Father Figure
Page 14
SD-6 wouldn't be the same without Wilson anyway. It was painful even to sit in the same room where she'd met him for so many briefings. She could almost see him at the head of the table, getting ready to send her off on some exciting new mission. Like her first one, to Paris, when he'd popped open that suitcase filled with designer clothes . . . He'd seemed too good to be true then.
Now she'd never see him again.
I wonder what they're doing with him? But almost as quickly, her mind blocked the question. She kept telling herself it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't think of Wilson in prison, maybe even in shackles, without feeling partly to blame. Whatever he was going through, she didn't want to know.
The lights switched on overhead, making Sydney start in her seat. She turned her head in time to see a fatherly man walk into the room, a huge, warm smile on his clean-shaven face. It was the man she had met when first recruited into SD-6, the man Wilson had introduced her to.
Arvin Sloane.
Something about his presence pulled her up out of her chair. He had such energy . . . and it was all focused on her.
“Sydney!” he said, extending his hand. “We meet again. I've heard such fantastic things about your work.”
She smiled uncertainly and put her hand in his. His skin felt warm and dry as he pumped her arm up and down, full of enthusiasm.
“I hope they were true,” she said.
“All true,” he assured her jovially. “I check those reports personally.”
His face took on a more somber expression. “Shall we sit?” he asked, gesturing to a couple of chairs and waiting for her to take one.
“Before we go any further,” he said, “I want you to know I realize you've been through hell the past few days. Reg Wilson's betrayal was a terrible shock to us all. But, thanks to you, that threat has been dealt with and SD-6 has recovered some crucial intelligence. I'll be taking over as your new handler.”
“You, uh . . . you still want me to work here, then?”
“Of course! More than ever!” He seemed genuinely shocked she could have thought anything else. “This is a lifetime organization, Sydney. We're like a family.”
“But Wilson . . .”
“Yes, I know. Terrible,” Sloane said, shaking his head. “Sometimes people do leave us. But we never, ever turn our backs on our own.”
His dark eyes held hers a moment, letting her see the deep sadness Wilson's defection had caused him.
“No,” she murmured, struck by his intensity. “We wouldn't do that.”
“We're a good organization, Sydney. A strong organization. Stick with me, and I'll take you places. We'll make a killer team.”
“I will,” she said, abandoning her thoughts of leaving SD-6. “I mean, thank you, Mr. Sloane. I'd like that.”
“Call me Arvin,” he said.
“Okay . . . Arvin.”
He beamed as if they'd accomplished something important, and all the worry inside Sydney lay down, finally at rest. She returned his happy smile, overcome with relief.
Arvin Sloane seemed strong, capable, warm. He not only understood how she felt about losing Wilson, he felt the same way. And, best of all, he believed in her. He wanted to be a family, a team. He wanted to take her places.
Maybe she'd finally found the man who could fill the hole in her life.
Things in this circus never go as planned. I did my best in Los Angeles, but Sydney's stuck deep into SD-6. She honestly believes she's part of the real CIA.
I wish to God she were.
But I can't tell her the truth. The only thing more deadly than working for Arvin Sloane is working against him.
Reginald Wilson nearly found that out the hard way.
I wish I had a picture of his face at the extraction, after I released the rest of the SD-6 team and drove him into the desert. Well, not exactly then, but a couple of hours later, when I let him out of the cuffs and he finally realized that I'm with the CIA too. Up until that moment, he'd been sure I was going to kill him.
Arvin, of course, believes that I did.
I'll admit it—part of me wanted to. Punching him in the mouth certainly felt good. If only I could have shut him up back in September, before he dragged Sydney into this mess . . .
But Sloane would have recruited my daughter with or without his help. Now all I can do is wait for my chance to bail us both out. Another year, maybe. Two, at the most . . .
Reg was right about one thing: My daughter's an exceptional girl.
Wilson's a seasoned agent, and my trainee daughter had him. Totally had him. He never saw it coming. Not only that, but I watched her pick up a CIA drop and just generally screw up a whole lot of plans on both sides of the law.
So while I'd be happier if she'd never heard of SD-6, at least now I know she can hold her own. She's smart, she's well trained, and, best of all, she's suspicious. I'm pretty sure she pegged me watching her that day in the park—not that she guessed that homeless man was me. She seems incapable of seeing me as anything other than a workaholic salesman.
I've never let her down in that role, at least.
But someday soon she'll know the truth. Her mother's death, my unavoidable absences, and how hard I've tried to set everything right, to give her a chance at a normal life . . .
I may not be much of a father figure, but I've always been her father.
DON'T MISS ANY OF THE
OFFICIAL ALIAS BOOKS
FROM BANTAM BOOKS!
ALIAS: DECLASSIFIED
THE OFFICIAL COMPANION
THE PREQUEL SERIES
RECRUITED
A SECRET LIFE
DISAPPEARED
SISTER SPY
THE PURSUIT/A MICHAEL VAUGHN NOVEL
CLOSE QUARTERS/A MICHAEL VAUGHN NOVEL
FATHER FIGURE
AND COMING SOON
FREE FALL
Alias: Father Figure
A Bantam Book / November 2003
Text and cover art copyright © 2003 by Touchstone Television
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