The Hunter and the Hunted


Jan 21, 2006
Braintree MA
:confused: Feh, now that just makes me wish I could write as good as you. Maybe if I could people would read my work. Hehe, not that I've gotten around to finishing or even posting any of my Alias stories. But since we're here about your work I won't ramble.

It was a great job, which I've seen while reading most of your other work. Though what puzzles me is the fact that I think this is the only one I've gotten around to actually replying/reviewing. This story is just plain wonderful, the kind of thing I love reading on a friday night after a crummy day at school. I love how you thre Simon and Sark being 'friends' yet 'enemies' into the mix. It just makes it all around funner to read. At first I thought this story would be kind of cliched but I can definitely see that that is not true. This isn't cliched, which I'm glad about. There are too many of those around.

Props to you for these original ideas. Umm, if it's not too much trouble could you PM me when you update? Keep up the great work. :D


Oct 24, 2004
hi amy,
i already arranged everything - snacks :popcorn: and drinks :cheers: - just in case you got the time to update :angelic:
hope life get`s a little less busy and more relaxing soon.


Oct 24, 2004
hi amy,
well i`m already drunk :alien: over here. :stretcher:
the only cure i can emagine is you updating :doctor: !

just posting to chear you up :flowers: and to encourage you to update....sooner or later..... i can drink a lot :D :D



Oct 24, 2004
hi amy-lynn, :oldhi:
just posting to poke :poke: a little bit. hope you`re still around and real life gives your audience...ME... some time for an aupdate :D .
you can`t get rid of me, sorry....I´m addicted
so while i`m waiting i keep reading other stories :book: but i`m not so addicted :no: as i am with your story here. :wave:
i recommend your story in my signature. i hope you`re fine with that. i might also poke :poke: you a little by doing so .... no seriously, this is one of the best fiction ever and you`re so good, so i loved to recommend this fiction. if you don`t like that, pm and i `ll have my signature changed.

amy lynn

The Polish Pirate
Mar 23, 2004
Hey kids, remember me?

So, I have one more chapter that has been written for a long time, but I didn't have time to post. Question: What have I been doing this whole time? Answer: Finishing grad school. I now have my Master's degree and a real job that I start full-time this week. I am hoping that this leaves me with more time for writing, whether it is finishing this or not. Generally when I write these days, it is other things, since my love for all things Alias has mostly disappeared. But who knows what inspiration will strike.


[10 b]


“Has the tracking device been activated?”

“Activated and currently following their every move.”

“Do they suspect anything?”

“It’s hard to tell, not being on the plane and all. But they don’t appear to have found the device, since we are still tracking them.”

“Do we have a location?”

“It appears as though they are heading towards South America, most likely Brazil.”

“Update me when you have the final location.”

“Yes ma’am.”

- - -

Sao Paolo, Brazil

Sydney saw the look of fear flash across the face of her prisoner. Correctly deducing his thoughts, she smiled and spoke to him softly, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to use those needles on you again.”

A sigh of relief racked the body in front of her. His eyes almost looked grateful.

“I am, however, going to use a different set of needles this time.”

A blank look from Cole was the only replied she received. He was determined not to speak. Who knew what crazy thing he would say if he opened his mouth. His mind was flying in too many directions.

“I found some interesting information in your files, Cole,” she started off conversationally. “You have an unfortunate habit. I bet you didn’t know that it was being documented.”

He blinked once.

She stared back at him, eyebrows lifted.

He blinked a second time.

She continued in a conspiratorial tone, “It only seems natural. You needed something to take the edge off. It can be tough; surviving torture, finding out that you don’t work for the CIA, being left for dead.”

She opened the small black case and pulled out a needle, white powder, a spoon. She began to prepare the drug in quick, efficient movements. The moment the needle sank through his skin, she resumed talking, “Heroin was an ideal choice for you. I’ll be back to continue our little chat, Walter.”

His eyes widened at her use of his name. What else did she know?

Then the drug began to course through his veins. It was a beautiful feeling. He had missed his addiction so during the past few weeks. All thought was lost as his skin began to tingle.

Sydney turned on her heel and walked calmly out of the room. Initially, walking into that cell, she had felt a burst of rage. Anticipating that reaction, she had left her gun and knife safely back in her room. The urge to shoot him straight through the heart, or to slice his throat open, was too strong.

Revenge for Jack would come in time. Now Bristow, she thought, repeat that ten times – every time you want to kill McKenas Cole.

Ironically, she knew her father would be proud of her actions; the curbing of dangerous impulses.

She was startled as she pulled open the door to the cell. Standing in front of her was a solitary figure, watching her intently. It was Sark, waiting for her outside of the interrogation room. His tone seemed almost impatient when he registered her presence.

“Has he talked?”

She narrowed her eyes as she replied, “I haven’t asked him any questions yet.”

He nodded, hopeful that he still had enough time to come up with a working strategy. But he was not naïve. Sydney Bristow excelled at many things and her ability to compartmentalize, keep secrets, and plot an enemy’s demise while pretending to be their partner was not to be underestimated. He just had to call Arvin Sloane for confirmation of that fact.

She might know already. He must remember that as he planned.

- - -

She wasn’t sure when it happened, but the bench in the gardens became her favorite place to sit and think. She could remain there for hours, just to clear her mind. In light of the new information about Cole and her father, she figured that those men would be haunting her.

It was disconcerting, then, that the man occupying her mind was somebody else. Sark. What was she supposed to do? They worked well together, but he reminded her of a person and a time that she was trying to forget.

Running away from her problems had seemed like a good idea to begin with. Hiding her identity was the best possible option. Her cover had been blown, however, and she became vulnerable again after Jack’s death. So, what next? Clearly revenge was the only viable option. She had to destroy the Covenant before they destroyed her.

She tried to hide the woman she used to be behind a mask. But Sark, he reminded her of who she once was. Sometimes she wanted nothing more than to be that person again. She had not been innocent, of course. Nobody ever really was once they entered into espionage, no matter who they were working for. Or who they thought they were working for.

Sometimes, though, she found that it hurt to be this cold. The pretense was difficult to keep up with. For the past two weeks there had been a strange pressure growing in her head and her stomach. So, here she sat, almost doubled over with physical and emotional pain. And for the first time in years, she let it seep into her insides, through her thick, cold skin.

It was there that he found her. After she left him outside Cole’s holding cell, he had gone to the library to think; secluded and alone. But there were nagging doubts at the back of his mind. They slowly crept to the forefront until he needed to find her.

It did not help his course of action that he was unsure of what exactly she knew; certain things were imperative to discover. When he saw the faraway look in her eyes, he knew that she had found out about Jack, and Cole’s connection to the assassination. He also knew that there was a storm raging inside of her. The plan, then, was to be cautious.

He walked to the bench and stood in front of her, blocking the sunlight. The action forced her to look up at him. Distracted, she motioned him away. Instead of moving, he grabbed her waving hand and pulled her up, saying, “follow me.”

Dragging her down the path, they finally stopped in front of the shell of a building. The smell of fire and ashes was still fresh in the air. They stood in silence for a few moments, her hand still in his; relaxing into comfort before he spoke.

“I hated you, you know. I hated you for the longest time.”

She looked up at him, shock apparent in her eyes. “You hated me? I considered you the bane of my existence for a while.”

“You killed Allison.”

She shrugged, brushing over his mention of the dead woman. It was obvious that he had destroyed his hatred with the burning of the building. Her response, however, was more heated than her action implied.

“You left me for dead. You worked against me for years. You sabotaged my missions at every possible moment. You were supposed to kill Sloane and instead forced your way into SD-6. Allison killed my best friend. But yet, I can’t find it in myself to hate you.”

He could read the honesty in her eyes. At this, he was relieved. She must not know about his involvement in the cover-up of Jack’s assassination orders. There was still time.

“I’m not surprised that you don’t hate me.”

Her confusion was apparent. “You’re not?”

“There are so many reasons. For one, you have effectively shut everybody out. You don’t betray emotions. You can’t hate or love. You don’t let people help you. You’re so closed off that you are merely a shell, and not even an attractive one.”

She bristled visibly. At that, he scored another point of triumph. She was not as impervious to his barbs as she tried to be. If he could have an effect on her negatively, she was receptive to his presence.

Gaining her trust was his next step.

- - -


“Madame. We have successfully tracked their movements.”

“Good. Where are they?”

“Sao Paulo.”

“Excellent. Have you notified our agent in place?”

“Yes. They have settled in quite nicely. I will now alert the backup team and instruct them on their mission.”

“When will they be ready by?”

“A few days at the most.”


- - -

Two days later…
Sao Paolo, Brazil

It was hard to gain somebody’s trust when they avoided you. She was playing a game with Cole, hooking back on the drugs; feeding him then withholding from him until he could no longer bear the sweating and shaking.

She learned how to slip by him quietly, escaping his notice until it was too late for him to follow her. But when he did see her, from afar, he could see the ice melting from her insides, giving way to a gaunt face and hollow eyes. That was the price she had to pay, it seemed. But he was convinced it was for the best.

- - -

He knocked on the door to Irina’s study, responding promptly to her summons. The door closed quietly behind him as he found her sitting comfortably in a large leather chair.

She closed her laptop as he walked towards her and motioned him onto the couch next to her desk. He stretched out comfortably as was his habit in her presence and waited for her to begin. You couldn’t, after all, rush Irina Derevko.

“She knows that Cole was the one hired to assassinate Jack Bristow.”

“Somehow I figured that she must. It is nice to know, however, that this is the case. Does she know of our prior knowledge?”

“I don’t think so. It is imperative that she not find out. My plans are coming along, thanks to the information she is gathering from Cole. Now, how about an update on Lauren?”

“She knows nothing of importance. I have had Simon working on her.”

An arched eyebrow, “And what have you been doing?”

“Contacting associates of my own. There was something off about our trip to Switzerland. There was no hitch. Normally I would be thrilled. But this time…this time, I don’t trust it.”

She nodded, having had the same thought herself.

“Keep working on it. I think that there might be a –”

- - -

She watched him walk into her mother’s offices and smiled to herself. They would be in that room for a while, she knew. After having a long conversation with her mother, the summons was expected.

There was an errand she needed to run, and she wanted Sark occupied while she did it. Slinking down the hallway, she tiptoed until her footsteps were out of range. There was a large garage on the grounds, so she snuck out the back door and walked there.

Scanning the cars housed in the large room, she found the one she was looking for. Black Mercedes convertible. Smiling to herself, she walked over to the car which, luckily, had the roof down. Everything after that was easy.

Hotwiring a car was fun. All she had to do in reality was find the keys in Sark’s room, but it was more fun to steal it. Gunning the gas pedal, she drove off, tires squealing, alerting all to her departure.

- - -

Irina stopped in the middle of her sentence at the sound and looked at him pointedly.

“I’m going,” he said, no questions asked.

I think that there might be a traitor in our midst. The unspoken sentence hung in the air. He understood what she was going to say. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call to another contact while he ran out to the garage in pursuit of the car.

When he got outside, he realized that it had been his car stolen.

Sydney. It had to be Sydney.

- - -

Speeding down the street, top down, she felt an exhilaration she had previously stifled. She made two stops before making it to a small coffeehouse. It was there that he caught up with her.

Sark stalked into the crowded establishment and found her sipping a cappuccino calmly, sitting in the back of the room on a plush chair. There was a small package sitting on the table in front of her. She was staring at it intently, contemplation written on her face.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” He hissed at her, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the patrons; he had no idea if there was an enemy in the café.

She glanced up, motioned for him to sit down next to her, and went back to gazing at the package. He noticed as he sat that the haunted look had faded somewhat. Intrigued at what could facilitate the change in her, he looked at the small box carefully. It was brown hair dye. The color itself was unremarkable, yet the picture on the cover looked eerily similar to Sydney of pre-Covenant days.

Her voice cracked as she said to him, “I’m thinking about going back to my natural color.”

The look on his face was incredulous, to hide his obvious pleasure; pleasure that she would not react kindly to, pleasure that his words were affecting change, pleasure that was rooted in something he didn’t quite want to delve into yet. “You stole my car for a package of hair dye,” he snorted in disbelief.

She looked sad, almost, as she explained further. “I have not maintained my natural color since I was taken by The Covenant.”

He knew this, but wanted to keep her talking, so he asked, “Why?”

She considered his question for a moment. If she opened up to him, she risked a lot. But it had been so long since she had just talked to somebody about this. The last person had been her father. She took a deep breath and the words fell out.

“It was painful to recall the person that I was, before the Covenant took me, before I pretended to be Julia Thorne, before I killed for them. Do you know that I used to want to teach English? Well, I did. It was my greatest desire. It was what I was going to do after I brought down SD-6. But then, my mother escaped again. And Sloane was still out there. And finally, I survived an attempted brainwashing. But before I could escape the Covenant’s custody, I had to kill several men. It didn’t matter that they were evil. I killed them in seeming cold blood. Survival was my only guide…”

She trailed off, indicating that she felt she had said enough, too much almost.

Before he could come up with a suitable reply, there was a movement they both saw out of the corner of their eyes. Split seconds before bullets started whizzing by, shattering glass, they fell down to the ground, the box of hair dye clasped to her chest as if it were a lifeline.

They looked at each other, down at themselves, then at each other again as they both realized instantaneously.

They had no weapons.


Oct 24, 2004
hi amy,
glad you found your way back here :) and congratulations
I now have my Master's degree and a real job
. well adjusting to job-life is difficult. it drains you at first but trust me it`s getting better.
so you posting a long chapter. i can`t read it now cause i should have gone to bed like for 3 hours...cause my job is waiting tomorrow.
so i come back tomorrow.
thank you , i`ll stick around and i hope you`ll like to write alias again.


Mar 31, 2006
Alberta, Canada
Thanks for notifying me of the update, I was so happy to see a new chapter had finally been posted for this fantastic story! :woot: I really hope you won't abandon it, because honestly, this is too good to just leave unfinished. :thumbup:
Could I get a pm whenever you decide to continue? It would be much appreciated! :D


Oh, and congrats on getting your master's and new job! :grad:
gah!!!!!!!! you can't leave us with a cliffhanger when you don't know when you'll be getting around to writing more!! :P
i love this fic. i love your writing. i say that in basically all of my posts here, but i figured it couldn't hurt to say it again.
thanks a ton for the pm, congratulations on the real job and all ;) and pm me if you update again!



Mar 13, 2006
:woot: wow this is a really good story cn i please get a pm if you decide to continue i really want to know what happens lol


Oct 24, 2004
just stopping by to say i`m out here, waiting, hoping for an update...
Generally when I write these days, it is other things, since my love for all things Alias has mostly disappeared. But who knows what inspiration will strike.
(n) (n) (n) hope you`ll find the alias-muse again
take care
Jul 17, 2005
United States

I just read your story.

I find it absolutely fascinating.

Might I have a spot on your PM list?

If you're still going to continue writing this, that is.

(I know writer's block, I get it often.)

Thank you.



Jun 21, 2006
^ come on how can two super spys (hehe) be so unprepared.

well great chapter i love the way you write i get hooked from the first sentence to the last. keep up the good work. oh and i hope sark and syd hook up....