The Hunter and the Hunted

first to comment! yay!

Sydney closed her eyes and forced her heart to slow down to a normal pace. She was cool, she was calm, and she was collected.

She was a f***ing wreck – but at least she was getting her job done.
i like it.

ames, you are really really amazing. i can't compliment you enough to justify it. wow. i adore it. i never feel like i'm reading a fanfiction when you write, i feel like i'm actually watching it all unfold.



Oct 24, 2004
while i wanted to repley to your faboulus update 2 days ago the site broke down, so sorry for my "late" repley. so here it is: :D

hi there,
as my spoken english is not that perfect i just quote m-c

ames, you are really really amazing. i can't compliment you enough to justify it. wow. i adore it. i never feel like i'm reading a fanfiction when you write, i feel like i'm actually watching it all unfold.
you´re brilliant. it`s a pleasure reading your story. :rolleyes:
....and you posted 2 chapters again. now, now i might get used to that luxury :angelic:

thank you.

....where is everybody??? i mean your story is f... great. come on guys! but then again, with just the 3 of us replaying it´s very....personal and cosy :)


Aug 18, 2005
Amy, I love this! After I read this I went and read almost all of (if not all) of your completed fanfic!! It always leaves me wanting more and more. Please when you update PM me! Thanks!
Just Fantastic!

I edited to add - YOU are the one who got me addicted to Sarnkey! I just love how you write their relationship.. it has made me become "annoyed" with Vaughn, and wishing ALIAS had more lime scenes! :) Thanks again


Oct 24, 2004
hi amy-lynn
please don`t give up on that great story, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!!!
i`m still out here


Oct 4, 2005
Simply brilliant. Wow. Sydney is getting to Sark. Don't stop now!

Please, please, please pm should you decide to update this fab fic.


amy lynn

The Polish Pirate
Mar 23, 2004
I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update! I've been crazily busy this semester with school. Here are the next two chapters...I hope you all enjoy!


The next day – Rabat, Morocco

All flirting was put aside. That was the first thing that Simon noticed. From the moment he stepped on the plane with Sark, he realized that Sydney had a whole new attitude. He was surprisingly hurt, and left wondering where her sense of fun and adventure had gone.

But there was no time, place, or way to have that conversation. Besides Simon wasn’t supposed to care – that was the game that they had played. Sydney obviously didn’t care, so he decided he wouldn’t either.

Hours later, Simon was waiting in a car, two blocks away, while the other two were watching Cummings, and getting acquainted with her habits, her routine, and her work.

Sydney and Sark were dressed casually: jeans, cotton shirts, and a bandanna pulling back Sydney’s hair. It was time for work. They were watching carefully from a rooftop, waiting for Toni Cummings to leave the rented space that served as her office and home for the job here in Morocco.

Sydney wiped the sweat that somehow still dripped down her face, neck, back, and everywhere else she could imagine. For the past two hours they had sat there, in the same position, not speaking or even looking at the other.

Simon was in the background over the intercom, attempting to at least get them to talk business. The silent treatment was very odd – considering how Sydney and Sark had been at each others throats the whole plane ride.

He wasn’t successful, so after a while, he just sat quiet – ready to inform them of any trouble at a moments notice.

Hours passed by, and they were all silent, watchful, and waiting.

“So, in the briefing, Irina mentioned that you knew more, but did not tell either me or Simon anything more,” Sark spoke, jumping her out of her trance.

Sydney looked up slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face, going back over the information discussed in the briefing.

“You know that Toni Cummings is a security expert that designed an essentially impenetrable system for house of the Covenant’s second in command.”

Simon’s voice crackled through their ears, and they could detect a faintly annoyed tone. “Yes. But we already knew that. Tell us who this man is.”

Sydney’s laugher trickled into the air thick with heat and the smell of sweat, “Actually, it’s a woman.”

Sark’s eyes widened, as Irina had not mentioned that to him. He wondered why she had not deemed that important, since the leadership of these organizations still tended to be male dominated, with the exception of Irina herself. So he asked, “Well then, who is this woman?”

Sydney rolled her eyes as she detected what she thought was heightened male interest with the knowledge that they were going after a woman. She paused for a moment, not saying anything.

Simon’s voice came back over the lines, “Well Sydney, are you going to answer us?”

Sydney did, eventually, going back over the information she had received thanks to those needles of fire. “According to Cole, she goes by la Madame. It’s not that her name is unknown, but she demands that as a sign of respect. She is in her forties, half-French and half-Russian, extremely intelligent, delightfully violent, and apparently quite sexy. I think we all know how Cole wormed his way into higher status by that last statement.”

Simon was skeptical, having known Cole very well over the past few years. “You don’t mean to say – “

Sydney smiled as Sark rolled his eyes at his friend. She responded dryly, “I mean exactly what you think I mean. How else do you think he knew as much as he did? He was not that high up in the ranks. After all, he was partnered with Lauren.”

Simon nodded on his end, “I suppose that makes sense. Do we know her real name?”

“Yes, it does make sense. Her full name I could not get out of Cole. He called her Stacia, in a somewhat dreamy voice, but nothing more. Of course, he was highly delirious due to intense pain at that point. Now, as for what is in the safe. We don’t know exactly. What we do know is that it is very important to the Covenant. They were willing to have their security expert killed in order to keep it safe.”

“I would imagine that it is some sort of manual like the bible was to Irina Derevko’s operation.”

“That would make sense, but we can’t assume too much. Toni Cummings may be able to shed some light on it.”

“Do we know anything else?” Simon asked, trying to draw out the conversation longer, smarting a bit from the fact that he was stuck at the hotel.

“Everything else, which isn’t much, is in the file – including a transcript of my interrogation of Cole,” Sydney replied, her tone implying that maybe he should ask fewer questions and read the intel files more carefully.

It was at this moment that Toni Cummings decided it was time to make her appearance. Sydney and Sark were treated to the sharp intake of breath that came from Simon. But there was no time to ask questions.

When there was a safe distance, Simon pulled out in his car and began his leg of the tailing. Sark and Sydney remained in their position to watch for any signs of activity between now and the time that Cummings returned.

- - -

1 week later – Rabat

They had been tailing Toni Cummings for a week and found out everything there was to know about her. They knew where she shopped, her favorite restaurants to eat at, who her current clients were, and the fact that the Covenant was still after her. They knew all the general facts – except for one very important thing.

Sydney and Sark had yet to learn what connection that Simon might have with her. It was obvious there was some knowledge there, but yet he had failed to say anything at the beginning.

It was logical, in the world they lived in, that he had known her under some form of alias, but he would not talk to them about it.

It was also clear that anything between Sydney and Simon was placed back onto a professional level. Neither smarted from any wound – it was painfully obvious that Sydney was still broken, and Simon had had his fun.

But the past relationship between Cummings and Simon would become an issue sooner or later – and most likely sooner.

The opportunity arose sooner than Simon wanted. The three agents were sitting in the hotel room, going over the last bit of information they had gathered that day from following their target.

It was clear that they had all they needed to know to approach her. And it was clear that it was time for Simon to confess what Sydney and Sark had already deduced, so that their mission the next day went smoothly.

They sat quietly, patiently, and waited for him to begin.

Simon looked at Sydney and Sark and began his story. “I met Toni Cummings five years ago in Greece. We were both there on certain jobs. I was hired to steal a certain precious gem from a wealthy government official – and she was there to design a better security system for him.”

From the way he spoke, no flippancy and no sexual leer, it was clear that she had not been merely a game. Had not been were the key words there – it was also obvious that whatever fleeting feelings of romance he had harbored were just that, fleeting, and after five years completely gone except for in memory.

Simon Walker was drunk. He was so stinking drunk he could not remember where his hotel was.

At least, that is what Toni Cummings thought as she dragged him out of the bar and attempted to hail him a cab.

Since she thought he was drunk, it seemed easier to give him a fake name and send him on his merry way. She had no idea where the name had come from – LaBelle Williamson – it had sounded so false to her ears, but that didn’t matter. He started calling her Belle right away.

She finally got a cab to pull over to the curb, but as soon as he was situated, she realized that she had no idea where he was staying – and neither, apparently, did he. She sighed heavily and slid in next to him, directed the cab to her hotel.

Simon opened one eye and gave a slanted look in her direction. He smiled inwardly and gave a pat on his own back for his acting abilities. Of course, acting drunk wasn’t too difficult for a man who had been so on many occasions previously.

He was getting into her hotel room. He knew that she was working with Liatos on some sort of project, and he was hoping that he could use her as an inside source. So he needed to insinuate himself into her life somehow, and this was the best he had come up with.

Nobody, especially an American, seemed to be able to leave an extremely drunk person to their own devices. She had been no exception to his generality.

The next day it had been difficult to play the hangover, especially when through the night he had realized just how attractive she was. But he did it well enough, and was even able to gain acceptance to a dinner invitation later on that week.

Their relationship lasted only a few short weeks, as they both worked on the same subject – but from very different angles.

In the end, Simon had managed to steal the beautiful yellow diamond just a week before that system was to be installed.

Simon finished up his story with a certain amount of pride, “We never saw each other again and never even had a proper good-bye. Actually, I haven’t ever thought about her until I saw her a week ago. It seems quite ironic.”

Sark took in and then promptly dismissed that aspect of Simon’s story and went on with the business at hand, “Yes, and actually quite useful.”

Sydney saw where his train of thought was going. “We were going to sway her trust by having me go in and ‘save’ her from the Covenant, then force her into helping us. This could work more in our favor.”

Simon looked skeptical, “I don’t know about that. We haven’t spoken in years, I’m sure she has barely thought about me, and it is not like she’ll be willing to just trust me and go with me anywhere.”

Sydney stopped his objections with a cold, hard look. “Those are just pathetic excuses, Simon. First of all, we’ll catch her off guard when you call her ‘Belle’ and second, she’ll remember you. Did she ever know that you stole the diamond?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But I did just disappear.”

Sark stepped in, “And that might make her curious as to why you are showing up after all these years. If you can pique her interest again, then we might have a chance to get to her – and get the information from her.”

Sydney nodded in agreement, “Plus,” she added, “we have proof that the Covenant, after giving Cole and Lauren up for dead, has hired an assassin to kill her. That should sway her to helping us, once we have saved her life.”

It was two against one, so Simon gave in. “Okay, but what happens if she is unwilling to cooperate.”

All the life drained out of Sydney’s face and her voice was carefully blank, “Then we interrogate her, and we do not stop until we have all the information we need.”

They were all silent for a moment. Then Simon spoke with full acceptance in his tone. “When and where?”

- - -

The next day

Toni Cummings was running late to a meeting. It was a quickly scheduled meeting, and she had no idea who she was actually going to find when she got to the restaurant. But that still did not excuse her lateness. She prided herself on being on time to every business meeting.

She smoothed the jacket of her linen suit for the millionth time that day and she was thankful she decided on a skirt instead of pants. The sweltering heat was enough to make even the largest, toughest guy swoon.

She opened the door to the building as was about to step inside, where the air was much cooler when she felt a hand grasp her wrist, and she could not pry it away. It seemed to be made of steel.

“Well fancy meeting you here, Belle, after all these years.”

Her eyes went wide as she heard the name she had not thought of in five years. She heard the same accent, ambiguous in origin, and she remembered clearly the face that went with it – the sinful dark hair, the depthless eyes, and the continuous sneer.

She spun around slowly and looked into the face of Simon Walker.

- - -

Sark was waiting in a discreet black car a block away from the restaurant. He could hear everything that was being said between Simon and Cummings.

He was prepared for any possibility that something could go wrong. It was up to Simon to be convincing.

Sydney was sitting in the restaurant, waiting for Cummings to show up. She was the anonymous meeting that Toni was now five minutes late for.

She could hear Simon laying on the charm, quite thickly, and smiled grimly. From a woman’s point of view Cummings didn’t sound like she was buying any of it.

Sydney had the surveillance photos and conversation transcripts ready to show her in case Simon failed to gain a dinner invite for later.

- - -

Simon watched the uneasy expression in her eyes, as he tried to charm her. Suddenly, it shifted from uneasy to angry. She started ranting on about how he had left her with no word, and after their weeks together, didn’t she mean anything more to him than that?

It was quite genius, Simon decided, and if he had not known her for a liar as well, he might have bought her act. But he knew her little secret. He had more of a right to anger than her, but he felt nothing. However, he could manipulate the situation into his favor quite easily.

He broke of her rant with a curt word and began one of his own. Her eyes widened as he told her coldly that he knew of her deception, her lies, and the truths behind them. His arm still held hers in a steely grasp, and though she tried to break away, her movement was hindered.

“I tried charming you into accepting a dinner invitation, Belle, but you have left me no choice. You will meet me for dinner this evening, after showing me a pleasant afternoon in Rabat.”

Her eyes sparked with anger, “What makes you think I will do that? I have a business meeting that I am now late for, and I have some work to do otherwise.”

Simon laughed, “Let’s just say, you owe me,” his tone was cold, yet held a hint of bitterness over five years ago.

It was a toss up between the two as to who was a better actor. They both performed quite well, but in the end, Simon won out. After all, he had caught her red-handed in a lie.

She nodded quickly in agreement. He smiled, a charming, winner’s smile. “I’ll just call the restaurant and they can give your business associate a message to meet them tomorrow, same time and place.”

That was Sydney’s cue to leave and walk the block down to Sark’s car. Simon would keep her occupied all afternoon and evening, and they would make a search of her apartment.

After he hung up the phone, Simon flashed a grin in her direction, placed her arm in his, and asked quite innocently, “Where to first?”

Toni Cummings rolled her eyes, straightened her back, and led him down the street to her favorite restaurant, “First, we eat lunch, since I’ve missed my lunch meeting now, and I’m hungry.”

Simon winked at Sydney as she walked past the two of them and made his way down the street with Cummings by his side.


Toni Cummings’ apartment – Rabat

Sydney had jumped into the car stealthily, and Sark had woven through traffic with quick ease. They both were eager to get looking. And they were running on a schedule. She was skeptical that Simon would be able to keep Cummings occupied that long.

They had watched her for a week, taking discreet photographs, watching her carefully as she entered the apartment. They knew how to get in undetected. They knew how to get in as if they lived there.

The code had been easy to determine. Codes, actually, that worked on a rotating schedule. They had memorized the rotation. One afternoon, Sydney had put on an alias and slipped in behind Cummings. So she knew the way to the apartment and she knew of the extra security measures that Cummings took.

They slipped in through the back entrance, as they had seen her do multiple times in a day, as the front of the building was too conspicuous. As they wove their way through the maze-like hallways, they could hear Simon’s charming voice, and Toni’s irritated responses.

It would have been better if they could have turned him off, but they needed to keep track of Toni, so they could search. So, with Simon in their ears, they went to work.

The apartment was a large studio, simple yet elegant, and bespoke of wealth. The large area was sectioned off with a bedroom, a workplace, and a kitchen. Obviously Cummings didn’t need much along the lines of furniture and living comfort.

It was the apartment of one who moved around a lot, which made sense, given her line of work, and her reputation. She was, quite simply, the best.

At first neither spoke, just rifled through papers, Sydney at the desk and Sark at the kitchen table where Toni had apparently been working. It was comforting to Sydney that way. The silent acceptance soother her jumbled nerves on the inside.

She was able to compartmentalize well, but the fact that this woman knew how to access certain information that would avenge her father, was an intense realization to deal with.
Sark watched her as she worked, expecting a breakdown.

He was surprised when she remained steady. But of course, she always had been able to maintain the image of calm, to compartmentalize, and to lie to herself along with the others, he thought – remembering her SD-6 days.

That was when he had admired her. When had desired her. And when he had foolishly thought he could convince her to work with him – because together they would have been an indestructible force.

Watching her now, with a clearer mind than ever before, he saw her…really saw her for perhaps the first time. He saw the steady expression on her face, but also the quiet shaking of her hands. He saw the glitter of revenge in her eyes, but also the stiff posture of one unable to grieve properly.

He saw everything, all the contradictions, all of the flaws, all of the strengths, and for a moment wanted to send her back to her mother, and keep her from this life that was sure to ruin whatever good in her that was hiding.

He knew it was still there, somewhere underneath the hard shell. He could see it in moments of what Sydney would now call weakness.

It was then that he realized he was still angry with her. He no longer hated, that had been foolish, selfish, and it was gone – it had drifted away, just like the smoke and the flames that had enveloped the cabin. But he still felt rage. He felt rage because something had turned her into a poor imitation of himself.

It was a poor imitation because her hardness was only a thin shell that could break at any moment. His own outsides had been hardened so long ago, and the shell was so thick that he felt no gentle emotions. He remembered them, from when he was a child, but he could no longer feel them. It was all fierce emotion or none at all. And he could control those flashes very well.

She was controlling her emotions as well, but they were building up, steadily, quietly, and even she knew that she would break one day. As long as it wasn’t today, she thought as she rifled through papers in the silence still punctuated with the pair on the other end of the earpiece.

"So, where did you come up with the name LaBelle Williamson?”

A bitter response, "It was my grandmother’s name.”

"That’s helpful.”


"Keeping it in the family.”

There was a long pause and a muttering sound, but the words were unintelligible.

Sydney looked up and saw Sark staring at her. She glared at him and motioned for him to get back to work.

"Oh please, babe, don’t get all high and mighty on me. I know all your little secrets.”

"I don’t have to take this.”

The tone stopped being playful, "Yeah, babe, you do.”

"Let go of me.”

"No. Now, where to next? I see you’re done devouring you lunch.”

"I have another business meeting.”

Sark shuffled through the last of the papers on his corner of the room. It was nothing but current work. Any paperwork from jobs that had come before were long gone from her immediate presence.

He did find, among the papers, correspondence from a lawyer in New Orleans. That was a lead worth checking out.

"Well then, I’ll walk you there.”

"I’m perfectly capable of –“

"I’m sure you are. But here I was, starting to enjoy your company again," the flirting was back on, "We always did have a nice time together, remember?”

"I remember alright. And then you stole the jewel that I was supposed to be protecting.”

He chuckled. "I didn’t know you knew that was me.”

"Oh, I found out a lot about you after you left without a word, Mr. Walker. But that’s not your real name either is it?”

"It has been since I was twelve, so don’t try that argument with me.”

Sydney found the same thing to be mostly true with her area of the apartment. She had almost given up, when she decided to rifle through the names in Cummings’ address book located in the palm pilot that was left on the study desk.

"Fine, walk me to my meeting, and then leave me the hell alone.”

"I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

"Why not?”

"We have dinner plans at 8, remember? Don’t tell me you forgot your promise. You wound me.”

"We’ll see about that. Shall we go then? I don’t like to be late.”

"After you, babe.”

Sark turned off his earpiece after that and motioned for Sydney to do the same. She arched an eyebrow at him, questioning.

He spoke quietly. Even though the surveillance in her apartment was running on a loop and any other security was off, he felt the need to be as quiet as possible, “I’m done here. There isn’t much of anything.”

Sydney nodded in agreement. Except for one curious name, she had not found anything. “No, there’s not. She’s very careful with the records she keeps with her.”

“I don’t imagine she would be anything else besides careful, given her line of work.”

Again Sydney nodded, and added on, “And yet she still had a hit man after her. Even though she is careful, I did find something that sparked my interest.”

Sark gave no sign that he had heard her second remark, “Were you able to find out anything more on the hit man?”

She was frustrated, that was evident in her tone, “There was nothing in Irina’s database, and you know that she has the best sources of information. He must be very good, or very new. But anyway, what I was saying about sparking my interest, I found a name in her address book that seemed vaguely familiar.”

Sark only looked steadily at her, in question.

“The name I found was Anastasia Fleurie. Anastasia could be Stacia.”

“I suppose that is possible.”

“You suppose.”

“Yes, but all we have is supposition.”

She groaned in annoyance. He appeared unwilling to at least look into the lead, which frustrated her, as he was supposed to take her seriously, as a full partner, “We have a name and we have an address. We can get somebody to check her out while we make our offer to Cummings.”

Sark’s only response was to bring out his phone and make a quick call to Irina. Then they went over what other information they had gathered.

They had found out that Cummings kept her plans from previous jobs in a bank vault in Switzerland. Her clearance codes to get into the vault were kept in two places – inside her head and with her lawyer, her very loyal lawyer.

Which meant that they were going to have to convince Cummings that working for them was the best, and only, option.

- - -

Simon picked up and unwilling Toni Cummings for dinner, with the promise that it would be just a quick bite.

Sydney and Sark broke back into the apartment and were waiting when the two returned from their meal.

As Toni entered her apartment, noticing Simon had followed her in without even asking, she realized that something was off. The lights were all out, just the way she had left them, and her alarms had been set.

But something felt off.

And she found out as she turned on the lights and found two people waiting for her. They were dressed all in black – a man and a woman.

The woman’s hair was dark as sin with tints of red. Her face was tough, her brown eyes glinting harshly in the dim light. The man was a blond with an angelic face blank of expression.

Simon nodded a quick hello to Sydney and Sark. Then he turned to face Cummings.

Toni looked from Simon to Sydney and Sark, then back to Simon. Her tone was amused, slightly, with a hint of anger. “So, I don’t suppose you’re really mad about my lies from all those years ago.”

Simon grinned, slow and easy. “Not really, babe.”

She shook her head, angry at herself more than anyone, for she understood the rules. “And I suppose it was all just a ruse to get me out of my apartment so your friends, here, could search it.”

He laughed, “You are a smart one.”

Toni was on a roll, “Probably looking for information on an old client.”

Simon nodded, “You got that right.”

This time she laughed, “Well, your plan failed, quite miserably. I don’t keep previous client information with me.”

Sydney had staring at her with those cold brown eyes during that whole exchange, but now Toni could detect a hint of amusement there.

“Well, my dear, it is true that you don’t keep information about your previous clients here, but you do keep information about your friends. And when that friend happens to also be a client…” her voice trailed off, all four of them able to complete the sentence.

felgercarb. Stacia. Toni’s mind was whirring. What information did she have about Stacia? Where did she keep it? In her palm pilot. She was momentarily relieved because she always kept the small device on her. But then she remembered being rushed as she was leaving for her lunch meeting…and leaving it on her desk.

Oh no. She was in big frackin trouble.

But she would not let her fear show. “So, you know where Stacia lives. That means nothing. You need me to get you into her house, and that will never happen,” Toni’s voice was strong, confident, she was certain that these people had nothing, no cards left to play.

She was wrong.

The blond man, who had been quiet and still through the whole exchange, finally spoke. His voice was steady and almost monotone, but held a hint of something she couldn’t quite place. He was an enigma to her while she felt she understood the others.

“We have intercepted intelligence that suggests there will be an assassination attempt on your life.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Where did you hear this from?”

Sydney answered, “A very reliable source. We also have evidence, gathered from a week of surveillance.”

Toni’s voice remained steady, though her eyes showed a small amount of fear. “What kind of evidence?”

Sark took up the business end of the conversation, “Photographs, recorded phone conversations, that sort of thing.”

“I’d like to see them.”

Those blue eyes mocked her as he answered, “Of course you would.”

“Meaning right now.”

“Ah. Well, I’m afraid we can’t give these to you without anything in return.”

Knowledge dawned on Cummings, “You want my help to break into Ms. Fleurie’s home.”

Sydney re-joined the conversation, “Something like that.”


This time it was Simon who spoke, making Toni feel completely cornered in, “You might not feel that way once you’ve looked over all of our information.”

“I’m pretty sure I will. Stacia just so happens to be a good friend.”

Simon laughed, “Yeah, she’s a real pal.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Sark placed a few papers on her table, transcripts of Cole’s interrogation that related to her, Stacia, and the Covenant. “Just read.”

Five minutes later, Toni Cummings had finished reading through the irrefutable evidence that The Covenant was trying to kill her. And she knew that meant Stacia was trying to kill her.

Her decision took no time at all. She had no loyalty to those who had none towards her. “I’ll do what I can to help you.”

Just then, the sound of bullets breaking glass interrupted any negotiations. The assassin was making his not-so-quiet appearance.


Oct 4, 2005
Hi Amy! Thanks for the pm! I have only recently discovered this fic and am so thrilled that you have updated :sun:

Your trio, S/S/S, is fascinating. I love that you used Toni Cummings! She was such an intriguing character, and thought they should have explored more possibilities with her on the show.

That said, here were some highlights for me:

Besides Simon wasn’t supposed to care – that was the game that they had played. Sydney obviously didn’t care, so he decided he wouldn’t either.
Easy come, easy go Simon. It feels like poor Si is the 3rd wheel, even though there isn't much happening between Sydney and Sark. He is unpolished where they are slick, and you can't help but feel for the guy.

“According to Cole, she goes by la Madame. It’s not that her name is unknown, but she demands that as a sign of respect. She is in her forties, half-French and half-Russian, extremely intelligent, delightfully violent, and apparently quite sexy. I think we all know how Cole wormed his way into higher status by that last statement.”
Can't wait to meet this woman! Sounds like a nemesis for Jack or Irina...

Simon looked at Sydney and Sark and began his story. “I met Toni Cummings five years ago in Greece.

Her eyes went wide as she heard the name she had not thought of in five years. She heard the same accent, ambiguous in origin, and she remembered clearly the face that went with it – the sinful dark hair, the depthless eyes, and the continuous sneer.
Your backstory for Simon and Toni is brilliant! So well thought out and detailed. They are both lying and manipulating, which just adds spice.

Watching her now, with a clearer mind than ever before, he saw her…really saw her for perhaps the first time....

... He felt rage because something had turned her into himself.
That whole passage, and how you delved into Sark's psyche, just left me stunned. I read it more than once and got something new each time. Brilliant.

"Oh please, babe, don’t get all high and mighty on me. I know all your little secrets.”

"I don’t have to take this.”

The tone stopped being playful, "Yeah, babe, you do.”
It is simply hilarious how these two interact. Simon rocks here.

The woman's hair was dark as sin with tints of red. Her face was tough, her brown eyes glinting harshly in the dim light. The man was a blond with an angelic face blank of expression.
Wow. So easy to imagine, especially the sharp visual contrast between Syd and Sark.

Those blue eyes mocked her as he answered, “Of course you would.”
:shamefullyembarrased: He's gorgeous when he's so dangerous!

Just then, the sound of bullets breaking glass interrupted any negotiations. The assassin was making his not-so-quiet appearance.
Cliffhanger!! Who is the assassin? Who sent him? :nervous:

I am in awe of your ability to write the technical details. How do you think up this stuff? Kudos to you!
Please keep me on your pm list as I am now hopelessly addicted.



Oct 24, 2004
another 2 chapters - i love you girl :rolleyes:

She was able to compartmentalize well, but the fact that this woman knew how to access certain information that would avenge her father, was an intense realization to deal with.
Sark watched her as she worked, expecting a breakdown.
He saw the steady expression on her face, but also the quiet shaking of her hands. He saw the glitter of revenge in her eyes, but also the stiff posture of one unable to grieve properly.
He saw everything, all the contradictions, all of the flaws, all of the strengths, and for a moment wanted to send her back to her mother, and keep her from this life that was sure to ruin whatever good in her that was hiding.
He knew it was still there, somewhere underneath the hard shell. He could see it in moments of what Sydney would now call weakness.
She was controlling her emotions as well, but they were building up, steadily, quietly, and even she knew that she would break one day. As long as it wasn’t today..........

you bild up the tension so great! i can`t wait to see her break down - will sark help her then? i guess the question is: will she let him?:cool: :angelic:

thank you for that great update
take care

...i just read alias is going to end in may.i`m devasted :( . so it´s up to great writers like you are to keep the show on living.


Oct 24, 2004
:santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi:

what about a little x-mas chapter.....or 2 ?? :angelic: :angelic:

:santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile: :santahi: :santahi: :santasmile:

amy lynn

The Polish Pirate
Mar 23, 2004
Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing. While I'm not busy during my month-long reprieve from school, I'll post my last two written chapters that I have with me. There is a chapter 10, part b, but that is on my computer and not here at my parents house. Hopefully I have some time to work on some new stuff before I start back at school. :)


He sat in a chair facing Toni Cummings apartment and waited. The same as he had been waiting for the past week. The thought of a million dollars fresh in his bank account was the one thing that was keeping him going on this job.

Alexei Polaski was bored. He was so frackin bored with this assignment that his trigger finger actually started itching. He could feel the sensation on his finger – that tingling, what he thought was his instinct telling him it was time.

When he had been approached with this assignment, he had eagerly taken it. He had been off the radar for many years, and was getting bored with the straight life. Not to mention, his money supply – which he had thought would never run out – was dwindling.

When the woman and man had come to him for this job specifically, he had been on guard. Nobody had been able to contact him in years – he had hidden himself so well in Ustka, Poland, along the coast of the Baltic Sea.

La Madame, as the woman identified herself, had been accompanied by another man, who called himself Ivan Karakoff.

He knew who Karakoff was. Anybody who was of a certain age, and was still in the game, knew who he was. Karakoff was a mean old bastard – former KGB and skilled in torture. Who could say no to Karakoff? Or la Madame for that matter…not to mention, the million dollars definitely helped.

So, here he sat, watching an empty apartment, and waiting for the chance to kill Toni Cummings. He knew nothing more about her than a name. That was all he needed to know – the name of the mark and the name of the bank where his money would be transferred to.

He ran his right hand through is his long, shaggy, blonde hair and down to the stubble covering his chin. His eyelids were beginning to close on their own accord – shading his eyes that were depthless and black.

Suddenly a sharp movement caught his eye in the outside twilight. It was a figure, entering Cumming’s building – followed quickly by another figure.

Tonight might just get a little more interesting, he thought as he sat up straight in his chair and watched the two lithe figures break into the apartment expertly.

Not too much later he saw Cummings enter the building with a man, the same one he had seen her with earlier that day, as he had been tailing her.

He could see now that the two figures he had seen before were simply waiting for her. It was an ambush – and Polaski decided that he did not like the affect these strangers would have on his work.

He pulled out his binoculars to he could look a bit closer at the people in her apartment, and was only slightly shocked to see that it was Irina Derevko’s daughter, and a partner who looked slightly familiar – but he couldn’t quite place.

After five minutes Polaski determined that they were sent to get to Cummings before he did. At the same moment he remembered where he had seen the blond man before.

It was right before the young assassin had shot him in the leg quite a few years ago, not blinking once, staring at him with cold blue eyes.

Suddenly Polaski saw red. He still had a limp from the bullet wound that ached in the cold weather. He saw a chance to rid the world not only of his target – for whom he was getting paid – but of another Derevko, and an arrogant young assassin.

He was going to do his frackin good deed of the day. And rid the world of those two along with Cummings. And with that rash decision he sealed his fate.

- - -

The glass shattered as bullets tore through the windows – aimed at all four of them. Since they were all familiar with these types of situations, they quickly ducked to the ground to avoid being in the direct line of a bullet if possible.

Simon yelled over to Toni, “Now do you believe us about an assassin?”

She just cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say, of course you frackin moron, there is a person shooting the hell out of my place.

Sydney, who was tired of this little exchange while they were hiding from the shattered glass, finally broke through her emotionless wall and gave a guttural yell, “Will both of you stop acting like petulant children and let’s figure out a way to save our frackin lives. I personally don’t want to get shot because the two of you couldn’t stop bickering.”

There was so much emotion behind her statement, as if she had been holding all her emotions in check for the past few months – which in fact, she had. That quieted Simon right down, and reset his focus. Toni took longer, still glaring at the three intruders in her life, silently blaming them – though knowing it was unfair while she did it.

There was a pause in the shooting, as the assassin reloaded his weapon. It was long enough for them to slip out to the fire escape on the other side of the apartment – away from his view.

All Polaski knew is that there was no more movement inside the apartment – but there were also no bodies. He knew that he had screwed up this job. And he also knew that his failure signed his death certificate.

He was old enough to be resigned at the thought. There was really only one thing for him to do – call Karakoff and tell him the bad news. They would find him again, anyway, if he tried to run. And he suddenly felt too old to run.

The fact that he had lost control showed a lack of retained skill on his part – something that any assassin should never experience. He had been lazy, and now he must pay the price. In fact he deserved to die for this.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number he had been given. When the message had been sent through the proper channels, he decided to examine the wreckage while he waited for the executioner.

- - -

Meanwhile, the trio became a foursome, and they made their way to the darkened alley on the other side of Toni’s building. They were all in adrenaline mode – thinking on their feet.

Sydney looked over at Sark and nodded, silently communicating. He and Simon would find suitable transportation, and she would take care of Cummings.

She looked over at the other woman, who was not shaken at all by the situation, and was impressed, but kept that observation to herself. “Toni, you need to contact your client and let him know there has been a slight change of plans. We will be leaving the country tonight.”

Toni shook her head, “I have a contract. I will not break my contract; I always finish what I start.”

“This is one case where you will not be able to. Once Fleurie realizes that the assassin failed, she will just hire somebody else – or do the job herself, friendship is damned in her line of work.”

Toni struggled with this for a few moments, but knew in her mind that the other woman was correct. She pulled her phone out of the purse that had never left her body through the whole exchange and made a quiet call.

When that was done, she faced Sydney, “Are you satisfied?”

Sydney shook her head, “Not quite yet. We need to know where you keep the specs for Fleurie’s security system.”

Toni’s face hardened, “Not without a price.”

Sydney wanted to laugh at the thought of negotiation in a situation such as this one, “We just saved your life. That is price enough.”

The women were interrupted by the noise of a car starting – with Sark at the wheel. It was an old jeep, but it would suffice. They climbed in the back seat and Simon turned around expectantly.

Toni was caught in this web of deception and espionage – well and truly caught. There was nothing to do but give in.

“New Orleans. We must go to Louisiana.”

- - -

The French Quarter – New Orleans, Louisiana

Toni Cummings waited in the lobby of Delacroix, Fontaine, and Delacroix – Attorneys at Law. The receptionist knew her by name only, and was staring at her with unabashed curiosity.

Instead of keeping her client information in a safe-deposit box – like most believed she did, as she rented one out as a cover – she kept them in an old file with her lawyer’s offices. They were deep in storage with many other legal files, and had proven to be a perfect hiding spot.

“Monsieur Delacroix will see you now, Ms. Cummings,” the receptionist interrupted her thoughts with the thick drawl that New Orleans natives were known for.

“Thank you very much, Cecilie,” she responded warmly, making her way into the small office Antoine Delacroix used for his most respected clients.

- - -

An hour later, she met Simon, Sark, and Sydney at the hotel with the specs to La Madame’s house in the Swiss Alps. They spent hours pouring over the security system, and compiling a list of supplies that they would need.

Sydney contacted Irina to give her an update, and she gave them the name of who to call in the area for what they needed. Sark made that call and they were on their way.

- - -

Back in Rabat

Alexei Polaski faced his executioners calmly – showing no fear.

The woman, who Karakoff called Stacia, twisted some rope around her hands – debating whether or not to tie him down and torture him, or just shoot him cleanly.

Since this was their second failed attempt, she decided to be a little lenient. She wanted information before he was killed for his failure.

Karakoff pushed him down on the chair while Stacia tied the ropes.

Still his eyes showed no fear as he waited for the coming torture. They would have to kill him – because he knew nothing of importance. And what he did know, he would never tell. The money he had been promised wasn’t coming to him anymore – and they were just going to kill him anyway.

He didn’t give a damn about their cause.

Hours later, after many attempts to extract information, Karakoff realized the same thing. Polaski died messily – a shot through the head, leaving pools of blood from the bullet hole and other forms of torture.

Stacia walked out of the room with Karakoff behind her.

They had some tracking to do.


Rabat, Morocco

Shattered glass was the main décor in Toni Cummings’ apartment. Anastacia Fleurie’s three-inch, silver stiletto heels appeared impractical, but nevertheless her long legs maneuvered over the debris gracefully. Her sharp eyes scanned for clues hidden under the sharp edges and glinting prisms of light. However, the apartment was…clean. Any files, any paperwork, any clues were either destroyed or no longer in the building.

She looked over at her partner, and realized that she could not read his body language. It was an unsettling thought, as she had known Ivan Karakoff for most of their lives. He was a lover and her hated enemy. He was her closest friend. He was currently an enigma.

His eyes were shuttered, his face carefully blank. From experience, she knew this meant trouble. She struggled with the loss of control over the entire situation and vowed to keep her cards close for the time being. Her endgame, her trump card, could not become compromised simply because of an old friend and a new enemy. Her deal lover, Ivan, was to remain in the dark from now on.

“At least we took care of Polaski,” Ivan finally spoke, his voice gravelly with disuse.

She stopped in the middle of the main room and looked at him. Both of their gazes betrayed nothing. That is when she knew for sure. He was playing her.

“Yes,” she calmly replied.

- - -

The once handsome man sat shivering with cold, naked and tied to a metal chair. His once, almost jarring, good looks had shriveled with age, injury, and fear. The only vestige of his former self that remained was the depthless black eyes of a killer.

“There were three agents with the Cummings woman.”

“And who were they, my dear Alexei?”

“Dressed in black…they took her away after I shot at them.” His words were vague as he coughed up blood. It was his last defiance. He knew he was dead. What was the point in dying a snitch?

“Who were they?” Her lips drew a thin line across the lower portion of her face.

“I don’t know.” Spitfire eyes to the last…

“Who were they?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” This time, she changed tactics and curved her lips into a feline grin – evil, malicious, and utterly feline.

“The bitch,” he spit out bitterly. It was as if the words had a mind of their own. She knew anyway, she had to have known.

“What bitch?” There were, of course, so many in the world.

“The…bitch’s…daugh…” his words were interrupted by another hacking cough along with more blood spurting from his wounds and out his mouth.

He was fading and she knew it.

“Hold on you mother fucker for just one more moment.”

“Daughter…” He coughed out through the blood, finishing the sentence.

Irina Derevko’s daughter. Anastacia had been right. Sydney Bristow had come out of hiding and teamed up with somebody, most likely her mother and that stupid British lapdog of hers. All plans were falling into place. It was beautiful to know that she could still manipulate the world.

When it was clear that Polaski was useless, on the verge of death, she shot him through the left temple and left him to die in a pool of sticky blood – a deep red ocean.

- - -

After another moment of contemplative silence, they walked out the door. Switzerland, they were going to Switzerland.

- - -

The Alp Mountains

A voice crackled over the intercom that was strategically placed inside the small diamond earrings, “I’m looking over the blueprints right now, Sydney. It looks like you need to go about two miles northeast on the property and there should be a security box hidden in the foliage.”

“Copy that, Cummings,” Sydney replied into the matching necklace, rolling her eyes at the distance as she starting jogging northeast.

Sark was following behind her, having heard the exchange. They ran in silence up towards the wooded area of the property. Because of the elevation, their pace was slow and words spoken meant wasted energy.

Twenty minutes later, they reached their destination. Sark checked his GPS monitor. Toni had uploaded the exact location onto the device. He motioned to Sydney to follow him into the woods. They waded through the dense green leaves and the thin layer of snow until they found the box they were looking for.

“We’ve found the box. What is the code?”

“First, you need to open the box. For that, you need the key that I gave you in New Orleans.”

“I’ve got the key.”

“Good. Now, there is an infrared pattern around the keyhole. To disengage that, you need to remove a sensor from the ground. Sark, go five feet east of the box and see if you can detect the sensor.”

Sark shifted to the right, inching his way carefully as to not disturb any other sensor in the area. His monitor picked up on the frequency of the one he was to disengage. He brushed the top layer of soil and found the small metal object.

“I’ve found the sensor.”

“Copy that, now, you need to carefully remove it from the ground, open it using the equipment I gave you, and punch in this code to the keypad: 0837.”


The sensor made no noise, but a small red light became black, as if it had burned out.

“Good. Now, Sydney, open up the security box.”

Sydney used the infrared spray to make sure that the code had worked. There were no security laser beams surrounding the keyhole. She made a face that appeared half-grimace, half-smile and replied, “Okay, I’m all clear, opening case now.”

As she opened the box, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread. It had been a small knot in her stomach earlier that day; however, it was now growing exponentially. Sark noticed her hesitation. He coughed quietly, startling her into movement.

She glared at him from underneath the large sunglasses she wore, protecting her eyes from the glare of snow and her face from the icy cold wind. He knew exactly what she was doing and coughed again.

Her hand made a fist around the key once, twice, three times. It burned her. She knew that their mission must go on. The end result was terrifying, but she could not let that stop her.

The security box was opened seconds later. Inside, they found a simple keypad and multiple layers of colored wires. “It’s open. What’s the code?”


As she punched the numbers on the keypad, her hands were steady, but her heart was shaking. When she was finished, there was an audible clinking noise as the system shifted out of gear. “It looks good from my end. Simon, I’ll meet you in fifteen minutes at the side entrance to her vault.”

“I’ll be there.”

- - -

The vault had a hidden entrance, a special feature of Cummings Security Systems, Inc. It was an item that La Madame had paid dearly for. Toni had developed a special sensory device that would detect the entrance through the thick, smooth outside wall.

By the time Sydney reached the house, Simon had already located the vault entrance, and was awaiting the code. Sark followed moments after Sydney, and the three of them sprinted through the door into the hollow cave while Toni waited at the car, occasionally directing them on which direction to go in the maze that led to the goods until finally, they arrived at their destination.

Sydney stood in the middle of the massive room. Her muscles were frozen. All thought vanished from her mind. She found what she was looking for. Simon and Sark were standing next to her, their eyes remained fixed on the vault and surrounding areas, making sure nothing went wrong.

The three spies were looking at, among other personal items, a veritable wealth of information regarding The Covenant and their nefarious activities. There were tapes, papers, photographs, electronic equipment. It was all to be transferred to the getaway vehicle, parked two miles away in the forest.

They called for Toni to drive towards the entrance to the vault. All documents were transferred into duffle bags. The three spies were ready to head to the entrance. They were all wary. The mission had gone off without a hitch. It had been too easy, everything falling into place.

Something was terribly wrong, they could feel it.

- - -

Sao Paulo
The safe house

Sydney looked over the information again. Repeatedly. Her disbelief was due to shock. Her mind did not want to face the death of her father yet again, so she rebelled against the information.

It was in one of the duffel bags that she found what she was searching for. There was a detailed file which contained one particular damning document. The rest was filled with photographs, dates, names, phone logs, and weapon specs. What it was, was her father's murderer on a silver platter.

Shock, sorrow, and rage the color of deep red filled Sydney’s body.

McKenas Cole had done the unimaginable. He had killed Jack Bristow. It seemed unlikely. Jack didn't make mistakes, and Cole was unpredictable. He had been captured relatively easily by three agents, but managed to kill one of the most elusive men in the world.

Again, something didn't quite fit. But thoughts of revenge quashed any doubts in her mind very quickly.

She scanned the other documents gathered regarding one McKenas Cole, born Walter Matthew Cole, IV. With amusement, she determined that one bit of information she would torture out of him was the origins of his assumed name, McKenas. As for her torture device, the history of one Walter Matthew Cole, IV, provided her with leverage that rivaled the pain of the needles of fire.

She smiled slyly as she picked up a small black kit and gathered the necessary tools.

- - -

He was dreaming of deep red poppies. He was Dorothy, laying in them and sleeping soundly. He was happy. The clouds came. They were dark, ominous, and heavy. That is when the snow began to fall.

He awoke in a sweat. He craved a taste of the white powder in his dreams. It had been weeks.

He wanted to get up from the chair, walk around to stretch his muscles, and splash water on what he was sure was a pale face. But he couldn’t move. He was stuck in a grey room, attached to a metal chair with uncomfortable handcuffs.

Besides, he though bitterly, there is no sink in the room anyway.

The heavy door made a slight whooshing sound as it opened slowly. She walked into the room, dressed in her new signature black – this time cotton pants and halter top. She also wore long black gloves, leather of course.

It was a now familiar scene. McKenas Cole handcuffed to a chair while Sydney Bristow was facing him with her stone face and expressive eyes; holding a gun, knife, or other torturous device.

The image of this moment struck him as funny. He couldn’t help it as he started laughing. Sydney narrowed her eyes, distain for this man pouring out of her. He could see it in the way that she stood, the way that she looked at him, and the way that she failed to see the other truth glaring into her eyes.

He wondered when she would realize why her mother had asked them to intercept him and Lauren. He wondered when she would ask herself why Sark had not been surprised at the information she had found. He wondered when she was going to see through the lens of vengeance and use the brain he knew was hiding in there. But most of all, he wondered when she was going to open her big brown eyes and grow the frack up.

She was a pawn, a puzzle piece fitting nicely into place, doing what it is told so easily. And he knew that wasn’t really the way she was. He remembered the young bitch that ruined his scheme at SD-6 all those years ago when he had been working for her mother. And he remembered the way she had refused to be brainwashed by him and the rest of The Covenant.

So yes, this situation was so frackin hilarious that the only thing he could do was laugh. She lived; blissfully unaware of what was under the surface. Superficiality personified, thy name is Sydney Bristow.

“Shall we begin, Cole?”

She had a small black bag with her, no large torture device. He knew that it couldn’t be the needles of fire. Rather, he hoped it wouldn’t be them. They had a nasty of habit of getting him to sing for his supper.


Oct 24, 2004
thank you for these chapters. to me those were the first weaker chapters you`ve done. i missed those strong feelings i love so much. these chapters were more about keeping the action going , they were about the plot. i`m very excited about the plot you`re creating. i wonder were you`re going.
please don`t understand me wrong. i love this story and I`m really excited.
hope you still like me being around :angelic:
can`t wait for the next .....2 :D ....chapters

oh and happy new year to you
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