Chapter One

Isabelle Bristow Vaughn had her father's eyes, but the likeness to her father ended there. She shared Sydney's full lips and strong jaw line. Her voice even sounded like her mother's. Michael doted on her constantly, forcing Sydney to portray the role of "bad cop" wherever Isabelle was concerned. The roles were reversed when it came to Jack, though his docile demeanor made the need for discipline less frequent.

Isabelle, however, was a different story. As she grew into a young woman her debates with her mother became more and more frequent and more and more heated. Michael found the "discussions" humorous, joking that Sydney had finally met her match. Isabelle's strength, fire and all-out stubbornness reminded him so much of Sydney. Sydney, on the other hand, was concerned with her daughter's brashness and temerity. It reminded her too much of her own mother. Though, Sydney was forced to admit, she and Irina may have encountered similar challenges had Irina been around during Sydney's college years.

They argued over everything and nothing, from Isabelle's wardrobe to her choice of college major. "Why, Is?" Sydney pleaded. "Why would you want to major in something like criminal justice?"

"I like it, okay? I like helping people. Besides, anything's better than teaching foreign languages, like you and Dad."

"Teachers have a very important job," Sydney defended. "Teachers help people too, you know."

"You like learning languages, don't you, honey?" Michael interjected, trying to smooth things over.

"Yes, Dad," Isabelle pouted, folding her arms over her chest.

"I remember your first day of kindergarten. You came home amazed that none of the other kindergarteners knew how to speak German." Michael chuckled, trying desperately to bring a smile to the faces of the two most important women in his life. Neither Isabelle nor Sydney cracked a smile. Damn, they were too much alike.

"Mom, I know you couldn't possibly understand this. But I want to do something important! I can't go through my whole life satisfied with mediocrity," Isabelle fought frantically for what she wanted.

"Then be a neurosurgeon, Is! You could be an incredible doctor…"

"No! Mom! I'm going to do this. I'm going to be a detective or investigator; do something important. I'm going to work for the CIA, maybe be a secret agent. But I've made up my mind. This is what I want to do."

Isabelle stormed out without so much as a goodbye to her parents. Michael gave her a brief wave as she pulled out of the driveway, no doubt in a hurry to return to the USC campus to vent to her friends about her overprotective parents. "You okay?" he asked softly, still gazing out the window at the spectacular sunset.

"Yeah," Sydney responded. "I wish I could tell her, Vaughn."

"Yeah, I know." He moved to his wife of nineteen years and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You can someday."

Aside from their occasional freelance work under their longtime friend Marcus Dixon, Sydney and Vaughn had given up their exciting secret agent work long ago. They had both settled for teaching positions at the University of California – Santa Barbara as foreign language professors. They had gone off the map as best they could and raised their two children as normally as they knew how.

Sydney had proven to be quite domestic, which surprised her husband. She seemed to never tire of being a wife and mother and it suited her. In fact, motherhood was the best alias she'd ever chosen for herself. She made a point to treasure every moment of Isabelle and Jack's childhoods, faithfully attending every dance recital and little league game. She was determined to give her own children a normal childhood…the kind of childhood she herself never had. She never looked back. This was exactly where she wanted to be.

"I guess I'm too protective of her," Sydney admitted quietly. "But I don't want that life for her. I don't want her to obsess over her work the way I did."

"Did? You still obsess over your work. It's just a different kind of work," Vaughn reminded her.

"Yeah but to put her life in danger…I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her."

"She's practically an adult now, Syd. It's time she makes her own decisions. Espionage is in her blood. You can't deny that."

"I know," Sydney heaved a sigh and ran her fingers through her silky, shoulder-length hair. "I just wish there was some way I could make her understand."

The shrill ring of her cell phone startled Sydney from her daze.

"Hello?"

"Syd, it's me." Dixon's voice was so reassuring to her, even after all these years.

"Director Dixon, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks. Syd, listen. I have an enormous favor to ask you."

"Oh, I can't this weekend, Dixon. Jack has a hockey game…"

"No, it's not you I need."

"Oh. Do you want to talk to Vaughn?"

"I don't need Vaughn, either. Not this time."

"Oh." Sydney braced herself on the arm of the sofa, fully aware of what Dixon was going to ask.

"Sydney, I have a mission for Isabelle…"