He wakes before her, covers twisted around his ankles, not sure if this was his doing or hers. She's moved away from him, sleeping soundly on her stomach on the other side of the bed. He watches for a moment, then slips out of bed, pads around to her side, pulls the crumpled sheet and blanket back up over her.

He walks down to the kitchen, starts a pot of coffee and tries to estimate how many hours of sleep he managed. The coffee maker just beginning to gurgle when his cell phone rings, and it takes him awhile to remember where he'd left it last night. Living room, end table.

Weiss. "Hey, Mike."

"Hey." He sits on the couch, avoids the urge to put his feet up on the coffee table.

"You talk to Sydney yet?"

"Yeah. She spent the night over here."

"Good." Weiss pauses. "It was bad, Mike. Really bad."

He nods as if Weiss can see him. "She told me."

"We needed you on this, Mike. I don't know if it'll go anywhere, but I'm going to request that you be transferred back. Reynolds, he's — he was a good agent, but he wasn't the planner you are. None of us are."

That's exactly what you were afraid of. "Eric — look, I appreciate it, but do you really think Kendall's going to budge? He just transferred me."

"Yeah, and now he's got three openings, because Dixon's not going to be up and at 'em for a long time. And it's gonna be more than three openings, at the rate we're going, unless we get you and your fine-tooth comb back in here. He's a fool if he doesn't see that."

"I — you know I want to come back. If you can swing this — "

"You'll owe me big time? Yeah," Weiss says. "You know I'm not just doing it for you, though."

"Yeah."

"Look, Mike, I'm pulling into the garage now. I'm going to try to corner Kendall first thing, so I'll let you know how it went."

"Okay. Thank you."

He ends the call, rises to find Sydney standing in the doorway between kitchen and living room, coffee mug in her hand. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. That was Weiss."

"Oh."

He walks up to her, lays a hand on her shoulder. "Syd, how are you feeling?"

"Better, I guess. But that's relative."

"Do you have to go in today?"

"No, unless something comes up. I did my debrief last night. I'm going to go try to visit Dixon, though. They were going to fly him back this morning, once they got his leg stabilized."

"I'll take a personal day, then, and go with you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to. Just let me call Devlin's office and leave a message."

He takes a step away from her to make the call, surprised when Devlin himself answers the phone. Checks his watch — just a few minutes after seven.

"Hello, sir. Sorry to interrupt. I was just calling to say I'm going to take a personal day today."

"Tokyo?"

"Excuse me?"

"Agent Bristow was on the Tokyo operation. I assume that's why you'd like the personal day?"

"Yes. I'm sorry — I didn't know that's where it was."

"Ah. Michael, I'd like to give you the day, but I want you on the investigation of that mission. The manner in which it was blown suggests that there may be a mole in the JTF or the Agency. They wanted someone from Langley to do it, which was crazy, with you sitting out here with your background. I told the Director so and he agreed with me. So you're on this case."

"Oh." He looks to Sydney, shakes his head no. It's okay, she mouths. "I guess I'll be in as soon as I can, then."

"Good. Michael, I don't think I have to tell you this, but this could be your ticket out of CI, if you do it right. They'd like you to start with Dixon — there's some suspicion given the timing of everything and the fact that he just came from SD-6 that he may be a plant. Beyond that, the investigation is up to your discretion."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Goodbye." Devlin hangs up.

He looks to Sydney, steps back close to her. "I'm sorry, Syd. They want me to work on the investigation of your mission."

"It's okay, Vaughn, really," she says. "They suspect a mole, don't they? That's why they want you on it. And they think it's Dixon."

"Yes."

"That's where they were aiming a lot of their questions at debrief. Vaughn, I know it wasn't him. I've known him for seven years."

"I know Syd, but look — we probably shouldn't be talking about this."

"What, so I won't bias you? Vaughn, you've heard me talk about Dixon for two years."

"I know. I just want to go into this as fresh as possible. I'm sure the evidence will speak for itself." He smiles, tries to make it reassuring. "I'm going to go upstairs and get ready. You'll be okay?"

She nods.

"I am sorry I can't be with you today, Syd, but I want this to go well. If there's a mole — if there's someone putting you in danger — I want to find him."

"I know." She reaches out, pulls him into a hug, a short, soft kiss.

"Call me if you need anything, or if you want to talk. You can stay here as long as you like."

"Okay."

He turns to head up the stairs, checks his watch. 7:10. If he hurries, he can be out the door by 7:30, in the office well before eight. And then you're going to find yourself a mole, and maybe, somehow, that will fix everything.

———

As he'd promised Devlin, he starts with Dixon's file first, pulled from the electronic database and printed. It begins with his statement, long and raw. Followed by a transcript of his interrogation, statements on his innocence from Jack and Sydney, then a few of Dixon's own reports on the missions he'd done as Sydney's partner.

He skims them all and then starts reading the statement. It moves logically, chronologically, from Dixon's recruitment through his career in SD-6. Dixon works step-by-step through the recruitment process, second-guessing himself at every opportunity. I should have seen and I should have known, how could I have not noticed?

It feels odd to see Dixon, who Vaughn has only known as a skilled, veteran agent, describe himself as a green recruit, on the same simple wiretap missions and gofer assignments Vaughn performed in his first year.

But the first real shock comes about three years into Dixon's time at SD-6, when he'd had a partner die — shot, no chance of survival — on a mission. He's never heard Sydney mention it, wonders if she even knows. That incident had set Dixon back — two months off of active duty, and then simpler missions when he returned.

Dixon recovered, as did his career. His first mention of Sydney is reluctant; she'd been a new recruit assigned to work a relatively simple operation in Paris with him. But Dixon hadn't wanted to be "saddled with someone so inexperienced." Or maybe he didn't want to see another partner die. His opinion of her changed after the mission, impressed by her talent.

On through, and the missions begin to look familiar, until he's reading about Sydney's confession and the raid on SD-6 from Dixon's point of view.

———

Devlin walks in with a stack of files as he's finishing his notes on Dixon, planning now to move on to the other members of the team. Weiss, Jack and Sydney last — Weiss because they have been friends since Weiss joined the Agency, Jack because he's just been through his file, and Sydney because he already knows her file in its entirety.

"Michael, they've cleared you to read the operational files and listen to the comm audio for the mission." Devlin sets the files down near one corner of Vaughn's desk. "These are copies of the files. They'll send someone over with the tapes shortly."

"Thank you, sir," Vaughn says. "I've been through all of the files we have on Dixon. There's nothing amiss, that I can see."

"Okay. Make sure you note that in your report."

Devlin walks out, and he begins on the other agents' profiles, longing to look through the operational files. First things first. You want to know these people before you learn what happened. Even if you already know most of them.

———

The agent assigned to bring him the audio, it turns out, is Weiss, who arrives shortly after Vaughn eats lunch — carryout, from the deli across the street — at his desk.

"Special delivery," he announces from the doorway.

"Hey. Those are my tapes?"

"Yeah. Well, actually, your CD, but same basic thing."

"Good. I'm almost done with these profiles."

Weiss walks up to his desk, CD-R, slim jewel case in hand. "You have to read Sydney's file? Don't you have that whole damn thing memorized?"

"No, but close enough. I wanted to be fair and go through everyone."

"Please tell me you're skimming, at least."

"Yes."

"Good, because let's face it, if Sydney's the mole and you haven't figured it out by now, we're all screwed," Weiss says. "Listen, I tried to find Kendall this morning, but he's been pretty scarce. When I do, you'll be the first to know."

"Thanks."

"Hey, I'm going to go say hi to a few people, but I'll stop back if you have any questions on the audio or anything."

Weiss starts to walk out, but turns around in the doorway. "You read my file, didn't you?"

"Yes, I read your file. Get out of here."

He glances through Sydney's file, mostly looking for anything new, anything he hadn't been aware of. There is nothing. Not like you expected there to be anything. It would make no sense, beyond the fact that you trust her, and she's earned that trust.

He sets her file on the top of his completed pile and opens the top one off the stack Devlin left. Mission plan and specifications — what he would have put together, if he'd still been there. He opens the file and begins to read.

The operation, according to the front-page summary, was based on records they'd found deep in the Alliance computer network. While the JTF had known for some time that each Alliance member was implanted with a microchip, these files were the first indication they'd seen of GPS capabilities in the chips.

With GPS, they would be able to pinpoint the location of every Alliance member that had escaped, including Arvin Sloane. The chips were developed at a Tokyo research firm with Alliance ties, and the JTF planned a raid on that firm, with the hopes of finding design plans for the chips, perhaps even software that would allow them to access the GPS functionality.

He reads on, into the details.

———

Weiss interrupts his focus some time later. "Hey, how we doing in here?"

"Good. I do have a question, though."

Weiss approaches his desk again, grabs one of the chairs and spins it around, sitting with his chest leaning against the back. "Okay, shoot."

"Marshall hacked the security system in the facility, right?"

"Yeah. He was supposed to try to loop the feed on the video cameras there, and direct a live feed back here so we could see what was going on, but it was only a fifty-fifty shot that it would work, and it didn't, so he had to just turn off the cameras."

"Why didn't they use the motion detectors?"

"What?"

"There's an older system listed in the site report, a motion detector network that was installed 12 years ago. It looks like it's still operational, in the schematics."

"I don't think anyone checked into that."

"They should have. We used something like that before, with Sydney. She was supposed to do a brush pass with one of our guys, but we were afraid Dixon was going to catch up with her. There was no camera in the hallway outside the room where they were doing the pass, but there was a motion detector. You hack it so that their security people don't see any motion, but you're still able to use it to know if anyone's moving around, and where they're moving, if there's a whole network."

"Son of a bitch." Weiss slaps his palm down on the edge of the desk. "You saw we couldn't get a satellite with infrared tasked over Tokyo during our time window, but that — "

"Would have at least given you some sort of warning."

"And a way to get out. Part of our problem was we got trapped. No good exits. We could have seen where they weren't," Weiss says. "This is why we need you back, Mike. I haven't been able to find Kendall yet, but I'll make sure I tell him about this. He can't ignore that."

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"Yeah, but it's worth a shot. You got any more questions?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, then I'm going to head back and give Kendall hell." Weiss rises.

"Good luck."

"You too."

———

He has to go to the supply closet for a pair of headphones before he can listen to the audio, not comfortable with broadcasting it, even with the door to his office closed.

The cord isn't long enough, and it requires some maneuvering of his computer before he can sit comfortably enough to read the files as he listens. Everything set, he opens his CD drive and places the disk in the tray.

The audio loading, some static, and then —

"Base ops, this is Mountaineer." A voice from his past, a flash of anger — at Kendall, at everything. "We are approaching the facility. Looks clear."

"We've disabled security." Kendall himself running comms. "Enter when ready."

"Copy that. Approaching the east entrance." Strange, to hear her like this now; it has only been a few weeks since he's sat back in L.A. with the headset on and listened, and worried. But it feels like much longer. This is what you wanted, anyway, to be involved, to know what's going on. You're going to hear it, now. Hear it all, although it's too late to make a difference, at least in this op.

"Inside the east entrance," Sydney says. "All clear. Heading toward Lab C."

"Copy that." Kendall, and then a period of silence. Vaughn checks the files, reads that they moved, uninterrupted, up one set of stairs and into a hallway sided by Labs A through D. Past security and into Lab C with a new Marshall-designed device.

"We're in." Weiss, this time. A few seconds of static, and then, "Are we sure this is the right room? There's nothing in here. I mean, it's damn near empty."

"Search the other labs, then," Kendall says.

Silent comms. He imagines Sydney, or Weiss maybe, using hand signals to direct searching of the other labs. They split up into teams of two, a lab for each.

He tenses, waiting for the beginning of the ambush. But everything was clear when they emerged from the lab, he reads.

"There's nothing in any of the labs," Sydney says.

"Okay." A pause from Kendall. "There's a large space in the basement — looks like maybe storage. Check down there."

"Copy that," Sydney says. "Heading to the basement."

Down two flights of stairs, then, and through another door with Marshall's device. The room they'd entered was large, he reads, filled with filing cabinets and storage containers. In his mind, it looks much like the Records room he's spent so much time in over the past week. They'd started searching and —

Gunshots over the audio. Tat. Tat. Tat. Kendall asks what the hell is going on out there.

"Shit!" Weiss. "We're under fire."

More shots. By now they must be returning fire. But not Reynolds, who'd been killed instantly — shot in the head, only a few cabinets away from Sydney. Sydney herself hit three times, one for each bruise. And she could have been Reynolds. You were so close to losing her, and you didn't even know it.

The attackers had surprise on their side, but there were only four in the first wave. After the team recovered, they'd killed three and assumed the fourth retreated.

The gunfire thins and then stops.

"We've gotta get out of here," Weiss says. "Blackjack's here with me. Slingshot, you copy?"

"Yes."

"Mojave?"

"Yes."

"Atlantis?"

Silence.

"Damn it. Mountaineer?"

Silence, again. His stomach lurches instinctively, even though he knows she's alive.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Okay, people. We've got two agents down. Here's what we're going to do — fan out, move through the aisles as quick as you can, see if you can find them, get a status on them. Then we're gonna take the west exit. Base ops, we need immediate extraction, west exit."

The gunmen came through the east exit. Weiss had guessed, not knowing if there were other men, or where they were.

"Mountaineer, Atlantis, do you copy?" Weiss asks. He is running now, breathing hard, probably hoping he doesn't have to tell Vaughn she's dead.

"I'm here." Sydney, gasping. He visualizes her pushing herself up off of the floor, pale and pained. Did she fall facing Reynolds? Did she have to get up and look at him with his brains blown out? "Atlantis is dead."

"Damn it. Are you hurt? You need help?"

"I was — it hit my vest." Her voice wavering. "I'm fine. I can walk."

"Okay, Syd. We're going to head to the west exit."

They'd all come together at the exit, Sydney the last to arrive. Then run up another set of stairs, out into a large open room. Been nearly to the door outside, but —

More gunshots. Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Another team of gunmen from a side hallway, he reads. Dixon hit, Watson killed, another shot to the head.

"Dixon!" Sydney screams. He knows her face — the panic, the fear.

"Grab him and go!" Weiss shouts. "Cover us!"

Sydney and Weiss had picked Dixon up, and under cover from Lee made their way out the door, to the waiting helicopter.

Chopper blades and more gunfire. "Come on!" Weiss.

At some point, Lee hit twice in the vest. Weiss pulled him up onto the helicopter, and they lifted off to the sound of bullets pinging off the sides.

The audio cuts off abruptly. Vaughn slides the headphones from his head, lays them on top of the file. Head in his hand, he sits and tries to collect himself, exhales, long and shaky.

He pushes the headphones aside and starts on the rest of the file.

———

He is reading Lee's statement on the mission when Weiss calls. He will save Sydney's for last this time, not sure he can handle reading it.

"Hey, Mike, I talked to Kendall. He's not budging. I mentioned the motion detector thing — he said it was easy to say after the fact. Which is bullshit, I know. But he said as long as you two are in a relationship, you will continue to work in separate departments."

"What if — "

Could you do it? Could you really do it? And would it be right? You can't not do it, now, can you? Not after hearing all that. Not when you know what happened out there.

" — what if we weren't in a relationship?"

Weiss is silent, must be shocked. Vaughn is a bit shocked himself; it is one thing to think it, another to say it, to actually go forward.

"You're serious, aren't you? You've got to be serious. There's no way you'd joke around about this."

"Yes, I am serious." He pauses. "I can't keep doing this, Eric. Knowing she's out there and doing that and I don't have any part of it — it's driving me insane. I think maybe I've known for awhile that what I did as her handler was more important than what I do as her boyfriend, no matter how much I want that. Listening to that audio, reading the file, I can't avoid it anymore. If there's a chance for me to come back, I think — I think I have to take it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I guess I'll talk to Kendall and ask him if I can return if I'm no longer dating Sydney."

"Have you talked to Sydney about this?"

"No. I mean, I just — I was hoping Kendall would just let me come back, no strings attached."

"Don't you think you should talk to her? This is as much her decision as it is yours."

"I will talk to her. But this is my decision."

"Mike, are you sure? I mean, really, really sure? After you've waited all this time to be with her, you want to go back to the way things were? Only worse, I'm guessing?"

"They're worse now, Eric, that's the problem. And I never thought I'd want to go back. But I think I could handle that. I don't think I can keep going the way things are."

"Okay," Weiss says. "Let me go talk to Kendall about it, then. I'll call you back. But, for the record, I really don't know about this one."

"Neither do I," he says, hanging up the phone, a soft, plastic click.

———

Nervous, disjointed, stomach tight, he pulls in to her driveway, puts his car in park. Tries to steel himself for what's ahead. It's going to hurt like hell, but it's the right thing to do, and you know it.

Weiss had called back, told him that Kendall said if the relationship were clearly over, he could return to the team. Closed their conversation with, "I hope you know what you're doing, Mike."

I do too, Eric. But something has to change, because he can't keep going this way.

She is startled when she answers the door; it is still early afternoon. He'd found his attention drifting when he tried to read through the statements, and decided it would be best to get this over with, return to work later.

"Vaughn — hi. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just — can I come in?"

"Of course." She swings the door all the way open, steps aside.

He walks beside her to the couch, raises one hand to lay it on her shoulder, her back, maybe, but it feels wrong, with what he's about to do, and he lets it drop to his side.

He sits, facing her. "How are you feeling, Syd?"

"Better," she says. "I saw Dixon in the hospital. He's going to have a long recovery, but he should regain full use of the leg. He was supposed to have a second surgery this afternoon, to get everything totally set."

"Good." He tries to smile, finds it comes out weak, feels false. "Look, Syd, I know you're wondering why I'm here. They gave me clearance to listen to the comm audio, from Tokyo."

"Oh."

He brings a hand up to his face, rubs his eyes. His fingers are shaking.

"Sydney, I — I can't keep doing this."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't just watch you go out there and not know what's happening, not have any ability to help, not be able to contribute to what you're doing."

"I know it's hard, Vaughn. But Weiss was going to talk to Kendall — "

"He did. Kendall isn't budging on us. He said as long as we're in a relationship, he won't let me return to the Task Force."

"Well, then I don't know what you can do, Vaughn. I know it's hard, but we're stuck."

"I can end the relationship," he says, softly. "I'm going to call Kendall, and tell him that's what I intend to do."

"What?" Her eyes go wide in shock, brows knitting together. "Vaughn, you can't — you can't be serious."

"Syd, I am. If there was any other way, I'd take it. But I can't keep going the way things are."

"You can't. Did you ever think about talking to me before you made a decision, Vaughn? Do I get a say in any of this?"

"We're talking about it now."

"No, you're telling me about it. Your mind is already made up." She speaks with narrow, critical eyes, then softens slightly. "Look, Vaughn, I know you spent a long time as my handler, and I appreciate that you still want to be involved, that you want to — protect me, or whatever. But I can take care of myself out there. I was doing it for a long time before I even met you."

"And that last mission, that was protecting yourself?"

"Yes, it was bad. But do you think it would have been any better with you involved? Was it really bad enough for you to go make snap decisions without involving me?"

"Syd, this — it wasn't just this. I've been thinking about where I fit in, I guess, for a long time. I can't do it. Watch you go off on those missions, knowing I won't know until you come back whether you're hurt — or worse. It's making me insane."

"You're not the first person to have to go through that Vaughn. Lots of people in the CIA have significant others at home, and they don't know — "

"The difference is that I was there, before. I do know, or I know enough to guess. And what I guess, Syd — it's awful. If I can go back to knowing everything, I have to."

"So what? You're telling me that it's over, and there's nothing I can do about it?"

"You can transfer," he says, and it sounds weak, terribly weak. "Or quit."

"You know I can't possibly do that. I have to find Sloane."

"And I need to know that I'm doing everything I can to help you, and to make sure that you stay safe while you do it." He reaches across her lap to lay his hand over hers, squeezing tight when she doesn't protest.

"Don't get me wrong, Syd. This is killing me to have to do this. There's been a lot about the last few weeks that it's really going to hurt to let go of. But it kills me to watch you go off on these missions and not know if you're never going to come back. It kills me to see you upset and not know why. No matter how great the other things are, I can't keep doing that. I want to be with you, but with things the way they are now, there's only one decision I can make."

She softens, lets go, tears thick in her eyes and then streaming down her cheeks.

"This doesn't have to be permanent," he says. "But it does have to be for now. I have to be able to go in and honestly tell Kendall that we're not dating, and won't be for the near future. If things change — if we catch Sloane, and you still want to, then maybe we can try again."

"There's nothing I can say, is there? You're decided."

"Syd, I'm sorry. I just can't think of anything else to do."

She bows her head, swipes at wet cheeks with her free hand. Looks back up at him, her eyes hurt, resigned. "If you're going to come back, there's something you should know first."

"What?"

She looks down at their hands, still joined. It is inappropriate, now, but he will not let go until he has to. This is his last chance for even this slight intimacy, and the finality of it strikes him hard.

"You know that the raid on SD-2 went badly, and that we're still trying to track down a lot of their leadership."

"Yeah. That's been one of my assignments, to try to find a mole in Station Munich."

She nods. "We think the leader of SD-2 may be — Vaughn, we suspect that your father is still alive, and that he was the head of SD-2."

Delayed shock. He feels a strange weightlessness, for a moment, as though the couch is gone and the room is swirling around him.

"What? They can't — I don't understand. How — how could they even think he's alive, much less heading an Alliance cell? There was an investigation into his death, Syd. The evidence was compelling. I've read the files myself. I've seen all the pictures — "

"Most of the evidence was based on dental records, Vaughn. Dental records can be faked. I wouldn't have believed it myself, but I've seen the tapes."

"Tapes?"

"The team that raided SD-2 found surveillance tapes of the facility. It took them awhile to snake their way through Analysis, but eventually they identified the man they thought was heading the cell. I saw the picture and I recognized him — it took me awhile to realize it, where I'd seen him before. But I remembered. The file you showed me, of your father — "

"I can't believe this." He pulls his hand away from hers. "It's impossible. Even if he was alive, why would he leave the life he had for that?"

"We don't know that he left that life willingly. My mom won't talk about it, other than to insist that she killed him. We've been trying to track him down for the last week — that's one of the things we hoped to get out of this last mission. We thought it would be a way to locate him and Sloane."

"Wait. You've known about this for a week?" Dizzy, standing against his better judgment. This is her secret, and it was a secret from you. No wonder she was so fucking upset. She's been lying to you —

"I wanted to tell you, Vaughn, but they ordered me to keep it a secret."

Her hand reaching out in the space between them, seeking to pull him back to sitting. He doesn't want to touch her, doesn't want to sit.

"I've seen you blow lots of secrets before, Sydney, when it was convenient for you. How could you know my father was alive and not tell me?"

"Might be alive, Vaughn, might. And don't think that it was easy for me to keep this a secret. Do you think I wanted to lie to you, when you're the one person I never wanted to keep secrets from? I was going to tell you, anyway, but Weiss convinced me to wait until we were sure it was him. I knew it would be hard for you to hear that we even suspected — "

"Weiss knew, too?" Everyone. Everyone!

She nods, appears on the verge of tears again.

"Vaughn, I'm sorry. I just didn't want to hurt you unless it was true." She sighs. "There's something else you should know. Kendall gave my father permission to take my mother on another mission, after this one failed. Everything's gone smoothly, and they've made all their scheduled contacts, but I know how you feel about letting her out."

He sits again, a little farther away this time.

"Syd — "You have to tell her, you know. "There's something I haven't told you, too. Last week, someone pulled your DNA profile from FBI records. You were on a mission, so I contacted your father. I didn't know who else to go to."

"And?"

"He told me he was the one who pulled it. Apparently, Sloane said some things to him that made him doubt that he was — he pulled it for a paternity test, Syd."

"He did what?" She bolts from the couch, and he flinches as she turns to face him. "You — you knew he did that and you didn't tell me, and you yell at me for keeping secrets from you? You know what you are, Vaughn? You're a hypocrite. A fucking hypocrite. How dare you? How dare you just ditch me without even talking about it first? You've never even let on that there was that much of a problem, and now all of a sudden this is your only option?"

"I thought I could handle it. I didn't want to worry you."

"So what, you just want to leave me?"

"It's not like that, Syd, and you know it." He stands to face her, hands clenched at his sides. "I was just trying to protect you, the same as you were with me. I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well you know what, Vaughn? I am hurt."

She turns, walks over to the counter, picks up her keys and looks back at him, eyes hard but glistening.

"I'm going to go for a drive. I'd like for you to be gone when I come back. I don't think there's any reason for you to be here, anymore."

Sydney moving towards the door —

"Syd, don't do this."

Sydney spinning around —

"Why? You got what you wanted, Vaughn. We broke up. I'm sorry if you thought that was going to go well."

And then she is gone, out the door. It slams so hard he can feel it beneath his feet, deep in his chest.

Her Land Rover grumbling in the driveway.

It hurts even more than he'd expected.

He sits back on the couch, lays his head in his hands. He will need to leave soon, although he'd like to stay and wait for her to cool off, to return. That's probably not the best plan, now. Better to give it a day, try to pull her aside at work tomorrow and speak to her there.

But it could. It would make sense of the discrepancies in the journals. Is it really possible? Could he still be alive? Working for the Alliance? Had he already turned back then?

Alain Christophe blasted Arvin Sloane's files. Maybe Christophe did the same for his father. Maybe there was a CI investigation into his father, other references pulled from the records before Christophe left.

No, the father he knew was a good man, a patriot. A man who doesn't deserve to be indicted on thin proof Vaughn has never seen. There's no way he could be alive. He would have come back, for Mom, for you.

He stands, not sure when Sydney will return, starts toward the door.