SydVaughn4life
Cadet
OMG!!!! I just finished reading your story and the last chapter had me crying!!! I can't believe that Jack and Amelie would do that do their children!!! That was awesome and heartbreaking!!!!
Maroon
- Thread starter Danuta
- Start date
But don't worry, it's not an end of S/V... Danuta wouldn't do that 
mnkdance963
Cadet
omg!! i all i can say!!!! that was just wow!!!
thanx for the update!!!
thanx for the update!!!
OMG I just spent the last like 2 hours reading this fic from the beginning and I'm pretty much in love with it!!!!! How can it end there?? Gahh!!! :blink:
But seriously, this is one of my favorite alias fics ever. Definetely top 3. I'm an S/V angst addict, and this story is like crack for me! can't wait for the next update! :read:
Chels
p.s.---can i get a pm when you update?
But seriously, this is one of my favorite alias fics ever. Definetely top 3. I'm an S/V angst addict, and this story is like crack for me! can't wait for the next update! :read:
Chels
p.s.---can i get a pm when you update?
Update, update. I’m in a rush...constantly for the next two months. Everybody who goes to school or university knows about what I’m talking. So, there are only two new chaps, but I’ll update soon. Don’t worry. Thank you for all the very lovely reviews – brighten my day everytime I read them. And now enjoy the next chaps – they are very important for the context of the story.
Love, Danuta
Soccer_sweety_18: umm this may sound stupid but whats a pm?
This doesn’t sound stupid, I didn’t know it for a few months
PM’s are Personal Messages – you know the little pop-up’s that come sometimes? Well, these are the PMs. Everytime I update you’ll get one of them with a direct link – so you won’t have to look when there’ll be a new update. You’re on my list now – so you must have gotten one for this chapter.
Chapter 17 – The urge to resist
March 1997
(Sydney: 22 years old ; Vaughn: 29 years old)
The bed is creaking under their weight.
He is everywhere. Moving under her, around her, inside of her. It feels like she is starving. Like she has always waited just for him. He stops his movements. Waits for her body to adjust to the feel of him inside of her. But they have no time. She tells him through her eyes. They always have only minutes. And he’s her drug. She is addicted. Lost in him, in his caresses, his love. She spurts him on. Hears the clock ticking.
Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack. Time is their enemy.
He kisses her. Long and slowly. Feverish and needing. And the feeling is so unique and breathtaking that it is hard to open her eyes. But she must. Slowly she blinks a few times, before she gazes in the eyes of the man above her. Green piercing eyes. Eyes that love her, she thinks briefly.
“Syd.”, a harsh, but gentle whisper escapes from his lips. She sees only his eyes. He wants to say it. “I lo....”
“Hey Sydney. Wake up from dreamland.”
And she woke up. Looking around the small cabin, a bit lost, she realized soon that she was on an airplane. ‘Right, the mission’ she though, and tried to ignore the heat inside of her, waiting to burst. Instead she smiled at her partner and lover.
“When will we land?”, Sydney asked, hoping that Noah hadn’t heard the raspiness of her voice. The voice she only used when she was near the edge.
“In an hour, but I thought we should go over the mission.”
“Okay, one minute, my folder is in my bag.”, Sydney answered fast, and stood up to grab the documents. Walking down the aisle to the luggage rack in the back of the airplane, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Rummaging through her bag, she thought of the returning dreams she had for years. That couldn’t be normal. Shaking her head to regain some clarity, she retrieved the documents and flipped through the folder. This was her life. Not some green-eyed stranger. Not even a stranger, an imaginary friend. And she was much too old for such a dream-friend. But well, what a friend he is, she thought back to her recent dream. He seemed like a demon she couldn’t face down. She’s running from him, but he would always find her. And when she looked him in the eyes, she couldn’t breathe anymore. Like he sucked all the life out of her. All of this seemed so real. Leaning against the wall, she massaged her temple. Possibly it would be a good idea to visit the psych-doctor when she came back. Oh yeah, she could see Doctor Rockson looking sternly at her and lisping: “Sexual frustration Miss Bristow. How is this related your parents?” And that was something she surely didn’t want to experience. Not in her whole life.
At that moment, her lover rounded the corner and looked at her with a questioning look on his clean-shaven face. “Sydney, is everything okay?”
‘Syd.’ A whispered shout, making her shiver.
“Yeah sure, everything’s fine.”, Sydney answered with a steady voice, turning her back on him. If he could see the look on her face, Noah would have known that nothing was right.
“You seem, I don’t know, a bit distracted.”, he stated, before he placed a supporting hand on her shoulder.
His hand, brushing her burning skin.
“Only because of you.”, she flashed him a big smile, before turning her head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss.
Gentle kisses along her collarbone. Heat erupting from every touch of his lips.
“Sydney Bristow, you’re a dangerous distraction. But we should really go over the mission details.”, Noah told her after he had broken the kiss. With a short nod, Sydney strode past him to her seat.
This would be hard.
******
New Delhi, India
“It’s over.”, Michael Vaughn stated and sighed deeply into the receiver. For an hour all he had heard from his best friend Eric Weiss had been the results of the actual hockey-season. Normally Vaughn would have loved to talk about the chances of his favorite team, of the worst shoots, but today he wasn’t in the mood for that. Today had been the end of something.
“You know the Kings could win the last game. They still have a chance.”, Agent Eric Weiss replied gently, trying to lift the bad mood of his best friend.
Sighing again, Vaughn turned around, so that he faced the window and could see the sunset. Everything has an end, he thought bitterly. “Eric, I don’t mean the hockey-season. It’s over with Alice.”, he explained briefly, hoping that his friend didn’t want all the little details.
“Again?” Well that hadn’t been the answer Michael had wished for. Cringing inwardly, he resisted the urge to scream at his friend.
Noticing the weird silence on the other end of the line, Weiss knew that he had hurt him with his harsh words and added in an apologizing tone: “Mike, I’m sorry, but you two have created a whole new sport with your ever-changing moods.”
26 separations in three years.
1095 days.
That would mean, every 42,115385 days they had chosen to live without each other.
6 separations because of the distance.
‘Paris is such a dirty city.’
‘I can’t understand one word of what they are saying Michael.’
‘The Italian men are so impudent.’
1 separation because she had an affair with one of these impudent Italians.
2 separations because he had been bold to her father.
3 separations because she had no respect of his family, his friends, his work and his privacy.
7 separations because of his work.
‘Choose: your work or me.”
‘My work.’
6 separations because she felt neglected. (Mostly paired with the previous point or point 1)
‘You’re never here for me.’
‘You don’t know who I am anymore.’
‘This isn’t a relationship Michael.’
1 separation because he didn’t said the three little words to her in a 2-month-period.
‘I love you.’
Silence.
‘Michael why are you not saying it to me?’
Silence.
1 separation because they couldn’t come to terms when they wanted to buy a flat (she wanted a house for the four children)
2 separations because of her wish for the four children.
“No, this time it’s really over. She thinks I have another woman.”, Vaughn said, remembering Alice’s high-hitched voice when she told him that it was over. And the worst was, in this moment he hadn’t felt any remorse.
“You and another woman? My god, is she really that stupid? You would never have the guts to betray her.”, Weiss words snapped him out of his thoughts. First Vaughn wanted to contradict. He had the guts, but he had a sense of honor too. But then on the other hand....
“Why are you not answering me? You don’t? You have another woman?”, Weiss asked, mouth hanging open. Even the thousands of miles that separated them, couldn’t hide his interest. “Wow, who is she? Is she one of your colleagues? Or the nice little secretary? Come on, tell the Weissman all your dirty little secrets.”, he demanded in his best Marlon-Brandon/The Godfather- imitation.
“No, no and no. I didn’t have an affair. It’s just that while Alice and I slept with each other, well I seem to.....I have....”, he stuttered, while taking his lucky silver-dollar out of his jacket pocket. Looking at the portrait of George Washington he began to move the object slowly from finger to finger. Sometimes he had done this so often, that the skin between his knuckles had broken.
“Spill.”, sitting on the edge of his stool, Weiss held his breath. Who would have thought that the honorable and nice Michael Vaughn would have black spots in his life.
“I have called her differently.”, he admitted ashamed, the coin falling on the hard cement floor, because Vaughn had stopped his movements so abruptly.
Instead of giving a helpful answer, Weiss erupted in loud laughing, causing Vaughn to hold the phone away from his ear. What a friend, he thought grungily.
After a few minutes, Eric had calmed down and wiped a few tears from his eyes: “Not honey or darling?”
Silence.
“Something kinky?”, he added with a big smile on his face.
“No, I have said another name.”, Michael started, but stopped to clear his throat as he heard his voice squeak. “Or shouted would fit better.”
“What would I have given to see Alice’s face.”
“That’s not funny.”, Vaughn hissed angrily.
“I know, but it’s so absurd that’s funny already.”
“Nice that someone can laugh because of it.”
“What name?”
“Excuse me?”, Michael asked bewildered.
“Dude, what name have you yelled in orgasmic ecstasy?”
“I have no idea.” After a moment he brought one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This situation was not good. Really terrible would fit better.
Happy that his friend couldn’t see how he rolled his eyes, Weiss asked surprised: “You’ve forgotten it?”
Couldn’t Eric understand that this was a topic he didn’t want to talk about? He could just end this stupid conversation and move on with his life. There’s no need to discuss his little...problems. But then would Weiss tell it all of his colleagues and your life would be over, Vaughn’s little voice told him. Now let’s get over it. Exhaling deeply, Vaughn took all his guts and said the truth. “I can’t remember. Really. All I remember is that Alice shouted and hit me a few times, before she climbed out of bed, dressed and fled out of my flat. She said that it was enough. She had ignored that I had said her name in my sleep, but during our...activities, that’s another matter.”
“Nice choose of words. But hasn’t she told you the name you had built in, in your bed-plays.”
“No. No chance. I asked her and believe me, that had been a really bad, horrible idea. She slapped me across the face and asked me if there had been more than one woman. I have a red handprint on my cheek now.”
“Poor baby.”, Weiss purred.
Turning around so that he faced his computer, Vaughn set the call on loudspeaker and leaned forward on the table. His folded hands pressed against his mouth, he stared into the black screen. “Eric, do you remember...? On my last visit in LA, I have told you about a returning dream I have.”
“The erotic dream.”
“Yes.”, he mumbled under his breath.
“Kinky, kinky Agent Vaughn.”
“Stop it.”, he admonished Weiss with a strict voice.
Realizing how stressed his mate seemed, Eric tried to lighten his mood. “You think that you have given your little friend a name? That’s very sweet of you. It’s like naming your pet.”
“What would I do without you?”, Vaughn retorted, a small grin enlightening his face. Leaning back in his upholstered stool, Vaughn resisted the urge to pick up the silver-dollar and to continue his play with it.
“I believe that you had those kinds of dreams only because Alice wasn’t the perfect match for you. Your subconscious told you something.”
“And what would that be exactly professor Weiss?”
“Leave her. Now that you’re free I’m sure that the dreams won’t return anymore.”
“I hope so.” Or not, he thought inwardly.
“And how is it in India?”
“Okay, but I can’t understand why Kendall declined my request to be transferred to LA.”
“I heard that someone from the higher agency is against you.”
“I just have no idea why. I have no enemies in the CIA and I had the best results of the group of 1994. Since then I was stationed in Paris, Rome, and now, for nearly one year, in New Delhi. It’s time for me to move home.”
“Good luck. I will see if I can find out who your mysterious enemy is.”
“Thank you Eric. But now I should go. Today is the reception of the chief of the American Ambassador. I’ll phone you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Lots of fun Mike. We’ll hear from each other.”
*******
Going down the stairs, Sydney did her best to look very bored. Well it wasn’t so hard to play that. The reception of the chief of the American Ambassador had begun half an hour ago and until now it hadn’t been more entertaining than a dinner with her father. Shuddering at the thought, she changed her opinion: The party isn’t that bad. Glancing in one of the full-length gilded mirrors she stopped a minute to admire herself. Making a mental note to praise Darla for it, she applied quickly a bit of the deep-reddish lipstick. Content with her appearance, Sydney spotted the reflection of the American Ambassador in the glass. Resisting the urge to compromise him in front of all his VIP-guests, she quickly looked away. She could destroy his future, because of his present and past.
“The American Ambassador David Fellon is one of the most esteemed men in politics. A few senators in Washington want to see him in a much higher position. And that at the age of 39. Fellon’s father had been senator and enabled him a sky-rocketing career. He studied law and politics in Harvard, was two years in the Navy, but an accident ended his military career. Afterwards he worked for several government divisions. Until one year ago he was the minister of defense.”
Leaning back in her chair, Sydney threw her boss a questioning look.
“Why should we break into his house?”
“Well, David Fellon had a very wild youth. He was member of a group we call: “Der Widerstand”.”
“The resistance.”
“Correct. It’s a German-Austrian group which trades defense technology. They describe themselves as impartial and not politically interested. That means that the group buys and sells the information from and to everyone. That includes terrorist organizations and government institutions.
Fellon had quit his membership one year before he took up his duty in Washington. But we have Intel that the connection between him and “Der Widerstand” never broke. They supplied each other with information. Everything for his benefit. But Senator Fellon senior found out that his son worked hand in hand with the enemy. He seemed to have loved him too much, so he never reported him. Suddenly David Fellon resigned because of illness and wanted to retire. Only one month later, his father had been murdered. We believe that Fellon killed him. After two months of grieving, he entered upon his employment as American Ambassador in India. His work connection with the German-Austrian group has been renewed too. One of our Agents reported that Fellon and Boris Mench, the leader of “Der Widerstand” had several meetings. In one of them, Fellon made a deal with his friend. If he gives Mench the names and whereabouts of all American undercover-agents in Poland, he will get the Russian high-classified plans of a new weapon.”
“And what should we do?”
“Miss, a drink?”, a friendly waiter asked Sydney with a small bow.
They have style; she admitted and grabbed one of the champagne-flutes. Smiling sweetly at the young boy she asked with a thick Spanish accent:
“Could you please tell me where the bath is?” Looking around helplessly, she added: “It’s so hot here, I think I will faint if I can’t cool down a bit.” Touching her heated skin with the flute, water-pearls gliding inside the depths of her décolletage, she saw the poor boy falling for her.
“Su-sure. But if you feel ill, you can use one of the guest-rooms in the second stage.”
“Oh, really? That would be so nice.”, Sydney chirped, using her free hand to fan air towards herself.
Oh I got you, she thought inwardly, listening to his rattling.
“I-I’ll just go to the office and get the key. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
“That would be so sweet of you. Gracias.” Presenting him with a weak smile, she praised herself. It had taken her only ten minutes to choose this poor waiter to be her entry card to Fellon’s office. The minute she had stepped into the beautiful ballroom, she had noticed him pouring out a whole bottle of the most exclusive champagne.
“Denniz. What have you done?”
“Sorry Mister Galloni. I promise this won’t happen any more, and I will pay for the bottle.”
“Sure you will. And tonight you will be the most obliging waiter the world has ever seen. Their wish is your order. Is that clear?”
“Y-Y-Yes Sir.”
After that she had only waited for him to come. Watching Denniz running to one of the many corridors, she sighed quietly. He was a poor guy. After that they would fire him. A short pang of guilt and then she was back in mission-mode, how she called it.
This had been a bit too easy, she thought while replaying the plan inside her head. Why do the rich and important people always hire credulous people?
“I wonder how you do that.”, she heard the surprised voice of Noah through her comms. Grinning proudly, she pretended to tuck a strand of her black hair behind the ear, only to switch her comm on.
“Well, I am charming. Did you ever doubt that?”
“Me? Never. That’s because I felt your charm the whole last night and today in the morning. Twice if I remember correctly.”, he teased her and Sydney felt the red creeping up her cheeks. If she only hadn’t applied so much rouge, then nobody would see her embarrassment.
Turning around, so that she was half-hidden behind one of the gothic pillars she whispered quietly:
“Shut up. Now isn’t the time for this kind of talk.”
“Nervous?” She was never good in reading Noah Hicks. That was part why she liked him so much. He was the bad boy. The mysterious guy. The man you shouldn’t date. He represented this cliché. With every fiber of his being. He loved to tease her, to embarrass her and to love her. Even if she wasn’t so sure if it was really love. Love was a big word and she had only entered the world of the spies a few months ago. Now wasn’t the time to bind herself for life. Now was the time to live and to breathe and well, to have a wild boyfriend like Noah Hicks.
“This is not my first mission.”, she retorted icily, not liking what she could read behind his words. My, he had more expertise, okay. That’s true, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t as good as him.
‘Sydney Bristow, I’m happy to tell you that you’ll be the first to enter the field after only three months of training.’
‘I have never seen anyone who has his body under control like you Sydney. Respect.’
‘The best results in your finals tests. I’m happy to call you one of us Miss Bristow.’
‘You learn languages like you have spoken them in your former life.’
‘Agents like Miss Bristow are our future.’
“Your fourth. And I’m your skilled partner. In every aspect of life.”
Rolling her eyes, Sydney felt the gaze of someone on her. One of the first things you develop in training is the feeling when you’re observed. Because the most agents are only paranoid in the beginning. She had a good instinct. And right now she knew that someone found her very interesting. Shielding her face with one hand like she was just yawning she murmered: “You’re so kinky. I don’t know why I’m together with you.”
“Oh, you love to live dangerous. That’s your reason. You know that Sloane would kill us if he knew what we do after the missions are over.”
“Stop now.” Fishing her little pocket-mirror out of her evening-bag, she snapped it open. Have you their cameras under control?”, she added.
“Yes darling.”
Not seeing anyone in the small mirror, she stuffed it back. “Okay, I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Wait for my sign.”
“Copy that gorgeous.”
Smiling broadly, she stepped out of the shadows into the bright light of the crystal-chandeliers. The band had begun to play a slow waltz and a few pairs danced elegantly around the ballroom. One of them was the ever charming Ambassador and his lovely wife Christa. His German wife. What an occurrence.
“And what should we do?”
“There will be a reception of the chief of the American Ambassador in his home. You’ll go in as Signora Natalia Villazón, the wife of the Spanish chief of a big company, with economical connections to India. Signor Villazón won’t be there, we will take care of that. You will gain access in the secured second floor: that should be no problem.”
“Miss, I have the card. I’ll bring you to the guestroom so that you have the chance to lay down.”, Denniz interrupted her thoughts. Glancing at her clock, she nodded slowly. Perfect timing. Following the waiter around the room, she felt again that someone was watching her. Looking around, she caught a man with piercing green eyes staring down at her. Realizing that she had noticed him, he fidgeted nervously with his collar, before he flashed her a smile and nodded slowly to Sydney.
He was good-looking, she must admit, but now wasn’t the time for flirting, and she was married after all. Glancing at her ‘wedding’-ring, she sighed inwardly, before raising her left hand and shaking her head with a small smile. Poor boy. She had a previous commitment after all. But that doesn’t stop you from dreaming about another man, a small voice inside her whispered.
Turning her back to the stranger, she followed the young waiter.
Green piercing eyes. They were her downfall.
*****
Chapter 18 – Shame on you
“David, good to see you. Sorry, I meant Ambassador Fellon, Sir.”, Vaughn joked lightly, while shaking hands with the man in front of him.
“For you David. I couldn’t stand one more person who speaks to me like I’m 80 years old.”, he grinned at the young agent. There was an age-difference of 10 years seperating them, but Fellon had soon realized that the CIA-Agent was not only honest and had a sense for honour, but was a friendly and pleasant contemporary too. With a passion for pool-billiard, which was also one of his most favourite sparetime activities. Smiling broadly at Vaughn he added: “And I will win the next game. I practiced with Christa and won three out of four games.”
“That’s a lie David. I won twice. And the third play was a remis.”, a pretty woman interrupted their talk and shoved him playfully. Her shoulder-lenght redish hair shone brightly in the brilliance of the lights and her pale-blue dress rustled with every movement. Maybe Christa Fellon wasn’t the most beautiful woman on earth, but her good heart and her intelligence gave her a special beauty that you wouldn’t be able to find in any fashion-magazin.
“I never lie.”, her husband stated earnestly and pulled her in a loose hug. The chiffon-dress commentating every of their movements with a loud echo.
“And that out of the mouth of a politician. Shame on you.”, she retorted, before turning to Vaughn. “Michael, it’s so nice to see you. How are you darling?”, blowing a kiss on his cheek she glanced around quickly before she added. “And I have a new woman for you. Very, very pretty and intelligent.”
Laughing aloud Vaughn looked at her doubtfully. “The last woman you wanted me to date was crazy. She always wanted to read my future out of tea-leaves.”
“Okay, Erin was a bit unique, but Gertrude is very nice. She’s from Munich.”
“No thanks, I have enough of distant relationships.”
“Alice war nicht gut genug für dich. Und das weißt du. (Alice wasn’t good enough for you. And you know that.)”, Christa whispered quickly, not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. “Und sie hat der Schönheit Indiens nichts abgewinnen können. Außerdem haben ihre selbstgemachten Schokoladenkekse immer nach Seife geschmeckt. Allein dadurch war sie mir schon suspekt.” (And she couldn’t see the beauty of India. Besides, her self-made chocolate cookies have always tasted like soap. That was the only reason I found her weird.)
“Chris, you shouldn’t talk about Alice in the public. This isn’t polite.”
“Oh David, sometimes I can’t believe how a politician can be so honourable.”, turning to Vaughn, she said: “And I can’t stand it when he’s more honourable than me. What should the other people think of me?”
Shaking his head, because of his wife’s opinion, Fellon remembered Vaughn’s wish of returning to the good old US. “Michael, by the way, was your request of being transferred to Los Angeles accepted?”
“No, Devlin declined it. I just can’t understand why. But please, let us talk about something different.”
“Okay, I’ll let it drop, but tomorrow I’ll phone one of my old college buddies. He can help you, I’m sure. Devlin is one of his boys.”
“That’s not acceptable.”
Giving him a questioning look Michael explained: “It’s just too much.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I wouldn’t think that you’ll be an enrichment for the government. After all you went through. Your place is in America.”
Hearing their whole debate about Michael going back to the USA, Christa pouted automatically. “I must admit that I will miss you so much Michael. Wer wird denn dann noch Deutsch mit mir sprechen? Niemand.” (Who will be there to talk in German with me? No one.)
“Hello. I’m here. Your husband. You know, the one with the big nose and an excellent use of grammar.”, Fellon joked, his arm hanging loosely around his wife’s slender waist.
“And now we should go. Doctor Rohan Nahid wanted to dance with you honey.”, he told his wife, who was sighing dramatically. “And I should talk a bit with the other guests or they will plunder the buffet. Please Michael, enjoy the party. I have seen a few pretty ladies here.”
“We’ll talk to each other later. Bye.”, Christa chirped happily while following her husband to another married couple.
Going across the ballroom, around all the dancing and chattering couples, Vaughn was happy when he reached the small but exclusive bar.
“A whiskey sour please.”, he told the bartender, a man in his early fifties.
Leaning forward on the table, his folded hands pressed against his mouth, Vaughn closed his eyes and tried to shut out all the talking, the music and the other noises around him. Sleep had been a rare occurrence for him in the last months. Dreamless sleep. One night without any visions of brown-haired lovers.
Hearing the distant noise of a glass being placed on a hard-wooden table (a special tone to everyone who is visiting a dive once in a while), Vaughn uttered a small “Thanks.” But the bartender was away and listened to a sad story from one of his visitors. Well, I could tell him a few of mine, he thought while gazing at the golden liquid in front of him.
Brown-golden.
Like dark coffee chocolate with caramel crispies.
‘Damn, I’m not normal.’
Massaging his temple with his fingers, Michael took a moment before he stood up and took the glass with him. For later.
Going up the stairs, he kept a watchful eye on his surroundings. The last thing he wanted now would be a friend of Christa running after him. He was definitely too tired for something like that. Rounding a corner, Vaughn found his preferred place in the house, a inward-balcony that was a connection between the first and second floor. The architect definitely wanted the hall to look like an opera; the whole room was decorated in rich Bordeaux and golden colours. Big curtains with sparkling velvet ribbons framed the beautiful look out of the windows.
Standing in the shadows of a gigantic pillar in gothic style, only candles enlightened softly his surroundings. Taking a big gulp of his whiskey, Vaughn looked around. The music played a slow and tuneful Waltz of Strauss and a few couples swayed like candles in the wind to the melody. He noticed that Christa and David were one of them. Her face lying on his shoulder, Michael could see the broad smile that was grazing Christa’s face. Smiling at the pair in love, he leaned on the pillar, before he let his gaze wander around again.
And then he saw her.
She was half-shielded by a pillar, much like his. Stepping to his left so that he could watch her better, Vaughn saw her turning her back on him, like she knew that she had a silent admirer.
Her new position allowed him a good look on her bare neck. Only a fine strap around it seemed to hold the lime green dress from falling down. The raven-black hair was stuck up in a loose knot, many curly strands falling freely over her shoulders. He seemed to have grown a sudden attraction to a woman’s neck, he thought bewildered. Noticing the elegant swing of her neck, the way her muscles flexed when she moved her head, the way it met her shoulder blades.... And then she turned around.
Stepped out of the shadows into the bright light.
A broad smile enlightening her face.
More sparkling than everything he had ever seen.
Instantly he wanted to know what had made her smile. Standing on the railing she seemed to watch the people dance.
Maybe he should ask her.
Those four simple words.
Do you wanna dance?
And then she would shake her head, maybe laugh at him, and stalk out of his life.
A thin waiter tripped over one of the stairs, before he stopped somehow awkwardly in front of the beautiful woman. Shyly he whispered something, which seemed to please her. Looking at her watch, a lazy smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s mouth. Nodding fiercely, she followed the waiter down the stairs into the direction of the private elevator. Frowning slightly Michael wondered why a strange woman would be allowed to enter the private floor of the house. ‘Maybe she isn’t a stranger’, he thought somehow delighted. That would mean that Christa knew who she was. He would ask her later about the woman. Until then he would remember the way her hips swung with every step she took, her high cheekbones, the full lips, how her chocolate coloured skin sparkled in the bright light.
In this moment she turned around. Blue met green.
s***. She had noticed him, observing her. He frowned one moment, sweat trickling down his temple. This shouldn’t happen. Nervously he played around with his collar, thinking about a way to save this situation. Well, he could just turn around and leave. Not very nice and completely rude. Or he could stay here like a complete idiot, drooling after her. Not a good option. Alice had damaged him for his life. But she’s away now. Not a part of his life anymore. And now his new life would begin. And his first new intention would be to feel free to flirt with women. Flashing her his most charming smile, he nodded down at her. And now he was waiting. The ball was in her court. Seeing her glancing down at her hand, he had a suspicion. The moment she lifted her hand and the golden band on her ring-finger laughed him beastly in the face, he knew he had been right. Good women are always taken. But there was something about her. A small smile and than the mysterious woman was gone.
Before he could grieve after her, someone tugged him by his sleeve. Turning around he recognized the friendly face of Christa and a young girl who was standing beside her. Pretty too. Not as pretty as the mysterious woman, but today was the beginning of his new life. And it was the first time the brown-haired woman of his dreams wasn’t on his mind.
********
“Okay eagle, I’m inside.”, Sydney whispered in her comm.
“What is with the waiter boy?”
“He’s out.” Denniz lay unconscious in one of the lumber-rooms. He would be out for more than four hours. And then one of the others would surely hear his yelling and knocking.
“Shut down the cameras.”
“Cameras shut down.”
Glancing around, she noticed the small cameras freezing and the green light switching to red. Out and over. Her way was free. Two guards and a small but biting dog later, she
sneaked around a corner to find herself in front of Fellon’s working-room.
Stepping out of her left shoe she pushed one of the little diamonds that decorated her creamy-white stilettos and sighed relieved as a thin needle shot out of the heel. Extracting it expertly she stuck it into the doorknob and waited a few agonizing seconds. One. Two. Three. Nothing. Maybe this new tech-guy Marshall wasn’t as good as Sloane said. Four. Five. Six. And the door yanked open. Maybe she should go to lunch with Marshall when she will come back.
Aware of the special alarm system that would sound if the volume would be over 0,56 decibels, Sydney opened her evening bag to take a mobile phone out of it. Tipping a few numbers in, she waited until she could hear a constant melody. Switching it on loudspeaker, she noticed how the tone faded out slowly.
“You push 2-6-0-5, because, well that’s, that’s my birthday ya know. And when I programmed this the first time, I simply forgot the code. And that...that had been awful. ‘Coz I couldn’t stop the melody anymore and my neighbours dog was barking the whole day and night and day and night. And he didn’t want to stop. So I...”
“We understand Marshall.”
“Oh, okay. Good, good. So...you simply push this numbers in and wait until you hear this cute little melody. It’s the beginning of ‘Holding out for a hero’, because I loved this song, so much. Bonnie Tyler. Ya know it, right?”
“Marshall.”
“Right. Sorry. You hear the song. You can listen to it a bit, if you want Miss Bristow. Than you turn the loudspeaker on. After exactly 6 seconds you won’t hear a single note anymore. That’s because our human ear can’t hear on this frequency. It will lay over the sound system of the alarm system. During you have this on, you can throw a party in the office and nobody would notice it. But you can’t use a phone, or comms during that time.”
“Going radio silent, eagle.”
“Copy that sunflower.”
Walking quickly into Fellon’s office, Sydney shut the door quietly before rushing to his desk. The hidden drawer was found in one minute. Triumphantly, she threw all the secret papers on the table and searched through them. Nothing.
“Damn.”, she mumbled under her breath. Where could he have hidden those documents? Rummaging around his office, she didn’t think that someone could see her.
She didn’t realize that the kissing couple in the garden would look up to see a dark figure sneaking through the Ambassador’s private rooms.
She didn’t saw them running inside and screaming loudly at the security men.
The girl hysterical. The boy out of breath. “There’s someone in my uncle’s office.”
She didn’t hear them opening the door.
She just heard: “Hands in the air.”
********
“Who is she?”, Michael Vaughn asked while walking up and down. Every once in a while he would look through the glass window that separated the interrogation room from this little office. The walls were painted in a stark white, a complete contrast to the grey that surrounded the woman. She wanted to move, but the manacles on her wrists and ankles prevented that.
“You’re the best for interrogations. And I think we really need your help now.”
Turning to his superior Agent Harting, he could see the desperation in his eyes.
Five hours since they had captured her. Four hours since she sat on this metallic stool. Four hours that only included silence, silence and silence. She didn't even want a glass of water.
“It’s not my job.”, Vaughn sighed nervously, knowing that an argument would follow. Seeing the weird vein popping out on Harting’s temple he knew that he had been right.
“Your job is what I order you.”, the older man shouted at him. Gripping the edge of the wooden desk, he added in a dangerous low voice: “Don’t play rebellious Agent Vaughn. You’re too old for this. And now go in. Ask her a few questions and come out with her name and the organisation she works for.”
“That’s not so easy.”
“Well, that’s your problem now. She broke into the Ambassador’s house. It has one of the best alarm systems of the world and it’s a shame that a young girl could conquer it.”
Realizing that these arguments wouldn’t change his mind, Harting tried another tactic. Circling the desk to sit down, he rotated slowly on the chair until he faced the wall.
“I thought the Ambassador and his wife are your friends. Don’t you want to know what she was after?” Vaughn knew that he wanted to say: ‘Don’t you want to know if she wanted to kill them? To torture them?’ But he doubted that. Glancing at the captured woman who was working hardly on her escape he must smile inwardly. She seemed to be a fighter.
“Documents. I am sure she was after them. I would like to know which exactly she was after, but...”
“No but Agent.”, Harting stopped him with a raised hand. “The accident with Balliani had been tragic but it wasn’t your fault. Nobody could’ve thought that he would get a heart attack. He had faked it often enough. And I’m sure the lovely little lady here is very healthy.”
“Donald, don’t you think that we should call the doctor?”
Panic.
The breathing ragged.
Heart beating wildly in an unsure tact.
The dance of death.
“No, he fakes it. I’m sure. He played this number three times yesterday.”
“He doesn’t breathe anymore. I run and call the doc.”
Angst.
One hand on the doorknob.
The other one on his cell phone.
Heart had stopped.
The symphony had ended.
“You won’t.”
His face distorted. Because of revenge and sick happiness.
Loud shouting.
Hand on his gun.
The retort straining his drum skin.
Blood flooding the grey floor.
Pain radiating from his leg.
Black surrounding him.
You could still see the fresh wound. Only a flesh wound, but it represented a bad memory. One week ago had this happened. Only one week.
Harting could see the young Agent in deep thought, his eyes clouded with the terrible memory. One short second he felt sympathy for him, but it was replaced quickly by his sense of duty. “Besides, Agent Ferris wasn’t in a healthy mental state. He wanted revenge and would have killed Balliani no matter what you’ve done. I know you didn’t want to be part in interrogations for the next few weeks, but now we need you Agent Vaughn. So go in and find out the truth.”
Looking through the thick glass Vaughn watched how Sydney hadn’t stopped the fight against the restraints that held her down. Shifting her weight in the chair, she began to rock it slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the door. After a few seconds she lost balance and felt hard on the floor. Wanting to help her, Michael watched with much surprise how the mysterious woman rolled with much effort around, so that she could kneel. Smiling triumphantly she actually accomplished to lift her bounded hand over the back of her chair. ‘Not bad.’, Vaughn thought quite impressed, before he turned to his senior officer.
“I’ll do it.”
Nodding happily Harting grabbed his phone, but haltered in his movements when he heard Vaughn saying:
“But before I go in, I want her to have a shower, to remove her wig and the contact-lenses. I want to see her and no alias. Ah and before I forget it. Please don’t let her escape.”, with a wink Vaughn closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief.
***
tbc...
Like it? Hate it?
Tell me.
Love, D.
Love, Danuta
Soccer_sweety_18: umm this may sound stupid but whats a pm?
This doesn’t sound stupid, I didn’t know it for a few months
PM’s are Personal Messages – you know the little pop-up’s that come sometimes? Well, these are the PMs. Everytime I update you’ll get one of them with a direct link – so you won’t have to look when there’ll be a new update. You’re on my list now – so you must have gotten one for this chapter.
Chapter 17 – The urge to resist
March 1997
(Sydney: 22 years old ; Vaughn: 29 years old)
The bed is creaking under their weight.
He is everywhere. Moving under her, around her, inside of her. It feels like she is starving. Like she has always waited just for him. He stops his movements. Waits for her body to adjust to the feel of him inside of her. But they have no time. She tells him through her eyes. They always have only minutes. And he’s her drug. She is addicted. Lost in him, in his caresses, his love. She spurts him on. Hears the clock ticking.
Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack. Time is their enemy.
He kisses her. Long and slowly. Feverish and needing. And the feeling is so unique and breathtaking that it is hard to open her eyes. But she must. Slowly she blinks a few times, before she gazes in the eyes of the man above her. Green piercing eyes. Eyes that love her, she thinks briefly.
“Syd.”, a harsh, but gentle whisper escapes from his lips. She sees only his eyes. He wants to say it. “I lo....”
“Hey Sydney. Wake up from dreamland.”
And she woke up. Looking around the small cabin, a bit lost, she realized soon that she was on an airplane. ‘Right, the mission’ she though, and tried to ignore the heat inside of her, waiting to burst. Instead she smiled at her partner and lover.
“When will we land?”, Sydney asked, hoping that Noah hadn’t heard the raspiness of her voice. The voice she only used when she was near the edge.
“In an hour, but I thought we should go over the mission.”
“Okay, one minute, my folder is in my bag.”, Sydney answered fast, and stood up to grab the documents. Walking down the aisle to the luggage rack in the back of the airplane, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Rummaging through her bag, she thought of the returning dreams she had for years. That couldn’t be normal. Shaking her head to regain some clarity, she retrieved the documents and flipped through the folder. This was her life. Not some green-eyed stranger. Not even a stranger, an imaginary friend. And she was much too old for such a dream-friend. But well, what a friend he is, she thought back to her recent dream. He seemed like a demon she couldn’t face down. She’s running from him, but he would always find her. And when she looked him in the eyes, she couldn’t breathe anymore. Like he sucked all the life out of her. All of this seemed so real. Leaning against the wall, she massaged her temple. Possibly it would be a good idea to visit the psych-doctor when she came back. Oh yeah, she could see Doctor Rockson looking sternly at her and lisping: “Sexual frustration Miss Bristow. How is this related your parents?” And that was something she surely didn’t want to experience. Not in her whole life.
At that moment, her lover rounded the corner and looked at her with a questioning look on his clean-shaven face. “Sydney, is everything okay?”
‘Syd.’ A whispered shout, making her shiver.
“Yeah sure, everything’s fine.”, Sydney answered with a steady voice, turning her back on him. If he could see the look on her face, Noah would have known that nothing was right.
“You seem, I don’t know, a bit distracted.”, he stated, before he placed a supporting hand on her shoulder.
His hand, brushing her burning skin.
“Only because of you.”, she flashed him a big smile, before turning her head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss.
Gentle kisses along her collarbone. Heat erupting from every touch of his lips.
“Sydney Bristow, you’re a dangerous distraction. But we should really go over the mission details.”, Noah told her after he had broken the kiss. With a short nod, Sydney strode past him to her seat.
This would be hard.
******
New Delhi, India
“It’s over.”, Michael Vaughn stated and sighed deeply into the receiver. For an hour all he had heard from his best friend Eric Weiss had been the results of the actual hockey-season. Normally Vaughn would have loved to talk about the chances of his favorite team, of the worst shoots, but today he wasn’t in the mood for that. Today had been the end of something.
“You know the Kings could win the last game. They still have a chance.”, Agent Eric Weiss replied gently, trying to lift the bad mood of his best friend.
Sighing again, Vaughn turned around, so that he faced the window and could see the sunset. Everything has an end, he thought bitterly. “Eric, I don’t mean the hockey-season. It’s over with Alice.”, he explained briefly, hoping that his friend didn’t want all the little details.
“Again?” Well that hadn’t been the answer Michael had wished for. Cringing inwardly, he resisted the urge to scream at his friend.
Noticing the weird silence on the other end of the line, Weiss knew that he had hurt him with his harsh words and added in an apologizing tone: “Mike, I’m sorry, but you two have created a whole new sport with your ever-changing moods.”
26 separations in three years.
1095 days.
That would mean, every 42,115385 days they had chosen to live without each other.
6 separations because of the distance.
‘Paris is such a dirty city.’
‘I can’t understand one word of what they are saying Michael.’
‘The Italian men are so impudent.’
1 separation because she had an affair with one of these impudent Italians.
2 separations because he had been bold to her father.
3 separations because she had no respect of his family, his friends, his work and his privacy.
7 separations because of his work.
‘Choose: your work or me.”
‘My work.’
6 separations because she felt neglected. (Mostly paired with the previous point or point 1)
‘You’re never here for me.’
‘You don’t know who I am anymore.’
‘This isn’t a relationship Michael.’
1 separation because he didn’t said the three little words to her in a 2-month-period.
‘I love you.’
Silence.
‘Michael why are you not saying it to me?’
Silence.
1 separation because they couldn’t come to terms when they wanted to buy a flat (she wanted a house for the four children)
2 separations because of her wish for the four children.
“No, this time it’s really over. She thinks I have another woman.”, Vaughn said, remembering Alice’s high-hitched voice when she told him that it was over. And the worst was, in this moment he hadn’t felt any remorse.
“You and another woman? My god, is she really that stupid? You would never have the guts to betray her.”, Weiss words snapped him out of his thoughts. First Vaughn wanted to contradict. He had the guts, but he had a sense of honor too. But then on the other hand....
“Why are you not answering me? You don’t? You have another woman?”, Weiss asked, mouth hanging open. Even the thousands of miles that separated them, couldn’t hide his interest. “Wow, who is she? Is she one of your colleagues? Or the nice little secretary? Come on, tell the Weissman all your dirty little secrets.”, he demanded in his best Marlon-Brandon/The Godfather- imitation.
“No, no and no. I didn’t have an affair. It’s just that while Alice and I slept with each other, well I seem to.....I have....”, he stuttered, while taking his lucky silver-dollar out of his jacket pocket. Looking at the portrait of George Washington he began to move the object slowly from finger to finger. Sometimes he had done this so often, that the skin between his knuckles had broken.
“Spill.”, sitting on the edge of his stool, Weiss held his breath. Who would have thought that the honorable and nice Michael Vaughn would have black spots in his life.
“I have called her differently.”, he admitted ashamed, the coin falling on the hard cement floor, because Vaughn had stopped his movements so abruptly.
Instead of giving a helpful answer, Weiss erupted in loud laughing, causing Vaughn to hold the phone away from his ear. What a friend, he thought grungily.
After a few minutes, Eric had calmed down and wiped a few tears from his eyes: “Not honey or darling?”
Silence.
“Something kinky?”, he added with a big smile on his face.
“No, I have said another name.”, Michael started, but stopped to clear his throat as he heard his voice squeak. “Or shouted would fit better.”
“What would I have given to see Alice’s face.”
“That’s not funny.”, Vaughn hissed angrily.
“I know, but it’s so absurd that’s funny already.”
“Nice that someone can laugh because of it.”
“What name?”
“Excuse me?”, Michael asked bewildered.
“Dude, what name have you yelled in orgasmic ecstasy?”
“I have no idea.” After a moment he brought one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This situation was not good. Really terrible would fit better.
Happy that his friend couldn’t see how he rolled his eyes, Weiss asked surprised: “You’ve forgotten it?”
Couldn’t Eric understand that this was a topic he didn’t want to talk about? He could just end this stupid conversation and move on with his life. There’s no need to discuss his little...problems. But then would Weiss tell it all of his colleagues and your life would be over, Vaughn’s little voice told him. Now let’s get over it. Exhaling deeply, Vaughn took all his guts and said the truth. “I can’t remember. Really. All I remember is that Alice shouted and hit me a few times, before she climbed out of bed, dressed and fled out of my flat. She said that it was enough. She had ignored that I had said her name in my sleep, but during our...activities, that’s another matter.”
“Nice choose of words. But hasn’t she told you the name you had built in, in your bed-plays.”
“No. No chance. I asked her and believe me, that had been a really bad, horrible idea. She slapped me across the face and asked me if there had been more than one woman. I have a red handprint on my cheek now.”
“Poor baby.”, Weiss purred.
Turning around so that he faced his computer, Vaughn set the call on loudspeaker and leaned forward on the table. His folded hands pressed against his mouth, he stared into the black screen. “Eric, do you remember...? On my last visit in LA, I have told you about a returning dream I have.”
“The erotic dream.”
“Yes.”, he mumbled under his breath.
“Kinky, kinky Agent Vaughn.”
“Stop it.”, he admonished Weiss with a strict voice.
Realizing how stressed his mate seemed, Eric tried to lighten his mood. “You think that you have given your little friend a name? That’s very sweet of you. It’s like naming your pet.”
“What would I do without you?”, Vaughn retorted, a small grin enlightening his face. Leaning back in his upholstered stool, Vaughn resisted the urge to pick up the silver-dollar and to continue his play with it.
“I believe that you had those kinds of dreams only because Alice wasn’t the perfect match for you. Your subconscious told you something.”
“And what would that be exactly professor Weiss?”
“Leave her. Now that you’re free I’m sure that the dreams won’t return anymore.”
“I hope so.” Or not, he thought inwardly.
“And how is it in India?”
“Okay, but I can’t understand why Kendall declined my request to be transferred to LA.”
“I heard that someone from the higher agency is against you.”
“I just have no idea why. I have no enemies in the CIA and I had the best results of the group of 1994. Since then I was stationed in Paris, Rome, and now, for nearly one year, in New Delhi. It’s time for me to move home.”
“Good luck. I will see if I can find out who your mysterious enemy is.”
“Thank you Eric. But now I should go. Today is the reception of the chief of the American Ambassador. I’ll phone you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Lots of fun Mike. We’ll hear from each other.”
*******
Going down the stairs, Sydney did her best to look very bored. Well it wasn’t so hard to play that. The reception of the chief of the American Ambassador had begun half an hour ago and until now it hadn’t been more entertaining than a dinner with her father. Shuddering at the thought, she changed her opinion: The party isn’t that bad. Glancing in one of the full-length gilded mirrors she stopped a minute to admire herself. Making a mental note to praise Darla for it, she applied quickly a bit of the deep-reddish lipstick. Content with her appearance, Sydney spotted the reflection of the American Ambassador in the glass. Resisting the urge to compromise him in front of all his VIP-guests, she quickly looked away. She could destroy his future, because of his present and past.
“The American Ambassador David Fellon is one of the most esteemed men in politics. A few senators in Washington want to see him in a much higher position. And that at the age of 39. Fellon’s father had been senator and enabled him a sky-rocketing career. He studied law and politics in Harvard, was two years in the Navy, but an accident ended his military career. Afterwards he worked for several government divisions. Until one year ago he was the minister of defense.”
Leaning back in her chair, Sydney threw her boss a questioning look.
“Why should we break into his house?”
“Well, David Fellon had a very wild youth. He was member of a group we call: “Der Widerstand”.”
“The resistance.”
“Correct. It’s a German-Austrian group which trades defense technology. They describe themselves as impartial and not politically interested. That means that the group buys and sells the information from and to everyone. That includes terrorist organizations and government institutions.
Fellon had quit his membership one year before he took up his duty in Washington. But we have Intel that the connection between him and “Der Widerstand” never broke. They supplied each other with information. Everything for his benefit. But Senator Fellon senior found out that his son worked hand in hand with the enemy. He seemed to have loved him too much, so he never reported him. Suddenly David Fellon resigned because of illness and wanted to retire. Only one month later, his father had been murdered. We believe that Fellon killed him. After two months of grieving, he entered upon his employment as American Ambassador in India. His work connection with the German-Austrian group has been renewed too. One of our Agents reported that Fellon and Boris Mench, the leader of “Der Widerstand” had several meetings. In one of them, Fellon made a deal with his friend. If he gives Mench the names and whereabouts of all American undercover-agents in Poland, he will get the Russian high-classified plans of a new weapon.”
“And what should we do?”
“Miss, a drink?”, a friendly waiter asked Sydney with a small bow.
They have style; she admitted and grabbed one of the champagne-flutes. Smiling sweetly at the young boy she asked with a thick Spanish accent:
“Could you please tell me where the bath is?” Looking around helplessly, she added: “It’s so hot here, I think I will faint if I can’t cool down a bit.” Touching her heated skin with the flute, water-pearls gliding inside the depths of her décolletage, she saw the poor boy falling for her.
“Su-sure. But if you feel ill, you can use one of the guest-rooms in the second stage.”
“Oh, really? That would be so nice.”, Sydney chirped, using her free hand to fan air towards herself.
Oh I got you, she thought inwardly, listening to his rattling.
“I-I’ll just go to the office and get the key. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
“That would be so sweet of you. Gracias.” Presenting him with a weak smile, she praised herself. It had taken her only ten minutes to choose this poor waiter to be her entry card to Fellon’s office. The minute she had stepped into the beautiful ballroom, she had noticed him pouring out a whole bottle of the most exclusive champagne.
“Denniz. What have you done?”
“Sorry Mister Galloni. I promise this won’t happen any more, and I will pay for the bottle.”
“Sure you will. And tonight you will be the most obliging waiter the world has ever seen. Their wish is your order. Is that clear?”
“Y-Y-Yes Sir.”
After that she had only waited for him to come. Watching Denniz running to one of the many corridors, she sighed quietly. He was a poor guy. After that they would fire him. A short pang of guilt and then she was back in mission-mode, how she called it.
This had been a bit too easy, she thought while replaying the plan inside her head. Why do the rich and important people always hire credulous people?
“I wonder how you do that.”, she heard the surprised voice of Noah through her comms. Grinning proudly, she pretended to tuck a strand of her black hair behind the ear, only to switch her comm on.
“Well, I am charming. Did you ever doubt that?”
“Me? Never. That’s because I felt your charm the whole last night and today in the morning. Twice if I remember correctly.”, he teased her and Sydney felt the red creeping up her cheeks. If she only hadn’t applied so much rouge, then nobody would see her embarrassment.
Turning around, so that she was half-hidden behind one of the gothic pillars she whispered quietly:
“Shut up. Now isn’t the time for this kind of talk.”
“Nervous?” She was never good in reading Noah Hicks. That was part why she liked him so much. He was the bad boy. The mysterious guy. The man you shouldn’t date. He represented this cliché. With every fiber of his being. He loved to tease her, to embarrass her and to love her. Even if she wasn’t so sure if it was really love. Love was a big word and she had only entered the world of the spies a few months ago. Now wasn’t the time to bind herself for life. Now was the time to live and to breathe and well, to have a wild boyfriend like Noah Hicks.
“This is not my first mission.”, she retorted icily, not liking what she could read behind his words. My, he had more expertise, okay. That’s true, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t as good as him.
‘Sydney Bristow, I’m happy to tell you that you’ll be the first to enter the field after only three months of training.’
‘I have never seen anyone who has his body under control like you Sydney. Respect.’
‘The best results in your finals tests. I’m happy to call you one of us Miss Bristow.’
‘You learn languages like you have spoken them in your former life.’
‘Agents like Miss Bristow are our future.’
“Your fourth. And I’m your skilled partner. In every aspect of life.”
Rolling her eyes, Sydney felt the gaze of someone on her. One of the first things you develop in training is the feeling when you’re observed. Because the most agents are only paranoid in the beginning. She had a good instinct. And right now she knew that someone found her very interesting. Shielding her face with one hand like she was just yawning she murmered: “You’re so kinky. I don’t know why I’m together with you.”
“Oh, you love to live dangerous. That’s your reason. You know that Sloane would kill us if he knew what we do after the missions are over.”
“Stop now.” Fishing her little pocket-mirror out of her evening-bag, she snapped it open. Have you their cameras under control?”, she added.
“Yes darling.”
Not seeing anyone in the small mirror, she stuffed it back. “Okay, I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Wait for my sign.”
“Copy that gorgeous.”
Smiling broadly, she stepped out of the shadows into the bright light of the crystal-chandeliers. The band had begun to play a slow waltz and a few pairs danced elegantly around the ballroom. One of them was the ever charming Ambassador and his lovely wife Christa. His German wife. What an occurrence.
“And what should we do?”
“There will be a reception of the chief of the American Ambassador in his home. You’ll go in as Signora Natalia Villazón, the wife of the Spanish chief of a big company, with economical connections to India. Signor Villazón won’t be there, we will take care of that. You will gain access in the secured second floor: that should be no problem.”
“Miss, I have the card. I’ll bring you to the guestroom so that you have the chance to lay down.”, Denniz interrupted her thoughts. Glancing at her clock, she nodded slowly. Perfect timing. Following the waiter around the room, she felt again that someone was watching her. Looking around, she caught a man with piercing green eyes staring down at her. Realizing that she had noticed him, he fidgeted nervously with his collar, before he flashed her a smile and nodded slowly to Sydney.
He was good-looking, she must admit, but now wasn’t the time for flirting, and she was married after all. Glancing at her ‘wedding’-ring, she sighed inwardly, before raising her left hand and shaking her head with a small smile. Poor boy. She had a previous commitment after all. But that doesn’t stop you from dreaming about another man, a small voice inside her whispered.
Turning her back to the stranger, she followed the young waiter.
Green piercing eyes. They were her downfall.
*****
Chapter 18 – Shame on you
“David, good to see you. Sorry, I meant Ambassador Fellon, Sir.”, Vaughn joked lightly, while shaking hands with the man in front of him.
“For you David. I couldn’t stand one more person who speaks to me like I’m 80 years old.”, he grinned at the young agent. There was an age-difference of 10 years seperating them, but Fellon had soon realized that the CIA-Agent was not only honest and had a sense for honour, but was a friendly and pleasant contemporary too. With a passion for pool-billiard, which was also one of his most favourite sparetime activities. Smiling broadly at Vaughn he added: “And I will win the next game. I practiced with Christa and won three out of four games.”
“That’s a lie David. I won twice. And the third play was a remis.”, a pretty woman interrupted their talk and shoved him playfully. Her shoulder-lenght redish hair shone brightly in the brilliance of the lights and her pale-blue dress rustled with every movement. Maybe Christa Fellon wasn’t the most beautiful woman on earth, but her good heart and her intelligence gave her a special beauty that you wouldn’t be able to find in any fashion-magazin.
“I never lie.”, her husband stated earnestly and pulled her in a loose hug. The chiffon-dress commentating every of their movements with a loud echo.
“And that out of the mouth of a politician. Shame on you.”, she retorted, before turning to Vaughn. “Michael, it’s so nice to see you. How are you darling?”, blowing a kiss on his cheek she glanced around quickly before she added. “And I have a new woman for you. Very, very pretty and intelligent.”
Laughing aloud Vaughn looked at her doubtfully. “The last woman you wanted me to date was crazy. She always wanted to read my future out of tea-leaves.”
“Okay, Erin was a bit unique, but Gertrude is very nice. She’s from Munich.”
“No thanks, I have enough of distant relationships.”
“Alice war nicht gut genug für dich. Und das weißt du. (Alice wasn’t good enough for you. And you know that.)”, Christa whispered quickly, not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. “Und sie hat der Schönheit Indiens nichts abgewinnen können. Außerdem haben ihre selbstgemachten Schokoladenkekse immer nach Seife geschmeckt. Allein dadurch war sie mir schon suspekt.” (And she couldn’t see the beauty of India. Besides, her self-made chocolate cookies have always tasted like soap. That was the only reason I found her weird.)
“Chris, you shouldn’t talk about Alice in the public. This isn’t polite.”
“Oh David, sometimes I can’t believe how a politician can be so honourable.”, turning to Vaughn, she said: “And I can’t stand it when he’s more honourable than me. What should the other people think of me?”
Shaking his head, because of his wife’s opinion, Fellon remembered Vaughn’s wish of returning to the good old US. “Michael, by the way, was your request of being transferred to Los Angeles accepted?”
“No, Devlin declined it. I just can’t understand why. But please, let us talk about something different.”
“Okay, I’ll let it drop, but tomorrow I’ll phone one of my old college buddies. He can help you, I’m sure. Devlin is one of his boys.”
“That’s not acceptable.”
Giving him a questioning look Michael explained: “It’s just too much.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I wouldn’t think that you’ll be an enrichment for the government. After all you went through. Your place is in America.”
Hearing their whole debate about Michael going back to the USA, Christa pouted automatically. “I must admit that I will miss you so much Michael. Wer wird denn dann noch Deutsch mit mir sprechen? Niemand.” (Who will be there to talk in German with me? No one.)
“Hello. I’m here. Your husband. You know, the one with the big nose and an excellent use of grammar.”, Fellon joked, his arm hanging loosely around his wife’s slender waist.
“And now we should go. Doctor Rohan Nahid wanted to dance with you honey.”, he told his wife, who was sighing dramatically. “And I should talk a bit with the other guests or they will plunder the buffet. Please Michael, enjoy the party. I have seen a few pretty ladies here.”
“We’ll talk to each other later. Bye.”, Christa chirped happily while following her husband to another married couple.
Going across the ballroom, around all the dancing and chattering couples, Vaughn was happy when he reached the small but exclusive bar.
“A whiskey sour please.”, he told the bartender, a man in his early fifties.
Leaning forward on the table, his folded hands pressed against his mouth, Vaughn closed his eyes and tried to shut out all the talking, the music and the other noises around him. Sleep had been a rare occurrence for him in the last months. Dreamless sleep. One night without any visions of brown-haired lovers.
Hearing the distant noise of a glass being placed on a hard-wooden table (a special tone to everyone who is visiting a dive once in a while), Vaughn uttered a small “Thanks.” But the bartender was away and listened to a sad story from one of his visitors. Well, I could tell him a few of mine, he thought while gazing at the golden liquid in front of him.
Brown-golden.
Like dark coffee chocolate with caramel crispies.
‘Damn, I’m not normal.’
Massaging his temple with his fingers, Michael took a moment before he stood up and took the glass with him. For later.
Going up the stairs, he kept a watchful eye on his surroundings. The last thing he wanted now would be a friend of Christa running after him. He was definitely too tired for something like that. Rounding a corner, Vaughn found his preferred place in the house, a inward-balcony that was a connection between the first and second floor. The architect definitely wanted the hall to look like an opera; the whole room was decorated in rich Bordeaux and golden colours. Big curtains with sparkling velvet ribbons framed the beautiful look out of the windows.
Standing in the shadows of a gigantic pillar in gothic style, only candles enlightened softly his surroundings. Taking a big gulp of his whiskey, Vaughn looked around. The music played a slow and tuneful Waltz of Strauss and a few couples swayed like candles in the wind to the melody. He noticed that Christa and David were one of them. Her face lying on his shoulder, Michael could see the broad smile that was grazing Christa’s face. Smiling at the pair in love, he leaned on the pillar, before he let his gaze wander around again.
And then he saw her.
She was half-shielded by a pillar, much like his. Stepping to his left so that he could watch her better, Vaughn saw her turning her back on him, like she knew that she had a silent admirer.
Her new position allowed him a good look on her bare neck. Only a fine strap around it seemed to hold the lime green dress from falling down. The raven-black hair was stuck up in a loose knot, many curly strands falling freely over her shoulders. He seemed to have grown a sudden attraction to a woman’s neck, he thought bewildered. Noticing the elegant swing of her neck, the way her muscles flexed when she moved her head, the way it met her shoulder blades.... And then she turned around.
Stepped out of the shadows into the bright light.
A broad smile enlightening her face.
More sparkling than everything he had ever seen.
Instantly he wanted to know what had made her smile. Standing on the railing she seemed to watch the people dance.
Maybe he should ask her.
Those four simple words.
Do you wanna dance?
And then she would shake her head, maybe laugh at him, and stalk out of his life.
A thin waiter tripped over one of the stairs, before he stopped somehow awkwardly in front of the beautiful woman. Shyly he whispered something, which seemed to please her. Looking at her watch, a lazy smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s mouth. Nodding fiercely, she followed the waiter down the stairs into the direction of the private elevator. Frowning slightly Michael wondered why a strange woman would be allowed to enter the private floor of the house. ‘Maybe she isn’t a stranger’, he thought somehow delighted. That would mean that Christa knew who she was. He would ask her later about the woman. Until then he would remember the way her hips swung with every step she took, her high cheekbones, the full lips, how her chocolate coloured skin sparkled in the bright light.
In this moment she turned around. Blue met green.
s***. She had noticed him, observing her. He frowned one moment, sweat trickling down his temple. This shouldn’t happen. Nervously he played around with his collar, thinking about a way to save this situation. Well, he could just turn around and leave. Not very nice and completely rude. Or he could stay here like a complete idiot, drooling after her. Not a good option. Alice had damaged him for his life. But she’s away now. Not a part of his life anymore. And now his new life would begin. And his first new intention would be to feel free to flirt with women. Flashing her his most charming smile, he nodded down at her. And now he was waiting. The ball was in her court. Seeing her glancing down at her hand, he had a suspicion. The moment she lifted her hand and the golden band on her ring-finger laughed him beastly in the face, he knew he had been right. Good women are always taken. But there was something about her. A small smile and than the mysterious woman was gone.
Before he could grieve after her, someone tugged him by his sleeve. Turning around he recognized the friendly face of Christa and a young girl who was standing beside her. Pretty too. Not as pretty as the mysterious woman, but today was the beginning of his new life. And it was the first time the brown-haired woman of his dreams wasn’t on his mind.
********
“Okay eagle, I’m inside.”, Sydney whispered in her comm.
“What is with the waiter boy?”
“He’s out.” Denniz lay unconscious in one of the lumber-rooms. He would be out for more than four hours. And then one of the others would surely hear his yelling and knocking.
“Shut down the cameras.”
“Cameras shut down.”
Glancing around, she noticed the small cameras freezing and the green light switching to red. Out and over. Her way was free. Two guards and a small but biting dog later, she
sneaked around a corner to find herself in front of Fellon’s working-room.
Stepping out of her left shoe she pushed one of the little diamonds that decorated her creamy-white stilettos and sighed relieved as a thin needle shot out of the heel. Extracting it expertly she stuck it into the doorknob and waited a few agonizing seconds. One. Two. Three. Nothing. Maybe this new tech-guy Marshall wasn’t as good as Sloane said. Four. Five. Six. And the door yanked open. Maybe she should go to lunch with Marshall when she will come back.
Aware of the special alarm system that would sound if the volume would be over 0,56 decibels, Sydney opened her evening bag to take a mobile phone out of it. Tipping a few numbers in, she waited until she could hear a constant melody. Switching it on loudspeaker, she noticed how the tone faded out slowly.
“You push 2-6-0-5, because, well that’s, that’s my birthday ya know. And when I programmed this the first time, I simply forgot the code. And that...that had been awful. ‘Coz I couldn’t stop the melody anymore and my neighbours dog was barking the whole day and night and day and night. And he didn’t want to stop. So I...”
“We understand Marshall.”
“Oh, okay. Good, good. So...you simply push this numbers in and wait until you hear this cute little melody. It’s the beginning of ‘Holding out for a hero’, because I loved this song, so much. Bonnie Tyler. Ya know it, right?”
“Marshall.”
“Right. Sorry. You hear the song. You can listen to it a bit, if you want Miss Bristow. Than you turn the loudspeaker on. After exactly 6 seconds you won’t hear a single note anymore. That’s because our human ear can’t hear on this frequency. It will lay over the sound system of the alarm system. During you have this on, you can throw a party in the office and nobody would notice it. But you can’t use a phone, or comms during that time.”
“Going radio silent, eagle.”
“Copy that sunflower.”
Walking quickly into Fellon’s office, Sydney shut the door quietly before rushing to his desk. The hidden drawer was found in one minute. Triumphantly, she threw all the secret papers on the table and searched through them. Nothing.
“Damn.”, she mumbled under her breath. Where could he have hidden those documents? Rummaging around his office, she didn’t think that someone could see her.
She didn’t realize that the kissing couple in the garden would look up to see a dark figure sneaking through the Ambassador’s private rooms.
She didn’t saw them running inside and screaming loudly at the security men.
The girl hysterical. The boy out of breath. “There’s someone in my uncle’s office.”
She didn’t hear them opening the door.
She just heard: “Hands in the air.”
********
“Who is she?”, Michael Vaughn asked while walking up and down. Every once in a while he would look through the glass window that separated the interrogation room from this little office. The walls were painted in a stark white, a complete contrast to the grey that surrounded the woman. She wanted to move, but the manacles on her wrists and ankles prevented that.
“You’re the best for interrogations. And I think we really need your help now.”
Turning to his superior Agent Harting, he could see the desperation in his eyes.
Five hours since they had captured her. Four hours since she sat on this metallic stool. Four hours that only included silence, silence and silence. She didn't even want a glass of water.
“It’s not my job.”, Vaughn sighed nervously, knowing that an argument would follow. Seeing the weird vein popping out on Harting’s temple he knew that he had been right.
“Your job is what I order you.”, the older man shouted at him. Gripping the edge of the wooden desk, he added in a dangerous low voice: “Don’t play rebellious Agent Vaughn. You’re too old for this. And now go in. Ask her a few questions and come out with her name and the organisation she works for.”
“That’s not so easy.”
“Well, that’s your problem now. She broke into the Ambassador’s house. It has one of the best alarm systems of the world and it’s a shame that a young girl could conquer it.”
Realizing that these arguments wouldn’t change his mind, Harting tried another tactic. Circling the desk to sit down, he rotated slowly on the chair until he faced the wall.
“I thought the Ambassador and his wife are your friends. Don’t you want to know what she was after?” Vaughn knew that he wanted to say: ‘Don’t you want to know if she wanted to kill them? To torture them?’ But he doubted that. Glancing at the captured woman who was working hardly on her escape he must smile inwardly. She seemed to be a fighter.
“Documents. I am sure she was after them. I would like to know which exactly she was after, but...”
“No but Agent.”, Harting stopped him with a raised hand. “The accident with Balliani had been tragic but it wasn’t your fault. Nobody could’ve thought that he would get a heart attack. He had faked it often enough. And I’m sure the lovely little lady here is very healthy.”
“Donald, don’t you think that we should call the doctor?”
Panic.
The breathing ragged.
Heart beating wildly in an unsure tact.
The dance of death.
“No, he fakes it. I’m sure. He played this number three times yesterday.”
“He doesn’t breathe anymore. I run and call the doc.”
Angst.
One hand on the doorknob.
The other one on his cell phone.
Heart had stopped.
The symphony had ended.
“You won’t.”
His face distorted. Because of revenge and sick happiness.
Loud shouting.
Hand on his gun.
The retort straining his drum skin.
Blood flooding the grey floor.
Pain radiating from his leg.
Black surrounding him.
You could still see the fresh wound. Only a flesh wound, but it represented a bad memory. One week ago had this happened. Only one week.
Harting could see the young Agent in deep thought, his eyes clouded with the terrible memory. One short second he felt sympathy for him, but it was replaced quickly by his sense of duty. “Besides, Agent Ferris wasn’t in a healthy mental state. He wanted revenge and would have killed Balliani no matter what you’ve done. I know you didn’t want to be part in interrogations for the next few weeks, but now we need you Agent Vaughn. So go in and find out the truth.”
Looking through the thick glass Vaughn watched how Sydney hadn’t stopped the fight against the restraints that held her down. Shifting her weight in the chair, she began to rock it slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the door. After a few seconds she lost balance and felt hard on the floor. Wanting to help her, Michael watched with much surprise how the mysterious woman rolled with much effort around, so that she could kneel. Smiling triumphantly she actually accomplished to lift her bounded hand over the back of her chair. ‘Not bad.’, Vaughn thought quite impressed, before he turned to his senior officer.
“I’ll do it.”
Nodding happily Harting grabbed his phone, but haltered in his movements when he heard Vaughn saying:
“But before I go in, I want her to have a shower, to remove her wig and the contact-lenses. I want to see her and no alias. Ah and before I forget it. Please don’t let her escape.”, with a wink Vaughn closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief.
***
tbc...
Like it? Hate it?
Tell me.
Love, D.
derevkointraining
Cadet
ooohh!!! they will come face to face with their dreams!!
LOVE IT
great update!!
LOVE IT
great update!!
Chicketepee
Cadet
oooooooooooo
luv it
can't wait for more
thanks for the pm
update soon
luv Chicketepee :seehearspeak:
luv it
can't wait for more
thanks for the pm
update soon
luv Chicketepee :seehearspeak:
Wow. Great update! I was quite disappointed to see that the two had their memories erased, but my hope was renewed with this chapter . I'm glad to see that Vaughn is unattached, now we just have to get rid of Noah.... maybe he'll tragically get eaten by a walrus, conveniently leaving Syd single --enter Vaughn-- and they live happily ever after! :lovers:
ok, maybe not. I'm sure your plot twists are way better than mine...
looking forward to the next update!
Chels
. I'm glad to see that Vaughn is unattached, now we just have to get rid of Noah.... maybe he'll tragically get eaten by a walrus, conveniently leaving Syd single --enter Vaughn-- and they live happily ever after! :lovers:ok, maybe not. I'm sure your plot twists are way better than mine...
looking forward to the next update!
Chels
Vaughn-a-holic!439
Cadet
omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg, thats awesome. i llovin it
theyre gunna meet again, i hope they know each otha
-luv Em
i llovin ittheyre gunna meet again, i hope they know each otha
-luv Em
PointguysGirl
Cadet
YAY!!! She has some memories left!!! Pretty nice memories too...
OMG! That was really hilarious between them
All that screams JACK!!! :angry:
I was like, blue???
And I'm sure she will escape before Vaughn gets to her
Update was awesome!
6helterskelter6
Cadet
OMG SOOOOOOO GOOD!!!!!
soccer_sweety_18
Cadet
awesome update i hope syd and vaugh remember each other!
i hope syd and vaugh remember each other!scullymulder1234
Cadet
Wow...that was AWESOME. I love it -- can't wait until they 'meet'.