The Double Cross

Title:The Double Cross
Author: Samantha Greene
Summary: S/S. “Sequel to Shades of Gray.”
A/N: As this is the sequel to Shades of Gray, you probably need to read that one or this story won’t make sense. “Shades of Gray” was sort of an alternate future that takes place before Counteragent, but this does contain bits of future shows, so to be safe, spoilers for everything past Counteragent.
And a big thank you to everyone who supported “Shades of Gray.” Hope you enjoy the sequel!
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of alias. all property of jj abrams, abc, bad robot, etc.c

CHAPTER 1


Sydney’s POV
******

I must have fallen asleep, because I awoke nearly half an hour later to Sark gently shaking me awake.
“Sydney, we’re almost at the CIA facilities. I’m sure we’ll have to be taken in for debriefing before they let us go.”
My father turned to address us both.
“Afterward you’ll be taken to safehouses. Until Sloane is brought in, you’ll remain in protective custody. You can return to your residenses after we secure them. In the meantime, we could use your help. Tomorrow there’s supposed to be a strategy meeting for catching Sloane. You’re both invited.”
He gave me a meaningful look.
“You’re invited as an agent of the CIA.”
I stared at him in surprise for a few moments. Dad smiled at my shocked look and nodded.
“You will be fully reinstated as an agent if you want to. You have time to decide.”
Dad next turns to Sark.
“Despite your immunity, you and Irina can’t be added as CIA agents. However, we could definitely use your help. Devlin has approved both of you to work on as freelance agents. At the meeting, we-”
“Jack!” my mother cuts him off, grabbing the steering wheel and jerking the car back to the right. “Watch where you’re going! You’re a worse driver than when I met you.”
Dad frowns and turns around.
“I happen to be an excellent driver. As I recall, you’re the one that drove an entire car into a body of water. I don’t see how you can be any better than I am.”
Mom rolls her eyes, although she is grinning.
“If you remember correctly, that was a purposeful wreck. You’re the one that was driving on the wrong side of the road a minute ago.”
“These lanes are very small, Laura. It’s almost ridiculous in an SUV of this size. And besides, I was not driving on the wrong side of the road. The car just drifted over a bit.”
Sark and I both turn to each other, Sark looking as if he wants to laugh at this exchange.
“They were like this when they were married,” I whisper to him. “It’s really like a bizarre flashback. And you notice mom didn’t correct him when he called her Laura.”
Sark just shakes his head in amusement. We pull into the CIA parking garage, and a team of agents leads Sark and I away for debriefing. Seven grueling hours later, I emerged from debriefing, exhausted. Sark was still in debriefing, so I didn’t see him until the next morning. I had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning fitfully until the phone rang at 6:30. I answer on the second ring, wondering idly who would be calling, since I am at a CIA safehouse. A familiar voice cuts into my consciousness and snaps me back to the present.
“Sydney. Did you sleep well? Enjoying your new housing arrangements?”
My eyes widen at the sound of Sloane’s voice.
“How did you get this number?”
“Yes, you would like to know that, wouldn’t you? I, personally, find it very surprising that you are already reinstated to agent status. And your mother and Sark, both as freelance agents. Interesting.”
I’m unnerved by just how much Sloane knows, but speak quickly so Sloane can’t hear how much he’s upset me.
“Look, I don’t really care what you think. And whatever knowledge you think you have, it’s wrong. If I were you, I’d enjoy what free time I had remaining. It won’t be long before you become a permanent resident of a glass and concrete cage.”
Sloane laughs.
“Overconfident as usual, Sydney. You think you’ve got this whole thing figured out. I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. After all, I know precisely where your roomates are.”
I grasp the phone tightly with hands that are suddenly shaking. Sloane’s laughter sounds from the phone, and I angrily throw the phone against the wall, where it crackles loudly, falling apart into several pieces, and then finally falling silent.

**********
**********


Still worried from Sloane’s call, I take a long hot shower to calm my nerves. I finish getting ready, only to discover I have over an hour before I need to leave for the meeting. The doorbell rings several times, almost an anxious sound. I cautiously peak out the peephole, irrationally afraid that I’ll see Sloane on the other side of the door. Instead, I’m greeted by the sight of a very agitated Sark. I quickly pull the door open, smiling at him.
“Are you all right?” he asks, eyes darting through the apartment nervously, as if expecting rogue agents to jump out from behind a corner.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Come on in.”
“I tried calling, several times. I got nervous when no one answered.”
I quickly paste on a fake smile.
“I was really tired. I just took the phone off the hook so I could get some sleep.”
Sark hears the slight quiver in my voice. He frowns and looks down, then his expression darkens as he spots the phone behind me.
“I wasn’t aware that taking the phone off the hook involved throwing it against the wall.”
“I was angry that we didn’t catch Sloane. I just needed to throw something.”
“It’s more than that; you’re still upset. Sydney, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
With that I turn and run, stopping to throw an empty coffee mug in Sark’s direction. It hits the wall over his left shoulder and shatters, pieces raining down on the broken phone. I continue running until I reach the empty lot behind the safehouse, a rather dreary landscape of dry grass and scraggily trees. I sigh and lean back against one of the trees. A moment later Sark’s voice sounds in my ear.
“That was an interesting performance. Is something important going on, or did you just not want to have a conversation with an audience present?”
“Sorry I had to go about it that way, but I needed a convincing reason to get out of the house. Right now the agents are probably to afraid of my wrath to attempt to make us come back in the house.”
Sark smiles ruefully.
“For a moment I was afraid you had gone off the deep end. But when you broke the cup over my shoulder - well, I was pretty sure that if you had actually wanted to hit me with that mug, you wouldn’t have had any problem.”
“Yes, I suppose you have had enough experience with my violent side to know what I’m capable of,” I grin. My smile ends as I think back to the reason why we’re out here.
“Sloane called me this morning. How could he know the number to a CIA safehouse? How would he even know I was at the safehouse? And then he knows all these details - that I’m an agent again, that you and mom are freelancers.”
Sark ponders this new information for a moment.
“That doesn’t leave a lot of options as to where he got the information. There’s absolutely know way he could have gotten into the CIA and bugged the place.”
“Right, and even if he did manage to get bugs in there somehow, all rooms where top secret information is exchanged have jammers in them.”
“Which means he didn’t get his information from surveillance.”
“He has to have someone talking to him.”
“I don’t like how this feels, Sydney. I could count on both hands the number of people that know all that information. So he’s either got a very highly placed mole-”
“Or he has several of them. He could have pasted bits and pieces together.”
“Either way, we need to find out quickly.”
Sark abruptly stopped talking and shifted his gaze past me. I turned to see a nervous looking agent approaching.
“I, I just came to tell you that your car arrived to take you to the CIA headquarters. Whenever you’re ready. Not to rush you or anything. I mean-”
“Thank you,” Sark cuts him off, clearly wanting to be rid of the anxious agent.
We both head toward the car, deep in thought. The drive to the meeting is made in silence.

************
************


The mode at the meeting is very somber and subdued. Kendall starts the meeting with a minimum of introductions and gets straight to the point.
“The CIA is quietly confirming the information given to us my Ms. Derevko and Mr. Sark before acting on it. In the meantine, our number one goal is to capture Arvin Sloane. Unfortunately, we no longer have access to Sloane’s mission plans. So we don’t know specifically where his next target is. However, he seemed pretty desperate to get his hands on Rambaldi’s key. And since the owner is still in possession of the original, it does seem rather likely that he will make another attempt at getting the key.”
“How do we know when he’s going to send in his team?” my father asked.
“We can’t know positively,” sighed Kendall. “However, a large party is to be given two nights from now. With some of the security guards diverted to watching the party, security on the key will be lighter. This would be the optimal time for Sloane to strike.”
I frowned, a problem occuring to me.
“I thought we were trying to get our hands on Sloane. But he certainly won’t be leading the team in. He’s on the Interpol most wanted list. Isn’t it risky letting Sloane get the key just to catch him?”
“That’s the second part to our plan,” Kendall said. “As you and Mr. Sark are already experienced in the layout of the building, you two will be sent in with a replica of the key. You will steal the key before Sloane’s team does, replacing it will a forgery. Out techs have designed a replica of the key, with a tracking chip hidden in it. We intend to track the forgery back to Sloane. Jack, you will be on comms directing the operation, while Ms. Derevko will be in charge of keeping track of Sloane’s operatives and making sure the don’t catch us replacing the key. At this point, reservations have been made at a hotel. Your plane leaves in two hours, so everyone should just have enough time to pack before leaving. If there aren’t any questions, you’re all dismissed. Good luck.”
I remain seated for a minute, trying to digest everything I’ve just heard. A few days from now, and hopefully Sloane and Sd-6, along with the Alliance will be gone. Or not.
Because we could all be walking into a trap.

To Be continued...
 
Title:The Double Cross

Author: Samantha Greene

Summary: S/S. “Sequel to Shades of Gray.”

A/N: As this is the sequel to Shades of Gray, you probably need to read that one or this story won’t make sense. “Shades of Gray” was sort of an alternate future that takes place before Counteragent, but this does contain bits of future shows, so to be safe, spoilers for everything past Counteragent.

And a big thank you to everyone who supported “Shades of Gray.” Hope you enjoy the sequel!

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of Alias.(Thinks of Sark and cries) All belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, etc.


*********
*********


CHAPTER 2

Sydney’s POV

A little over two hours later, I found myself fully packed and waiting on the plane. In the back, my mother and father were quietly discussing strategy. A worried pounding drummed in the back of my head as I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. Thinking back to Sloane’s phone call that morning, I was quietly contemplating who could have given him that information when a hand on my shoulder caused me to jerk upright in my chair.

“Sark, don’t scare me like that! I practically had a heart attack!”

Instantly an apologetic look appeared on Sark’s face.

“I’m sorry. I was just wondering if the seat next to you was taken.”

“No, no one’s sitting there. I didn’t mean to snap at you...I’m just a little keyed up from Sloane’s call this morning.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think we need to tell your parents before we go on this mission. If Sloane knew about all that information, there’s a good chance that he also knows about our current mission.”

“Which could complicate this mission. You’re right, we need to tell them before we go on the mission.”

My parents listened to our tale in grim silence for the next few minutes. By the time we had finished, deep worry lines had formed in my mother’s forehead, although my father was still wearing his traditional poker face. After a few moments of thought my father spoke up.

“The whole success of our mission hangs on the element of surprise that we have over Sloane. The instant he knows that we plan to steal the key before he does, he’ll move up the time of his mission even if it does mean that he has to face more security. And aside from getting the key, he’ll probably be waiting there for us.”

My mothers eyes narrowed as she considered the situation carefully.

“Do we have enough time to get more agents over here?”

My father nodded.

“They can send the concorde. But I’m afraid that if Sloane sees us pulling more reinforcements, he’ll just turn it into a fire fight. And he is more than willing to sacrifice some of his team to get the artifact.”

My mother nods sagely.

“I agree with that. However, that’s not quite what I had in mind...”



********
********


2 Nights Later...


I emerged from my hotel room to find Sark waiting outside for me.

“Ready?”

“As much as I’ll ever be. I have to admit I’m not quite so enthusiastic about this plan as my parents are.”

“I’m not very happy about being bait either, love. But on the whole it appears to be a sound plan. And you know you’re the person I’d most want to be fighting next to.”

I smile to myself at this comment. Knowing who Sark is, this is a high compliment indeed. However, my nervousness returns twenty minutes later when we quietly remove the ceiling vent and lower ourselves to the ground in front of the safe.

“That was too quiet. Shouldn’t there have been more guards?”

Sark silently nods in agreement.

“Let’s just switch the keys and get out of here. I don’t like the feeling of this. Watch the doors while I open this.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a voice sounds from the far back door. Sark and I turn to see Sloane staring at us with a smug smile, a gun trained on us.

“My, my, we’re getting sloppy, aren’t we? Thought you knew exactly what my plan was, didn’t you? Or were you relying on your mother to take out my entire team?”

We both stare at Sloane with identical wide-eyed expressions.

“Yes, I already saw Irina. My team has already retrieved her. They are now returning for both of you. So I wouldn’t try anything, because I would definitely say I have more backup than you do.”

Sark and I both slowly place our hands in the air and face Sloane, waiting for his next direction. Less than half a minute later, his team of eight file in through the door. They are garbed in similar black outfits, masks covering their faces to reveal only their eyes.

“Bind them,” Sloane commands, and two members start toward us.

I bite back a smile as a pair of exceedingly familiar green eyes twinkle at me. Our hands are forced behind our backs, but instead of being put in handcuffs, I feel the grip of my gun slide against my palm. In the same instant, both Sark and I, along with Vaughn and Weiss behind us, bring out guns out and level them at Sloane. Startled, he steps back to see my parents, along with the other six members of our team, masks now removed, aiming guns at him. Sloane shakes his head in amazement.

“Sydney, Jack, you never fail to surprise me.”

“Your team was probably more surprised,” my mother comments quietly.

Sloane shoots her an angry look, shifting uncomfortably as he does so.

“Did you get the real key?” Sark asks.

My father shakes his head.

“We have his entire team in custody. The key wasn’t on any of them. Unfortunately, the tranq darts don’t wear off for another hour, so we can’t question them. But I would assume that you have it,” he says, talking to Sloane.

Sloane nods, spreading his arms, in surrender, as I see the metal glinting in his hand. I quickly grab the key away from him as Sark slaps handcuffs on him. I hand the key to my father who smiles grimly at Sloane. He addresses Sark and I.

“We’ll take care of the eight members of his team. The local authorities have agreed to house our prisoners until we can get them sent back home. If you two can get Sloane to the police station, we’ll be along in an hour or so. I want to make sure all the loose ends are tied up first.”

“Yeah, Dad, we’ll take Sloane in now. We’ll wait at the station in case you need any more help. See you in an hour.”

With this we move to the unmarked black van we came in, loading a handcuffed Sloane into the back before driving away.

************
************


Jack’s POV

2 Hours Later

The tranq darts wore off sooner than I expected, leaving the added headache of prisoners who were fully conscious and seriously angry. Worse still, these people were trained to fight back, in or out of handcuffs, and serious time was lost before all the prisoners were loaded into the two remaining vans. As we pulled into the police station, I noticed with some concern that I didn’t see the other van here. But when I realized we were almost an hour later than I said we would be, I figured Sydney and Sark had grown tired of waiting and left.

In the station, I recognized an old friend, Emil, who I had met in one of my first years with the CIA. Our conversation soon turned to family, and Emil was shocked at how little Irina had changed in the twenty years since he’d last seen her.

“And your daughter? What is she like now?”

I explained that Sydney had been in earlier, bringing another man who was also in our custody.

“No, this is the first arrest we’ve processed all night. There hasn’t been any girl in here.”

Alarms going off in my head, I immediately dial Sydney’s cell phone. No one answers. After quickly outlining the situation to Irina, she calls Sark’s cell phone. Once again, no one answers. Frustrated, Irina and I turn to each other, unsure of what to do next. Finally we settle for reporting the make, model, and license plate of the van they were driving, then setting out in search of them ourselves as soon as our prisoners are booked. Emil assures us that squad cars on patrol will be told to keep a watch out for them, and Sloane’s description will be sent out.

Half an hour later, booking finished, we quickly head for the door, and get in another van, anxious to find what has happened to Sydney and Sark. Despite the fact that I know there are rational explanations for this, horrible scenarios run through my mind. After nearly an hour of retracing the route, we are no closer when my phone rings and Irina answers it for me. I head her quiet and subdued responses, and expect news, but she is silent after hanging up the phone. I turn to see her eyes glinting slightly, her voice unusually soft when she speaks.

“Jack, they’ve found the van. It’s overturned in a watery ditch. There’s no one inside.”


To Be Continued...
 
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