Location Unknown

Agent Carley Phillips. CIA.

“Ummm…Director Kendall?” Carley said, approached the bald man. He turned around, waiting for her to continue. “Sir, I was just wondering, why don’t we have more agents searching for the Bristows?”

You could have more people out there. No one’s going to find them just sitting at their desks. Let’s follow some of these leads.

“Okay, Phillips. I’m going to be straight with you. I let you go to France just as a concession, but I am really sick of hearing your opinion about Derevko and Sloane. You didn’t find Derevko in France.”

“But, Director Kendall, there were obvious traces of her….”

Kendall interrupted her. “No more than mere assumptions, Phillips, and there was nothing to follow up on. This is my operation. I’ll run it how I see fit.”

Then we’ll never find them! You’ve got to actually look.

Carley was stomping back to her desk when her cell phone rang. “Carley Phillips,” she said, exasperated. She wanted to snap, “What do you want?” but restrained herself.

“I’m sorry, Agent Phillips. This is Michael Vaughn.” What ever happened to him? He called me but never followed up. Did he ever find anything? “I was just wondering about your search for Derevko. Did anything ever come out of the leads you found?”

Carley felt a little strange divulging the information to Vaughn, but he was actually searching for the Bristows. He wasn’t just killing leads and leaving Sydney and Jack stranded somewhere. “Kendall didn’t want to follow them up,” Phillips said. “Thought there was nothing substantial there.”

“But what did you think?” Vaughn prodded.

“I think Sloane has both Bristows. I’ve checked CIA resources, and Derevko has not been spotted for more than a week either. The last place she was spotted was France. I think there’s a definite possibility that Sloane arranged for her to join him, or he had her kidnapped also.”

“So you think if we find Sloane we find all three?”

Basically. We find one of them, we find all of them. Basic principle. But hearing Vaughn say it made it sound irrational to Phillips. “Well, I did,” she said, “until you said it.”

Vaughn let out a timid laugh. “Agent Phillips, I have a proposition for you. Could I meet you sometime soon?”

“All right,” Carley said, hesitantly. She made plans to meet him the next morning at a nearby park. I wonder what he wants.


Agent Jack Bristow. CIA.

There is no sense in your fighting me, Jack. You can help me, just as I can help you.

“I don’t want your help!” Jack found himself speaking out loud.

If you don’t accept my help, you will not be able to keep your daughter’s life normal, Jack. However, if you cooperate, there is a chance that your daughter might be released.

Why would you release Sydney if I cooperated with you? She’s the one you want.

That’s what you think, Jack. Why would all my plans revolve around one person? I am not that stupid, Jack.

But what about The Prophecy? What about Sloane? He keeps talking about the Prophecy. You keep talking about it!


But Rambaldi was silent. Once again Jack was hit with the realization that he must be insane. Rambaldi couldn’t be inside of his head. Jack looked around the room. No windows. The door was locked. Why did Sloane have him locked up?
 
Agent Michael Vaughn. CIA.

Vaughn was now looking over the FBI report on Rambaldi’s Prophecy. The woman here depicted ... 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. This woman, without pretense, will have had her effect, never having seen the beauty of my sky, behind Mount Subasio. Perhaps a single glance would have quelled her fire. It had to be Derevko. Who else had gone after Rambaldi with such a vengeance? But how could Derevko be the woman in the Prophecy? It didn’t look like her. It looked like Sydney, exactly like Sydney.

My sky. Sydney saw the sky, but Rambaldi’s sky? Mount Subasio.

Before Vaughn even knew what was happening, he was on a plane to Italy. Assisi. He didn’t know why he was going there. But if Sloane and Derevko were after Rambaldi, this all had to relate back to the Prophecy. It was the only way Sydney could fit into their plans. For some reason he thought Mount Subasio held the clue.


Marshall Flinkman. CIA Op-Tech.

Marshall was once again spelunking on the CIA network when he found a network intrusion. He raced away from his desk. “Director Kendall? Uhh…Director Kendall, sir??” Marshall hadn’t seen him yet, but kept repeating the name. Finally, Kendall turned away from a group.

“What is it, Marshall?” Kendall said, exasperated.

“Well, uhhh, sir…I was just checking out this…uhh…spam message that I got…trying to reinforce the CIA’s blocking system…and…uhh…”

“Marshall get to the point!” Kendall snapped.

“We’ve had another intrusion sir. An e-mail. Says it’s from Agent Bristow.”

“Why didn’t you say that Marshall?” Kendall yelled, taking off at a run.

All I did was try and tell you! You don’t have to snap at me! Oh, yeah...Sydney.

Marshall took off after Kendall.


Agent Carley Phillips. CIA.

Carley was sitting at her desk when commotion exploded around the tech center. She turned to the agent next to her. “Hey, Al. What’s going on?”

Al looked up at Carley. “Oh, some e-mail sent in from outside the network. Supposed to be from Bristow.”

“What?!” Carley said, jumping up. She joined the group around the desk. Kendall was yelling at Marshall, who was typing furiously.

“Can’t you trace it any faster?” Kendall snapped.

“Sir…I…I’m going as fast as I can.” Marshall’s brow was dripping with sweat. “But, you, you most likely won’t get any results. Sloane, Derevko, Jack, they’re smart enough to use, an, an untraceable source.” Marshall started stuttering, his fingers keep flying.

“Well, Marshall, you’d better find a way to trace it! We’re not going to let Bristow slip through our fingers!!”

Carley turned to a young female agent next to her. “What did the message say?”

The agent looked up. “They’re trying to de-code it now.”

What is going on? It’s not exactly that simple to send an e-mail in through the CIA network.


Agent Sydney Bristow. CIA.

Sloane was standing in front of Sydney, but once again, nothing he was saying was discernible. “Rambaldi has the power to make you anything, Sydney. Your life will no longer by that of a mere mortal. You must accept the change that is coming,” he said.

You can’t change me. You’ve tried before, tried to twist me into someone who I wasn’t. I’m not going to let you do this to me.

“You old fool,” she muttered as Sloane left the room. She immediately felt an intense pain pulsing through her veins, traveling to every region of her body.

I’m going to explode. My blood is actually going to start boiling.

Then, as quickly as the pain started, it receded to deep in her abdomen, nestling. Small pangs broke up.

What was that?


Irina Derevko. Former KGB and SVR.

Sloane met with both Jack and Irina in a conference room. Irina and Jack both sat across the table, glaring at Sloane. Irina exploded as soon as he sat down. “How could you do this to all of us, Arvin?”

Sloane looked at her. “What? All I have ever done for you is good things, Irina. I am trying to make your daughter all that she can be.”

Why do you always make it to be about Sydney?

Jack spoke before Irina could even open her mouth. “Do not give us that felgercarb about Sydney! She’s always been just an experiment. First it was Project Christmas. Then it was Rambaldi.” Irina looked over at Jack. His eyes had turned to steel. Irina could see him trying to shoot daggers at Sloane. She’d never seen Jack this mad, except at her, when she turned herself in to the CIA. It always hurt her to see the devotion he held for Sydney. Why couldn’t he show Sydney how much he loved her?

“Haven’t you seen it yet, Jack? Project Christmas was only a method to secure Sydney. I was only beginning my study of Rambaldi at that time. It wasn’t even ten years along, but I knew you and Irina had something to do with his final truth.”

“What do you mean?” Irina spat. It has always been about Sydney. Not about us.

“Now that ask, Irina. Rambaldi had a second Prophecy, one the CIA never knew about, nor the Alliance. It was the first piece of Rambaldi I ever saw, and now, it has become the most important.”
 
Agent Jack Bristow. CIA.

Do you see now, Jack? It wasn’t just about Sydney.

Jack looked at the piece of parchment in front of him, staring at the diagrams, everything on the page. At the bottom of the page were two pictures—Jack and Irina. It looked exactly like a younger version of them. In fact, it was identical to one of their wedding pictures. Jack could see that Irina shared the same thought. Jack recognized the writing, characteristic of Rambaldi’s late work.

But what does it say?

“This is all well and good,” Irina said, “but a picture of the two of us is not going to chance things. What does it say?” Sloane handed each of them a piece of paper. Jack quickly scanned the word.

“Two people, united under false pretences, shall influence the order of this world. This woman, though not herself, shall fall and rise again. This man shall inherit the bounty of the union. Together these two will create the most powerful being, the woman who will bring meaning to my words.”

“And that’s only the beginning,” Sloane said. “Rambaldi found you two fascinating. You’ll notice he makes direct references to your marriage, and to your identity, Irina. You cannot deny that this man knows what he is talking about.” Another page with a picture of Rambaldi’s First Prophecy was placed before them. “This photograph was taken under a black light. You’ll see both or your DNA strands intertwined then Sydney’s DNA next to it.” Sloane handed each of them another photograph. “An X-Ray of the page.” It was amazing, like a family portrait, but one that never took place. The three of them at their current ages stared back at Jack.

Sloane began to recite more of the Prophecy. “’Dived for two decades, these three shall be reunited. Together they will conquer a great evil. Unbeknownst to them, their work will bring chaos to the world.’”

The Alliance—the great evil. Sloane—the chaos. We didn’t know Sloane was behind the Alliance’s downfall. Now he has become more powerful than ever.

“This is insane,” Jack said. “How do we know this is accurate?”

“You can’t,” Sloane said simply. “For that matter, I cannot even be completely assured of its accuracy. It was given to me by someone, the man who introduced me to Rambaldi.”

Irina whispered under her breath, “Conrad.”

Sloane nodded. “You remember well, Irina. Yes. Conrad gave me this paper. It was the first Rambaldi document I had ever viewed. I was stunned by the similarities between the man in the Prophecy and another agent I had seen at the CIA.” He turned to Jack. “That was you.”

No sh*t.

Sloane continued, “And, Irina, you will see that I knew of your communications with the CIA before you even sent Mr. Sark to deliver your request for extraction. It was the only place you could be reunited with Jack and Sydney. For, you see, I already knew of their status as double agents. I could not, however, interfere with this due to the Prophecy. I needed the three of you to come together, to bring me to power.”

You bastard. I worked with you for three decades. My entire relationship with you was based on a piece of paper.

Jack was surprised not to be greeted by pain or the voice of Rambaldi. He looked over at Irina. She was staring at the Prophecy.


Agent Michael Vaughn. CIA.

Vaughn knew the balance in his checking account was dropping amazingly low, but he still rented the gear to climb to the summit of Mount Subasio. The climb took hours. Vaughn knew he should stop and rest, that he was pushing himself too far, but he kept going. At the summit he stood and looked around.

I’m here. Where is she?

His eyes searched wildly. Nothing. Then, he saw it—a few feet away—the sign of Rambaldi carved into the stone.

How could we have missed that when we were here with Sydney? It couldn’t be knew. It must have been there.

Vaughn ran his fingers over Rambaldi’s sign.

What does it mean?

Vaughn clawed at the stone, but nothing happened. “What can it mean?” he said aloud.
 
Irina Derevko. Former KGB and SVR.

False pretences. Not herself. Divided for two decades. It’s me. It has to be. Those pictures; the X-Ray. How could it not be? Even the DNA.

“How could you do this to us?” Irina finally asked, setting down the papers. “How could you not tell us? We were friends, Arvin.”

“Friends, but there were too many lies, Irina. You were not yourself, I was not myself.” Sloane sat poker-faced across the table.

Damn you, Arvin Sloane. It’s not fair for me to criticize his lies. I did the same thing. Poor Jack.

Irina furrowed her brow, searching for some practical explanation of the document. It was a forgery. It couldn’t be real. This was all some enormous farce. How could all the other intelligence agencies not have gained access to this information? But she knew they hadn’t. If they had, they would have come after her family. Not everyone was insane as Sloane. Not everyone would just want to see what would happen.

What about Sydney? What has he done to Sydney?

“But why do you have us all here? Does the Prophecy go on beyond releasing chaos?” It was Jack who spoke up this time. Another paper was handed over the table.

Irina read it under her breath. “Against their will these three shall be brought to my city, joined to me. They shall participate in the creation of a new World Order. No longer divided, they shall be brought together, taught to cherish their bonds. They shall no longer be ruled by mortal expectations, by mortal constraints.”

Immortality? Is that what this is all about? I wouldn’t put it past Sloane.

She continued reading. “They shall try many times to escape their destiny, to break away from the Power, but each time they will fail miserably for destiny cannot be escaped. Nor can it be altered. Such importance rests in their cooperation. Should they manage to free themselves from the destiny that Chaos has set before them, the new World Order shall collapse.”

Chaos? Is that who Sloane thinks he is?

“You think you’re the new World Order, don’t you?” Irina asked when she was done reading.

Sloane looked up at her. “Who else could it be?”

“Have you even considered the possibility that it might be someone else?” Jack said. Irina saw his point. It could easily be someone else, couldn’t it?
 
Yay!!! Somebody has finally typed up a the phrophecy so I can read it. :laughbounce:
Keyword there: Against their will. And I hope the new world order isn't Sloane.
 
AllTheBest Posted on Aug 19 2003, 09:42 PM
“Have you even considered the possibility that it might be someone else?” Jack said. Irina saw his point. It could easily be someone else, couldn’t it?

Ah HA! But who, says she, hardly able to breathe with anticipation.
:cool:
 
Agent Michael Vaughn. CIA.

Light was streaming through the trees. Vaughn was squinting because of the glare. Suddenly, the light was hitting Rambaldi’s sign directly. The light reflected off the stone, running in a line perpendicular to the ground.

Now that’s weird. It’s like that stone can defy all the principles of physics.

Vaughn looked down at his watch. 7:47.

Could it be? 47.

Suddenly, the reflected light began to move, streaming towards Vaughn. He watched in amazement as the ray of light locked on to his body. He felt himself being raised from the ground, floating into the air.


Agent Carley Phillips. CIA.

Carley had returned to her desk when an agent came by. “Meeting. Now,” he said. Carley grabbed a notepad and a pen then followed the agent to the meeting room. It looked like half the agency was sitting in the room. Carley grabbed a seat in the back. They waited a few minutes then Kendall got up and began speaking.

“As everyone in this room knows, we experienced a network intrusion earlier today. An encoded e-mail was sent. The e-mail makes several references to Sydney Bristow.” Kendall turned on a slide of the original message. Carley, though her decoding skills were fairly good, couldn’t make any sense of it. “The agency was finally able to make sense of the message about an hour ago. The first paragraph is Rambaldi’s Prophecy. The second part, however, proves more alluring.” The slide changed and Carley read the text.

“A Triad has formed, a Ring of power. Together three minds will become one. Apocalypse. A new World Order. Unpreventable chaos. You shall find the truth. Two years until the appearance of the lost. Two years until the truth is revealed. To find the Power, find the Source.”

Well, that’s weird. What could it mean? Apocalypse? The Power, the Source. Two years? We’ll find Bristow in less than two years.

Whispers broke out around the room as people finished reading the slide. Carley listened to two agents next to her. “A Triad. It’s got to be Sloane, Derevko, and Bristow. They must have taken her, tried to convert her to their opinions.” Somehow, Carley didn’t see how that was possible. Bristow wouldn’t work with Sloane and Derevko, unless they had some kind of power over her.
 
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