"But we both know at some point, I'll betray you. And the people you care most deeply about? They'll die." -Sloane, Nocturne.

"You should have believed me then," Sark half-heartedly chided her.

"I had left the CIA, closed that chapter in my life. The last thing I needed was to be dragged back in by Lauren Reid, she'd done enough to ruin my life," Sydney defended herself without any fire. A part of her wished she had believed him then, too.

"You didn't honestly think that you could quit the CIA and sever all ties?" Sark rolled his eyes and she paused to consider the question.

"I had just suffered through one of the worst years of my life. I handed in my resignation, turned down the offer to move to a black-ops unit and gotten a legitimate job," she pointed out, "I had no intention of ever looking back."

"The job became a part of you, whether you realized it or not. There's no going back," Sark trailed off, apparently lost in some other memory.

She thought about asking and let it drop as she remembered what happened next.

"Hey, Dad, it's Sydney," she trailed off into the phone, "I need to talk to you about something, if you ever call me back."

With a sigh she set the phone down on the counter and crossed the room. She had been trying to talk to him since she had left the CIA morgue three days ago and had received no results.

It seemed like anyone who might know what was going on was avoiding her. It was times like these when she wished she hadn't been quite so firm when she told them she wanted nothing to do with the CIA ever again.

She jumped at the sound of the phone and quickly snatched it from the counter. She was well aware that she was desperate, she wasn't used to taking the backseat in anything.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey, Ms. Bristow. This is Mike Fielding. Julian Sark is asking to see you again, he refuses to cooperate with anyone until he does," the man explained.

"Was it cleared through the proper channels?" she asked as she leaned heavily on the counter. She couldn't quench the disappointment that it wasn't someone who would know something.

"Of course," the man told her, sounding slightly annoyed. She knew him to be a no-nonsense kind of guy who personally didn't like her. He had told her on more then one occasion that he didn't appreciate the way the rules were bent for her.

"I'm on my way," she hung up the phone and grabbed her jacket as she made her way out of the apartment.

The split second decision came from three days of having no idea what was going on. Maybe she didn't have a right to be filled in, but Lauren Reid had directly impacted her life and she expected them to be just a little bit understanding.

She made her way to the familiar building and got a temporary badge from the front desk.

"You understand that everything you hear here is confidential? You're liable to charges if anything is repeated or exposed," the receptionist explained as she made Sydney sign a contract.

"Of course," Sydney signed it before the woman escorted her to the cells and passed her off to one of the guards.

The guard escorted her through the multiple doors that led in and out of the cells. It reminded her of the times she had been to see her mother, it had been years ago, but it still felt like yesterday. Of course, everything still felt like yesterday with her missing years. She still hadn't quite managed to get past everything, although she was trying.

She finally paused in front of the glass window where Sark was turned away from her.

"Miss Bristow," Sark greeted her and she could imagine the hint of a smirk that was on his face.

"You wanted to see me?" she folded her arms across her chest.

He slowly turned around. She sucked in a breath when she saw the black eyes, one courtesy of her, and bruises that dotted his face. A cut ran along the side of his head and the blood could be seen through the bandage.

"It looks like someone used you as a punching bag," she commented as she struggled to remain detached.

"Your wonderful Michael Vaughn," Sark informed her.

"He," she paused in her effort to defend him, he had already proved he was capable of doing something like this, what was the point?

"Not quite the knight in shining armor anymore?" Sark's words were laced with sarcasm.

"I'm sure he had a reason," she finally choked out.

Sark snorted, but didn't say anything as he slowly made his way to the glass that separated them.

"Have you given any thought to what I told you?" he enquired.

"What would be the point? I have no influence here anymore," she told him, the words striking something in her chest. The truth in them stung, but it also annoyed her into a fury. She had given up years to this job and now they acted as if it all meant nothing.

"Lauren told you something, in her final words. Did you ever do what she asked?" Sark asked cryptically as his eyes trailed to the camera in his cell and returned to her face.

"Why would I do anything that she asked me to do?" Sydney shot at him.

"Did you?" he repeated un-phased.

"No," she replied as she looked down at the floor.

"I suggest that you do, perhaps it may shed some light on our current predicament," he suggested.

"You know what it is," she realized.

"No," he answered, his eyes blank of any emotion.

"Why would I believe you?" she asked, feeling the weakness in her resolve.

"Because you have no other choice," he hissed.

"There's always a choice. Why should Lauren have anything to do with me? I left this life and I'm making a new one for myself. This has nothing to do with me anymore," she told him, her temper beginning to flare.

"But it does, it has everything to do with you, and you don't even realize it," Sark's eyes met hers.

"Is that the only reason you wanted to see me?" she finally spat after several seconds of silence. She felt all of her other emotions close behind a wall as she focused on the objective.

"Neither of us are safe here now that they know that Lauren's alive. The hunt has only just begun," Sark whispered.

"I don't understand," Sydney told him as her own eyes trailed to the camera. They were recording all of this, probably listening too.

Before Sark could reply a door behind her opened and she spun around. The same guard moved into the room, effectively cutting off any hope of her getting answers. She felt as if a door had been slammed in her face, rather then opened.

"Ms. Bristow, I'm supposed to escort you outside," the man told her.

She gave one last glance to Sark before she followed him.

"I want to see Director Dixon," she told the guard as she caught up to him.

"I'm afraid that he resigned some months ago," the man replied.

"What?" she froze as she processed the new information. Weiss hadn't told her that he had left.

"Who's replaced him?" she enquired.

"Someone who isn't likely to do you any favors. Come along, Ms. Bristow," he snapped, all patience gone.

"Not until I talk to someone who can give me some answers," she insisted.

The guard turned and opened his mouth as if to snap at her, but paused halfway through the motion.

"Come with me," he suggested as he led her down a separate corridor from the one they had been taking.

He paused and pressed his badge to a reader attached to a door before entering another section of the building.

After several minutes they came to a white door and the man knocked twice.

"Come in," a muffled voice suggested.

The guard stepped aside and she turned the handle, stepping into the office of Mike Fielding.

"Agent Bristow," he greeted her with little interest from where he sat behind a desk.

Monitors lined the room, but most of them flashed the CIA symbol.

"I'm tired of the games. I want to know what's going on," Sydney told him firmly.

"I'm afraid you don't have the clearance Ms. Bristow and honestly, neither do I. It's been transferred to another section of the CIA to be handled. I'm no longer involved in anything to do with The Covenant," Fielding told her, his eyes narrowing in dislike.

"Who can I talk to who would know something?" Sydney pleaded.

"I think it's time you let it go. You've left this life behind and we greatly appreciate what you've done, but you can't keep coming to us for favors. You made a choice," he paused for a moment, "However, there is something you could do."

"What?" Sydney asked, attempting not to let her disgust show through. The man was slimier then she believed him capable of.

"What was it that Lauren Reid told you to do before she died?" his eyes seemed to glow as he looked at her.

"She wanted me to stay away from her husband," Sydney spat as she turned back to the door.

"You know we could detain you," he told her before she could touch the knob.

"You won't. I don't break under physical torture, you'd much rather wait for me to do something. As you have no doubt I will do," Sydney told him without turning around.

"Good day, Ms. Bristow," he said through tightly gritted teeth.

She didn't bother with an answer as she let the door swing shut behind her.

"I'll escort you to the parking garage," the guard who had been waiting for her said.

"Fine," they didn't speak again as she left the building and moved toward her car.

With a sigh she slid into the drivers seat and pounded her hands against the wheel. How many doors were going to get slammed in her face on this? If Lauren was alive why didn't they come to Sydney for answers?

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Vaughn's number. It was one she hadn't called in her search for answers. They hadn't talked since after Lauren's death. She needed a break to figure things out and she was sure he needed space too.

The phone rang several times until a familiar voice answered, "Syd?"

"Hey," she choked out lamely. She had expected him to ignore her like everyone else.

"I heard you quit," he offered after several awkward moment of silence.

"Yeah," suddenly what she had been so desperate to know didn't seem as important anymore. Not if it meant talking about Lauren with Vaughn.

"I did too, beat you to it, actually, by several days," he continued.

"It looks like someone used you as a punching bag," she commented as she struggled to remain detached.

"Your wonderful Michael Vaughn," Sark informed her.

"What are you doing now?" she asked out of habit. The direct lie had set all kinds of warning signals off within her. This was bigger then she had originally though. Dixon resigned and now Vaughn had supposedly quit, there had to be something going on here.

"I work for a bank, funny how things work out," the lie set off waves of annoyance within her.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. It's been awhile," she told him smoothly as she felt years of training kick in. She needed to get what information she could from him without alerting him that she knew he was lying.

"I'm doing better, better then I was," he assured her.

"That's good. I was wondering if you'd heard from my Dad. I'm worried about him," she said in an attempt to fish for information.

"No, not that I would, he doesn't like me very much," Vaughn pointed out in the same off tone.

"What about Dixon? I heard he resigned," she offered.

"No, haven't heard from him either," Vaughn said quickly. She could tell he was trying to get her off the phone.

"Thanks, I'll talk to you later," she hung up the phone with another grunt as she contemplated her next move.

She finally drove back to her apartment and paused when she got to her front door. It was cracked, not closed and locked like she had left it.

She reached for a gun in her purse, but found that it wasn't there. She had removed it some time ago.

She slid the door open a crack and what she saw made her blood run cold.

"Sydney," Sloane greeted her.

"What are you doing in my house?" she snapped as she stepped inside and retrieved a letter opener off her counter, concealing it behind her back.

"I came to talk to you, about Lauren Reid," he explained with the slightest twinkle in his eyes.

"And you had to let yourself in?" she snapped as she took a step forward.

"I understand that you were the one who discovered she was missing. I've been placed in charge of discovering where her body has gone," Sloane explained.

"Now why don't I believe you?" she took a step forward, gripping the letter opener tightly in her hand.

"Syd?" a voice from behind her caused her to hesitate.

"Weiss, what are you doing here, with Sloane?" she asked as she risked a glance behind her.

"We just need to ask you a few questions and then we'll be gone," Weiss reassured her.

"I'm not telling you anything until one of you explains all of this to me," she insisted.

"It's official CIA business. You know I want to tell you, but we can't," Weiss told her gently.

"You really think I'm a security risk?" Sydney enquired as her eyes burned into his.

"Of course not, but we have to follow procedures. If the situation were reversed would you be breaking rules for me?" Weiss attempted to persuade her.

"Absolutely, and you know it," she told him firmly. "How can you stand there and tell me this after everything we've been through? You know the impact Lauren's had on my life and now you're going to do this?"

"I'm sorry, Syd, but can you just tell us what happened," he pleaded.

"I received a call from my father asking for a favor. They needed Sark to cooperate and he was refusing to do anything until he saw Lauren's body and he wanted me to go with him. We went, there was no body, and I've heard nothing from anyone since then," she explained flatly.

"Do you think Sark knows something?" Weiss asked.

"After how he was worked over. Past shows that he would probably break by now," she told them.

She saw something flicker in Sloane's eyes. They didn't know she had been back to see Sark.

"Thank you, Syd," Weiss moved towards the door and Sloane moved to follow them.

"If either one of you ever enter my house again without my permission, I'll shoot you," she called after them.

Weiss's back stiffened as he heard the betrayal in her voice, but Sloane shot him a glance and the two left.

She moved to the nearest lamp and checked it over carefully. The bug was small, just like the one Vaughn had used to bug Lauren's parent's house and she could barely detect it, she wouldn't have been able to if she hadn't known what to look for.

It was made by Marshall, there wasn't a doubt in her mind.

She slid to the ground as she felt her entire world shift in front of her. Everyone she cared about had betrayed her.

Sark's words ran through her mind:

"Lauren told you something, in her final words. Did you ever do what she asked?"

There must be something there. Something that could help to piece all of this together.

Without thinking she entered her room and began stuffing her suitcase. She was going to Wittenberg.

Sorry for the wait in getting the second chapter posted. I've been working on getting it written for awhile, but time is something that I've been lacking. Thanks to all those who reviewed and I'd really appreciate it if you would continue to review.