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Discussion in 'General' started by syd4747, Mar 5, 2003.

  1. syd4747

    syd4747 Rocket Ranger

    Dec 8, 2002
    Title: Misconceptions
    Rating: PG-13
    Disclaimer: I don't own Alias characters or anything related to Alias. Duh.
    Warning: Contains Deep Cover Sark Theories. If you don't like that idea, you won't like the fic!
    Comments: Please. Much appreciated.
    Distribution: Dark Enigma, A4, SD-1. Anyone else, pm me and I'll probably say yes!


    Sydney gripped the ledge as hard as she could, her feet desperately searching for something to steady herself on, but she found nothing. She could hear a faint scraping sound from the building’s roof.

    Throwing a quick glance down, Sydney saw the busy city streets of Zurich sixteen stories below. The sight made her stomach begin to cramp up. She could feel her fingers slowly sliding on the rough concrete. Her head began to throb from the unpleasant combination of an earlier blow to the skull and the dizziness of looking down. The scraping sound had changed into heavy footsteps, slowly moving towards the edge of the roof.

    How did I end up here? Sydney thought wildly. How could I let this happen? Fear began to take over her body and her mind, making her surroundings seem cloudy, sounds muffled. She felt weak and powerless, knowing she could not hold on much longer.

    The footsteps were above her now. Sydney looked up and saw a person’s silhouette looming above her. Their face was a blur, obscured by a bright light behind them. Sydney knew the end was near.

    “Hello, Sydney.”

    Chapter One

    One week earlier….

    “We have recently received intel concerning the whereabouts of Arvin Sloane. He was last spotted in Schlieren, Switzerland, which is near Zurich,” Kendall told the agents scattered around the conference table. “We have reason to believe that he is holding Neil Caplan somewhere in the vicinity. Jack?”

    Jack Bristow rose from his seat and cleared his throat. “There are three warehouses in or around Schlieren that could potentially store all of the Rambaldi artifacts Sloane has acquired. We believe Sloane and Sark are operating out of this one.”

    Jack pressed a key on his computer keyboard, and a picture of a warehouse popped up on the room’s main viewing screen. Jack continued with his part of the briefing, but Sydney half tuned him out. The mention of Sloane and Sark’s names turned her thoughts to the church in Mexico City. She could feel her stomach turn out of revulsion and hate at the thought of what the two of them did.

    So many lives lost, and for what? Sydney thought. Kendall’s booming voice jerked her full attention back to the present.

    “Agent Bristow and Agent Dixon: you two are on point for this. We want you to go in, confirm whether or not Caplan is there, and report back to a safe house we have set up nearby. There you will receive further instructions. Hopefully--”

    “Wait,” Sydney interrupted, “What are you saying? We’re just going to go in and check the place out, and then leave? Isn’t it in our best interests to try to extract Caplan as soon as possible?”

    “In our best interests to send two valuable agents in to extract Caplan in a warehouse we no almost nothing about? We have no idea how many people are guarding it, if it is rigged with explosives. We don’t know if Caplan is even there. So, no I don’t believe that is in our best interests, Agent Bristow.” Kendall replied, obviously miffed at Sydney questioning his authority. “All right, that’s it. Dixon, Bristow: hopefully you two will fall back into working well together easily.”

    Kendall walked out of the room, most of the agents following behind him. Sydney, clearly upset, turned to Dixon.

    “That’s it? We’re playing it too safely. If Caplan is there, we should just go in and get him, not sit on our hands and await further instructions. We will never stop Sloane if we continue like this! How many more lives have to be lost?”

    “I think he is trying to prevent us from losing ours.” Dixon looked at Sydney and sighed. “Syd, I know you are frustrated, but what can we do? We can only follow orders and do our jobs. I have faith in you, Syd. Eventually we will stop Sloane.” Sydney looked away from him, crossing her arms and giving the door Kendall left through a stubborn look. Dixon got up and left Sydney alone with her thoughts in the briefing room.

    Frustration and anger building up inside of her, Sydney let out a sigh. Sloane had effected in horrible ways not only her life, but so many other lives as well, in the past. She needed to stop him before he could do anymore damage. She had to stop him. After a few moments of sitting in her chair alone, stewing in her depressed mood, she got up. Grimly, she approached the room’s exit to head home and pack.

    “Well, looks like I’m going to Switzerland. Again.”

    To be continued…
  2. syd4747

    syd4747 Rocket Ranger

    Dec 8, 2002
    Chapter Two

    Sark paced back and forth in the main room of the warehouse. He didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach. Sark had dealt with plenty of psychotic criminals before, but this was almost too much. Listening to Sloane’s cruel plans, carrying out his sadistic orders.

    Sark had done many horrible things in the name of his job: kidnapping, stealing, killing. And he did it all with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. It was all a patriotic effort for his country. But it was beginning to get to him.

    Sloane was over on the other side of the room, threatening Caplan again. He was still using the whole “I’ve got your family” thing, even though he knew damn well he didn’t anymore.

    God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to just kill him and be done with this, Sark thought. I’m sick of pretending to be his little lackey. Damn MI5 and their orders!

    Sark remembered everything he had given up for this assignment: his home in Great Britain, his schooling, his real identity. He had convinced himself that these things didn’t matter. Still, sometimes he wondered why he accepted the assignment in the first place.

    Then he would recall how The Man’s organization wreaked havoc on the members of an MI5 team sent to spy on them, killing all but one: Sark. He was here for them; here for revenge. Maybe Sloane wasn’t behind it, but he would be a sufficient substitute for now. Vengeance had hardened Sark’s heart to the point of not caring who he hurt, as long as someone paid for their deaths. Getting rid of Sloane would still be ridding the world of another evil terrorist.

    Sloane calling his name jerked Sark out of his thoughts. Sark cleared his throat.

    “Yes, sir?” Sark replied, fuming inside at the thought of calling Sloane “sir.”

    “I need a moment…alone, with Mr. Caplan. Would you mind waiting outside?” Sloane told Sark, obviously not requesting, but demanding his compliance.

    “Certainly, sir.” Sark answered. I could so take you out right now and not even flinch, you slimy little bastard, Sark thought as he turned to leave the room.

    Sark walked out of the main room of the warehouse and down the dimly-lit hallway. He stopped in front of thick steel door, unlocked it, and walked inside to the small, 5 foot by 8 foot room. Computer screens and copies of various pages of the Rambaldi manuscript took up the majority of the space.

    Welcome to my office, Sark thought sarcastically. Sit down won’t you? Oh, wait, that’s right. You can’t sit down; there’s no floor space in this dump. Well, perch on the edge of a desk, won’t you?

    “I can not believe I put up with this,” Sark spat out to no one in particular. He sat down on the stool in front of one of the computers and reached into his suit’s breast pocket. Sark pulled out his cell phone and began to dial an L.A. number.

    “What can you tell me about our status?”

    To be continued…
  3. Black Hawk

    Black Hawk Captain

    Mar 4, 2003
    [claps for Giz] that's excellent!
  4. syd4747

    syd4747 Rocket Ranger

    Dec 8, 2002
    Chapter Three

    Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles….

    Sydney unlocked the door to her apartment, walked inside, and shut the door behind her. She sighed as she absent-mindedly set her keys down on the counter.

    “Um, hey Syd.”

    Sydney’s head jerked up. Francie and Will were sitting on the couch in the living room. Syd blushed a little when she noticed their disheveled appearance. They had obviously been in the middle of some ‘alone time.’

    “Oh, hey guys. I’m just here for a minute,” Sydney said, avoiding their gaze. “Don’t mind me, I’m not even here.” She began to walk down the hall towards her bedroom.

    “Wait, Syd. Is everything okay?” Will asked, his voice laced with concern. Sydney’s head popped out of the hallway.

    “Hmm? Oh, I’m fine. I just have to pack. I have another business trip.”

    At this, Francie rose from the couch and walked over to Sydney. She placed a hand on Sydney’s shoulder empathetically, but her face lacked emotion. Sydney looked confused for a moment.

    “Another business trip? Sydney, we never get to see each other anymore.” Francie said in a slight monotone. “I live with you, and I feel like I barely even know you anymore.”

    At this, Sydney’s confusion turned to a look of guilt and sorrow. She hated that her job kept her away from her best friend. Francie had plunged the knife into Sydney’s Achilles’ heel, and was beginning to twist it around.

    I wish I could tell you the truth, Francie, but I can’t. Sydney thought. It’s for your own safety. She sighed again and looked Francie in the eyes. They seemed empty and cold.

    “I’m sorry, Francie. I don’t think I’ll be gone for too long. I just have to go to Dallas for a conference. Bank business.” Sydney lied.

    Francie studied Sydney’s face for a moment, and then drew a deep breath.

    “It’s okay,” Francie said, her features somewhat softened. “So, Dallas, huh? Well, all I can say is, you better bring me back one of those ten gallon hats.”

    Sydney felt as though a bit of the weight on her shoulders had been lifted away. She and Francie began to chuckle a bit. Sydney promised Francie that she would try to get one.

    “Well, I have to go to the restaurant. We’re expecting a new shipment of meat today, and I need to be there to make sure it’s up to standards,” Francie said with an annoyed air.

    “Okay, well… I’ll see you later, I guess.” Sydney said slowly, confusion washing over her face again. Francie usually got excited whenever she spoke about her restaurant, but lately she spoke about it as if it were the plague of her life.

    “Okay. Have fun on your trip, if that’s possible at a bank convention.” Francie deadpanned. She walked over to Will and gave him a long kiss goodbye. Syd felt embarrassed to be standing in the room while Francie stuck her tongue down Will’s throat, which in Sydney’s opinion was an inappropriate goodbye kiss. When Francie pulled back from Will, she looked Sydney in the eyes, in almost a menacing way, and then walked out the front door.

    What was that all about? Sydney wondered. She’s acting how a possessive girlfriend would towards her boyfriend’s best girl friend. Sydney shrugged it off as Francie still being a bit miffed at her for taking another trip, but something inside her was still bothering Sydney. She couldn’t shake the thought that Francie was behaving more and more oddly each day.

    “Wow,? Syd said to Will, “That was…”

    “Yeah, I know.” Will said, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s my girl.”

    Sydney forced a smile, but she was still ill at ease. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to Will.

    “So, how are things going between you two? Do you think it’s, you know, going anywhere…commitment-wise?” Syd asked Will. She was hoping Will would tell her if he had noticed anything strange about Francie’s behavior as well.

    A slight blush began to creep up Will’s neck and into his face. He looked away and shrugged his shoulders. Sydney began to laugh a bit and asked him why he was embarrassed.

    “I don’t know,” Will replied, chuckling. “It’s just weird to be talking to you about this. I don’t know where Francie and I are headed, but I would like to think it is somewhere good. Right now, things are great the way they are.”

    “Well, I’m happy for you.” Sydney felt a mixture of conflicting emotions: happiness for Will and Francie, disappointment that Will had not picked up on Francie’s behavior, guilt for feeling disappointed. She attempted to change the subject to hide her feelings. “So, how is work?”

    “It’s okay. Speaking of, you’re not really going to Dallas, are you?” Will asked, a look a concern returning to his face.

    “No. I’m being sent back to Switzerland to find Caplan. Hopefully I’ll find Sloane and Sark there, too. We think we may have found their location.”

    “Yeah, I know,” Will said. “I wrote the report on the satellite surveillance of the warehouse in Schlieren. I figured they would probably send you. I hope you do find those two, and that you beat them to a bloody little pulp.” Will’s right hand was clenched in a fist, the knuckles white. Sydney thought he must be remembering everything he went through because of the demonic duo, Sloane and Sark.

    “Me too, Will.” Sydney said sympathetically, rubbing Will’s arm. She glanced at her watch. “I have to go pack. My flight leaves in two hours.” Sydney ascended from the couch, and once again headed for her bedroom to pack.

    “Okay. I’m gonna head out then. I’ll leave you to it.” Will called to Sydney. She waved to him over her shoulder as she rushed back towards her room. Sydney heard the front door close as she pulled her suitcase-on-wheels out of her closet.

    Because of her many missions in the past, Sydney was used to throwing together a set of clothes in record time. She packed her suitcase neatly, making sure she included everything on her mental checklist. When Sydney was done packing, she grabbed her keys, and headed out the door.

    Later, at the airport....

    Sydney’s kitten heels clicked against the floor of the airport corridor. She was dressed in a beige Chanel knee-length skirt and suit coat, beige shoes, a pearl brooch, and a pale blonde wig done up in a French twist.

    My name is Mitzi Bürgen, and I am from the small city of Schlieren in Switzerland, Sydney thought. I am the personal assistant of a Mr. Henri Chenard, a philanthropist from Paris. We are going to Zurich for a charity event, with a stop-off in Schlieren to visit my relatives. Sydney’s cover for the plane ride to Switzerland was simple enough; she definitely had harder ones to pull off in the past.

    “Mitzi.” Looking around the boarding area, Sydney saw Dixon in a sleek dark brown suit. He held a leather suitcase in his hand. He looked at her with a small, but warm, smile on his face.

    “Bonjour, Monsieur Chenard.” Sydney walked over to Dixon and gave him a quick embrace. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How are you, Dixon? Are you feeling alright about getting back in the field again?”

    “I admit, I was nervous on the way over here.” Dixon said, a slight trace of sorrow distinguishable in his voice. “Diane and I did not part very well either, which did not help matters. But knowing that you will be with me…Well, it brings me a bit of comfort. I know that we have always worked well together in the past.”

    A feeling of warmth and friendship for her partner began to wash over Sydney. She so wanted to make everything up to Dixon; to have things back to the way they were between them before SD-6 crumbled. Sydney was finally beginning to feel like things were starting, albeit slowly, to get there.

    “I’m glad that I am going with you, too. I don’t think anyone else would be able to stop me from going insane over these ridiculous CIA orders.” Sydney smiled resignedly. Dixon smiled a bit at that; it was possibly the first true smile he had shown since he found out the truth, Sydney mused.

    Sydney and Dixon headed over to the rows of chairs and sat down. An awkward pause passed between them when they realized they didn’t know what to say to one another anymore.

    “Oh, I just remembered! I need to call Francie before we board.” Sydney began to fish through her small beige purse for her cell phone. “I called a new plumber to stop by to check out our pipes, since the old one was…unavailable to finish the job.” Sydney stood up and walked near the airport’s corridor, dialing Francie’s cell number as she went.

    “Hello.” Francie’s voice sounded flat and lifeless, although Sydney thought that she detected a twinge of annoyance in it.

    “Hey, Fran,” Sydney said, trying to hide the confusion at Francie’s behavior in her voice, “It’s me.”

    “Oh, hey Syd. What’s up?” Francie sounded distant, distracted. What is going on with her? Sydney wondered.

    “Um, I’m at the airport. I was just calling to let you know that the plumber should be stopping by tomorrow, but it will be a different one. The other guy…had a conflict,” Sydney lied to her friend. She hated to tell Francie lies, but she convinced herself that Francie didn’t need to know about the dead plumber. She was protecting her.

    There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sydney looked at her phone to check if they had been disconnected. Suddenly, she heard Francie’s voice on the phone again.

    “Fine. I’ll get someone to cover for me at the restaurant.”

    “Is everything okay Francie? You seem distracted. I can barely hear you, too.” There was another long pause on the other end of the line.

    “I’m driving right now. I just went through a tunnel. I’m fine Syd.” Francie reassured her. Sydney released a breath she did not even realize she had been holding. That explains it, Sydney thought. Everything’s fine.

    “Okay, well, I’ll see you when I get back.” Sydney said, relieved.

    “Bye.” Francie clicked the end button before Sydney could say ‘goodbye’ back. I thought she would never shut up, Francie thought as she set her phone down on the table next to her. She’s getting too suspicious.

    Francie turned back to the transmitter radio in front of her. She pulled her chair closer to the table and put on a pair of headphones. She turned the volume knob up a notch, and continued listening to the feed. A small, satisfied, slightly evil smile began to spread across her face. I am so good, she thought.

    Suddenly, her cell phone began to ring again. Francie glared at the black Nokia and reached for it across the table. That better not be Bristow again, Francie thought, rolling her eyes. She checked the number on the phone and pressed ‘answer.’

    “Hello.” Francie stated, emotionless.

    “What can you tell me about our status?” It was Sark, calling from Switzerland.

    “I’m listening to feed from the bug I placed on Tippin as we speak.”

    “And?” Sark said impatiently.

    “It seems that the CIA has become aware of your whereabouts. They are sending Agent Bristow and Agent Dixon to confirm their intel. They are on a flight to Zurich right now. And they are on their way to Schlieren after that.”

    “Dammit.” Sark said, annoyance turning into contempt, but not showing in his voice. “Keep me informed.” Sark hung up the phone.

    “Yes, sir.” Francie said into the dial tone. She set down the phone and restored the headphones to her ears. The satisfied smile began to return to her face.

    “Fools. All of them fools.”
  5. *Agent Legolas*

    *Agent Legolas* Rocket Ranger

    Feb 26, 2003
    Southern California
    WOW!!!! :o :woot: This is REALLY good!!! Please write more!!! ^_^
  6. Scarlet Crystal

    Scarlet Crystal Bibbity Rabbity

    Dec 30, 2002
    wow, great! :)
  7. syd4747

    syd4747 Rocket Ranger

    Dec 8, 2002
    Thanks to Laura for being my beta and to Jen for helping me with my writer's block. Here's the long-awaited chapter 4. This totally didn't end up going where I first planned it to. It seemed to have a mind of it's own :P Please let me know what you think though! :D

    Chapter Four

    “Dammit,” Sark spat into the phone, trying to contain himself. The last thing he needed was for Sydney Bristow to come here and distract him from his work. “Keep me informed,” he huffed.

    Sark pressed the end button on his cell phone and began to slam it down on the table. He stopped his arm at the last minute, and gently placed the phone atop one of the many piles of paper. Sark sat back in his chair and absently touched his fingers to his lips, deep in thought.

    You know that your boss has become psychotic when your office goes from only having a desk and a glass of water to having fifteen-odd piles of papers and charts, several computers, loads of files, and absolutely no room to breathe in less than one week, Sark mused. I need to get out of here; I need to go somewhere to think clearly.

    Sark rose from his chair and walked out of the cramped office. He began to stride down the hallway towards the warehouse’s exit, when a crashing sound stopped him in his tracks. It came from the large main room where Sloane had Caplan. Sark assumed Sloane was still trying to get information out of him, and it was becoming violent.

    Bloody Hell…Don’t tell me I have to go in there and play referee, Sark thought with a roll of his eyes. He listened for a moment at the door. After hearing nothing but silence for the next few moments, Sark lightly rapped on the door.

    “Who is it?!” Sloane irritably yelled through the door.

    “Sir, its Sark. Is everything alright in there?”

    “Fine! Everything is just fine. Caplan and I are simply…discussing matters.”

    Sark sighed and rolled his eyes once again. He continued to walk towards the exit of the warehouse, nodding a hello at the guards as he walked outside. He walked about twenty yards or so away from the warehouse doors and took in a deep breath.

    Sark stared out at the picturesque sunset over the Alps in the distance. Beautiful shades of orange, pink, and lavender laced throughout the evening sky. Sark drew in a deep breath and took in the scenery encircling him, attempting to clear his muddled thoughts.

    If only she would just get out of my head, Sark thought. This is the woman I am supposed to be arch-enemies with. Why the hell am I so attracted to her? Sark let out a long sigh and tried to focus on the matter at hand: what to do about Agents Bristow and Dixon coming to Switzerland.

    Obviously, his main concern was to move the Rambaldi artifacts elsewhere. Although he did not particularly like Sloane having the artifacts at his fingertips, he didn’t want the CIA to get them either. After all, he was working for MI5; he didn’t want a bunch of yankees stealing his thunder.

    Luckily, Sloane at least had the common sense to have his own cargo jet ready at a whim. For now, Sark supposed they would have to move the artifacts to the villa in Tuscany until more suitable location could be found.

    As far as Caplan was concerned, he needed to be moved as well, but it was a risk. Caplan needed to stay in Switzerland in order to have access to his company’s computers, so he could complete his work on the Rambaldi machine. He needed to be moved somewhere quickly though.

    Well, there is always Zurich, Sark mused. The company’s headquarters are there, and we could book a hotel room and not seem conspicuous. We would just appear to be men on a business trip.

    Sark was wondering if he was working a bit too hard to convince himself that this was a good plan. But, they had the disadvantage of lack of time, so this would have to do for now. Besides, he couldn’t approach Sloane with the news of Bristow’s and Dixon’s soon-to-be arrival in Switzerland without also supplying a plan of action.

    He took in one last deep breath of the evening air, and turned back towards the warehouse to face Sloane with the bad news. An old adage kept playing in his mind like a mantra: Don’t kill the messenger of bad news. Sark was tough, and could handle himself easily, but Sloane was psychotic. Sark was beginning to fear that any little thing could set him off, causing him to pull out a gun and shoot the entire place down.

    Sark strode down the hallway, maintaining his confident air in front of the guards. He walked up to the large doors of the main room where Sloane and Caplan still remained. Pressing his ear against the thick steel doors, Sark attempted to listen to the conversation between Sloane and Caplan, but heard nothing other than silence.

    That could be either a good or a very, very bad thing, Sark contemplated. Hope the old windbag didn’t go off and kill Caplan. That’s all I need. Another death to explain to MI5.

    He knocked on the door politely, but with just the right amount of force to convey its urgency. Sark could hear footsteps beginning to approach the door. He waited patiently, going over in his mind what he would say to reassure Sloane.

    The footsteps were moving at a sluggish, almost deliberate pace. Sark rolled his eyes and wondered if perchance Sloane was getting too old for his job. Perhaps all the harassing of hostages was beginning to wear him out a bit too much. Sark chuckled a tad at the thought and looked around the hallway, growing impatient.

    Suddenly, the door burst open. Sloane stood in the doorway, a look of slight alarm on his face. He cleared his throat and motioned towards the room.

    “Come in here, please, Mr. Sark.” Sloane muttered almost incomprehensibly.

    Sark cocked an eyebrow in slight confusion, but never the less walked into the main room. The door slammed behind him, causing him to jump a little. He looked to Sloane’s right and saw, to his amazement, Caplan, pressing a Glock 34 into Sloane’s rib cage. Sark recognized the gun as being Sloane’s.

    Caplan’s eyes were ablaze as he signaled Sark to move over to the desk where Caplan himself had recently been chained. Sark cautiously began to inch over towards the table, running his options through his mind, while at the same time wondering how in the hell Caplan got free and got a hold of Sloane’s gun.

    Bloody magician, Sark thought, baffled. How in the--

    “Sit down in the chair.” Caplan demanded, keeping his voice low. Sark smoothed out his suit coat as he sat gingerly in the chair, as if to say to Caplan that these demands would not even come close to flustering a man of his stature. After he was seated, he looked up at Caplan and raised his eyebrow in a bit of a challenging fashion, tired of dealing with amateurs. To his surprise, Sloane was the one to speak.

    “Sark, I need you to stay here.” Sloane mumbled as Caplan began to hastily put Sark in his old handcuffs. Before Sark could think of how to stop him without Sloane getting shot in the process, he was locked up. Caplan went back to his tight grip on Sloane.

    Sark stared up at the two, confusion and a bit of panic washing over him. The CIA would be here soon, and all of the artifacts were still on the premises. Sark was at a bit of a loss as to what he should do. His cell phone was still in his office, among the many papers.

    “I have agreed to escort Mr. Caplan out of the perimeter. You’re in charge here now, Sark.” Sloane gave him a hard stare, and then Caplan began to move towards the back door. Caplan looked over his shoulder and called to Sark one last time before they disappeared.

    “I hope those chains are comfortable. Wouldn’t want your stay in this place to be an unpleasant one.” And with that, they were out of the room. Sark could hear the shouting of guards, and Caplan yelling threats of Sloane’s demise. Slowly, the sounds began to fade with distance. Sark sighed as the panic passed and annoyance began to set in.

    “Well. Now what?”
  8. smegheadalways

    smegheadalways Rocket Ranger

    Mar 29, 2003
    U.K, Liverpool
    :D Good, work! Like the way you write!

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