It's a shotgun, baby, I think I'll use it tonight/ It's a shutdown, baby, I've got you in my sights.
In Chicago, there is a bank. In fact, there are many banks in Chicago. This one is noteworthy in the fact that it houses Black December, the Organization's infamous terrorist cell, which means it only looks like an ordinary bank in theory. Inside... Well, okay, it's still an ordinary bank until you realize that the main elevators only go up seven
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The doors open on the eighth floor and there's Cole, grinning like a hyena who has just found a weak zebra in the herd. "Knew you'd come, Julian."
The two guards shove Sark out of the elevator and he gives them both withering glances before turning his entire focus on Cole. He can't even bring himself to be scared of him right now. He's conflicted and broken and fucked over and this isn't making things better, but after what happened with April back with Thane, the mere thought of anyone else doing that to her and him allowing it to continue happening or even making it worse just eradicates even the need to be afraid from him.
"Of course you did," Sark snaps. "After all, you're the expert. I believe we have an arrangement."
Somehow Cole's grin just widens. "Yeah. We got an arrangement."
"Then you should understand that you're to let both of them go." He doesn't believe Cole'll do it. Not for a second, especially now that he's seen how badly he'd fight for them. As long as April and Sydney are out there, even after Cole's broken him the way he wants to break him, he'll always have that nagging suspicion that Sark's thoughts are straying.
Thankfully, that's part of his plan. "I also want a moment with them."
Cole's smile fades. "Not a chance."
"I believe given my current state of affairs, you owe me that." Thane didn't let him have this moment, but he couldn't have bargained with Thane even if Thane hadn't decided to despise him. Cole, however, for all his insanity, can be bartered with, provided he already knows he's won.
Cole doesn't even consider it, however, much to Sark's chagrin. "I owe you shit, Julian. If you had just said yes from the get-go, this whole thing coulda been prevented."
"How was I to know you were going to take it like an insufferable child?" Sark snaps and thinks for a moment that Cole's going to retaliate and some of that old fear comes back again, but he forces it aside. He could have hurt April- he might have already done so- and she's been through enough as it is. He deserves to die for that and die he will, if this goes according to plan.
Sark just lowers his voice before Cole can retaliate. "You have what you wanted. You have me. Focus on that and let me have this."
Cole looks like he's going to argue the point, but either he has too much faith in a loyalty he full well is flexible or he knows that he's won and considering the fact that between Fiona, Michael, and himself, he's lost half a team and considering what Sark doesn't even know happened with Sydney and April... Cole's excited enough about winning to let it go to his head.
So Cole grabs him by the arm a little too roughly and starts dragging him back towards his little 'conversation room,' practically tossing him inside with such force that Toni raises her gun at him as he staggers to right himself without falling over, only lowering it again when Cole follows through.
"Look who finally decided to show up," Cole says proudly, taking the shotgun from the guard and studying it. "Made a mess of things too, but that's how it goes." He shoves the barrel of the shotgun into Sark's back to urge him forward and Sark resists the urge to try to just kill him right now, but either fear or the fact that he knows it wouldn't work either way stays his hand.
"You got a moment," Cole says, poking him again. "Take it."
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Everything she's been through, and April is still an optimist.
There's still that edge in her eye, though - the killing instinct, the thirst for blood. Cole's blood. It's not exactly a welcome addition, but it's better than being broken, now isn't it.
"I knew you'd come," she says with a smile.
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He drops down on his knees in front of her, holding back more than he can describe. This is not how he wants to see her again, but at least she's not bleeding and not broken. At least this time, no one's going to lose, not unless this really goes sour. At any rate, she's getting out of here if it's the last thing he does. He let her go once and he swore to whoever there was to swear to that he wasn't going to lose her again. When he said he wanted a second chance, he never realized how literal that was going to be.
It takes him a long time to actually say anything, he just gently strokes her cheek, tries to ignore that instinct he can see in her eyes, and then kisses the top of her head, before whispering two words in her ear in Mandarin. "Just watch."
This plan he has in his head is going to be... He doesn't know what it's going to be, but it's going to be something and he's going to hate himself even if it does work.
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She's close enough to hear him whispering to April. Alright, Mandarin. Let's go with Mandarin. She drops her voice and murmurs to him, "No offense, but this had better not turn out like your last rescue attempt." He can't actually be giving in, but she's not seeing an easy way out of this with Cole and the woman with him both holding guns on them. Come on, Sark. Now would be the time for a brilliant plan.
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This, as crazy as it seems is the better option.
He switches to Russian as he walks over to her, just because it's easier. Whatever I say, do not respond in English. Just keep switching.
This, Sydney, might be the last thing that Sark's going to say for a few moments that's actually going to make sense. Embrace it.
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She nods a little, switches over to German. "Not a problem. What's the plan? ...Do you have a plan?"
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Cole's not good with languages, no, but you work this life for a long time, you can pick up on certain phrases, certain words, so just sitting here and telling her what's going to happen will tip Cole off eventually, and that's not what he wants to do exactly. The more confused Cole is, the better.
And to do that, you have to be a bit... Creative with what you say. Almost poetic.
He gives Sydney a look that might be apologetic and glances over at Cole, who is just glowering at him. Right. Time's of the essence.
He plants a hand on the back of her chair and leans forward, barely whispering in her ear, so it looks more sensual than, well, like, he's whispering covert secrets in her ear. If he's heard one thing about Cole, it's that he shares a certain fondness for Sydney Bristow and this will piss him off just as much as not being able to know what they're saying.
And then he starts up in French and why this plan is crazy becomes completely evident, "She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies..."
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"What the hell are you doing?" she whispers fiercely, in Arabic this time.
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Believe him, Sydney, he knows he looks like a lunatic, and he'd be more concerned about that if he weren't in the presence of a lunatic.
Italian now, "And all that's best of dark and bright meet in the aspect and her eyes." He stops and then switches to Japanese. "Really, Sydney, you act like you've never heard poetry before."
Yes, because she's the crazy one here. He might be trying to piss her off, because he's never seen her more motivated than by anger. Anger's good.
He adjusts himself so that he can fumble for something inside his jacket. If he can just find the damn thing before Cole tears him away from her...
Watching this whole scene, Cole has started to seethe and Toni and the two guards have decided that self-preservation trumps loyalty, especially since Toni has some sneaking suspicion that in another life, that sort of anger from Cole got her killed.
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"I'm sorry if I can't appreciate BYRON when I'm handcuffed to a chair and some other guy I've never met has a GUN on me." Japanese this time. And then Greek. "And by the way, your sense of appropriate timing SUCKS." She'd ask him again for an explanation, but she's starting to think she's not going to get one.
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"Well, I suppose if we die here, no one will ever be able to tell me that my final words were not a model of culture and sophistication." That sentence started out in Irish-Gaelic, but halfway through it, he had to backtrack when he realized that he's not entirely sure Sydney speaks that and it became Czech, so there's a bit of confusion for Cole.
And dammit, he's running out of languages and Cole's not getting any less pissy.
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Running through languages in her head, the next one she hits on is Urdu, and she doesn't stop to consider that Sark might not speak that before she goes on. "If we die here, there had better be a special level of hell for pretentious ASSES, and I swear if there isn't one, I will create it myself and personally drag you down there, so help me God."
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It's ludicrous. The whole thing. And Cole's getting angry and it all could go to hell in half a second, and somehow that makes it funnier.
He's reciting poetry at her!
She loses it just a little, actually audibly laughing as opposed to silent shaking that could have been tears or fear or something.
This could go... interestingly.
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...Which is about when Cole pulls him away with enough force to show exactly how annoyed he is by this turn of events (the laughter probably isn't helping much) if the look on his face didn't make that evident. The shotgun has been discarded, which might be a fatal mistake if Cole were considering any fact beyond that he has two people handcuffed to chairs and another one not going anywhere.
"What're you playin' at, Sark?" Cole practically snarls and... It's never good when Cole drops the cutesy familiarity for something else.
Sark's... Well, Terrified is a good word for it. He was so angry when he came up here, he didn't let the terror show, but now he's realized exactly what he had to do to make sure Sydney got out and maybe the reality didn't hit him until this moment. And yet, somehow, he manages to keep the snark because it's all he's got to him right now, "Absolutely nothing. Merely saying my fond farewells. Agent Bristow and I tend to get a bit carried away, but you know how-"
And Cole's grip on his wrist tightens and there's a red-hot pain searing its way through his veins that nearly drives him to his knees. He writhes and attempts to manage to get control of his legs enough to see if he can retaliate, but when he attempts to spin into a kick, Cole, who isn't attempting to fight through pain, practically sweepkicks his legs from out from under him and catches him against his chest, snatching up his other wrist and... Well, there's no fighting back through all that pain.
Cole's voice is practically in his ear. "It's cute that you thought that was gonna work. Now what's goin' through you right now is about the equivalent to three needles, and considerin' you can barely handle even a little bit of torture, I don't think you want to test how far I can go with this. I don't wanna do that, so tell me to stop."
Oh great. They're playing chicken with torture implements. Isn't that just truly and utterly Cole? Sark winces and makes a soft whimpering noise, because it hurts like hell, but giving up means that Cole's attention wavers from him and he has to give Sydney a chance. He knew this was going to happen- it's why he did it.
Of course, what good's it going to do if his heart gives out? ...That might be karma though. Figures.
Cole's apparently incapable of stopping on his own and the realization that Sark isn't going to say anything crosses his face. "Julian? Tell me to stop."
Well, this has certainly got his attention away from Sydney.
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One wrist free. She lets out a breath and sets to work on the other one, and now that she's done the one the other comes easier, just a few more seconds and the other cuff pops off and she lunges out of the chair, straight for Cole.
She punches him. Hard as she can, all of her strength and weight and momentum behind it, and without much pause kicks his legs out from under him. And then kicks him again for good measure, just to keep him down a little longer.
"You know," she says, remarkably calmly under the circumstances, "I swore that the next stranger I met who acted like they knew me was going to get punched in the face. ...That felt really good."
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April is out of her cuffs in record time and ready to help with the inevitable demise of Cole.
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