Chapter 3
"I see."
Sark met her gaze directly. "Don't even try to imply I should've come to you with this information, Irina. I'm sure I don't need to remind you I had to escape from CIA custody, which you put me in, by my own means."
Irina didn't say a word, she just let him talk. She knew what he was trying to do.
"And I am giving it to you now, aren't I?" he added.
She raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are you expecting in return?"
Sark sighed; he should have saved himself the trip. "It wouldn't work, Irina. I told you, I've worked with her before. And look at us now."
"Well, you haven't really told me how that happened. How exactly did you and Sydney end up together?" she asked, almost coyly.
Sark glared at her, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Irina. There was no 'together' in our agreement. We worked for a common goal for a while."
"I have to say, this is a surprise," Sark said. The contact he'd been waiting for had turned out to be someone he had never expected to see again. "I heard you were dead. Actually, your father went to great lengths to make sure I knew how much they were all hurting for your loss. He... Insisted I hurt too," Sark couldn't help the bitterness from showing.
He expected her to bite back with some kind of acerbic remark, but the only sign she'd heard him was the thinning of her lips.
"Mr. Sark," she said at last, as if he hadn't said a word. "I've heard a lot about you. My name is Julia Thorne," she introduced herself, extending her hand.
Sark shook it. He didn't know what was going on but he was willing to follow her lead for the moment.
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Thorne." Sark felt the slight tensing of her whole body and couldn't resist. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. The grimace on her face made him grin.
Sydney pulled her hand from his grasp. "Do you have it?" she went straight to the point.
"Of course." He drew an envelope from the inner pocket on his suit jacket and offered it to Sydney. She put it in her purse and gave him a disk in exchange. "Thank you." Sark looked at her speculatively. She seemed reluctant to part ways for some reason. Maybe he could get her to explain. But not in the open. "May I tempt you to join me for a drink?" he suggested.
Sydney's indecision lasted all of two seconds and then her whole demeanor changed. She smiled seductively at him and closed the distance between them.
Sark hid his surprise well. It wasn't only the fact that Sydney Bristow was willingly touching him, it was the 'come hither' look and 'let's find a bed pronto' attitude. He had to admit he didn't mind the change, fake as it was.
He smirked and wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand dangerously low, and led Sydney to his car.
Explanation time.
Sark opened the door and waited for Sydney to go in. The instant the door was closed she ripped herself from his grasp and delivered a swift blow to his gut. Sark only laughed.
"Did you have to keep kissing and touching me?" she spat in disgust.
"There are cameras in the elevators, Sydney. I was only trying to help you maintain your cover, whatever it is."
She tensed when he said her name. "Julia," she hissed.
"Don't worry. I make a habit of not letting anyone watch me. There is no surveillance on this room. You're free to tell me what's going on."
Sydney just frowned. She took off her jacket and sat down in an armchair, her back to the door and Sark. His warm breath on her cheek startled her, she hadn't heard him move.
"That is why you came here, right? Or did you intend to go through with that unrefusable offer of yours?"
Sydney tried to smack him over her shoulder but he'd already moved away.
"You're so violent, miss Bristow."
Sydney took a deep breath and Sark sat down in the couch opposite her, ready to get down to business. He'd let her explain on her own terms. What someone didn't tell you could be as enlightening as what they wanted you to know.
"Obviously, I didn't die," she started. "I passed out after my fight with Allison Doren and the Covenant kidnapped me." Sydney searched his eyes for any sign of recognition from him. He must have caught her look.
"I don't know who they are, Sydney."
"How did you get in contact with my partner then?"
"An old associate of your mother gave me Mr. Walker's name. He told me the man could get me what I needed. Then I got the message saying Walker's partner would make the drop."
Sydney was nodding. "McKenas Cole maybe?"
Sark didn't answer immediately. He usually didn't give names away like that, especially not to CIA agents, but she seemed to know more than she should already. "Yes, Cole."
Sydney grimaced. "I hate that creep. Every time we talk I can see him biting his tongue so he won't use that stupid nickname. I swear if he called me Pigtails, cover be damned, I would kill him."
Sark laughed, whether because of the name or because of her almost childish tantrum Sydney wasn't sure.
"So, Cole is Covenant?"
"Yes, he's one of the higher-ups, too."
Sark cocked an eyebrow in surprise. 'Interesting,' he thought.
"Anyway, they took me, tortured me and brainwashed me into believing I was a contract killer for the Covenant by the name of Julia Thorne."
"Not very successfully, it would appear," Sark cut in.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Sydney rolled her eyes. "No, it didn't work. But I passed all their tests and here I am now."
'Short version indeed,' Sark thought. He considered her words and added everything he knew to be true about Sydney Bristow. The conclusion he came to was hardly surprising.
"Yes, here you are. A double agent for the CIA all over again."
The smile on her face said he was right and that she didn't mind him knowing. "You don't seem worried I know your secret."
"Please, Sark," she said condescendingly. "I'd hardly tell you all that if I didn't intend for you to know the rest."
"Aren't you worried I'll tell Cole you're faking?"
Sydney stood and walked to the window. This was it. Once she crossed the line there was no going back.
Sark just waited. He had all the time in the world.
Taking a deep breath, Sydney turned and looked at him. "I guess I'm hoping you'll come to work for me. I believe if you took the time to hear the comprehensive offer you might actually say yes," she said, her eyes twinkling for some reason.
Sark seemed confused for a moment and then he remembered. "Is this the part where I say 'You're cute, but I'll pass'? Fishing for compliments, Sydney?" he asked amused. There was something different in Sydney. This wasn't the same woman he once knew. Her recent misadventures had affected her more than she would be comfortable recognising, Sark was sure of it.
"Not likely. I really have an offer for you, though. And I honestly think you'll want to take it."
Sark was intrigued now. "Well, you know I've always believed we were destined to work together." He leaned back on the couch and gestured for her to go on. "I'm listening."
Sydney debated how to approach the subject. It wasn't exactly easy to tell, especially to Sark.
"The Covenant partnered me with Simon three months ago, he-"
"I thought you said you were a contract killer," he interrupted her.
Sydney scowled. "Yes, now shut up. I am a hit man for them and I do usually work alone. But you should know better than anyone that I am an agent of many talents. Sometimes they send me on other kind of missions, normally with Simon."
Sark just nodded at her to go ahead with her explanation. He knew he was getting on her nerves... Which was the reason he'd continue goading her. Sydney was just too easy to bug.
"Anyway, last month Cole ordered me an assassination. They don't tell me much about the targets. I guess it makes sense since they don't really trust me and Julia isn't supposed to care. I had never heard of this man but the CIA had. They ordered me to bring him in so I orchestrated his death and extracted him. My handler partnered-"
"Vaughn? That handler?" he asked innocently.
Sydney gritted her teeth, now he was just doing it on purpose. She didn't care he'd mentioned Vaughn, she just couldn't stand his Sarkiness. "Listen, Sark, I'm trying really hard here to find the easiest way to tell you that I faked your father's death and I'm now working with him in his search for Rambaldi artefacts and you're not helping," she emphasized the last part.
Sark was frozen, his mind stuck on the words 'your father'. "I beg your pardon... My father?"
Sydney sighed, she hadn't wanted to spring it on him like that but, damn, he'd asked for it. "Andrian Lazarey, Russian diplomat. Rings a bell, Julian?"
Sark couldn't be more unstrung if he tried. "He told you my name?" Now that sucked. Years of carefully constructed anonymity shot to hell. He stood and paced along the suite.
Sydney watched him. To be honest, Lazarey hadn't exactly come out and said, 'By the way, you know Mr. Sark? He's my long lost son Julian. Nice boy.' Lazarey had mentioned his son a few times and Sydney's curiosity and thoroughness had done the rest. A fair amount of research on her part had allowed her to make the connection.
"So you work with my father now?" Sark asked, sitting down again.
"Yes. And here's where my offer comes in."
"I am not working with that man, Sydney."
"No, you're not. Would it kill you to shut up for five minutes?"
"Sorry," he said softly. "Please, go on."
His apology surprised her. The news had obviously shocked him. Not that it surprised Sydney, given their history.
"Look, the Covenant doesn't really trust me, so I can't trust Simon. The CIA... Actually, it's not the CIA I'm working for right now. It's DSR, you know about that?" He nodded. "Kendall, my handler, works for them and it's them that have me helping Lazarey. But I don't trust DSR, and Lazarey is too involved with his Rambaldi quest to be trusted either."
Sark had recovered enough to smirk at her. "Are you implying that you can trust me, Agent Bristow?"
Sydney glared at him, "Over my dead body." Sark smiled then. "But I trust your greed."
"You're going to pay me?"
"No. Your father's 'death' made you a very rich bastard, Sark. Unfortunately for you, you need to go through me to get your inheritance." He was scowling at her now. "Help me and you'll get your money."
"How much are we talking about here?" he asked, not sure the money was worth this.
Sydney smiled, the huge amount had left her breathless when Lazarey had told her. "Did you know your family goes back to the Romanovs?"
"Actually, I did. So what?"
"You're now the only heir of the Romanov fortune, Sark. A little over 800 million in gold bullion."
His jaw dropped gracelessly and Sydney laughed.
"Sark?" Irina's voice snapped him back to the present. "Did you hear me? How did you become partners?"
Sark snorted." Actually, she pulled a Derevko. She blackmailed me into it."
"Did she?" Irina asked pleased. "And what did she have on you that would force you to cooperate?"
"My inheritance."
"Money? You're a rich man, Sark." Irina sounded genuinely confused.
"Yes, I am. Even more so than you can imagine."
Irina didn't expect him to clarify his words. But she still needed to get him to tell her what had gone so wrong that he wouldn't help her now.
"Tell me, did you make a good team?"
Sark smirked. "The best. I hadn't had that much fun in the field in a long time. We got to know each other rather well. I could see the changes in her. Sometimes she was afraid that she was becoming too much like you. The idea terrified her," he mused aloud.
Irina watched him closely. "What happened, Sark?"
"It seems she's more like you than anyone thought." He paused, clenching his fists. It still made him furious. After all they'd been through. "She set me up and sent me back to my very own CIA cell."
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