ALIAS
– Virtuous/Vicious
Synopsis: Someone is murdering key undercover CIA
operatives, and when Sydney is revealed to be among the targets, Jack
reaches out to a mercurial former associate – one who also happens to
be the agency’s prime suspect.
for graphic violence,
language, strong sexual content, and mature themes.
PREVIEW:
As
soon as his key hit the lock of his apartment door, Jack knew.
Someone was here, concealed in the dark. He could almost feel the
intruder's presence, translated into a low, deep tremor in his belly.
It was one of those instinctual sensations that he'd learned to
trust long ago. Trouble was, sharp as his instincts were, it was
still pitch black in the apartment, and no matter what he felt, it
wouldn't help him see anything.
He
smoothed the wallpaper with one hand, slowly discovering and silently
flipping a lightswitch. It gave him no light, and less
comfort. The tremor began to rise, and as it did, Jack found the
textured grip on his pistol with his opposite hand and tugged, freeing
the weapon from its shoulder holster. Then he pressed his back
against the wall, and crept along, keeping himself flat against it, the
pistol pointed toward the ceiling and away from his
body.
Then
a far lamp snapped to life, and within an instant, Jack was face to
face with a man he’d known once upon a time. One he'd gone with
on journeys to hell and back. And now, that fellow was sitting on
a folding chair,
aiming a .40-caliber Sig Sauer pistol squarely at Jack’s eyes, and
letting
a small smirk play on his lips. Jack's face was much
grimmer, but his aim was a mirror.
"Hey
there, Agent Bristow. You’re a good ten minutes late," the
man said.
Jack
solidified his grip. "An ambush? I expected something more
elaborate."
"Ambush?" His
voice was a parody of indignance. "I would never ambush you.
That's too easy. I'm just dropping in for a friendly hello."
"So you broke into my apartment and
are pointing a gun at me because you happened to be in the
neighborhood."
The man shook his head. "Well,
you were looking for me, right?" And then, as if to
interrupt Jack's next thought, he added, "Wendell told me."
Jack frowned
harder. "Another should-be dead man still out in the
world."
"Roaming
souls, forever living and forever damned." His eyes danced a
bit. "He asked me to say
hi from him. I still haven't decided if I'm going to."
Jack snorted.
"Cut the shit."
"Always liked that
about you, Jack. Straight shooter." The man leaned forward
a bit. "Wendell says the reason you're looking for me has to do
with some dead NOCs. Certainly hope you don't think I was
involved."
Jack's eyes
were slits. "The killer or killers were sneaky bastards who
infiltrated covert ops, blew them up from the inside, then walked away
like nothing happened. That's your particular modus operandi, if I haven't
forgotten."
"Ouch," the man replied. "That
was a bit personal. No friend's discount for
you."
Jack's jaw tightened. "We were never friends."
"Double ouch." The smirk became a grin.
"Al
Maxwell was my friend. You are not him."
"Yes, I am, Jack. You can say I'm not from now until
doomsday. It's just that I also happen to be Special Agent Don
Wheeler of the FBI, or Deputy U.S. Marshal Scott Trenton, or – well,
whoever
else I’m told to be. Not much different from you."
Jack's eyes narrowed, and his fingertip found the trigger on his
Beretta. "Listen, Maxwell - or whoever the hell you are today -
I’m fresh out of
patience for your preferred brand of smirking malice bullshit."
Al
tilted his head a bit. His grin, like the muzzle of his
piece, was stable. "You haven’t forgotten, have you, Jack?
Threats generally don’t work with me. When you’re among the
walking dead, they tend to
roll right off you. So let's put the guns down, and you can tell
me why you've really gone
through the effort to find me."
"You know
about the NOCs," Jack said.
"Sure, Jack,"
Al replied. "But that's not the real
reason, is it?"
back to top
back to The To-Do List
All content (except where
noted) copyrighted 2000-2003, by The Beaumont Group.