She hadn't wanted to go. Sydney shouldn't have been here, in Tirana, at this stuffy cocktail party trying to hide her grief from Dixon. However, Vaughn had made it very clear to her that, as far as SD-6 was concerned, Will Tippin could not be dead yet. Rumors of the safehouse fire had spread throughout the intelligence community, and Will's coincidental death at the same time would have been suspicious. Might have blown her cover. Vaughn had explained all of this softly, told her she could call him any time, but that Will's death had to remain a secret for now. Let her have one more good cry before she left the warehouse — went out into the world where Will Tippin was still "alive."

The safe was a simple model — she had seen one just like it last year in Paris. Marshall already had a gadget for it — a rather attractive brooch, she had to admit.

This part had become routine for her, and she pulled the leather pouch out, CIA camera in hand and ready.

But when she slid the document from the cracked leather, her reality shifted. Will Tippin's innocent eyes came into view as she unrolled the parchment His face, from the angular cheekbones to the unruly curls, was clearly detailed on Rambaldi's document.