Chapter 25

I slowly lean forward and rest my head on the table in front of me, trying to will away the images of everything that transpired a year ago. It doesn't work; but then, I know it never does.

Broken and devastated, my mother and I escaped to Russia, where she immediately set about rebuilding her vast network of connections. In just a matter of weeks, she had regained control of the operations she'd left behind when she turned herself in to the CIA. Working together, she and I built it into something stronger than it had ever been before. Shortly thereafter, a new joint task force sprang up, comprised of agents from the FBI, CIA, and NSC. Their sole purpose was the downfall of myself and my mother, along with our operation. We've since had numerous run-ins with their agents, but they've yet to pose a major problem

"Sydney." My mother's voice interrupts my thoughts, and I lift my head to look at her. "Are you all right?"

"Am I ever?" I reply quietly. She frowns, but doesn't comment.

"I have a meeting tonight in Estonia. Would you care to accompany me?" She asks me that every time, though my answer never differs

"Who is it?" I question.

"Viktor Sechka, from Belarus. Potential new ally, promising organization."

"I'll pass." She nods.

"I expected as much. We leave in twenty minutes, if you change your mind."

"I won't."

"I know, but it's always worth a try." With a sad smile, she turns and leaves the room. I slowly look around, studying the four walls that surround me. This is where I spend most of my time now, and has been ever since we set up base here. The walls are dark and empty, comparable to my life; the lack of distraction used to help me focus when I was still relatively useful to my mother and our work. Now, the coolly impersonal room makes it easier for me to revisit the past. She constantly tells me that it isn't healthy, that I need to find a way to move on. I myself am sometimes appalled by what I've allowed myself to become. But it all comes back to one simple fact: I lost everything, and so I truly have nothing left to live for.

This is the conclusion I've reached; I realized it almost a month ago, but my mothers constant presence has since prevented me from taking any sort of action. In truth, I knew she had a meeting scheduled tonight; I have known for two weeks now. I've been biding my time, waiting for this day, and hoping she has no last minute change of plans. I've taken care of everything I need to do before I take my final action. I no longer own anything of any real value, money isn't an issue between my mother and myself, and now the only thing left to do is leave her a note. I begin going through the desk, in search of my favorite stationary and a pen that actually works.

Then I hear a light footstep in the doorway, and I turn to see her standing there, looking at me curiously. I don't know how long she's been there, but I know she witnessed more than I would have liked her to.

"What are you looking for?" she questions as she comes in to stand next to me.

"Nothing, really… just seeing what was in there, I haven't gone through my drawers here recently." She frowns a bit, and I start to feel nervous.

"Didn't you just clean them out last week?" I think for a moment, looking at her uncertainly.

"Did I? Oh. I must have forgotten…" I trail off, mentally kicking myself for such stupidity. She nods lightly, having become accustomed to such things slipping my mind.

"We're leaving now; are you sure you don't want to join us?"

"I'm sure. Maybe next time," I say, as I always do.

"Maybe," she replies softly, as she always does. Leaning down, she gives me a quick hug before making her way out and heading down the stairs. I stand up and walk into the hallway, watching out the windows until I'm sure she and her entourage are truly gone.

"Hey," I call down to Franco, the guard remaining in the house. He looks up at me expectantly. "Until my mother returns, no one is to disturb me for anything unless it's an emergency. Am I understood?"

"Yes ma'am," he replies.

"Thank you." I turn and head back into the office, easing the door shut behind me. Returning to the desk, I continue searching for the stationary, eventually finding it in the bottom drawer. I grab a pen and sit back to think before I begin writing. I shut my eyes for a moment, gathering my thoughts, then open them again and let the words flow.

Mom,

I could see by the look in your eyes- you know, and you won't be surprised by what I have to say. Thank you for understanding in some way, and thank you for not trying to stop me. We go through the same process every day; I spend hour after hour thinking, trying to make sense of the events of that week… was that really all it took? Just one week to decimate my life and leave me with nothing?

Nothing but you, I should say. You have been my last link to sanity in a world of madness. You have been my lifeline, my strength, and the only thing that has kept me alive. I hope you know that nothing that has happened, nothing that will happen, is because of you. Any good I have left in my life right now, I attribute to you. Thank you.

But as much as you have tried to save me from myself, time eventually runs out on everything. I can't stay with you anymore. I am a disease, a destroyer, and I don't want to spread that to you. I need to know that at least one vestige of goodness in my life is left in this world, even if I am not. It's ironic that you're the one filling that position. We both know you're not a very good person… but then, neither am I. It doesn't matter anymore.

I think you know as well as I- there is a fate worse than death, and that is life. Life with only one light at the end of a tunnel that's falling apart… life more torturous than any hell imaginable. Simply put, life that is not worth living. And that is why, today, precisely one year to the day my hell began, it must end.

I love you.

I read the note over quickly and sign my name to the bottom. Carefully, I set it up on the neatly organized desk, then reach into my pocket to touch the vial of liquid concealed within. I don't know exactly what it holds, which is how I wanted it to be. All I know is that if my contact came through for me, it should contain a lethal dose of a rare, fast acting poison.

Leaving the vial in my pocket, I slip out of the room, making sure to close the door behind me, and head for my bedroom. I don't spend much time in here, just the few hours of sleep I get each night. The only physical items that mean anything to me anymore are still here in this room. I sit down on the bed, looking at my nightstand, which holds nothing but pictures. Looking over them, I see everything… my father, with a rare smile on his face; Francie and Will; myself with Dixon; Vaughn and Weiss; and my mother. For once, I focus on the last image, rather than the photo of Vaughn. I pick up the framed picture of my mother, taken fairly recently, and study it closely. There is a genuine, radiant smile on her face, but her eyes hold a blinding sadness.

I frown, realizing that what I am about to do will cause that sadness to multiply to an unimaginable degree. And suddenly, I'm not sure I can do that. I referred to her as the last good thing in my life, and I suddenly understand that by going through with this, I will destroy that. I set the photo back down and touch the vial in my pocket, now uncertain as to what I should do. Before I can make any decisions, I hear something downstairs; muffled gunshots. I reach under my pillow and grab the gun, carefully making my way into the hall. At the foot of the stairs, I spot Franco on the ground, and watch as he weakly raises his gun and fires a shot. A moment later, I shudder and turn away as he is riddled with bullets.

Peering over the banister, I catch sight of a team, obviously US agents. Looking out the window, I see that the contingent inside the house seems to be alone, which means I have a chance to escape. I turn and begin to creep back towards my room when a voice carries up from below.

"Freeze!" I pause and look to the bottom of the stairs, where I see a female agent standing near Franco's body, training a gun on me. "Sydney Bristow, I presume?" she questions. I don't respond, and she nods knowingly. I glance over the banister again, seeing that the rest of her team has dispersed, most likely searching the rest of the rooms. It's just the two of us, and I don't think she's seen my gun yet. I carefully slip it into my pants, ensuring she won't see it until I pull it. She keeps a cautious eye on me as she steps around Franco and moves up the stairs before pausing again.

"Lauren Reed, NSC. I'm here to place you and your mother under arrest and return you to the United States of America. If you cooperate, you will not be harmed."

"At least not until the part where they send us to the electric chair," I cut in dryly. She doesn't reply, and we continue to stare one another down. Before either of us has an opening to make a move, gunfire erupts outside, and moments later my mother strides in, followed by two of her men, who walk past us and head down the hall. Her gaze immediately locks on Lauren Reed, who looks terrified but refuses to back down. My mother swivels her assault rifle towards Lauren, who emphasizes the gun she has pointing at me.

"I know you're good at what you do Miss Derevko, but so am I. If you make another move, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger." Lauren's eyes flit back and forth between the two of us, and another terse standoff ensues. My left hand is slowly inching down towards my gun, but before I can pull it, another burst of gunfire interrupts us. This time, it's a trio of NSC agents, tracking down the two guards who had come in with my mother. Both guards and one NSC agent fall dead as they enter the room, and the two remaining agents immediately train their weapons on my mother.

"I'm afraid you lose," Lauren says, almost sounding sincerely apologetic. My gaze wanders the room, taking in the two guns aimed at my mother, her rifle pointed at Lauren, and Reed's own gun directed at me. I know that I'm the only chance we have of getting out of here alive, and so I once again slowly reach for my gun as Lauren continues speaking to my mother.

"If you would please drop your weapon, we will take you in, and I'll put in a good word for you, assuming you cooperate."

"A good word?" Irina spits. "That won't make a difference, and you know it. Our fate is sealed; the only thing left to determine is when it will happen." Lauren nods briefly.

"You're probably right, but at least if we do this my way, you and your daughter will have some time to make your final amends with one another."

"We have no amends left to make," I whisper harshly before squeezing off a shot that takes out one of the NSC agents. Chaos erupts as everyone ducks for cover before the ensuing gunfight gets underway.

"Drop your weapons and we'll allow you to walk out of here alive," my mother calls.

"You know I won't stop coming after you," Lauren replies.

"No, but I also know that after today, you'll not find us ever again." She leans out a bit as she says this, but a shot from Lauren sends her scrambling back. I can see her around the pillar she's using for cover, and I signal for her to keep Lauren occupied. She nods, and moves out to provide a short burst of cover fire, which I use to sneak down the stairs, positioning myself just around the corner from Lauren.

"Is this truly how you want it to end?" Lauren calls.

"Not quite," I reply, stepping out from behind her. She whirls around and steps back, scurrying to raise her gun as I level mine at her. I risk a glance up to try to locate my mother, but she's still concealed and I can't see her; I also don't see the NSC agent rising up to my left until it's too late.

"Sydney!" I hear my mother scream just as I feel the bullet rip through me; I gasp as I stagger back into the wall. I manage to stay on my feet long enough to see her open fire on the agent, finishing him on the spot. Sliding down the wall, I can only watch as she leaps out from behind her pillar, seemingly forgetting about Lauren, who has not forgotten about her.

"This isn't what I wanted," Lauren says softly as she fires a single shot. I don't see where it hits, but I do hear my mothers body land, and I gasp, feeling the tears beginning, caused by both the physical and emotional pain. Lauren turns to me, and then hurries to my side, placing a hand over my chest in an effort to stop the bleeding.

"I truly am sorry," she whispers.

"So am I," I choke out. She looks at me curiously as she reaches for her headset with her left hand, keeping her right firmly pressed against my wound. Drawing on a reserved strength I had forgotten I had, I grasped a shard of glass from the ground next to me and lunged forward, plunging it into her throat. Her eyes widen and steps back as the blood begins to spill from her mouth. I watch coldly as she tumbles down the few remaining stairs, her body landing near Irina. Exerting the last of my strength, I being attempting to crawl down the stairs, trying to reach my mothers side, but I know I won't live long enough to make it. I get close enough to see the blood that bubbles forth from the bullet lodged in her throat; just like Sark, I think to myself. I give up the struggle and lean back against the stair above me, calmly awaiting death's embrace.

I shut my eyes and allow my mind to wander, back up the stairs and to my room, where it focuses again on the photos on my nightstand. I see them as clearly as if they were actually right in front of me, but I can feel myself fading as my mind searches out the picture of my mother. I soon see her, still with the radiant smile and pain-filled eyes. My breath grows shallower as I mentally take a closer look at the image; in doing so, I can see that the pain in her eyes has multiplied to a degree previously unimaginable.

I shiver violently, feeling an overwhelming coldness coming over me; images flash through my head, all the people I have loved and lost, and as I feel me leaving myself, I know that this is the way it had to end.