Agenda
by Lisek16, for Ann
He hates being right all the time. In fact it's tiring. There are only so many hours in a day that he can put on that smug smirk and prove yet another person wrong. Like a magician, he won't reveal the secrets as to how he does it, but he doesn't work alone. In the intelligence business you need to know someone. A 'friend of a friend' is your greatest asset.
By creating these connections, and branching out into untapped resources, Julian Sark was able to achieve great things. He helped destroy the Alliance of Twelve, he used necessary force to carry out missions and retrieve valuable data. He could do these things on his own. He could easily infiltrate a Moscow military base or a disable a Berlin nightclub's security cameras. Without breaking a sweat, he could assassinate a world leader in broad daylight, or hack into any computer and on a whim he could crack any safe.
What Mr. Sark lacked in skill he certainly made up for in charm. He could get anyone to do anything, just by laying it on thick. But there were times when charm and skill were meaningless. There were times when you needed to have an 'in' or find an informant. These were the times when he didn't come to the table, knowing not only the hand he was dealt but also those of his competitors. This uncertainty was something he could hide well; even in the most unnerving situation.
This evening, the twenty fourth of December, he was unnerved. In a hotel in Istanbul on the fourth floor, he was picturing his contact awaiting this meeting. He was actually quite confident that things would go smoothly. After all she had risked her marriage, and her job just to fly halfway across the world on Christmas Eve. But she thought she was making a difference. He had convinced her that Sydney Bristow was the enemy. He swore to her that her marriage would be stronger without Agent Bristow tempting her husband into an adulterous affair. He made her doubt her co-workers performance. He made her suspicious of every word Sydney spoke. He made her question her allegiances. He had preyed upon every insecurity this woman had experienced, and he was proud that it worked.
But there is something to be said about the wife of a 'company man'. Was she all talk? At the last moment would she rescind her offer? Would she be foolish and set a trap he had not prepared for?
Her superior, also another of his NSC contacts: Robert Lindsey had tried to pull a double cross. But Lindsey was a stupid man. He honestly believed that by blaming his indiscretions as the work of the covenant that there would not be dire consequences.
Upon meeting Robert Lindsey, Sark informed him that the cardinal rule in having conflicting allegiances was not to have your own agenda, and to never consider yourself indispensable. But Robert Lindsey was never very good at following the rules, which is why he got himself killed.
Much like her predecessor, Lauren Reed had qualms about following someone else's agenda. She always tried to make her own suggestions, and then would appear disturbed that the situation didn't work to her advantage.
Miss Reed and Robert Lindsey were both very much alike. Much like a younger Arvin Sloane, they saw their government as corrupt and biased and sought to change it through reform. Both decided that sharing government secrets was a perfect method for such reform.
Aside from the logistics of how Lauren Reed and Mr. Sark formed a viable partnership, there is a bigger issue which has not been addressed. It is indeed the Eve of Christmas and somehow Ms. Reed was able to leave her doting husband behind. What kind of man lets his wife venture out on Christmas Eve to betray her Government? The truth of the matter is that Michael Vaughn has been slightly busy. Busy doing what? Busy admiring the love of his life from afar...
But he was still the devoted husband at work. Bringing her flowers, sending her candy, but that didn't satisfy Ms. Reed, who only joined the National Security Counsel to make a difference. Though blindsided, Michael Vaughn was not blind. In order to flee the country on their first Christmas Eve together, she told him she was visiting her Father in Washington. She lied to get where she was this evening.
***
For the past month she has been keeping in contact with Sark. For one month she ventured to some of Los Angeles' most contaminated pay phones, then as not to arise suspicions...she began to go global. Krakow. Cairo. Prague. Paris. Budapest. London. Madrid. One minute calls, Faxes sent through at least three other numbers... it was all very hush hush. It was the cloak and dagger routine that kept her interested, not that Sark ever bored her.
Aside from the fact that he was a known terrorist, their relationship was very casual and at times friendly. Both of them were actually looking forward to getting a chance to speak with surveillance cameras, parabolic microphones and CIA security details. Though they were converging for a common cause, they didn't trust one another. Actually both were more than willing to betray each other within minutes of the termination of the meeting.
But at 10pm she ventured from her room on the fourth floor to the bank of elevators and made her way to the penthouse. She knocked on his door and was truly surprised that she wasn't greeted by a member of his entourage. Instead Sark himself opened the door and beckoned her inside.
She admired the tasteful décor, but was more attentive to the lack of security. Surely Sark didn't trust her. But little did he know that in the adjoining bedroom there were at least three men ready to take her out after any hint that the meeting had gone south.
"It's been quite some time since we've met in public, if you can call this public" he muses aloud. He motions her to a couch while he opts to sit in the arm chair across from her.
She smiles, and agrees, "It's nice to see you again, especially to hold a conversation in the same time zone"
He laughs at this, and she wonders if he's flirting. She wouldn't put it past him.
He hands her a manila envelope and before she opens it, he explains that "This is my Christmas gift to you. Upon opening my 'gift', we will be one step closer to ridding the world of Sydney Bristow"
Of course, Sark was only telling half the story. He wouldn't kill Sydney, not for 800 million dollars, and certainly not because Lauren Reed felt threatened. But the whole idea is that Lauren thinks he's being honest. Little does she know that he'll bring Sydney back to the covenant and by doing so, he'll secure his position of authority.
"Michael will go looking for her. He even told me that in the future he won't give up on her so easily" she murmurs, as though she's speaking aloud to herself.
He needed to convince her that this is the best course of action. The covenant had stressed that by implicating Lauren in Sydney's disappearance that an agency wide review would take place. The agency would be immune and vulnerable to a take over. This was just the break that had been waiting for.
"I would expect as much." He began, "we'll be rigging a car bomb, and he'll watch her explode"
She winced at this detail and responded, "He'll suspect it was a set-up"
He clarified, "He'll believe it... Seeing is believing in our line of work"
She nodded her head in agreement.
"All I need is the set of keys you made from her SUV, also I need you to make a reservation at your favorite restaurant in L.A."
She doesn't say anything, instead she finally opens the envelope and a few tears well up in her eyes. Sark hadn't lied. Sydney and Michael were having an affair. In this undisclosed location, there were dozens of dated photos. This wasn't an unapproved operation...this was an illicit affair. Something had to be done, but maybe this wasn't the best plan of action.
She hands him the copy of the keys to Sydney's SUV, an in return he hands her a small box. She opens it, and finds a pearl necklace.
"May I?" he asks and she nods.
This necklace is another Christmas gift; especially made for her with a tracking device. As he leaned around her to put it on he noticed something unsettling underneath her blouse. He moved in front of her and began to unbutton her collared shirt. A wire snaked up her abdomen and up to a microphone which taped to her pale chest. Upon seeing her betrayal, his face involuntarily turned red. She peeled the microphone from her chest and handed it to him. He threw it to the ground, and with his shoe, he ground it to mere rubble.
"You betrayed me, Miss Reed" he retorted, infuriated by this. How could she set him up?
"I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I could go through with it. I thought you were lying..." she whispered, he could tell in her eyes that she was willing to risk her career to get Sydney out of her life for good. He had to admire her determination.
"Who have you told?" he questions her.
She arises from the couch and moves to the window.
"Your husband?" he asks, "His associates? Your superiors? Miss Bristow?" he questions.
"No. No one has heard anything; I was recording it...for myself. They'd only know what was said this evening; but I won't ... I didn't tell anyone about this meeting ..."
"You let me incriminate myself to satisfy your curiosity?" he questioned.
"It can be seen that way, but I swear this is not a set-up anymore. Julian, we are working on the same side- I assure you. I have just as much, perhaps more, at stake than you." she clarified as she made her way to face him.
Satisfied with her answer, he responds, "Button your blouse. Go home to your husband."
She looks slightly rattled but obliges.
She's practically out the door when he speaks up, "I'll uplink the details by Friday"
"Merry Christmas" she responds in a quiet voice.
"Lauren... I can guarantee that this New Year will be better than you ever imagined" he answers. The know-it-all smirk he is known for displaying is beginning to appear as she turns around.
"Clearly" she responds, before she leaves the hotel room.
He thinks to himself that he was right about her: not only could she not be trusted, but she too had her own agenda.
end
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