Challenge #26 "Blue Rodeo Songs"
Set during season 2's The Getaway. No spoilers beyond that.
"Piranha Pool"
Her lover used to tell Ariana Kane that the Alliance was just like a piranha pool. She laughed and replied that it was more like an Old Boy's Club. In reality, she believed both was true, but that's not something you tell to one of the Alliance partners, even when you're in bed with him and he bitches about his colleagues. She was fond of Jean Briault, but she didn't get sentimental about him, and that, Ariana thought, was the difference between her and the old boys in question.
She could deal with the piranha aspect. You didn't get to be head of Alliance Intelligence without having sharper teeth than anyone else. The boys club thing was far more annoying. It wasn't a coincidence that none of the partners was female. Here they were, arrived in the twentyfirst century, one of the most powerful organization of the world, and they still made the same old mistakes. She had been ruthless, and her personal integrity had never been compromised. When one of her early sponsors came under suspicion, she investigated him as thoroughly as anyone else, and executed himself herself when it turned out he had established unsanctioned ties with K Directorate. Yet Ariana Kane would never be considered for a partnership. As opposed to Arvin Sloane, who dithered endlessly about killing a woman who had cancer anyway, produced less than satisfying results in recent times, and had, Ariana was disgusted to discover when she was called in to investigate, a blind spot a mile wide regarding two agents under his supervision. And why all the fervent avowals of his trust in both Bristows? Because thirty years earlier, he and Jack Bristow used to play cards together, or something like that. Men.
There was something fishy about Jack Bristow, she knew that right from the start, and her instinct was never wrong. The more Sloane protested, the stronger her conviction became. It occured to her that this might be the opportunity to cut Arvin Sloane down to size as well, but that was secondary, even though she would enjoy it, given what had happened to Jean. Still, this wasn't about personal vendettas. This was about doing something against a breach of Alliance security, doing her job, at which she excelled. Not blinded by sentimentality, she could see the obvious course of action quite clearly: interrogate Bristow and bring his daughter in to be interrogated as well. Bristow didn't have Sloane's obvious sentimental streak, but he had betrayed himself with his statement that Sydney's recruitment was meant to have a hostage to ensure his loyalty during their second conversation. If the sodium penthetol didn't work, the girl just needed to be interrogated in front of him. Bristow would do anything to save her life.
When Sloane interrupted her interrogation after it had barely begun, Ariana assumed this was yet another case of ill-advised sentiment, the nail to his coffin. She believed this, shocked and angry, even as she herself was secured to the chair. It was only when Sloane, Bristow's arm around his neck as he helped his friend out of the room, turned around to look at her, that she realized. There was nothing outraged or protective in his gaze, and no element of surprise. There was only the icy, calm certaintity of an objective achieved.
He had played her. He had played her, and Bristow, and the entire Alliance. She didn't know why, but then, it wasn't important. Old boys might need a reason. Piranhas never did.
"Piranha Pool"
Her lover used to tell Ariana Kane that the Alliance was just like a piranha pool. She laughed and replied that it was more like an Old Boy's Club. In reality, she believed both was true, but that's not something you tell to one of the Alliance partners, even when you're in bed with him and he bitches about his colleagues. She was fond of Jean Briault, but she didn't get sentimental about him, and that, Ariana thought, was the difference between her and the old boys in question.
She could deal with the piranha aspect. You didn't get to be head of Alliance Intelligence without having sharper teeth than anyone else. The boys club thing was far more annoying. It wasn't a coincidence that none of the partners was female. Here they were, arrived in the twentyfirst century, one of the most powerful organization of the world, and they still made the same old mistakes. She had been ruthless, and her personal integrity had never been compromised. When one of her early sponsors came under suspicion, she investigated him as thoroughly as anyone else, and executed himself herself when it turned out he had established unsanctioned ties with K Directorate. Yet Ariana Kane would never be considered for a partnership. As opposed to Arvin Sloane, who dithered endlessly about killing a woman who had cancer anyway, produced less than satisfying results in recent times, and had, Ariana was disgusted to discover when she was called in to investigate, a blind spot a mile wide regarding two agents under his supervision. And why all the fervent avowals of his trust in both Bristows? Because thirty years earlier, he and Jack Bristow used to play cards together, or something like that. Men.
There was something fishy about Jack Bristow, she knew that right from the start, and her instinct was never wrong. The more Sloane protested, the stronger her conviction became. It occured to her that this might be the opportunity to cut Arvin Sloane down to size as well, but that was secondary, even though she would enjoy it, given what had happened to Jean. Still, this wasn't about personal vendettas. This was about doing something against a breach of Alliance security, doing her job, at which she excelled. Not blinded by sentimentality, she could see the obvious course of action quite clearly: interrogate Bristow and bring his daughter in to be interrogated as well. Bristow didn't have Sloane's obvious sentimental streak, but he had betrayed himself with his statement that Sydney's recruitment was meant to have a hostage to ensure his loyalty during their second conversation. If the sodium penthetol didn't work, the girl just needed to be interrogated in front of him. Bristow would do anything to save her life.
When Sloane interrupted her interrogation after it had barely begun, Ariana assumed this was yet another case of ill-advised sentiment, the nail to his coffin. She believed this, shocked and angry, even as she herself was secured to the chair. It was only when Sloane, Bristow's arm around his neck as he helped his friend out of the room, turned around to look at her, that she realized. There was nothing outraged or protective in his gaze, and no element of surprise. There was only the icy, calm certaintity of an objective achieved.
He had played her. He had played her, and Bristow, and the entire Alliance. She didn't know why, but then, it wasn't important. Old boys might need a reason. Piranhas never did.