Chapter 21: A Momentary ReLapse of Reason

Present Time

London

Jack

He threw his body against the door again as he screamed out, "Let me out of here!"

Not too long ago he'd woken up inside a locked room with only a door, no windows, and a camera in the corner above the door. He had no idea where he was or who he was. What happened to him? Why was he there? Who had him?

All those questions raced through his head along with "who was he", but the questions paled in comparison to the sudden anger he felt and the urge to escape. He wanted out. He also needed a fix. His body was aching, his hands trembling, and he felt like he was freezing as he started to sweat. His arms itched and his nails dug into his skin on his arms once he undressed down to only his pants. He was cold but on fire at the same time.

It felt like he was going to burst into flames while freezing to death. He threw his body into the door again as he tried to break it down. "Let me out!" he screamed again.

Finally a voice answered him beyond the door. A woman's voice told him, "I'm sorry, Jack, but I can't do that. You're relapsing and-"

He hit the door, cutting her off and then stared up at the camera. She was watching him; he could feel her eyes through the lens. "Who are you?"

"Rachel," she told him. "I know this is confusing to you right now, but this is for your own good."

"She's lying." He looked over his shoulder and saw a man sitting on the bed. The man appeared to be a junkie and he felt the urge to join him as he said, "Ar' you goin' bang up? You need ta get out of here an' get another fix."

"Who are you?" he asked.

A woman appeared next to him; whispering to him, she said, "He's Em, I'm Kay. Are you trapped in here?"

Jack shook his head as he stared back at the door. His head was buzzing, it hurt, as he fought down the urge to hit the door again. "Em. Kay." he repeated as he looked up at the camera. That meant something. He remembered. "Em, Kay...You're not here. You're not real."

He shut his eyes when he opened them, they were gone.


Rachel

She minimized the camera feed from the next room as she brought up a web browser. Searching the letters "M" and "K" along with the word "hallucination". There were several websites that popped up dealing with hallucinations and drug use but only one that contained the letters "M" and "K". Picking up the phone, she made a call.

After a couple of rings, she heard him answer. "Rachel, hang on a sec-" Tom said before there was silence. A few seconds later, he came back on the line. "Okay, we can talk now. What's up?"

She looked at the camera feed and saw Jack pacing around the room as he started to ramble to himself. "Jack had a relapse. He's having hallucinations and mentioned something about "M" and "K". I found a website about a CIA project known as MK-Ultra-"

"MK-Ultra? Wasn't that a CIA program having to do with LSD and mind control...Wait, you don't think-"

"It makes sense. His amnesia and the drug addiction. He's talking, Tom. A lot."

"What'd you mean he's talking?"

"While he's in this state he's been rambling nonsense but I don't think it's nonsense, like the "MK" reference. The mindless ramblings are his way of making connections to his time in captivity. I'm recording the video feed so we can go over it once I trigger his memories to return." Rachel continued to watch Jack rambling and pace around the room as she said, "I know what causes the relapse. It's Sydney."

Tom was silent a moment before asking, "Her name or-"

"Her name. A thought about her. I suggested to him that we contact her to warn her and that's when he went unconscious. I got him to the room before he woke up but...He didn't know who she was."

"Warn her about what?" Tom asked.

Rachel took a breath and filled Tom in on what she referred to as "the ticking clock of doom" and what Jack suspected.

Once she was done, Tom told her, "Adding a deadline to this mess wasn't what I was expecting. We have five days to figure this out-Hey, I might have found another clue that could help us."

"What is it?"

"I'll explain later. Be careful."

She smiled into the phone as she said, "You too."


Tom

He snapped the cell phone shut as he closed the notebook that belonged to CIA agent Michael Vaughn. He was in the hotel room Vaughn had checked into after he arrived in London using the hotel key that Will had left for him in a locker at a train station. Will had gotten the hotel keycard from Vaughn's wallet after he'd been shot.

Currently Will, Vaughn, and a woman named Renée were held up at a CIA safehouse. Tom put the notebooks and files back into the carryon and repacked it with the toiletry bag that had been in the bathroom and the few clothing items that were hung up in the closet. After checking all the cabinets and drawers, he shouldered the bag and left the hotel room.

Getting to his rental car that was parked outside the hotel, he threw in the bags and then got into the driver's seat. Next stop was the address he'd been texted by Will with only one line telling him what his objective was once he got to the address. He had to check the 2000 BMW parked on the street for any tracking device.

As he went to start the car he noticed a glint of light through the windshield. It was coming from the rooftop across from the hotel. He sat and waited and saw the reflection of light again before it was gone. He could have been wrong, but he thought it could have been the streetlight reflecting off the scope of a rifle.

Getting out of the car, he headed into the building.


Will

Waiting was never his strong suit. He watched as Renée disassembled her guns, cleaned them, and then reassembled them as he paced over the floor. He couldn't get himself to focus and at the moment he didn't even know what to focus on or what to do. He didn't trust the woman sitting across the room at the kitchen table who currently had more weapons and ammunition than he did. He really hoped Renée didn't turn out to be a bad guy because he was certain she would be able to kill him before he could kill her.

He shouldn't have been thinking about killing anyone but the last two years hadn't exactly been peaceful. In fact it had been the opposite. It'd been war from the get-go. War with Sloane, war with Sark, and war with himself. He'd been struggling lately to keep himself calm and focused. Meditating like Jack had showed him to control his anger and to steady his head. At least his depression seemed to have been pushed to the wayside for now. Adrenaline and gunfire would do that.

Now he was waiting. Waiting for a phone call from Tom. Waiting for Sydney. Waiting for Vaughn to wake up. Waiting for Renée to either shoot him or yell at him some more. She had questions and he had answers but he wasn't willing to tell her everything just yet. He would tell Sydney first and then they would deal with Renée together.

"You should sleep. It's a long flight from Los Angeles to London. It'll be at least a day."

"I'm not tired," he said as he looked over at her. "And as long as you're awake, I'm not shutting my eyes."

"You don't trust me?" Renée asked before inserting a magazine into her gun and racking the slide back. "Here." She held out the gun for him to take. "Take it if you don't trust me."

Will sighed and shook his head. He was being paranoid again. "I'm sorry. I do trust you."

She didn't look too convinced but she placed the gun on the table and went back to assemble the second gun. "Is he dead?"

"Who? Desantis?"

"Did you kill him?"

Will sat down on the couch as he pulled out his own gun and leaned back into the cushions. He was tired, but he wasn't about to fall asleep with Renée still awake. "No, I didn't kill him. Jack didn't kill him either."

"But he is dead."

He looked over at her and told her, "He killed himself."

"Where? When?"

So many questions. Will rubbed his head as he thought back to that day as he told her, "Germany. Last year."


December 2002

Hamburg, Germany

He looked up into the bathroom mirror and saw Jack watching him. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, as he looked him over. Wiping his hands on the towel, he turned around as he said, "I used to love that look." Jack frowned slightly but didn't say anything. Tossing the towel toward the bag on the floor, he stepped up to him as he said, "I never used to doubt whether or not you trusted me, Jack. I never used to have to wonder if I trusted myself. I can't help but think that every time you look at me you're seeing someone else. You're seeing-"

"Stop it," Jack said, cutting him off. He dropped his arms as he took his face in his hands and kissed him. Resting his head on his, and looking right into his eyes, he told him, "I'm not seeing anyone but you." He moved his hands to his shoulders as he told him, "Turn around."

He sighed and did as he was told as he turned in his arms and rested his back against Jack's chest as he looked at himself in the mirror. Jack was also looking at him in the mirror as he wrapped his arms around him.

"You know what I see?"

"Yeah, the man you fell for in Los Angeles. The reporter."

"I see that man," Jack said but then he continued, "I also see you. The mistakes of the man you once were, the man you're struggling to understand now, and the man you can be in the future. Will, you are the man I love and that's what I will always see. With all your doubts...are you doubting that?"

"No," he quickly said and that was the truth. He never doubted Jack's love for him.

Jack studied him for a moment and then asked, "Are you doubting how you feel-"

"No," he said again and meant it. He turned back around as he told him, "It's me. It's everything in my head. I can't think clearly."

"We finish this and then we'll take that break and regroup. Okay?"

He nodded as he let out a breath. "Yeah, okay."

Jack pulled out a set of keys and handed them to him. "Go bring the car around back."

He took the keys and pocketed them as Jack gave him another kiss and then left the bathroom. He turned back around and looked at himself in the mirror and at the eyes looking back at him and wondered how Jack could see him so clearly when all he saw was a man he didn't recognize. He packed his bag and took it with him as he headed out of the building where they had holed up for the day as they waited for nightfall.

Running across the street, he fumbled with the keys as he neared the car that he nearly dropped them. Snow flurries stuck to his hands and started to cover him as he got the car door open. He slung his bag inside and once the door was closed he started to engine and turned on the heat. Jack would meet him at the backdoor with Marcus Bernard who they have come to find out was actually a man named Desantis. Aldo Desantis.

Going around to the back of the building, he saw Jack and Desantis in the doorway. Desantis's hands were behind his back, cuffed, and Jack pulled him by the arm to the car. He shoved Desantis into the backseat and got in beside him as he held a gun to his side. Will didn't think Desantis was stupid enough to try to make a break for it but they couldn't be too careful.

He was guided through the streets and to a building that sold jewelry. "The bunker is under the store," Desantis told them as he parked the car across the street.

Jack glanced at him through the rearview mirror and gave a nod. They were going in. "Any other way inside other than through the front door," he asked once he had Desantis out of the car.

Desantis gestured with a jerk of his head to the side street that ran along the side of the building. "Through there."

He led the way as Desantis and Jack followed. His hand clutched the gun that was in his pocket the entire time and was surprised that they were able to enter the building and got into the underground fallout shelter fairly easily from a hidden entrance through the basement of the building.

"That was easy," he said once they reached the door.

"Too easy," Jack said as he pulled Desantis to a stop. "Wait, Will." He pushed Desantis against the wall and told him, "Watch him."

Pulling out his gun, he aimed it at Desantis as Jack checked the door. He watched as he pulled something from his pocket and sprayed it around the door. Once satisfied, he put his gun away and pulled out his lock-picking kit. Less than a minute later and Jack had the door open but still didn't walk into the room until he checked the perimeter.

Jack pulled his gun once again and did a sweep of the room before calling out to him, "Clear."

Grabbing Desantis by the collar, he shoved him into the room and closed the door. Jack was already looking over the tables and walls. They were covered with mathematical formulas and equations. Codes and ciphers.

Jack picked up a notebook and flipped through it as he said, "This is all your work?"

"Not my work. Michaux."

"You said you had proof that he was a mole within Prophet Five," he said as he took out his camera and started taking pictures of the equations and codes that to him made no sense. "That he had an outside contact; a man named Lehman."

Desantis looked at the computer in the room and said, "I broke his password and read his encrypted emails."

Jack turned on the computer and waited for it to boot-up as asked, "What was the pass-"

At hearing Jack's voice cut off, he turned around and saw him looking at the computer in confusion. He was about to speak when Jack turned, grabbed him, and threw them both to the floor behind the desk the moment the room exploded.

Everything went silent after the deafening blow as he felt the room shake. Heat from flames touched his face and legs but Jack was on top of him blocking the heat from touching the rest of his body. Then a fog settled over him as he drifted in and out of consciousness until his lungs started to burn. Coughing into the black smoke that swirled around his head, he blinked up into a haze of smoke and fire and felt a pain in his left arm. He coughed out another painful breath of air out of his lungs as the weight of Jack's body didn't move off him.

"Jack?" he asked before shifting to get up. "Jack?!" He tried to use his left arm to push up and felt an intense wave of pain shot up his arm as he tried to put weight on it. He screamed out in pain and grabbed his arm and realized by the odd angle that it was broken.

Grabbing Jack with his right arm and hooking his legs around him, he rolled them until Jack was on the floor and he looked down at him and saw his eyes closed. There was no obvious injury to his head, no bleeding that he could see until he looked at his leg. There was a piece of metal, shrapnel from the debris, sticking into his thigh. "Oh...fuck. Jack?" He quickly checked for a pulse and found one and felt himself relax but only slightly as he looked around.

Across the room, and in the wall, he saw the remains of Aldo Desantis. The son-of-a-bitch blew himself up and tried to take them along with him. He pulled Jack's arm across his shoulders as he tried to lift him up.

He heard Jack moan into his ear and he smiled as he saw him open his eyes. "Hey, you okay? Come on, we have to get out of here," he said as he grabbed the camera that was on the floor and shoved it into his coat pocket.

Jack blinked at him but seemed to understand what he was saying as he tried to stand. He let out a scream when he put his weight on the injured leg.

"There's metal, a piece of shrapnel in your right leg," he told him as Jack collapsed back to the floor.

Reaching down, Jack grabbed the metal piece in his hand and pulled it out with a groan.

"Was that a good idea?" he asked as he saw the blood start to gush from Jack's leg.

Jack didn't say anything as he undid his tie and pulled it off from around his neck. He tied it around his leg, covering the wound, and then grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled himself up. It was a struggle to keep Jack steady but he managed to help him limp along as they hurried out of the building. Once outside he could hear sirens in the distance as people who lived nearby started to gather out on the street.

Will got them to the car as several onlookers spotted them and started pointing. Luckily it was dark with little light where he'd parked the car. He got Jack into the passenger seat before climbing into the driver's seat and took off as the sirens got closer.


Present Time

London

Will stared at the gun in his hand and felt how natural it had become to hold it. To rely on it. Two years ago he would have sworn off guns or any weapon and said that he wasn't a believer in them. He would have written an article about how to save the world in a very peaceful way.

Now, all that was gone. Peaceful resolutions were an illusion. The only way to save the world was to do it violently because the people that threatened to destroy it were doing so violently. A year ago he was terrified of himself. Scared of the man he saw in the mirror because that man was no longer the Will Tippin he had believed himself to be.

Now, he knew the man he was. He knew his name, knew his face, his thoughts, and knew what he felt and believed. He had to trust himself. And trust Jack. Jack's mind was in chaos the same way his mind had been. Jack had his life taken from him and his memories ripped away.

Jack had been there for him when he was at his lowest. When he was questioning not only his own mind but his life. Jack saw him through it; had helped him. Believed in him. And once this was figured out, once they knew exactly what they were dealing with, he would help Jack through it. He would believe in him. He would continue to love him.

He heard a noise in the hallway and looked over his shoulder and saw Vaughn walking into the living room. Getting up, he walked over to him as he put the gun away and said, "You should be in bed."

Vaughn reached up and rubbed his shoulder as he said, "I feel fine."

Will walked around to his back and checked his bandage and the wound. He saw little drainage on the bandage and when he pulled it away he stilled at what he saw.

"What?" he asked. "Will, what is it?"

Blinking up at him, he shook his head as he said, "You should um, take a look."

Vaughn frowned at him as he turned and walked to the bathroom with him right behind him. He flicked on the light and turned to look at the gunshot wound. The wound was nearly closed, the stitches were no longer necessary, and there was barely any bruising. He looked at the bandage he had removed and then at him in disbelief. "Will, this is…"

"A miracle?" he said.

"I was going to say impossible." Vaughn dropped the bandage into the trash as he rubbed his shoulder. "No one heals this quickly."

"Has this happened before?"

He shook his head as he rubbed a hand through his hair. "I've had injuries that never seemed to last. A twisted ankle that felt better in less than a day. A cut that scabbed over and scarred within hours. But no, I've never been shot and this-" Vaughn swallowed hard as he stared at him.

Will could see the uncertainty and fear in his eyes. "I think we need to talk."

Vaughn gave a nod and turned off the light as they left the bathroom. He went into the bedroom and pulled on his shirt. "I don't want Renée to know," he told him.

He agreed. They went back into the living room and Vaughn went to the kitchen and got a glass of water as Renée watched the two of them.

"What is going on?" she asked as she got up. "You both look like you've seen a ghost."

"We're just tired," Will said as he looked at Vaughn.

He finished the water and told Renée, "Take the bed and get some rest. I need to call my boss and brief him on what's going on and I would like some privacy. Will-"

"I'll step outside and check the perimeter," he told him as he pulled out his gun.

Renée went up to Vaughn and said something soft and in French before walking toward the hallway. As she passed him, she intentionally shoved him a little and kept walking, leaving them alone in the living room. Will heard the bedroom door close and looked over at Vaughn who sat at the kitchen table.

"What's her problem?"

"Apparently you are," Vaughn told him as he picked up one of Renée's guns and checked it before setting it down. "She doesn't trust you."

"Ditto. She's not exactly high on my list of trusted allies either." He sat across from him and waited from him to speak. The way he was talking in the bathroom, he knew that Vaughn might have some idea as to why his body healed at a faster rate than normal.

Vaughn rubbed his face as he told him, "I was born André Michaux. My father was a genius, Will, a mathematician. He was working on the Prophet Five Project with other scientists. One day we were a happy family and then one night we weren't. I was five when I had to hide in the back of my parents car with my mother as my father got us out of France. Our names were changed and we were in America a week later. Nearly two years after that, my father, who had become a CIA agent, was killed. At least that was what we were told. It's what the CIA believed. They don't tell you how an agent is killed. I don't know if there was even a body. And now we have reason to believe that my father is still alive."

"And you don't know why?"

"If I knew why I wouldn't have been shocked now would I?" he snapped at him and then rubbed his head as he sat back in the chair. "Sorry."

He held up his hands and smiled at him as he said, "Don't worry about it." Will tried to piece it together with what he knew about Prophet Five and all it caused was his head to hurt. He didn't have enough information.

"What about you?"

He looked at Vaughn as he said, "What about me?"

Vaughn wasn't a man to give too much away with a look, much like Jack, but he could read the look on his face loud and clear: he wasn't buying it. "Cut the crap, Will. You're different and it's not due to the two years that you've been running around the world with Jack Bristow. I told you the truth about who I was-"

"I didn't ask for you to divulge anything to me-"

"That doesn't negate the fact that I did and that I expect the same courtesy-"

"Courtesy?"

"It's only fair."

He stared at him in confusion as he said, "Fair? Is it my imagination or did you ask me not to tell Sydney that you had been shot? She's your girlfriend and you wanted me to keep that a secret. Where was your sense of courtesy and fairness-"

"Well now you don't have to worry about it."

"Oh, so because you're some freak of nature you think I-" he stopped when a phone rang. It was his phone. Will pulled the cell out of his pocket and answered it. "This is Tippin."

"You're never going to believe this," Tom said into his ear. He sounded out of breath. "I found your sniper. It was Julian Sark."

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I'm outside. What a day, huh? Buzz me in so I can tell you all about it."

Will got up and went to the window and pulled the blind back. Down on the sidewalk and standing in the snow was Thomas Grace. He gave him a wave and then hung up on him. He buzzed him into the building and waited for him to knock before unlocking the door and letting him in.

Tom walked in pulling a suitcase and carrying a bag over his left shoulder and a rifle over his right. His nose was bleeding and his mouth was split open. Vaughn spotted him and the bags as he got up from the chair with a gun in hand. He sat the suitcase against the wall and slung the carry-on bag off his shoulder and tossed it onto the table in front of Vaughn.

"Merry fucking Christmas," Tom said to Vaughn as he walked by him to the kitchen. "Got any alcohol in this place."

"There's a bottle of bourbon-"

"Found it," Tom called from the kitchen. He walked out a couple of seconds later pouring some into a tall glass and then took a drink.

Holding the bottle out to him, Will waved it off as he asked, "Sark attacked you?"

Tom offered the bottle to Vaughn who also waved it off. He shrugged and poured more into the glass before telling Vaughn, "I'm Tom, by the way." He took a drink and then looked at him and said, "To answer your question, no, Sark didn't attack me. I got the jump on him as he was scoping out the hotel." He wiped the blood off his face and then took another drink of the bourbon "He sucker-punched his way out from getting thrown off a roof. He may have gotten away, but I got his weapon," he said as he pulled ther rifle off his shoulder and leaned it against the wall. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Leaning back, he threw his feet up on the table as he raised a glass to him before saying, "Rachel called. We're on a time table. An event is scheduled for five days from now. Christmas Eve at midnight, so actually Christmas Day. She also thinks Jack's been subjected to some old CIA experimental mind control program called MK Ultra. He's hallucinating and rambling like a madman about dragons and phoenixes. He'll be alright."

Will stared over at Tom as he said, "That doesn't sound like he'll be alright."

"He figured out how to re-wire his own memories in order to trigger them with music. I mean, he manipulated his own brain for fuck's sake. He's literally hallucinating the answers to what happened to him and why. I think he'll be fine," Tom reassured him as he dropped his feet to the floor and stood. "I'm assuming the bathroom's down the hall."

He watched as Tom disappeared down the hallway and turned to Vaughn who was going through the carry-on bag. "That was Tom."

"I heard. He's a little rough around the edges," Vaughn said as he pulled out notebooks and a couple of file folders and sat them on the table. "Where'd you find him?"

"He found us actually. Ex-Special Forces. Rough is an understatement. I'm surprised he didn't wake up Renée."

They both looked at one another and then looked toward the hallway expecting something to happen. A scream or gunfire. When nothing happened, Will went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He wasn't going to get any sleep anytime soon.

"Five days," Vaughn said as he shook his head. "I have to call Dixon and fill him in on everything."

Will reached into his pocket and pulled out Vaughn's cell phone and handed it over to him. "I already told him you were shot and he's sending Sydney here."

Vaughn took the cell from him as he gave him a look. "You called them?"

"Of course," he said as he sat back down.

Vaughn excused himself into the kitchen to call Dixon as he heard Tom reenter the room asking, "Who's the chick asleep in the bedroom?"

"That would be Renée. I told you about her," Will answered as he picked up a notebook and flipped it open and started reading it over.

"Right. Forgot," Tom said as he grabbed the rifle and took it with him over to the couch and sat down.

He watched him for a moment before asking Tom, "Should you be handling a weapon after drinking?"

Tom didn't answer him as he released the magazine and then racked it back, ejecting the round from the chamber. He looked over at him then and said, "I emptied it," before going back to fiddling with it and checking the sights.

"What about my car?" he asked Tom. "Did you find anything?"

"Nope," Tom answered without looking at him as he fiddled with the knobs as he adjusted the sights on the rifle.

"Then how did Sark find us at Renée's apartment?" he asked as he looked over at Vaughn as he walked back over to the table.

Vaughn tossed the cell down and said, "He could have followed her from the bar she worked at."

"Or she's working with him."

Looking at him, Vaughn told him, "If she was working with Sark he wouldn't have been at the hotel. He would have been here."

That made sense, he figured. Will still didn't trust Renée but at the moment he had no other reason to suspect her as a working for Sark or Prophet Five. "What is she to you?"

Vaughn sighed as he sat down and picked up a file. "We were childhood friends."

"And now?"

Vaughn stared at him as he stressed to him, "She's still a friend. More than that, actually. She's like a sister to me and I would ask for you to treat her as such."

Will looked him over as he said, "A sister? So you two aren't-"

"No, we're not. I'm in love with Sydney."

"And? You remember Charlie and how he swore he loved Francie but was cheating-"

"Men aren't my type," Renée said as she entered the living room and glanced at Tom. "You all talk too loud."

He watched as she went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Leaning back in the chair he asked Vaughn, "Why didn't you just say she was a lesbian?"

"Because it's none of your business," Vaughn said as he stood and went to get himself a cup of coffee.

"It would have cleared you very quickly of my suspicions," he said as he went back to reading the notebook in his hands.

Renée walked out of the kitchen and pushed his head as she walked by.

"Why?" he snapped back as he glared at her.

She shrugged as she sat next to Tom and looked at the rifle in his hands. "You deserve it. Plus, it makes me happy."

Will glared at her before going back to reading. She was such a bitch, but he did like her. He got to the end of the page and frowned at what he read as he said out loud, "What does this mean that the Horizon only can be paired with a Phoenix?"

"I don't know," Vaughn said as he sat back down at the table. He took a sip of the coffee before saying, "All I know about Horizon is that it's the key to everything. It unlocks the formula or it is the formula."

He stared at Vaughn for a long moment and before saying, "Sydney is the Phoenix, or at least a Phoenix if there can be more than one. So, if Phoenix is a person then maybe Horizon is also a person?"

"If that's the case then who is it? It says that Horizon has to be protected at all costs."

"Protected...As in put into hiding?" he asked as he looked at Vaughn, aka André Michaux, and then at Renée. "You two are the children of the Prophet Five members who were personally responsible for figuring out the code. Figuring out that it was about genetics and DNA sequencing." He thought about Vaughn's gunshot wound that healed much faster than humanly possible.

Vaughn was staring at him as he said, "You think one of us is the Horizon?"

He sat the notebook down as he said, "I think you're a freak of nature. What if your father tested on you?"

"My father wouldn't have done that."

"How do you know?" he asked. "If I've learned anything from Jack is that people, even fathers, are capable of anything, even testing on their own children. He tested on Sydney with Project Christmas-"

"So you think my father tested on me with Project Prophet Five?" Vaughn asked but he no longer was defensive. He was starting to wonder if it was the truth. "On Renée?"

"One or both, I don't know. But right now I think we have to consider it a possibility."

Vaughn let out a breath as he looked over at Renée who was talking with Tom about the rifle. They had intentionally kept their voices down so they weren't overheard.

Will stood and went and finally got himself a cup of coffee. He watched Vaughn as he poured himself a cup and wondered how they could protect him and kept him safe. He had no way of knowing what Prophet Five knew and whether or not they suspected Horizon was a person. As long as they could keep that a secret then they had a chance.


Jack

Hours later and Jack was once again back to being relatively normal. He didn't remember anything about what happened in the room and what he hallucinated but Rachel had recorded it all for him so he could review it. She had gone off to bed, leaving him alone as he poured over the video feed. He also read over her own notes about MK Ultra and smiled at how accurate it all was and why he hadn't realized it sooner. What happened to him wasn't exactly the methods the CIA used but it was close enough to where there was a similarity. Taking that into consideration he knew that he could regain all his memories and work it out whatever it was that they, meaning Sloane, had programmed into his head.

He wrote down more notes along with Rachel's which included his ramblings about dragons and the phoenix. Dragon had been his codename decades ago when he was working as an assassin for the CIA, but for some reason he didn't think that was entirely what it meant. For starters, he also kept mumbling different colors he was seeing along with the dragon. Blue and black in particular. If his disassociation and his ramblings were really him trying to make sense of what he knew, what he had learned while being a captive that he couldn't remember now, then everything he said had importance.

It was uncomfortable watching himself in such a vulnerable state and his obvious break from reality as he wanted to desperately shoot up. This was what Sloane had wanted. He wanted him to appear as some crazy junkie spouting nonsense and discrediting himself. It would have worked too if it hadn't been for Tom and Rachel rescuing him. He owed them everything.

Looking at the clock, he realized he'd been replaying the video feed over-and-over for the past two hours. He really needed to get some sleep. The sun would be coming up shortly and he hadn't slept at all; not since that night in the abandoned building. He rubbed his eyes and stared over at the names on the wall that could be the aliases of Arvin Sloane.

What if one of the names was an anagram? That felt like deja vu; it was something he'd thought of before. Jack picked up a pen and started working on the names as he rearranged the letters. The second name, Anneal Visor, was quickly reworked into Arvin Sloane. Could it really be that obvious?

He remembered how Tom had told him that he had gone out to check on the aliases when he had disappeared. Maybe Sloane wanted it that obvious so he could be easily found. Sloane knew how to trigger him and he would want him to be triggered. This time he wouldn't make the same mistake. He wouldn't go alone.

Pulling up a web browser he researched the name Anneal Visor and found that he was the CEO of a company called OMNIFAM. The headquarters was located in London. Jack wrote down the address and went to wake Rachel as he grabbed his cell to call Tom. It was time to make their move against Sloane.

TBC...