B) The storyline runs that Irina (alias Laura) left Sydney when six. She didn't see her again for 20 years. Did Irina ever think of Sydney during those years. What was she doing? Who had she become?


MOMENTS IN TIME
AN ALIAS PREQUEL

PROLOGUE

Jack stood in his office, looking at Sydney. His heart beat faster than it had in a long time. Sitting at her desk, Sydney, bent over her computer, looked so much like Laura…no, it was Irina, her mother that it was like seeing a ghost. He had not been happy when Arvin told him he had recruited his daughter. He had been shocked when he saw her that day, a few months ago. He had hoped to recruit her to the CIA, now things had changed. He sighed. He wished he had been more of a father to her while she was growing up. Now he was paying the penalty of not being close to her.
Sydney was twenty-one and was completing her training as an agent for SD-6. She’d be going out on assignments soon. She was good, damn good, as all reports indicated. Arvin was pleased. He treated her like his own daughter. Emily, his wife, was unable to conceive, so they both doted on Sydney. And Sydney seemed to feel more at home with the Sloanes than with him.
He studied her more closely. His mind drifted back to the day he had first met Laura, nearly – what was it – twenty-four years ago? It was at the mailboxes of the apartments. She had just moved into the complex. She was teaching at the small college in town. English Literature, she said. Four months later they were married. Ten years he’d had with her before Laura disappeared, supposedly killed in an auto accident. They never found her body. Then the terrible truth, she had been a Russian spy and assassin. He swallowed. He looked away from his daughter not wanting to remember Laura anymore.
He wondered if she remembered Sydney or – him. For that matter he wondered if Laura, or Irina, was still alive.

MOMENTS IN TIME
Part 1 – Prison – Mazafarabad - 1982

Irina sat on her bunk in the dark. Night had come and with it a measure of relief. She was angry. She had been interrogated for eight hours. Her mind and her body were exhausted. They were stupid, those men. She had told them over and over why she had returned to her rodina, her motherland. Still they thought she was lying. She felt sick to her stomach. The heat was a b---h. Her body smelled and they only allowed one shower a week. If she ever got out of here, she’d make someone pay.
She tried to focus. How long had it been? There was never a calendar and they had taken her watch away. Was it three or four months? She sighed and looked out the high window with bars on it. She could see the night sky and the stars, but little else.
She heard the cell block doors open, then close. She glanced to her left. The American wasn’t in his cell. The inner door to the cellblock opened and two guards entered, dragging a man between them. They opened the cell door and threw him inside. She said nothing. She kept very still. She did not want them to even think about her being there.
The two laughed, “He’s tough,” said one.
“They’ll break him, don’t you worry,” said the other.
The two left without glancing in her direction.

Irina waited until she heard the cellblock doors close before moving off her bunk. She crept to the bars that separated her cell from the American’s. “Hey, Gringo, you o.k.?” The two had made a pact when he arrived. She would be Russkie to him and he, Gringo. If they didn’t know each other’s name, there would be less trouble from guards or interrogators.

He was on the dirt floor of the cell. He moaned. “Yeah, all right.” He closed his eyes and seemed to be gathering strength. He pulled himself up into his bunk, gratefully lying down. He had been beaten again and it seemed to get worse every day. He looked over toward Russkie who watched him. “How did it go with you today, kid?”

She grinned to herself. She was thirty-three and he talked to her like she was a teen-ager. He’d told her he was ten years older. He was an American spy and they had brought him here for interrogation. “Not bad,” she answered. “I didn’t deviate from my story.”

“Don’t ever give in,” he said.

She nodded. She sat back on her bunk, closing her eyes, trying to make her surroundings go away. She drifted into a semi-conscious state and in a moment she saw her daughter, Sydney. It must be after Christmas by now…She wondered if Jack had found the gifts she had bought for them to give her. She bit her lip, opened her eyes and stared out the bars in front of her. Strange she should think of Christmas. It was never a holiday she’d celebrated as a child. Of course, it was an important one in the Western World. When she married Jack, she had to know what it was about. At least they had taught them about western holidays when they trained her for the assignment.

Irina wondered if Jack had even celebrated the holiday with Sydney. It might be hard, especially under the circumstances. Sydney! How she missed her that bubbly little 6-year old. A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. Her head slumped forward, as she rubbed it away with her hand. If she hadn’t run, it would’ve been terrible for both Sydney and Jack. It most certainly would have meant prison or worse for her.

She took a deep breath, compartmentalizing, putting Sydney and Jack away for the moment.

What was Irina doing those missing years? Here's a couple of more ideas. B)


Part 2 – Central City, Russia – 1983

It was 6:00 a.m. and Irina was taking her usual morning run. Spring was almost here. She glanced at her watch. April 17th! The date was familiar, but for the moment she couldn’t resurrect the connection. She looked ahead of her. Captain Viktoria Zaitzen was plodding along as usual. Irina smiled to herself. Viktoria didn’t like to run, jog or do much physical training. However, she’d put on a kilo or so and Irina had insisted she start jogging at least.

She caught up with the Captain, slowed and motioned for her to stop. Viktoria did so gratefully.
“Yes, Irina?”
“How’s the weight coming?”
“O.K. Did you hear?”
Irina nodded smiling wickedly.
Viktoria laughed. “You did it, didn’t you? Well, it’s about time, He was a fool to think he would get away with it.”

Irina said nothing. The KGB Colonel who ran Central City had finally paid the price for his sexual harassment and sadistic treatment of young female recruits. It had taken her a year to force her superiors to get rid of him.
“Whose going to be the new boss?” asked Viktoria.

“Hopefully someone with his priorities straight.” Irina frowned. The date, what was it? She turned and started running, calling back, “See you in the showers.” She glanced at her watch again. She was late. She thought about the Colonel and gave a little laugh. They’d be throwing a party tonight.

“Oh God,” she cried, “it’s Sydney’s birthday.” Suddenly she bent over, sobbing, as the memories crowded everything else out of her mind. How could she have forgotten?



Part 3 – Paris/Central City – 1988

Jack stood on the street corner with Sydney by his side. She had just turned thirteen. She was actually a teenager. He had promised her a trip when school was out. He had not seen her much, traveling as much as he did. She seemed to grow up faster than he ever could imagine. She was, at times, as dispassionate as he was. He kept looking at her as she exclaimed over the sights and sounds of this great city. He blinked. She looked like her mother, almost too much so. Was this to be his penalty for not paying her the attention she needed as she grew up? He glanced at her with a fond expression on his face.

As he did so, his attention totally on his daughter, he failed to see the man with the camera take their picture. In fact, the photographer had taken several that day, always mindful of his orders not to be seen.

Three days later, an envelope was delivered to the operations director of the 2nd Directorate, KGB headquarters #2 Dzerzhinskiy Square, at the Kremlin in Moscow. In the envelope were several pictures of Jack Bristow and his daughter, Sydney. The director looked at them, removed one from the folder, then put the others in another manila envelope, addressed it and gave it to his secretary to mail.

Irina sat in her office at the school going through her mail. She saw the return address on the large envelope. She looked at it for a moment, then ripped it open and sliding the contents onto her desk. There were four pictures: one of Jack, one of Sydney and two with Jack and Sydney together. They were in Paris. Her hands shook a little as she looked at Sydney who was thirteen. She did not look very happy. Her face was, Irina frowned, just a little too adult. Jack looked cold, stern and perhaps a bit uncomfortable. She touched his face as though hoping it would smile. She spotted a piece of paper lying underneath the pictures. Two words were written on it. “Happy Birthday.”

She returned the pictures to the envelope, stapled it closed and placed it in her briefcase. She would put them with the few others she had received over the past few years. Irina was grateful she was able to have these. It made this exile easier to bear.

There was another envelope with the same return address on it. It looked very official. She opened it and read the contents. Standing up, she picked up the briefcase, stuffing the rest of her mail in it and left for headquarters.

Three hours later, Irina Derevko took over as the new superintendent of the Central City, the KGB school for spies.

Sydney's growing up and Irina is busy in other parts of the world. She still thinks about the little girl she left behind in that awful night... Does she love her? I think she does.

Part 4 – Moscow – 1992

Irina stood in the clearing, waiting. She was dressed for the extreme cold, long winter coat, boots, and a shapkas, a military fur hat, pulled down across her ears. She looked about her. There were birch trees all around as the clearing was in the middle of a forest located some a hundred kilometers north of Moscow. Snow lay on the ground several inches deep. The quiet was deafening. But the area was uninhabited. She was sure to have all the privacy she needed. Her black Mercedes was parked close by; she walked to it leaning against the fender, getting some heat from the still warm engine.

She pulled a wallet from her inside coat pocket. Flipping it open, she looked at the picture of the young girl, her daughter, Sydney Bristow. She was wearing a cap and gown. It was a graduation picture. Sydney was just seventeen going on thirty. She looked so grown up, so adult. Irina touched the face, then rubbed at it with her thumb. Her shoulders sagged, as she also felt terribly sad. She bit her lip to forestall any tears.

Suddenly, she heard cars approaching. Putting the wallet back in her coat, she took a flashlight out of her pocket and gave the signal. Minutes later, two cars drove up. Doors opened and ten people stepped out, walking towards her. They stopped, wondering why she had brought them here.

“Good evening, comrades!”
They murmured appropriate responses.

“You have been selected for a very special operation. We are going into business and it will be very lucrative for all of us. The USSR is breaking up and now there will be separate states, countries even. You are all well-trained agents. Our business will be intelligence: buying and selling to anyone who wants it. As we
get better at this, we can branch out. We will maintain the utmost secrecy. No one will know who we are or what we are. You will all make more money than you ever did with the KGB. That I promise.”

“There will be no more KGB?” Someone asked.

“No more KGB. In a year, agents, thugs and other personnel will be out of work. For those of you who do not know me, I am Irina Derevko, and I am in charge. You were all hand picked by me for my organization. Do you have any questions?”

There was no doubt in any of their minds who was boss. “And if any of you talk, or deviate in any way from the plans for this operation, they will have this to look forward too.” She drew out a pistol with a silencer on it, turned and fired at the man standing to her left. He dropped without a word, shot through the heart. “Any questions now?”

They looked at him and then back at her. “Who was he?”

“A man who arranged an accident he shouldn’t have.” She put her gun back into its holster, thinking about her friend, Viktoria, who had been killed a month ago in an unexplained automobile accident. She had found out he had been responsible.

“Now I need to know if you are with me?”

“Totally, Irina,” answered one man after looking at the faces of his comrades all of whom had nodded in agreement.

Tajikistan – 1994 – Part 5
Irina scanned the pass. The trucks were coming. According to the intel she received, The Alliance had stolen guns and ammunition from a Russian military base near Dushanbe, the capitol of Tajikistan. They had sold the guns to a rebel leader in Pakistan. Irina was determined they would never arrive. She had other plans for the merchandise.

She looked at both sides of the pass. Her men were in place. She waved her right hand. Khasinau waved back indicating everyone was ready on his side. The convoy would arrive at the ambush point in five minutes. She kept her binoculars on the trucks, but her mind drifted for a moment elsewhere.

She closed her eyes briefly, traveling to Los Angeles and her daughter, Sydney. Through contacts, she knew Sydney, who was 19, was studying at UCLA where she herself had once taught. She was going to be a teacher.

Irina focused back on the convoy. A teacher! - just because her mother had been one those many years ago. Irina’s dark eyes danced as she visualized Sydney telling Jack that was what she wanted to be. She wasn’t sure how he had reacted, but maybe he hadn’t had much to say.

Another minute and the convoy would be at the attack point. She hefted the rifle to her shoulder, pulled the safety off, and sighted. She was to take down the three men in the lead jeep. One of them, she knew, was from the Alliance.

She hoped he had the money. She loved being paid two ways. Irina fired, then fired twice more. Three shots and three men killed. She hadn’t lost her touch.

More moments when Irina thinks of Sydney even though she's running her crime cartel.

Part 6
Moments in Time
Moscow - 1995

Irina leaned against her Mercedes on the arrival level at Shermetyevo International Airport outside of Moscow. She glanced at her watch. Dimitri should be almost through customs and on his way. She looked around. There was no one she knew. She had a half-hour before she met with her man in Moscow. He had some intel she wanted. She looked at her long fingers, her nails manicured and painted a bright red. Her hair was coifed without one hair being out of place. She was going to make an impression at this meeting. But first, she looked toward the doors. Still, there was no Dimitri.
She frowned. She had checked. He was on the flight from London. Well, maybe the lines were longer than usual. She bent over, looking inside the window on the passenger side.
“Grigor, we will wait just a few more minutes. How long before we need to be on the road?
He started to answer, then pointed.
Irina whirled, to see Dimitri walking hurriedly toward her. “Get in,” she ordered.
He threw his bag in the front seat and entered, Irina following. She rolled up the window between her driver and herself. “Well? What did you learn? Did you see her?”
“Who is she?” He asked.
“Dimitri, just tell me.” She was exasperated.
He reached inside his coat pocket and brought out a picture. “This is the best I could do. I was pretending to be a tourist, so I couldn’t get her to pose.”
She snatched the picture away. “Credit Dauphine?” He had taken a picture of Sydney as she walked by the sign advertising the bank. “What is it?”
“A bank. She works there.”
“Does she?” Irina sat back with the picture in her hand. “Well, thank you, Dimitri. I will give this to her parents.” She put it in her purse and pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. “Thank you. Here is the agreed amount. We will let you out at the next bus stop. I have to be at a meeting in ten minutes.”
Grigor pulled up and Dimitri got out, touching his head in a salute, as she drove off.
Irina kept the window up between her chauffeur and herself. She pulled the picture out of Sydney. “Working at a bank? I thought she wanted to be a teacher?” Her eyes narrowed as she tried to remember where she had heard that name, Credit Dauphine, before. Why? She stared at the bank’s name again…then it started to come to her…“That bastard Sloane, he’s recruited Sydney!”

___
Moments in Time – Part 7
South Africa - 1996
Khasinau watched the shacks located near the massive diamond mine. The place was almost deserted. He looked at Irina. She was dressed in rough khakis with a bush hat on her head. The sun was hot. She was sweating. He couldn’t read her face, which seemed almost impassive, considering they would be in possession of three hundred million dollars in diamonds within the next few minutes.

“Are you sure of the intel,” he said.

She nodded and pointed. There was a car coming along the road leading to the shacks. She had a sniper’s rifle cradled in her arms sighting along the barrel to see the men disembarking the car. It was Morris Carson, The Alliance’s man in Johannesburg.

The door to the shack opened and a man dressed in riding clothes stepped out. Carson had a brief case in his right hand. The driver and another man stepped out of the car behind him. They accompanied him up to the man in the doorway. After a moment, Carson and the other man went inside. The two other men stood on the shack’s small porch, searching for anyone who shouldn’t be there.

Irina had already decided how the robbery was going to go. She nodded at Khasinau. He ran to his left, keeping the shacks and the guards between himself. A minute later, he was in position. Irina settled down with her rifle. The targets were acquired. She fired in rapid succession. Both guards died from head shots. Khasinau had been on the porch almost by the time the second man fell.

He disappeared inside. Irina ran out of the shack she had used as cover and made it to the doorway of the shack where Morris had entered within two minutes. As she ran, she heard two shots which meant Khasinau was taking care of the other two. She burst thru the doorway as Khasinau was looking into the satchel. He looked up, startled.

“Irina!” His right hand was down inside.

She stopped, looking at him. “The diamonds?”
He nodded, handing the satchel to her. She smiled. She almost had caught him with his greed showing. She had become more wary of him and his increasing discomfort at working for a woman. He was a friend of her father’s and that was why he was a member of her organization. She knew she would have to watch him more carefully in the future.

“The money?”

“Here!” He opened Carson’s briefcase. “Negotiable bonds worth three hundred million.”
“Not a bad day’s work.” Irina handed him the briefcase and she took the satchel. “Let’s go.” She left the room without a backward glance at the two men lying sprawled on the floor.

A few minutes later, Khasinau was driving back toward the small town of Riekenpo. Irina sat in the back seat, wiping her face. She reached inside the satchel and pulled out some of the diamonds. They were uncut, but they sparkled with the promise of their future. Irina knew where she could sell them and get the entire price.

She looked at the diamonds. Her dark eyes danced and her lips parted in a smile. She picked out one from the bag. It had intensity. She would get it cut and set in the proper way. It would be a gift, perhaps not now, but maybe later. Sydney was 21 today. What a birthday present!

Moments in Time – Part 8
1997 – London

Irina stretched. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Three o’clock! She took a deep breath, stretched again, and swung her legs out from under the blanket and onto the floor. She stood up and stretched again. She had an hour before she met Sasha and Khasinau. She needed to get ready.

Ten minutes later, she had finished showering and was standing in front of the mirror. She stared at herself, thinking that she looked pretty good for a woman who had just turned forty-five four weeks ago. There wasn’t even a gray hair on her head and few wrinkles on her face. Her body was well-muscled and lean as ever. She took care of herself because to live in the world she did, there was a need to be vigilant and be ready to act instantly, whether physically or mentally.

She pulled on her watch, glancing at the date, April 17th. Sydney’s birthday. Her eyes went to the pictures she kept on her bedside table: the one taken when Sydney was six with she and Jack and the other, the one as Sydney entered the bank, headquarters for SD-6. Dimitri had taken it last year. She’d had several copies made to keep. She bit her lower lip to keep herself focused. The longing she kept hidden from the rest of her world would be so strong sometimes she would break down and cry.

Irina walked to the closet, pulled out the clothes she would need and quickly dressed. She put on the shoulder holster and then her jacket. She had enough time to grab some coffee and toast.

There was a knock on the door. She opened it. Grigor and Khasinau were standing there. She looked at the two. “Is everything set?”

Khasinau nodded. “Yes, the messenger boarded the plane as we were told. He will be landing momentarily. We have plenty of time to get to the ambush point.”

She nodded, opening a small chest near the door. She removed her pistol with silencer attached, checked it to be sure it was fully loaded and stuck it in the holster. “Does The Alliance expect him?”

“Yes,” answered Khasinau. “but Sloane sent him without a bodyguard.”

Irina frowned. “Could mean someone from The Alliance will meet him.”

He shrugged. “I think we can handle them, but it is early in the morning. He just has to take a taxi from Heathrow.” His cell buzzed. He opened it. “Da?”
He looked at Irina with a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“And?”

“He’s on his way.”

That morning in Los Angeles, Arvin Sloane got word that the messenger with the Rambaldi artifact had been mugged. The box was gone. No one had seen a thing. He was furious.



Moments in Time – Part 9
Turkey – 1998

The boxes of weapons and ammunition were being loaded into the trucks Irina had brought. These trucks were Turkish licensed. She was not going to risk the hijacked goods to the cracker box type of truck that usually traveled roads close to the border.

The weapons had been meant for Iraq. However, when Irina received intel from her man in Baghdad that The Alliance had made the sale to Hussein she decided The Man could use both the money and the goods. The Alliance had arranged for them to be delivered to Northern Iraq, near the border. Her special team had been assembled to relieve The Alliance of both the guns and the money.

“Khasinau, get the money.” She pointed to a man who lie sprawled on the ground with a briefcase locked on his wrist. Kneeling down, Khasinau fished in the man’s pocket for the keys. Finding them, he unlocked the briefcase and brought it to Irina.

She opened it to find bearer bonds, totaling fifty million dollars. She smiled. Her bank account was going to be richer. She could sell the weapons to Russia for the same amount. That money would go into the organization’s already hefty bank account. She funded the cartel by money stolen or earned when she could blackmail someone, although more often than not, she blackmailed for information, which was readily given. It was much easier to get than to bicker about money.

Khasinau opened the door. She sat in the passenger side.
“What day is this?”

“April 16th.

“Ahh,” she intoned, “my daughter will be twenty-three tomorrow.” She smiled wistfully. She would love to see her again. It had been seventeen years. Irina looked out the window, checking the side-view mirror. The trucks were right behind them.

Here are the final four years...

Moments In Time – Part 10
Amsterdam – 1999

Sydney had just turned twenty-four. She had been sent to Amsterdam to pick up a Rambaldi artifact that Sloane had bought from a jeweler. It was a benign assignment, so no one was sent to be with her. She had handed the old man the money and he had given her the box.

“Are you staying long?” He asked pleasantly.

“Overnight. I thought I’d go sight-seeing.”

He smiled. “We have a very beautiful city. I close at 4:30. My wife and I would be happy to have you dine with us.”

“But I don’t know you.” Sydney was shocked.

“I know. But Arvin is an old friend of mine and I’m sure he’d want you treated well. You wouldn’t get the chance to eat real Dutch food at a hotel.”

“All right.”

That night was a pleasant interlude. The jeweler and his wife were excellent company and told many stories about their lives in this city. They drank wine and talked until late. Finally, the jeweler got up, indicating it was time to go.

“I have a gift for you,” he said smiling.

“But – but I hardly know you.”

“It is an old ring. Antique in fact. You reminded me of it when you came into the store. It was gathering dust. You are beautiful young lady and I think this ring would glow with you wearing it.” He took a small box out of his pocket and opened it.

Sydney looked down at it. “It’s beautiful.” She looked at him. “Gathering dust in a corner?”

“Yes, but I polished it this evening. That’s why it looks so good.” He smiled benignly. “It would give this old man a great deal of pleasure if you would take it and wear it. Those are not real diamonds, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

She looked at him and then at the ring. She slipped it on her right ring finger. It did look beautiful. “All right, for you and if anyone asks where I got it, I’ll tell them to look you up.”

“Deal, young lady.” He smiled again happily. “I’ll bid you a good night. My wife has called you a taxi.” He glanced out the window and saw it stop out front.

Sydney leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you again for a wonderful night.”

He shut door and walked to his office. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. A moment later, he said, “She has the ring,” and hung up.

A few hundred miles away, Irina snapped her cell phone shut. She smiled. Taking the glass of wine she had, she lifted it, “Happy Birthday, Sydney.”


Moments in Time – Part 11
Mediterranean Sea – 2000

Irina stood at the rail, watching land slowly fade away. It was hot and dry. This old freighter was on its way to the Black Sea, with stops all along the North African Coast and ports of Crete and Cyprus, as well as Turkey. She had come aboard as one of ten passengers. She was the only woman. She had been the object of several stares from the crew. She was aware she was good-looking and they might think, vulnerable. She would have to be careful.

Two days later, the freighter had left the sight of land again, having left Tripoli the night before. Irina stood in her cabin, checking her weapon, making sure it was fully loaded and that she had extra clips in her pocket. Then she put it into the shoulder holster she was wearing. She was dressed casually in khaki cargo pants, white polo with a brown leather jacket. For color, she tied a red scarf around her neck. She looked at her watch. It was getting close to the hour she had selected.

It was eleven o’clock at night. She wanted everything done before the next watch. Of course there weren’t that many crewman about, it being small ship. She stepped out of her cabin just as the door opened across the hall. Khasinau stepped out and looked at her. A moment later all of the passengers stood in front of her.

“You all know what to do, so let’s go!”

She and Khasinau went outside on deck, found the stairs and made their way swiftly to the deck above. She paused, pulling her gun, watching Khasinau pull his, then nodded. She pulled the door open and stepped in, he followed.

“What the devil…” cried the Captain. “Get out of here.” Then he saw the guns pointed at him and his crewman at the wheel. Khasinau shot the man at the wheel.

“Where is it?” She asked.

“What are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

Irina shot him in the arm. “I don’t have time. Where is the heroin AND the money you got in Tripoli!”

He stared at her and knew he had no chance. “In my cabin. The coke is in the forward hold.”

A minute later, he had led her to his cabin. He opened the safe behind his desk, stepping back, “You won’t get away with this. They’ll find you and kill you.”

She smiled coldly, “Not if they don’t know what happened.” She killed him without blinking an eye. It gave her great satisfaction to know the drugs would not end up in her country.

She glanced at the calendar on the wall behind the safe. The date, April 17th, caught her eye. Sydney’s birthday! She wondered what she was doing.

Sydney, in Los Angeles, looked at her Dad in the briefing room. She was twisting the ring on her right hand. The zircons sparkled.


Moments In Time – Part 12
Moscow – 2001

Irina sat at the table, working with her laptop. She was looking into her financial accounts, located in several banks outside of Russia. It was early spring again. There was a chill in the air. Moscow never did really warm up until late May. She had turned on the heater and the room would soon be warm.

She had come back to Moscow to make a report. There had been some questions raised about the ship she hijacked last year. It seemed that someone thought she had taken the contents and sold them. She shuddered. That would never have happened. Irina sipped from a cup of tea by her side. Sometimes these men were greedy fools. Of all the things she had done the past nine years, dealing in drugs had not been one of them.

Even Khasinau had been somewhat chagrined at her orders to sink the ship. She had had to go down into the hold and supervise the job, to make sure it was done the way she wanted. The safe she rifled had given her not only money, but names of dealers the Captain was going to sell to, including three from Russia.
She sank the ship, watching it break up from a small motor launch.

Irina’s eyes narrowed as she stared unseeing into the screen. She was going to have to do something about him. He was getting too greedy, forgetting what their initial goal was…to serve and protect.

Her cell rang. She picked it up. “Derevko!” She listened, her eyes widened. “Here? Are you sure it was Sydney? Did you see her clearly enough?” She listened. “Call our asset in Los Angeles, see if he knows anything. And let me know as soon as you hear.”

She snapped the phone shut. Staring at the screen again. Damn Sloane to hell! Absorbed in what she was doing, she had not made it her priority to keep Sydney in her focus. According to Khasinau, she had been outside the building watching when the chief of the K-Directorate was killed by one of his own bodyguards. Something she had arranged with Sark to orchestrate. What was Sydney doing there? Why?

Irina walked into her bedroom and stood to look at the pictures on her dresser. Most of them were of Sydney. Her daughter was a beautiful woman. She was going to be twenty-six. She would have been married if Sloane hadn’t had her fiance murdered.

Turning on her heel, Irina went back to her laptop, hurrying to finish the job she had started. Events were beginning to move closer to bringing her in contact with her daughter. Irina was not happy.

Moments in Time – Part 12
Taipei – 2002

Gerard looked at Irina. What would she do? He knew her daughter Sydney was in the other room, tied up, having been caught at the lab. She was working as a double agent for SD-6 and the CIA. She had destroyed the Rambaldi device. He had been willing to pay Irina a lot of money for it on delivery. Now it had been blown up, destroyed, by this woman. Irina ordered him to give Sydney water and something to eat. Khasinau had gone in with some food.

It had been Khasinau who learned Sydney was a double agent. Gerard could see it had given him great pleasure to tell Irina this. Gerard wondered what that was all about. It was evident there was more tension between the two than the last time he had had contact.

“She says she won’t eat anything or answer any questions until she talks to the Man.”

Irina’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then she picked up her gun. She stood up and disappeared into the back room. A minute later, there was a gunshot. Both men jumped up. She returned, the acrid smell of gun smoke emanating from the direction she had come.

“Lets get something to eat.” She put the gun in her purse.

“What happened,” Curvee asked.

“She didn’t want to talk. I gave her an incentive to talk.” She walked out of the room. The two men looked at each other, then followed.

The Moment in Time – Part 13
Barcelona - 2002

Irina watched from the rooftop of the warehouse. Using the scope on her rifle, she made out the faces of several men – and Sydney! She sighted again. There was no doubt about it. Sydney! She swore under her breath. Khasinau drove up, followed shortly by the messenger. He had the operations manual that he was to deliver to her.

Suddenly there was shouting. She looked again, then made a quick decision. She fired. The windshield of the messenger’s vehicle exploded. She swung the gun and fired again at the agents. The CIA agents dispersed. Khasinau grabbed the briefcase and started running with it. Sydney and another agent followed. Irina fired again, nicking one the CIA agents behind the open door of the car. He cried out. The agent with Sydney left her and went to his aid. Irina set the rifle up to fire automatically, then left her rooftop position.

Down in the warehouse, Sydney got the drop on Khasinau. “Freeze.” He stopped. “Drop the suitcase.” He obeyed. “Hands behind your head. On your knees.”

But he wasn’t going without a fight. Sydney had her hands full for a moment or two until she roundhouse kicked him. She got her gun and pointed it at him as someone walked in.

“Drop it.” Irina ordered. She had witnessed the fight. Her daughter was good, very good. She would have to be careful not to get too close.

Sydney turned. Khasinau was behind her. She dropped her gun. Khasinau got up, a smile on his face. Irina’s gun was pointed at Sydney. Without warning, Irina fired. The shot caught a very surprised Khasinau in the chest. Irina smiled coldly. It was about time, she thought.

“Hands behind your head.” Sydney followed her mother’s orders.

“Get on your knees, head to the ground.”

Irina kicked the gun away and picked up the suitcase. “Remember Sydney, truth takes time.” She turned and left as quietly as she had come. She doubted if Sydney or the CIA would find her exit.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW.................... HELLA GOOD........HELLA GOOD......... :D :D :D

Boy that was terrific. I like the way you showed how much she kept track of her daughter. I'm going to be interested in reading your other stories. :D

SWEET A*!!!!!! Please update soon!!!! You are like my favorite author!!! :)

YES!!!!!!!!!!! I've finally made it!!! (for those of you who think I'm crazy, I've been trying to get here for ages, and kept getting lost!)

Now I can read all these totally awesome fics!!! Rock on!!!

Thanks for the help lenafan!!!

Hope there is more. Please update soon if there is.

There are not more of Moments In Time, but I've been thinking about a couple of more stories. And practically every one of my stories are here. B)

Another great story!