“Why are we not going and doing something for him. Why just going to see the new building?”

Danny shrugs. “Sloane must have something he wants us to see or something he wants to tell us.”

“What’s in the lockers?”

Danny again shrugs. “I don’t know that either. I guess our next instructions, equipment maybe.”

I throw my empty paper cone away. They make these things two small nowadays. I tap the tickets against my palm and think.

“That’s it?” I ask him.

“That’s all I was told myself and all I was told to relay to you.” He replies.

“Ok well, see you later then.” I give him a slight wave as I leave the little building. My tickets go in the secret pocket in my jacket and I head back towards my house. Wondering what Sloane is going to put us up to now.

~Sydney POV~

I did not realize I spent so much time talking with Mom. The sun is setting behind the warehouse and I am sitting in my car trying to figure out how to explain my absence to my father. He cannot know that I am once again in contact with her. His hurt and jealousy could undo any of the opportunities I need to have. God knows I also love and trust Dad to death, but there things about that I don’t have to like or agree with.

Turning on his car and pulling back into traffic, I have a very weird perception of things. Nothing physical has changed in the world while I was in the cage. But my outlook on lots of things has changed. I have not remembered anything more but Mom explained that I will.

Her voice on the phone was one example of how. She says it was necessary that I was returned to the CIA with no memory of the months I spent with her. If I had gone through the CIA’s “analysis” with my memory intact, I never would have been able to hide anything.

She explained that we had made all these plans together. We arranged a way to get my memories back AFTER I had been released and cleared by the CIA. Her phone call was the trigger event. Now, things like that will bring back memories instantly. I think she called them Extra-Sensory Stimuli. She set them all when she used hypnosis to erase my memory in the first place. Mom said some days I will recall three to four things. And some days none at all.

So I feel content at last. I may not remember much yet, but I will. I may not understand fully yet, but I will come to. And mostly I feel content because I know have what I had subconsciously missing since I woke up.

A purpose.

At first, I was driven by patriotism. Then to avenge Danny. Then to have a real chance at love and normalcy with Vaughn. Now, I really am going to fulfill the Prophecy. And I have help from a very unexpected source.

I pull into the drive way, turn off the car and sit for a minute. My purpose will not be easily accomplished because with my “awakening”, as my mother termed it, Rimbaldi’s last countdown has begun.

We need some Irina Sydney scenes

Well!!!

how's that masive update hit ya? hehe. i have three more chapters done and ill post them as soon as i get some feedback for these chapters.

if you REALLY dont want to wait you can go read up to chapter 11 on sd-6.com. ICE is in the post telling forum. but with a few more reviews here...youll get the rest soon!

AND im starting a PM list and everyone who has reviewed so far will be added on it. if you dont want a PM, tell me and ill take you off. and im happy to add any new people who ask!

thanks so much for being great readers!

~Christy
B)

HI Christy,
Thanks for posting 3 chapters, It was a pleasure to read them without (pardon) the interruption. Good luck in the writing contest. :reallyexcited:
When you write in the narrative style, whcih you do quite well, it's hard to pick up the storyline with a "B-zillion" nice comments inbetween. Means you have to go back and find the story. :huh:
Thats why I post here first. You can pick up the storyline from one chapter to the next. Death In Kashmir if I printed it out, is nearly 80 pages, start to finish!
Anyway, again, thanks. I know my friend K Ackles will love reading the three chapters.
B)

Loved them.

Lenafan was right...I did enjoy these chapters!!! Yay! Post the next three please!!! :reallyexcited: :D

This is a geat story andi enjoy reading it please keep up the good work and pm me if you wish I love cheking this board freqeuntly and am working on a story of my own


Brenda

I.C.E.
Chapter Nine


~Sydney POV~

The beeping of an alarm is intruding on my sleep. My first night of real sleep. In a bed, with sheets. I love my bed. It’s so warm. Why on earth did I set my alarm clock? All to soon the real world invades my senses. Getting out of bed and groggily into the shower, I struggle to recall how yesterday ended.

I now have a new, albeit standard-issue, car. Dad handed me the keys when I returned his car. Dixon ran into me while I was leaving and handed me a piece of paper with my bank account information on it. How thankful I am for those two men!

And I have a new memory! I got home after making a trip to the mall for pajamas, bath stuff, and a new outfit for tomorrow. When I walked in I saw Will standing at the counter, glass of milk in hand! And I remembered sitting at that same outside table, opposite Sark, both eating milk and cookies while the sun beat down. I saw his mouth moving but I heard nothing. Needless to say, that is a very thought-provoking memory!

Drat, the water is turning cold. How come I always try to take quick showers but it never happens? Oh well, I always give myself time to indulge in a good scrub. Thank heavens Will thought to put towels in here! I had completely forgotten to check for towels before I hopped in.

Drying off quickly, I wrap the towel around my hair and go to get dressed. The new khaki pants fit perfectly and the black tank top completes my simple and sophisticated look. I don’t want to take time to dry my hair, so I secure it in a clip at the back of my head. The black high heels the CIA outfitted me with will be put on at the last minute necessary!

So I carry them out and toss them on the mat by the front door as I greet a still sleepy eyes Will with his head buried in the refrigerator.

“Have you got anything around here suitable to eat?” I ask him. The fridge rattles and then his head pops out with a hand over the spot where it met a tray. Will displays a grimace at me.

“Ok, you evidentially haven’t lost any spy sneaking skills!” He now grins and rubs at his head. He gestures with his other hand at the counter. “Of course I have food!”

I look down and see what I’d overlooked. A bag of bagels is out along with a carton of cream cheese. A bowl of peaches, bananas, and apples also sits on the counter.

I smile at Will as he turns back to the fridge and retrieves the carton of orange juice he was after.

After being fed boring meals and eating them in solitude, the camaraderie with Will is very, very welcome.

I pop a bagel in the toaster and when it’s done the click of the handle brings back another memory.

I am standing behind a sofa. To my right is the porch and beyond that the ocean. To my left is the kitchen where the click of the toast finishing is heard. I hear my mother busing herself, making breakfast. Sitting on the sofa in front of me is a woman. I can only see the back of her head, but her hair is the same color as mine.

I cannot hear the words but I know we are talking about the papers and folders spread before us on the coffee table. A few other objects are there. Mini tape recorder, a pen. She turns around to look at me and her expression is tense. I release that I should take my sister‘s advice.

I just stare at the toaster and at my browned bagel until Will shakes my shoulder and says, “Sydney? Sydney are you ok?”

I shake myself mentally and make my face smile at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He looks at me strangely, “Your bagel is done and you just stared at it for like a minute.”

“Oh,” I say and grab it out to put the cream cheese on.

“I was just thinking. I’m going to go in early today. I’ll see you when you get there k?” I give him a peck on the cheek, grab a napkin for my bagel, snatch a banana, and pick up my car keys.

Wriggling my feet into the high heels I wave at Will as I think of why I have the sudden urge to get to the JTF. It’s not like I’m going to tell Dad he has another daughter. A small smile creases my lips as I slide behind the wheel and balance my food. Another thing that should surprise me but hasn’t. I have a sister! I’m very glad I remembered that because I know she is going to be very instrumental in taking Sloane down.

~~~

Walking back into the CIA building is quite an experience. There’s not a lot of people here since I’m about 2 hours early for my briefing. I walk around the building just taking in the sites. Enjoying walking among them freely, not being transported back to labs.

I round a corner and there I see my desk. A huge smile lights up my face because there is a big banner over it that says “WELCOME BACK SYDNEY!” A few balloons, streamers, and a cup of Hershey’s Kisses. Still smiling, I sit down in my chair and lean back. Then stiffen as he walks around the corner.

Vaughn’s nose is buried in a folder and he’s carrying a cup of coffee. I let my eyes follow him as he walks to sit at his desk. Across the isle and down one from mine. He is focusing very hard on whatever is in that folder and he logs on to his computer and is now squinting at the screen.

I roll over in the bed and open my eyes. Sunlight and breezes are coming through the open window and linen curtains flutter. I focus my eyes and glance around the room. In a chair, at the foot of my bed sits a blonde haired man squinting at his laptop screen.

He looks up at the noise of my movements and his smile reaches into his blue eyes.

“Good morning Ms. Bristow.”

I gulp. That was the morning after I had the fight with Allison. Well, I’ll have to think about that later, right now I have to go get those gadgets from Marshall. I stand up and walk past Vaughn on my way to the Technical Lab. He looks up, surprised to see me.

“Oh hi Sydney. I didn’t know you would be here this early.” He doesn’t meet my eyes and minimizes whatever was on his screen.

I smile at him. “Yeah, well, I decided to just soak up the atmosphere a bit before I got back into the game.”

He fidgets while he smiles back at me. “Well, there’ve been some changes but its all basically the same building.”

“Yeah, I was just going to go in search of Marshall. Is the Tech-Lab in the same place?”

“Actually, that was one of the departments that got moved around. Here, let me walk you there.” He looks nervous offering this, but we’re going have to learn to be around each other sooner than later. I hope my smile is accepting and reassuring as I agree.

We walk side by side in silence down the corridors. It’s not an awkward silence, it’s a shy one. Our footsteps are echoing together and I can’t help but wonder if he’s noticed. The heartache is squeezing again. I hope it isn’t to far to the new section.

We turn the corner and are greeted by glass panels. Vaughn puts his hand on the black door handle and opens it for me. I say thank you and start to walk in, but he stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Sydney.” He says and paused, looking into the room. He takes a breath and swings his gaze to stare straight into my eyes. “I’m still your ally.” He gives me a somewhat apologetic and hopeful half-smile. My breath catches in my throat and I can barely get my next words out. “Thank you.”

Now he lets go of my arm and nudges me into the lab. My mind is spinning, wondering how I’m going to pull off being “just allies” with Vaughn.

I wander around tables with wires and gadgets in various stages of completion, but not really seeing any of it. There is a person sitting at one of 4 computer consuls. He’s got headphones on and is singing totally out of tune. I smile and momentarily forget about Vaughn as I recognize Marshall. I walk over to him and tap his shoulder.

“WHOA! Syd!” He exclaims, jumping out of his seat and tearing the earphones off.

“Hey, you’re back! Well, I already knew that, but...I mean... you’re really back. Here. Out of custody. You know...working again. Oh that means...you’ll be here for your stuff. Right?” He barely acknowledges my nod and attempts to get a word in as he prattles off. “Right well... Um... let me put this away...VERY delicate work... complicated equations... for.. um...yeah...this thing I’m working on. but you... wouldn’t.... understand it... so!”

He starts muttering while he’s clicking and typing then turns the screen off. He gets up and gestures to me.

“Come over here! Your stuff’s in this bag. Swank shoes by the way! Carrie should get some...”

He pulls out a black purse and hangs it over his arm. “See? Normal purse right? One you’d carry to the mall and get your wallet out of...Here sir! Just ring it up!” He imitates a high voice. I swear I actually missed hearing him go on so much! He coughs and then stutters through showing me the hidden knife that is released by pressing one of the decorative metal divots.

He fills the purse with a bug-killer lipstick, two-way communicator compact, knockout gas perfume bottle, some cigarettes that shoot tranquilizer darts, a silencer pen, and his special gift. A key chain that can give someone a generous amount of electricity.

“Thank you so much, Marshall.” I say as I gather my new gear together and prepare to go back to my desk. He blushes a little and says no problem as he turns to get back to his work at the computer. As I close the door behind me I over hear him beginning is out of tune singing again.

I smile as I walk back through the corridors to my desk. It is good to be back.

~~~

Not much about the briefing meetings is different. I just walked in to find my dad, Vaughn, and Marshall seated around a long black table. Screens in front of every plush chair. I go to the empty one, farthest from the door and as soon as I sit Kendall walks in the door.

“Good Morning, lets get started shall we?”

A picture of a man going through airport security is brought up on the screen.

“This is Eduardo Milan. He owns a gold mining corporation in Peru. We have received intel that this corporation is one of the ways Sloane has gained funding for ICE. By comparing the invoice of gold shipped to America to the inventory of actually goods produced by the mine, we have found that some 3 million dollars worth of gold per shipment is missing. At 2 shipments every 4 months, that is 18 million dollars of gold found missing this year.”

Kendall pauses and presses the button to bring up a new picture of a modest looking building.

“This is the Milan Corporation’s only office building. Eduardo Milan has his office there and we believe his safe as well. What we need to find is an inventory or invoice of where the missing gold is going. Agents Vaughn and Bristow, you will be going in at 11 PM when the guard changes for the late night shift. More detailed mission specs will be on the plane. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Kendall gives a nod to Marshall and Marshall stands up to give us the Op-Tech. It seems we will not be needing disguises this time. Marshall is telling us how to use detection devices to find the safe and scramblers to break the code. I confess, I am not paying much attention.

How am I going to go an on an op with Vaughn? I leave the meeting in a very muddled frame of mind. I need to get to the gym to let off my frustration properly. But first, it’s time for that shopping trip with Carrie.

I.C.E.
Chapter Ten


She sits alone under the soft yellow porch light. Wrapped up in a green blanket, legs curled under, and arms crossed. Staring off into the now dark blue waves. The porch light is reflected among them and Paris Bristow wishes things could stay this peaceful forever.

However, she knows that soon she will have to leave this island for good and hope that the peace will return in later years. Her mother has been gone for 3 days now, and it is time to follow her orders.

Paris is very hesitant to open the package laying on the deck table before her. She knows what it holds but to finally read Rimbaldi’s words will open her eyes and change her life.

She unfolds her body and brings the rectangle box to her lap. Breaking the seals, she lifts the wooden lid and stares at the ancient looking papers held together by fraying string.

Gingerly untying the cords and unfolding the papers she begins to read the top page.

The woman here depicted will posses 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.

From early on, Irina had made sure Paris knew how to read Rimbaldi’s code. Grateful for that training, Paris goes on to read in detail the signs. As she reads more, she sees that it is indeed Sydney.

Paris remembers the months they spent getting to know each other and now she realizes her part in her mothers plan is bigger than she first regarded it. But not wanting to dwell on herself, she turns the page.

Next she sees a picture of a middle-aged man in the lower right corner She has never personally seen Sloane, but she instinctively knows that this is him. Knowing what he is attempting to do was unsettling, but reading his prophecy is completely unnerving.

The man here depicted will be the last one to bear my burden. The one who will marry the keeper yet lose her for a greater purpose. This is he who will find all the answers. My heir that will unite my works and will gain the greatest power ever known.

Why Rimbaldi did not want this prevented, Paris will never know, but she hopes desperately that for once, Rimbaldi will be proved wrong. Turning the page, she sees Irina’s likeness.

The mother here depicted seeks a way out. Combine this woman with her daughter, and my heir will find his end.
She is my heir’s strength and weakness. Beware of her. She will never be what she seems. Oh listen to me my heir! Keep her, your enemy, close. For if she gains what she seeks, your demise is sure.

Smiling now, because she knows Irina has found a way, Paris again flips the page. This new one holds a diagram of an ancient looking object and explains what it is.

This is the key to all that could be. It will need to be held by my heir if he is to rule forever. Indeed, his rule is guaranteed if he gains the key.
But beware the key. For if it falls not into his hands, his days are numbered. It is the key to his utter desolation.

Two pages remain and the next one holds only a riddle.

47 pages are hidden around
47 vials have left to be found
clear instruction left for my heir
must be found, if he dare

read them and know the answers are yours
read them and open cataclysmic doors
let them slip away and you will find
that death is the ultimate bind.

The last page is blank except for a few sentences written in the middle.

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

will come when the woman’s mind is unlocked.
will come when the mother starts her final seeking.
will come and will stay until an end is sure.

<0>

Paris closes the package back up and curls back up in the chair. Contemplating the things set so plainly in writing. And unleashed so uncertainly upon the universe.

~~~

He sits still, staring at her face in disbelief. Totally disregarding the fact that when you meet someone your not supposed to be, you don’t look at them.

“Hello.” Irina purrs at him. “Expecting someone else?”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, regaining control of his tongue.

“I have a proposition for you.” She says into the nighttime air, watching him from the corner of her eye as he resumes a proper “standing next to someone I don't know” position.

No longer looking at her, he finds it hard to accept her words.

“What could you possible have to offer me that I don’t already have?”

“What about your missing vials?” She sees him stiffen and knows she has fully grabbed his attention.

“You have them?”

“No.”

“Then don’t waste my time.” He starts to walk away, but her next words make him stop.

“I know who does.”

“What do you want in return for the information?”

Irina thinks about how to best put her demand.

“I’d like to see il dire.”

Sloane narrows his eyes at her. He desperately needs to find the missing vials, but at the price of letting this woman near the masterpiece? Never.

“That is not possible.”

“Would it be possible if I could bring Sydney and Jack with me?”

Sloane thinks. Jack is going to be the one who will first test it. Maybe this is the way he is going to come. But Sloane doesn’t dare take Irina’s words at face value. And yet...who is he to tempt fate? This must be the way it will happen. Again disregarding clandestine meeting protocol, Sloane looks at her and holds out his hand.

“Come. It will my pleasure to do business with you again.”

Irina takes his hand and he leads her to his waiting limo. Sitting in the backseat next to him, speeding off to who knows where, she smiles.

I.C.E
Chapter Eleven


~Alice POV~

I am attempting to get comfortable and relax in the passenger side of this rental car. Danny found instructions to get it in his locker and I got the map to our destination in mine. So far, the trip has gone without a hitch but that is not making me feel anymore peaceful. Easy and blind trips just make me edgy.

“Girl, you need to relax.” Danny says, not taking his eyes off the narrow winding mountain road. “It’s not like we’re going on a mission.”

“I know, I know! I’m trying to.” I retort.

“What’s got you so uptight? Don’t tell me you’re fretting about Michael.”

“Well, that’s part of it. It’s so easy to lie to him. Recently he’s just been accepting whatever I say. He’s not even fighting for more time together like he used to. Think he suspects something?”

“I don’t know the guy so I can’t say. You did say he was muttering about Sydney in his sleep again. Maybe he’s just going through another stage of grief or something.”

“Maybe...” I mumble. And frown. Somehow, I get the feeling that this past week, Michael and I both have just been acting the happy couple routine.

“Well, we still have an hour until we reach the airfield. Take a nap or something.”

I don’t respond but try to take Danny’s advice.

~~~

Irina was again back in her element. Sipping wine across from Sloane in his private jet. Sark seated behind her, busy on a laptop.

Upon reaching a hotel near LAX the night before and hearing the plan for the morning, Irina had insisted Sark be brought in. Sloane had wanted nothing more than to exclude the entirely to flexible free-agent, but since he really wanted Irina back on his side, he agreed.

Sloane would never fully trust Irina again, but since she seemed to be trusting him at the moment, he hoped to take advantage of their deal and get her back for her double crosses in the past. He privately considered himself to be her equal, and perhaps even superior.

Irina knew that.
So did Sark.

They all sat with benevolent faces, in silence, heading towards a small, obscure airfield in Chile.

~Sydney POV~

I think I’m going to go crazy. I swear the CIA can be such a stick in the mud sometimes. The mission to Peru is stated as being a success, but for me, it was anything but.

Yes, Vaughn and I recovered an invoice of a gold shipment worth 3 million dollars to some place in New Zealand. Yes, we got in out with no alarms going off and not having to shoot anyone. But I swear Kendall is going to pay for putting me through emotional hell.

Being so near to Vaughn, going on the mission with him was so much like old times. I think my heart just broke once again. Right when I think I’m going to be ok, he has to go and be sweet and understanding and be my “ally.” It’s killing me. I’m emotionally dying.

One good thing is, it is bringing me and my dad closer together. I can see a little more clearly how he must have felt finding out Mom was alive. When we got back, I couldn’t say good-bye to Vaughn. I would have broken down. And the sad look on his face as I just walked away! I glimpsed it as I turned a corner, and I just wanted to run over and kiss those wrinkles away.

Now I am sitting in the JTF at my desk. It’s late and I’m trying to concentrate on writing my report, but no...this blonde man will not leave my thoughts. I think I have memorized every move and every word of his from that mission. And I’m trying to forget them without really wanting to.

“Hey Syd. What are you doing here so late?” I jump at the sound of a voice behind me. I swivel in my chair to find Carrie standing behind me.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I joke.

“Syd,” She says. “I can see something’s wrong.” She drags over another chair and sits down beside me.

“Is the mission still bugging you?” Carrie asks. I nod. I feel a little reluctant to open up to this woman. Having me in their lives has hurt so many of my friends. Do I dare risk another?

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” She says. What she’s really saying is hint hint, I’m offering my friendship. I sigh. I had so much fun shopping with her the other day. It was almost like having Francie back. Maybe I really do need another girl friend. Plus Carrie knows the truth. Well, most of it anyway. She really can understand more than Francie did.

“It’s still Vaughn.” I say. She smiles and nods. “I thought so.” She says then asks, “Have you found out anything about what he’s been up to while you were gone?”

“I know he helped my dad look for awhile to the extent he was neglecting what Kendall wanted him doing. So Kendall put a stop to the official search and gave Vaughn a new mission.” I answer. Dixon told me some stuff this morning.

“Do you know what that mission is?”

“Is?” I say. “I though he just did something and it was over. You mean he’s still on it?”

Carrie shifts in her seat. “Look, what Vaughn is doing, he’ll need to tell you himself. His mission is delicate but let me reassure you, he’s never stopped loving you. And I think he will still do anything to be with you again.” With that she gets up and walks off.

Leaving me still pining and even more confused.

~~~

Michael Vaughn was sitting in his living room at the same time he was being discussed by the two women. The tv was on and some late-night sitcom rerun was playing but he wasn’t laughing because he wasn’t paying attention.

His mind was on a certain blonde haired wife. She had told him another possible contact had come up in Chile. Alice had left that morning saying not to expect her back until late Sunday night. That meant he had three days of peace with no pretending and Vaughn was relieved.

He was always relieved when she left, but he used to be happy and untroubled, and tonight he was neither of those. He was deeply unhappy about his situation and troubled about his mission. Trying to keep his thoughts off Sydney, he thought about how to find out more from Alice.

It was frustrating when the only thing he knew was she was an ICE agent, perfectly planted to gain info about the CIA. He didn’t think he had given her any, but knowing how Will had given things away to Allison unconsciously made him nervous.

Plus, he had no way to get information from Alice without hacking her computer or tracing her calls. It was extremely frustrating to find out she was an expert on never leaving her laptop or cell lying around. No, she put them away and he was sure she had ways to find out if they were tampered with when she wasn’t around.

Vaughn ran a hand through his hair and used the remote to click off the tv. He stared at his ring for a few moments thinking and then he pulled it off and set it on the coffee table. Why oh why had he tried to make this real? Surely he could have gotten as close to Alice without marrying her. But no, the CIA wanted this permanent. Something he couldn’t back out of. Something to get him out of Agent Sydney Bristow’s way. And something to “help the country.”

He was tired of it all and the only thing he could do was to go on living day by day, working for other people, hoping that one day he’d get to live for himself and for Sydney again.

~~~

Sloane’s private jet landed at exactly 11:23 PM. Danny and Alice pulled up in their rental car at exactly 11:31 PM. The meeting was not exactly a joyous one.

Sloane, Irina and Sark had all disembarked the plane and were transferring things to a nearby helicopter when the headlights swept over the dim lit airstrip. Irina paused by the helicopter wondering at it. Sloane had not informed her they were meeting anyone. Sark came to stand by her and Slone walked over to the car.

When they saw who emerged from the vehicle, Irina hid her surprise well, but Sark exclaimed softly. “Well, well, well, what have we here.”

Sloane was walking back towards them flanked by a blond-brown haired man and blonde haired woman. He smiled and totally missed the scowl that came over Alice’s face as she recognized them.

“Arvin, you did not tell me we had more guests.” Irina smoothly said while offering her hand to Alice to shake. She had decided to put on the charm. “I am Irina Derevko, pleased to meet you...?”

“Alice Vaughn.” Alice watched carefully to see if there was any reaction to the name. There wasn’t.

“Daniel Hecht.” The man also shook her hand. “Call me Danny.”

“I believe I have met both of you before.” Sark said smoothly, not extending his hand. In fact, he put them in his pockets. Alice just looked at him with venom in her eyes. Then she smiled.

“And I believe at our last meeting I left you in a terrible position. I’m sorry to say you look completely recovered.”

“I'm sure many others share that thought.”

Sloane cleared his throat and spoke up. “Well, if we are to make it on time, I suggest we leave now.”

Irina turned and climbed in the helicopter, taking a seat by the opposite side door. Next went Sark beside her. Alice and Danny climbed behind them and Sloane went up front next to the pilot. Almost immediately the pilot started the helicopter and lifted off.

Since the noise was pretty much deafening, they all settled in for an uneasy ride with only Sloane knowing their destination.

Irina began musing on the best way to play the unexpected opportunities this situation gave her.

there you guys go! all that I have so far is up here now!

im working on chapter 12. watch for it in a few days. :)

id be interested in hearing what you guys think is going to happen. i know how i want all this to end but the middle parts about getting there still have to be ironed out. hehe. so your thoughts could spark my brain to even higher plot twists!

anyhoo...just thanks for reading!

~Christy
B)

Unh, uh! One thing I don't want is someone else giving me hints. You've got a really good story going and you should be the one to take it to the end. From what you've said, it sounds like you don't know the ending, but that can't be true. :huh: The storyline is going very well forward. It should be propelling you faster and faster to the end. :reallyexcited:
Remember, if you get bored, then you're going to bore your readers.
You can do it.
BTW, thanks for posting here on this site. I love reading the story without so much chatting between chapters.
B)

what a great story! GREAT JOB!!!

Nonono. I totally know how things are going to end. Its just going to be a long process getting there and i was wanting to know what people think is going to happen so...i just want to know where people think this is going...if i get stuck on a few middle details...itd be nice to know what my readers expect and i can either disappoint or please as i wish!!!

I.C.E.
Chapter Twelve


Irina had to admit to herself that she was a little impressed with the place Sloane had selected for his base. No one would think to look inside a barren iceberg. She could tell it was recently finished. The new smell had yet to dissipate.

As she followed Sloane along the metal corridors, she was already taking note of everything. Keeping her ears tuned into Sloane’s prattle about how the place was designed, she also kept her eyes roving, memorizing every detail. This information would be crucial later on. If everything went well right now.

Following her were the others in silence. Sark walked behind Alice and Danny, smirking inside and out. Irina had pitted his skills against the other two’s numerous times, especially Alice. When she knew Alice was after something, there went Sark to normally gain it instead. No wonder the woman seemed edgy being civil in his presence. Sark knew she would love to put a well aimed bullet through his forehead.

Danny on the other hand seemed at ease. Sark wasn’t perplexed at that. He’d met the man before, and although he didn’t understand many things the man had done, he had been encouraged by Irina to trust him. Since he trusted Irina, he’d made an effort to not get on Danny’s bad side.

The coridor the five were walking down dead ended in a T-intersection. Sloane turned around to talk to his agents.

“Danny, you and Alice will find your offices down that way.” He pointed off down the hall to the left. “Go through the door at the very end. You will recognize the configuration from there. Further information will be on your desks.”

Danny gave a quick nod and walked off, Alice right behind him casting an ill-concealed glare at Sark.

“Now, I will show you two to your rooms.” Sloane said and began walking down the hall to the right.

“Our rooms?” Irina inquired politely.

“Yes, you didn’t expect to be leaving soon did you?” Sloane offered a hospitable smile that Irina didn’t believe for a second. But she smiled anyway and made a covert hand motion only Sark saw.

“No, I only thought we would discuss business before I was closeted out of your way.” Irina kept a straight face and Sloane swallowed as if he was hurt by her words.

“It’s hardly a closet.” At this comment, Irina let the corners of her mouth lift in the illusion of a smile.

“Naturally.”

Behind them Sark shook his head as he watched the subtle power struggle.

~~~

At his desk Danny found an envelope containing a map of the system of rooms and halls that made up the new ICE headquarters. He noticed a room was highlighted and assumed that was where he was supposed to stay. There was also a key inside.

Taking a closer look around the office room he and Alice shared he noticed all the things that they had left at their old location were present. Alice’s picture with her husband was sitting in its frame on the right corner of her desk. She sat looking at it now and Danny felt inclined to say something to her but he changed his mind and sat down at his desk to check his drawers.

Yes, there it was. The thick black book of poetry. It had been in the bottom drawer of his old desk, and here it was, moved to the new. Danny was sure that the placement was not a thoughtful gesture from Sloane, no matter how much the man had wanted it to appear that way.

Rather, Danny suspected everything had been searched so he was now anxious to get to his room and check the book for tampering.

“It was nice of Sloane to put everything in the same place wasn’t it?” Alice piped up as he stood.

“I guess.” Danny said. “He must really want to get his plans going though. He could’ve let us bring everything ourselves.”

Alice agreed and then said. “I’m dreading that he will tell me to begin with Michael when I get back.”

Danny frowned. “Dreading it? That doesn’t sound like you. I thought you wanted revenge.”

Alice looked at the floor. “I do. But I think actually doing this, instead of dreaming about it, will be so final.” She twisted her fingers together and looked back up at Danny’s worried face. “Don’t worry, I’m not backing out. There’s just a little bit of me that wished we could get the same results a different way.”

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. “For a moment there, I thought you’d gone soft on me.”

Alice laughed. “No such luck!”

With a smooth motion, Danny gathered the book and his papers up and headed out the door. “I’m going to find my room and get some rest before we get called to a meeting.”

Alice stood and followed. “Good idea.”

~

When he finally found his way to his room, Danny was a little surprised as he looked inside. He had expected it to be small, but not so elegant. There was tan carpet, a red plush chair and a bookshelf inset into the left wall above a desk. A twin sized mahogany framed bed with red covers was against the right wall, a mahogany chest of drawers against the end.

Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, Danny discovered another door next to the dresser. Investigating, it led into a simple bathroom. Just a shower, medicine cabinet, sink, and toilet greeted his eyes but they were all polished and the tile floor sparkled.

Wondering at the simple elegance of the place, Danny sat on the toilet lid as he reached over and turned the sink on. Carefully, he regarded the book in his hands. It was a book of poetry, compiled from various little known sources. It had been a gift from Sydney’s when they had begun dating.

When he had had to leave her, he’d taken it with him in defiance of Sloane. It had remained his secret for a while until a security raid had unearthed it. Danny had told Sloane the truth about it and Sloane had given it and let him keep it. Leaving Sydney believing him to be dead had been worse than anything else he had done.

That’s right, Danny thought to himself. Deceiving Sydney was harder to do than kill in cold blood. The years have changed my feelings for her, but I still miss her more than anything.

Closing his eyes, he ran his fingers down the inside of the cover, along the binding. Feeling the slight bump, he pressed down and the inside of hard cover popped up a bit. Using his fingernails, Danny pried the flap up and pulled out the paper underneath it.

He had made the hiding spot after the book had been cleared by Sloane, knowing the man would try to retain an image of decency by not poking through the book again. For years he had used it to keep his notes before making his reports to Irina.

Now, he kept a note from Sydney she had written him when she had agreed to do the hypnosis and go into position back in her old life.

Danny~

As you know by now, my time here with my mother is coming to an end and I will not see you again before I leave.

Just know that I wish I had time to get to know you again. I have changed so much because of and since your “death.” I am not the same person you loved. And I would be a fool to believe you are the same person that I loved.

I am sorry for not listening to you sooner. Then maybe we could’ve become friends again. Please don’t mistake my meaning. You know there is a wonderful man I have given my heart to. But with the risk that I might not ever see you again, I did not want to leave without an attempt at making peace.

I’m still not sure if I can forgive you, but I’m trying.

~Syd


He sighed. The few times he had run into her and asked for her forgiveness had been disasters. Danny hoped that the next time he would saw her they could work things out. If Irina was to be believed, there would be a chance within the next few weeks.

~~~

The next morning, Sloane met with Alice in his office. He noted the expression she tried to hide in her eyes as he told her the time had come to use all her training in hypnosis and various interrogation techniques on Vaughn.

He would keep a closer eye on her now but he had faith in her instincts for revenge and knew she wouldn’t let him down.

After Alice, Sloane met with Danny to discuss the details of the next recovery operation in Crete. He informed Danny he would have to be assigned a new partner due to the nature of Alice’s assignment. Her life could not be risked, now that she was in such a delicate position.

Danny left the office with a stack of ICE agent files to review and a worried thought about what Irina would say when she found out he was no longer in the Alice loop.

~~~

After eating lunch supplied by the newly operational kitchen, Sloane had Irina called to his office and the power struggle began in earnest.

“Alright Irina, who has the vials?”

“I’m afraid you misunderstood me when we made the arrangement. You get the vials in return for a visit to Il Dire.”

Sloane still wore an attempt at an innocent smile and Irina was watching him from behind her usual mask.

“My dear, once the vials have been secured, you will get just that.”

“Arvin.” Irina spoke in that soft but distinct voice of hers. “I will say only once more. The vials after a visit.”

“Suppose we try this from another angle. You said you could bring Sydney and Jack to me.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Silence. A stare down started and Sloane was the first to blink and look away. “Well?”

“I get a look at Il Dire. I’ll give you the name of the person with nine of the vials. You let me go and I will give you information on how you can take Jack again. I will personally bring Sydney anywhere you want me too.”

Sloane pursed his lips and thought. “No.” Irina waited for him to counter her offer.

“I give you a look at Il Dire, yes. You give me the information about the vials and information about how to arrange visits from both Jack and Sydney. You should be here to greet them.”

“You forget Arvin, that I am not entirely at your mercy while I stay here. Sark was ever only loyal to me and it will not get you anywhere to underestimate my connections.” Irina leaned forward just enough to lend a threatening note to her words.

Sloane surveyed her as she leaned back and cautiously opened his mouth. “Alright. You’ll get your visit this evening. Then, you will give me the name of the person who holds the vials and information concerning Jack. Then you are free to go. Sark as well. But make no mistake. I will invite you back again and Sydney had better be with you.”

Irina stood up and Sloane followed suit. She held out her hand and smiled that smile he had seen so many times before and still had no idea what it meant.

“Thank you.” She said as they shook hands. As she was leaving the office, Irina turned around at the door, wanting to have the last word.

“Oh, and Arvin...you might want to know that Sydney knows everything I do. Just in case of the unthinkable.”

With a small smile she left Sloane alone to rethink his plans of revenge.

~~~

well..im not entirely happy with the whole irina/sloane scenes but whatever...you guys get the point...hope you enjoyed it!

Nicely done. I have to agree with you re: I/S scene. Hopefully your next chapter will have some active action rather than passive. However, you are keeping me in suspense... B)

Damn computer.

I just tried to post a message four times now...maybe fifth time lucky.

Enjoying the story tonnes, and promise I am reading it even though I can't post a review all the time.

The last chapters aren't the most exciting (not to say they are any worse, au contrair, they are better written), but I can see how they form an important base for the upcoming chapters.

Can't wait...more, more! :lol:

I.C.E
Chapter Thirteen


Back in his room, Sark was pacing like a caged tiger. Being stuck in an iceberg in the middle of the Antarctic at the mercy of the most untrustworthy man alive was not going over well with him. There were thousands of other things Irina could have had him out doing. Things that would help their plan along a whole lot faster.

Instead she had him here, playing her devoted attendee. He struggled to get his frustration back under control before he snapped from the lack of activity. He checked his watch. 1:40. Irina had gone to meet Sloane at one. Surely she should be done getting what she wanted by now.

As if on cue, the door handle turned and Irina walked into the room. Sark jumped slightly and then stood still. It wasn’t often he was caught off guard but Irina did have a way of doing just that. He frowned when he saw the look on her face.

“How did it go?” He asked her. Irina was the one to start pacing now.

“Suitably.”

Sark stayed quiet, waiting for her to elaborate.

“He will take me to see Il Dire this evening. Then I will give him the vials and Jack. And then you and I can leave.”

“So we’ll be out of here tonight?”

“If all goes well yes.”

“What could go wrong? This is the most straightforward part of the whole business.”

“Arvin could change his mind and keep us here until he gets the vials.”

Sark scoffed. “He sees himself as honorable. He’d never go back on a deal unless the other person did.”

Irina stopped her pacing and looked him in the eye. “Never underestimate that man. Anything is possible and I would rather be prepared than not. How else do you think I’ve stayed alive?”

“I see your point.” Sark inclined his head then changed the subject. “I assume you would like me to send the message to Paris?”

Irina nodded and put her hands into the back pockets of her dress pants. “Yes, and tell her to go to Sydney.”

Sark raised his eyebrows. “Already?”

“Sloane has something up his sleeve and I’ll feel better if everyone is off the island.”

Sark walked over to the desk and opened up his laptop. “Consider it done.”

When he turned around, the door was closing behind Irina’s receding form.

~~~

A beeping invaded Paris’s tranquility as she lounged in the living room of the beach house. Anticipating and dreaded what it implied she took her time getting up off the sofa and going over to the dining table.

On the table top sat a laptop with a box flashing on the screen. “You have mail!” It read. Figuring she already knew who it was from and what it said, she didn’t bother to sit down in the chair pulled out. Paris just leaned over the back and used the finger mouse pad to open her email account.

Upon finishing the letter, she shut down the laptop and picked it up. She carried it into her room and proceeded to begin packing everything she would need to begin her little trip.

At around 7:00 o’clock that night Paris had her personal suitcase packed, the Rambaldi vials safely stowed in her cosmetic case. She considered it highly unlikely that the security guys would suspect what looked like old perfume bottles of being highly wanted contraband.

After stowing the suitcase and her carry-on bag in the back of her Jeep, Paris made sure the beach house was locked up tight, the alarm and self-defense systems were turned on, and that all the lights were out.

Hopping in the drivers seat, she slowly drove down a narrow dirt road that wound away from the beach into the denseness of the jungle. She hadn’t traveled out much, but she knew that it would take a few hours to reach the small airstrip on the other side of the island.

~~~

Irina stood in silence before the pride and joy and obsession in Sloane’s life. It didn’t look like much to her but it gave off an incredibly menacing rumble as Sloane turned it on and she barely contained her shudder.

It wasn’t a very large machine and it definitely wasn’t designed for eye-appeal. All the ancient artifacts had been broken down and assembled into this...this... Irina was having a hard time coming up with a word to describe it.

She began walking around it as it vibrated in the middle of the room and Sloane backed off from the control panel to stand against the wall as he watched her. The machine stood about 6 feet tall and 10 feet long. Metal tubes poked out of places, the fingers on dials spun and shifted, and there were glass containers of sloshing liquids in various places.

The whole contraption looked like it came straight out of Dr. Jekyll’s laboratory. Flat panels had been welded together to create a chair of some kind on one end. There was a band of iron that Irina assumed was to be used to hold a human head in place, round tubes where armrests should be, a seat with straps dangling from the sides, and two more bands where the feet should rest.

While all of this ate at Irina’s composure, she showed no sign of it and continued her slow circle. Finally, she found what she was looking for. There on the side of the control panel was a hole. An odd shaped hole that was no precise geometric feature. She had spotted the key-hole and felt a huge surge of relief that the key was not resting there.

Then there still was time. Contrary to what she had told the others, she had had no idea if the time table she had outlined was correct. If Sloane had the key, then all would be in vain and the only thing left to do was try and destroy any vials she could. But now, there still was a chance to follow her leads, get the key, and be rid of Rambaldi once and for all.

Irina continued on around the rattling object to face Sloane again. She hoped he had not picked up on her faint start when she glimpsed the opening beneath the blinking control buttons. “Impressive.” Was all she said and gave a casual glance around the rest of the room.

“Thank you.” Sloane led her over to a table against the back wall. There lay all the Rambaldi documents he had gathered over the years. He picked one up and gave it to Irina. It was a diagram of the very quaking object before them.

“It would not have been possible without your help.” Sloane gave her a smile of gratitude and for a moment, Irina felt a moment of pity and sorrow come over her. Believe it or not, this man had once been her friend. She was sorry she had helped him to become the man standing before her, but she was about fix her past mistakes for the good of her family.

Setting the page back on the desk, she turned her head and used her hair to cover her eyes as she turned her gaze to the rack in the corner. There hung the vials Sloane had collected so far. Doing a very swift count, she turned back to Sloane before he even realized her gaze had been gone.

As they continued with meaningless chat, Irina set another part of her brain figure up the number she had seen. 31. With the 9 that she was about to give him, the total reached 40. Damn, she thought. To many. The odds were not stacking up like she had hoped.

Sloane was now showing her out the vault and up through the security floor, back to his office where she would deliver to her enemy what he needed. Then she hoped to hell she’d be able to get out of there and back to where she could oversee things properly.

~Sydney POV~

This is turning out to be one dull Friday night. Will had invited me to go along with him and a few other people from work, but there was no way I was about to subject myself to overly curious people with a few drinks in them. With a few drinks in me, who knows what I’d spill.

So I made an emergency run to Blockbuster. I grabbed a few new releases that looked interesting, but I’ve been in a daze as I watched them. I couldn’t tell you the plots of any of them. They’ve ended up serving as background noise for my tumultuous thoughts.

I’ve been getting more and more memories every day. I can now remember my conversation with Sark that first morning. Seeing my mother and wanting to kill her but holding back because she said something. She said that if I let her teach me everything she knew, she would let me kill her if I still wanted to.

I remember doing combat training with her again. I remember Sark joining us some days. I remember sparing with my sister on the beach as I gained back my strength. There were even weeks when all she would speak was Russian. The next week it was French. And the next Spanish.

Then I remember we had a visitor. I know it was a man and I know I got extremely hurt when I saw him and then I got extremely angry. I cannot remember his face yet, and I’m trying not to dwell on it. He was able to evoke emotions I’d only felt towards my mother before and that is a scary thought. But for the life of me I cannot think of who it might be.

After that, I remember a few meaningless people dropping in. I learned they were my mothers most valuable assets and I learned to make them mine as well. I’ve recalled scores of information that my mother pumped into me. Bank accounts, locations, contact codes, shipments, names, etc... Basically she handed me her empire.

At first, I remember being skeptical. Didn’t she know I’d turn all this in when I “took over”? That I’d give her over? I assumed she wasn’t telling all the truth and was constantly on guard for some sort of clue that she was double crossing me. Then she showed me the prophesies.

Yes, I remembered the prophecies just last night. That is what changed my view point. I realized my mother needed me to complete her part and I needed what she was giving me to do my job. So slowly, I let my guard down and got involved with the planning and the plotting.

From there things are fuzzy. I have a few memories of arguing with Paris, of working on something with Sark, and then one of Mom teaching me meditation.

I am getting really tired of waiting for the rest of it to come back. I know there is a something I am supposed to do. I have a job, a role, to carry out here in LA. And I want to know what it is! My conscience is bothering me about not turning my mothers organization over to the CIA. But I won’t until I remember everything and do whatever it is I’m supposed to.

Then the thought crosses my mind. Maybe I won’t turn it all in after all. My loyalties most definitely do not lie with Kendall any longer, although I may act like it. And its not like I’m betraying my country. I’m going for the same goal, just outside of sanctioned channels. Which I’ve done plenty of times in the past.

I spend the rest of the night pondering what it would be like to step into my mother's shoes.

~~~

Sloane stood over Irina as she wrote on a pad of paper in his office. She was drawing a diagram of a surf shop in Hawaii. As she moved the pencil across the page she was explaining.

“Now the man that owns this shop lives behind it. Sergetov is a retired KGB general and I helped locate him here outside of the KGB eyes so he owed me a favor. I gave all nine of the vials I’ve recovered to him and I’m pretty certain he has hidden them in his vault.”

“A vault?”

“Yes.” Irina circled a spot in the house. “Behind the painting that hangs here is the control box. I think the vault slides out of the wall. The code to bring it out and unlock it is: 4700047.”

“And Jack?”

Irina sat back in her chair. “You need to leak some information to the CIA. Something that will bring him out into the field. On an op, it will be easy to nab him.”

Sloane sat down behind his desk. “I have already tried that. Any leads they get, the director sends out the younger teams.”

“He won’t if you leak that I’ve been spotted somewhere. Say Egypt. Their director, Kendall, will want to send Sydney but Jack won’t stand for that. He’d convince Kendall to let him come himself.”

Sloane nodded his head. “Alright, I’ll try that. In the mean time...I believe that I am enjoying your company to much to stick to our original deal.”

Irina narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’d like you to remain with me until I have recovered the vials and Jack.”

“Arvin, that could take days!”

“I’m well aware of that fact. It could also only take a matter of minutes for you to warn your contact, or help Jack.”

Irina stood up. “Arvin, you know better than anyone that those are things I would not do.”

“Irina, you’ve crossed me before and I am not going to let you go into a position where you can do it again!” Sloane snapped.

Irina tried to come up with a response to that but was failing and silence fell upon the two. Finally, she decided to swallow her pride this once. There were others ways to win besides verbally.

“Very well.” Then she turned on her heel and left.

~~~

Sark jumped again as the door to his room swung open and an angry Irina walked in.

“Sark,” she said, “Get your things together, you are going to get out of here.”

“What about you?” he asked, standing up from the chair where he’d been sitting.

“Arvin has decided not to let me go until he gets everything back here and then I’m sure he’ll find another excuse to keep me even longer.”

“If you don’t want to stay, you can come too you know.”

“I know, but if I want any chance of staying on his semi-good side, I have to appear to not mind his distrust.” Irina walked back to the open door.

“Danny sent word he and Alice are leaving for home tomorrow morning. I don’t care how or when you do it, but get on that helicopter.”

Sark nodded. Irina hesitated and then spoke again.

“After you get out, I want you to meet Paris in LA. Give this to her and tell her to give it to Sydney.” Irina handed him a business size envelope and Sark took it and put it in his inside coat pocket.

“Good luck.” Irina gave Sark a smile and then closed the door behind herself.

~~~

Happy Labor Day!!!

well..the action is picking up can you tell?! hehe. sorry there hasn't been much..but yes, K. Ackles, it's important stufff you need to know! :)

sorry i cant spell...dr. jekel...dr. jeckel...dr. jeckle...you know who i mean right? hehe...

glad you are all enjoying this!

ETA: two big thank yous go out to lenafan for catching my spelling and K.Ackles for telling my how to spell Jekyll!!!