Author’s Note: This is a what-if story that takes place near the end of Truth Takes Time. I like to do these because it gives the reader an option to what did happen in Alias, Season 2. Besides, it’s fun to write.
Sorry for the delay, but a number of factors interfered with an earlier posting.
SUMMARY: The premise here is that when Sydney shoots her mother, she hits her in the shoulder, not the arm. Irina falls, unable to make it over the edge of the hatch. Meantime Sloane and Emily run for the helicopter, but Emily is killed. Sark and Sloane get away.
DISCLAIMER: The characters in Alias belong to JJ Abrams and ABC-TV except those I create.
RATING: PG-13 for language and violence. You’ll be notified if it escalates into something more.

FREEZE!
By Lenafan

Irina fired, as she ducked, she caught a glimpse of her adversary…it was Sydney! “Oh dear God,” she thought. She didn’t know that Sydney had also seen her and was going through the same emotions. Irina fired again knowing her shots wouldn’t hit Sydney, but might keep her pinned as she ran for the ladder out of the tunnel. Sloane and Emily had already made it to the exit and were running toward the field where the helicopter would land.

She leaped for the ladder. Twenty feet up and she’d be safe.

“Freeze! Or I’ll shoot!”

Irina looked up four or five more rungs to go. She glanced down at Sydney, whose weapon did not waver as she pointed it at her. Would her daughter do it? She heard the helicopter. She might make it if Sydney didn’t fire. She reached for the next rung and stepped up. The shot echoed and the bullet struck her in the left shoulder. Severe pain ripped through her. The bullet tore out of her anterior shoulder after snapping the collarbone.

The disc fell from her hand, landing at Sydney’s feet. Irina gasped as waves of pain tore through her body. In the distance, she thought she heard another shot. She forgot it, as she gripped the ladder with her right hand and fought to overcome the pain, but was losing.

“Unnhh!” Irina moaned and began to lose her grip. Blackness crept into her consciousness. If she fell, she might hurt herself even more. She felt nauseated. She closed her eyes, felt her fingers slide slowly down the ladder. “Ohhh,” she cried, falling the last seven feet, landing at Sydney’s feet, unconscious and bleeding.

“Mom?” Sydney cried, tears in her eyes. Irina’s eyes were closed and a large amount of blood appeared on the front of her shoulder above the breast.

“Sydney,” said a voice from the shaft’s opening above them. “What happened?” It was Vaughn.

“Get a medic. I’ve shot my mother.”

Irina lost consciousness.


Irina heard voices. She seemed to be swimming out of deep water. She wasn’t sure how far she had to go.

“Oh Dad, I—I had to do it.” That was Sydney’s voice.

“Sweetheart, of course you did. She’s going to live.” Jack was with her. “She didn’t obey the order, so she got the bullet. Somehow, I think she might forgive you.”

“You think?”

Irina kept swimming. She saw a light. “Ummm,” she moaned and slowly opened her eyes to see Jack at the foot of the bed, Sydney beside him. She couldn’t move her left arm. It was in a sling plastered to her body. She couldn’t move her right arm. It was handcuffed to the bed. She tried to shift her body a little. Her shoulder ached like sin. “Sooksin,” she managed to murmur.

Jack laughed softly. “Yeah, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“You shot me,” Irina murmured, looking at her daughter, who looked somewhat pained.

“You didn’t ‘freeze’ Mom.” Sydney said quietly.

“I guess I didn’t and I underestimated you.” Irina sighed. She turned her head slightly and looked at Jack, “Now what?”

“I suspect you are going to be returned to prison.” Jack said.

“Put to death, you mean,” Irina said.

He shook his head, “In spite of everything, Irina, you provided good Intel on several occasions. I imagine we can get you off with just a life sentence.”

“Chyort!”

“How do you feel,” asked Jack.

“Pain is not too bad,” she answered. Irina closed her eyes. She’d felt worse pain in her lifetime. As it went, this was a piece of cake. She drifted off to sleep.

Jack looked at Sydney, “We’ll come back tomorrow, sweetheart. She’ll be a little more lucid.”

The next day, Jack stood outside Irina’s door with two US Marshals and Kendall. He was talking about when they would be transporting her back to prison.

“The doctor told me she should be moving around. She can’t be handcuffed to the bed.”

“No Jack, she stays as is.” Kendall said stiffly.

“If she gets bed sores, she’ll stay longer in this facility,” Jack retorted. “Let the Marshals stay inside the room. She won’t be going anywhere for a few days.”

Kendall reevaluated Jack’s statement. “Very well. They stay inside as long as she is not handcuffed. Understood?” He looked at the three men. Jack nodded.

Moments later, he was inside with the key in his hand. The two Marshals stood on either side of the door. Both had served as her guards while she was in CIA’s custody. Jack went to the right side of the bed, reached in, and unlocked the cuff holding Irina still. Grateful, Irina turned on her right side, away from the two men standing guard.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She had pain in her shoulder, but turning onto her right side, felt as though she’d experienced a kiss. She closed her eyes, sighing.

Jack leaned in saying, “The guards stay inside as long as you are not cuffed. That’s the only way Kendall would go for it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered again and then she stretched both legs. “Raise my bed a little would you?”

“Here, do it yourself.” He handed her a small box attached to an electric cord. “Punch this button to raise it and this one to lower it.” He let her operate the box.

“Jack…I need to tell you something. Bend down,” she said softly.

“What is it,” he leaned closer, knowing she didn’t want the Marshals to hear.

“Maybe you will believe it and maybe not, but that night in Panama…I loved every minute we were together. I know you think I betrayed you, but…” she saw his eyes take on a wary look. “Jack, bring Sydney tonight and handcuff me. I want to talk to you both alone. Please.” She gripped his hand hard.

“Irina.” Now he saw desperation on her face and in her eyes. He sighed. “All right.”

It was after eight before Jack and Sydney arrived at the hospital. Jack had one of the Marshals handcuff Irina; then he asked them to leave.

Sydney was bending over her mother, talking softly when Jack returned. “Emily is going to be buried again tomorrow.”

There were tears in Irina’s eyes. Irina had been her friend earlier while married to Jack. They had just become reacquainted after twenty years. Of all the people in the world, aside from her own family, Emily was the one person she was truly sorry about; Sloane and Sark could take care of themselves, but Emily had no idea about the devil she married.

“Big funeral?”

“No, we’re doing it quietly since the first was a lie.”

Jack stood by the bed. “Irina, we’re both here. What did you want to tell us?”

Irina looked at Sydney, “Let me raise the bed first.”

Sydney watched Irina as the head raised her up. Irina closed her eyes for a minute as she processed her thoughts, then she looked at Jack.

“You wanted to know my endgame. The one that brought me to CIA?”

“Yes, but then we know you just wanted to be a part of Sloane’s team of terrorists.”

Irina bowed her head slightly. She shook it slowly. “No, Jack, that wasn’t the real reason.” Her eyes pinned his. “I was pregnant when I left in 1981. I gave birth to another girl in Moscow a month after I left Kashmir prison. Her name is Nadia and I haven’t seen her for the past twenty years.”

Jack gaped at her. Sydney was stunned.

Irina plunged ahead. “The KGB took her from me the day after she was born. When she was six, a Friend of Rambaldi follower stole her from a KGB laboratory and hid her. He hid her so well that I have not been able to locate her. I do not know if she is alive or dead.”

“Why didn’t you tell us when you were in CIA custody,” growled Jack angrily. He was shaking.

“Because I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. How could I tell you that when you had to deal with my being there. Now, however, I’m going to prison. I can’t hunt for her any longer. You and Sydney have to find her.”

“Of course we will, Mom,” Sydney was positive.

“What does this have to do with your endgame?” Jack rumbled.

“She was my endgame. The disc I dropped contains the DNA of three million people. Sloane was going to use it for a different purpose. I wanted to check it for the possibility she was on it.”

“Three million is not the population of the world. There are five or six billion people on the planet.” Jack said.

“Yes,” she answered, “but she is on this disc. It comes from an area of the world not well explored…South America, most likely Argentina.”

“How did you narrow it down?”

She told him. “I hacked into every DNA file I could find while I was The Man. Nadia has to be twenty if she is still alive. Her birthday is 15 July 1982. When she was born, her eyes were dark like mine, her hair black like Mama’s and skin like hers too. Other than that I have no other description.”

Jack was trying to deal with the fact he had another daughter and couldn’t answer immediately. Sydney took her mother’s right hand. “We’ll do our best. I’ll get Marshall to run the disc immediately against our DNA.”

“Thank you. Let me know if you find her, please.” Irina glanced at Jack, who was trying to get his emotions in order.

“Would the old KGB files have her picture,” he asked.

“I tried to find them. I could not. Even my father could not. Everything was destroyed by the KGB hierarchy when the USSR fell.” Irina studied the wall in front of her, trying to decide if she should tell Jack and Sydney more. She decided not to do it until they found her. “I do want to tell you one more thing: my sister Yelena may be looking for her and may have found her.”

“Why?” Jack and Sydney said at once.

“I have an aunt too!” Sydney gasped.

“You of two of them,” rumbled Jack. “Ekaterina is the youngest.”

“Dad, you knew this and didn’t tell me?”

He stared at Irina, “When you are betrayed, you want to know by who and all about their family.”

Irina said nothing for a moment, and then added, “Yelena was an archivist with the KGB. She became enamored with the information the KGB was collecting on Rambaldi. I understand when she left the organization, she took some Rambaldi manuscripts with her.

“What do they have to do with Nadia,” asked Jack, frowning.

Suddenly Irina realized she better tell them both everything. “She is The Passenger.”

Sydney gasped.

Jack stared. “Our daughters…both of them, are a part of the cursed Rambaldi legend?” His eyes pinned those of Irina’s.

She met his furious gaze without flinching. “Yes!”

“I don’t believe it,” he snapped.

“Sorry, but it’s true, Jack. That’s why the KGB took her. They had come into possession of a manuscript, which said The Chosen One’s sister would be The Passenger and that the Passenger would have the answer to Rambaldi’s most prized artifact. It did not tell what it was.”

“I thought it was Sloane who had a connection with Rambaldi. Now it seems…” He stared at her. “It’s you,” he said, probing her face and locking onto her eyes.

“It could be you,” she said.

“Wait!” Cried Sydney. Her parents looked at her. “I have a sister and I don’t care about this Rambaldi stuff. I just want to find her.”

“Get Marshall to work on the disc.” Said Irina to Jack and Sydney. “I believe you said he could work miracles. She’s on it and you can go from there.”

Sydney leaned down and planted a kiss on Irina’s cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“We will keep you informed,” said Jack, still stunned by the revelation he had another daughter somewhere in the world.


The next evening, Jack was back with the news it would be another few days or so until the encrypted disc was solved and they could start processing the DNAs collected on it. He wanted to talk to Irina. Because he wanted to talk to her alone, he left the marshals outside.

Irina was sitting up slightly, at least as much as the handcuffed wrist would let her. Her face lighted up as he walked into the room. “Hello Jack,” she said.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, pulling up the only chair in the room. He shoved down the side rail on the left side.

“Better.” She looked at him. “Have you found her yet?”

“No. Sydney said to tell you she’s working with Marshall to break the encryption code. As soon as they get it, she’ll come over.”

“She’s a wonderful young woman, Jack. I meant it when I said I was grateful for you raising her.” She gave him a tentative smile.

“Irina,” he pulled the chair closer. “It would have been easier if you had told me a long time ago.”

“What would it accomplish?” She answered. “I didn’t know where she was. There was very little DNA science then and my life was not good. I—I was in prison for six months before they released me. It was not pleasant. I spent all my energy getting as much good food as possible in me, still it was not enough. They performed a caesarean on me. I was sent to Central City the following week.”

“Your father…sisters…couldn’t they help?”

She laughed a deep scornful laugh. “Father had to protect himself. He had worked himself to a Lt. Colonel in the Operations Directorate. He wanted to stay out of Andropov’s ire, but he didn’t have to worry. Andropov died a year or two later. Yelena hated me, so she wouldn’t lift a hand. Besides I had not seen her since I left for America. Katya, well, she was busy making herself a name in the KGB and bedding every young man she could entice.”

“Couldn’t you get word to me?”

“By phone, maybe?” She laughed again. “Jack, I know you may not believe this, but at that particular moment in my life, I didn’t think you would take my call.”

He snorted and ended in a laugh, “I guess you’re right. You broke my heart, you know.”

“I know,” she said softly. “You might laugh at this, but my heart broke also. I had to leave you…and Sydney. I believed they would kill you and her if I didn’t. I couldn’t risk it.”

Jack let her words sink in and smiled. “Today, what would you do?”

She hesitated, surprised, and then answered, “Today I might do something different. Maybe I would do a walk-in.”

“Well, that’s something.” He said quietly. He stood as if to go.

“Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Will you kiss me? I’m going to prison and I doubt they will allow you do get this close to me again. I’d like to take the kiss with me, to hold onto, and remember.”

He looked at her, a little surprised. His heart gave a thump. His pulse raced. He took a step forward, leaned down. She raised her face toward his. He took her chin in his left hand and took her mouth in his. Irina’s heart raced and she barely heard the monitor behind her increase the number of beeps, but she didn’t care. He kissed her and he did it well.


Translation
Sooksin - Son of a bit*ch
Chyort - Damn

Big question: Who is Nadia's father in your story? I doubt it's Jack...
It's funny to see that Sydney has never been closer to her mother. I mean, she kissed her, but is it because of the guilt for shooting her, or because Irina gave her a sister?

Appreciated the talk around the title, 'freeze'. I love this story already, and am dying to see where you take it.

Part 2
The Prison

Irina was wearing a sling to hold her left arm just under her breast. The doctor told her yesterday the x-rays revealed good healing of the clavicle. The bullet wound was filling in on schedule. Her rehabilitation, on time and without a breakdown, would bring her back to normal.

“Doctor,” she reminded him, “I’m going to prison. I don’t believe they have rehabilitation department there. Can you provide me with exercise I can do?”

Early that morning a physical therapist came to see her. She explained every exercise and what it would do to help heal the shoulder and make her strong again. Irina listened and memorized everything she said. She had no illusions as to the size of the cell she would enter at the prison.

It was eleven when two marshals entered the room carrying a leather belt with handcuffs on it. A nurse accompanied them with a wheelchair. Irina had dressed in the clothes she’d worn in Tuscany. They were clean and pressed. She didn’t have her boots, just some slip on shoes Sydney brought her. She stood up as one of the marshals put the belt around her and cuffed her right wrist to it. He pulled the left arm out of the sling and cuffed her wrist. Irina saw the nurse wince when she herself bit her lip. It hurt, but she managed to say nothing.

“She rides out in the wheel chair,” said the nurse. She put it behind Irina, who sat down.

The nurse with Irina in the wheel chair pushed her toward the elevators. One officer led the way and the other followed. They wore jackets that said US Marshal on the back, causing many heads to stare at the foursome. They entered an elevator and disappeared, leaving a few people to wonder who was in the wheel chair.

The four took the elevator to the garage floor underneath the hospital. A van was parked nearby, a driver inside. The nurse halted by the van. Irina managed to stand as one marshal opened the door. The other marshal helped her up into van and sat her down on a bench. He removed the belt and put her wrists into the familiar handcuffs that hung from the wall. He put the shackles on her ankles. It was to prevent her from moving or falling.
Irina had been through this before and was not upset, other than feeling pain in her left shoulder.

One marshal was leaving, when Sydney appeared in the doorway. “I’m coming with the prisoner.” She showed the marshal the paper she held authorizing it. She had begged Kendall to allow her to go. She had been working non-stop very long hours with Marshall to break the code so they could read the disk.

“Mom,” she said as Irina watched her climb into the back. “I’m sorry I didn’t get over to see you.”

“That’s all right Sydney, I understand. Have you broken the code?” She spoke in Russian.

Sydney responded in the same language. “Almost, but I had to see you.”

“Thank you.” Irina smiled. “Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you?”

Sydney glanced at the guard who was watching them both with undisguised interest. “Not exactly, but I heard after you first walked in and were at the JTF that you told some agents.”

Irina laughed, “Yes and it was the only thing they ever got from me.”

“You were determined, weren’t you?”

“Of course, I had an endgame, as your father said.” Irina’s eyes darkened. “I had to get to Sloane.”

“Yes, well you did.” Sydney watched her mother who winced when the van went over a bump in the road. “You’re hurting aren’t you?”

“Didn’t you?” Irina said it casually, reminding Sydney of her own shoulder wound.

Sydney nodded, thinking about the plane ride back to L.A. after meeting her mother for the first time in twenty years and then shot by her. “I’m…”

“Don’t say it, Sydney. You were doing your job and I was an escaped prisoner. When do you think the disk will be read?”

“We’re almost there.”

Out of a corner of her eye, Irina saw the guard talking to the guards riding up front. “I think we’d better speak English.”

“Mom!” Sydney nodded. “I want you to know that in spite of everything, I do love you. It’s just that you are,” she paused, “who you are.”

Irina laughed a deep-throated laugh. “I love you too, very much. Please find your sister.”

“No more talking,” said the guard.

Both women glanced at him grimly. They did not want a repeat of what happened the morning after they all returned from Kashmir. They sat in silence looking at each other, knowing it would be some time before they saw one another again. The search for Nadia would take Sydney out of the country between her regular assignments unless the CIA made finding Nadia a priority.
Finally, the van stopped and moments later, the rear door opened. The guard riding with them, unlocked the cuffs and shackles. Sydney helped Irina up. The left shoulder must be hurting as she gave a small gasp. Irina stood quietly as the marshal handcuffed her again. Sydney and he helped Irina down. The driver stood at the gates a few feet away waiting. He was with two prison guards.

“Sydney, you don’t have to come. I’ve been through this before you know.” Irina said quietly.

“I have some papers to give to the Warden.” Sydney responded. She turned to the marshals. “Please wait. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Irina glanced up at the prison. At least it wasn’t Kashmir. She knew what to expect. She wasn’t going to be isolated on death row. She would be put into another part of the prison, possibly with other criminals.

The gates opened and the marshals took her forward. They removed the handcuffs and handed her papers to the guards. Sydney spoke quietly to them and handed them authorization for her to enter with the prisoner. Neither one of the guards, both of whom were female and African-American, knew who she was. They checked her papers and let her through first.

“She was shot ten days ago,” said Sydney. “Left shoulder.”

They nodded, motioning Irina forward toward the processing rooms. There Irina was photographed, weighed, measured, and given a white gown. They took her to a room and told to remove her clothes, put on the gown, and sit on the table. One of the guards stood inside watching. Irina did it without comment.

The door on the other side of the room opened and a man in white jacket entered. He introduced himself as Dr. Mackey Jones or Doc Mac as the prison population knew him.
Irina nodded, making no comment.


Sydney followed a guard to the warden’s office. She produced her ID and handed him the papers sent by the DOJ to the Los Angeles CIA office. “These are from Asst. Director Kendall.”

“Thanks.” He took them from her and indicated a chair. “They want me to put her in solitary? Why?”

“They don’t want her killed or injured. She may be able to provide us with more information in future cases.”

“Yes, well, the population isn’t fussy about who they ‘take care of’, especially someone who is a convicted Russian spy and assassin.”

Sydney winced. “Yes, well, I guess she was doing her job as I do mine.”

“You are a field agent?” He was interested. It sounded like a glamorous job. He was reading the papers.

“Yes…and it’s dangerous.” Sydney saw he had a surprised look on his face.

“I—you—you are her daughter?”

“Yes and that’s a long story.” Sydney stood. “I don’t like to keep the marshals waiting any longer than necessary. Can you provide her isolation?”

“We’ll do the best we can. I’ll check with the Captain of the guards to see what cells we have available.”

Sydney reached over and shook his hand. “Thank you.”


Dr. Mackey Jones finished the physical. He noted the redness of the wound in her left shoulder and told the guard to notify her supervisor that he was putting the prisoner in the hospital ward for three more days. He thought she’d be able to move into her cell following rest and medication. He’d noted that the woman was sensitive to any movement of the shoulder.

“Otherwise, she is in good shape.”

They led Irina to the ‘department’ store where she was fitted with Federal prison blue: jacket, tees, pants, and slip-on shoes. Three sets of white underwear, bras, and socks were piled on top of those, which the guard carried. Toothpaste, toothbrush, comb, shampoo, two bath towels, hand towels, and added two washcloths. They told her that anything else she needed she would have to ‘buy’ with what she earned as a prisoner. She nodded.

“You’re not a talkative one, are you,” said the guard who identified herself as Mae Dickens.

“I’ve been here before,” answered Irina.

“Wouldn’t be surprised. Most inmates have been here before too!” She led Irina to a woman sitting in a small office.

Irina stood before a woman who looked Spanish, probably Latina. “Irina Derevko! You Russian?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

“Beside the crimes you were convicted of, what else did you do?”

Irina stared and then said quietly, “I was a teacher.”

“Really,” the supervisor was surprised. “What did you teach?”

“English literature. I was professor at UCLA.”

Both the guard and supervisor were surprised. “I think,” said the supervisor, “we have an important job you can do here. You can teach again.”

“Who and what?”

“The prisoners who want to get their GED credentials. Some of the women never finished high school.” The watch supervisor stared. “We don’t get many bona fide teachers in Federal Prison. We’ll check this out and if it’s true, you’ll be our new GED professor.”

“If you do, I worked under the name of Laura Bristow. I taught at UCLA in the 70’s.”

this fic is really great

I would expect nothing less from you though

but still thinking of irina teaching inmates and working to find nadia

its shaping up to be a great read!

bren

Yay, I like where this is going. The teaching part is a great idea!

Part 3 – The Professor

Three days later, Dr. Jones gave Irina permission to enter regular prison population. He felt her shoulder had healed well-enough. The DOJ wanted her in solitary for her own protection, but the warden had none available. She was put a cell by herself until one opened up. She began a routine rehabilitation of her shoulder and arm. She did not join in the regular exercise period and remained in her cell when other women went to various jobs that earned them a dollar a day. Guards took her to meals and to the shower room.

The other prisoners were curious as to who the ‘bit*ch’ was that was so privileged. She didn’t talk to anyone and all anyone knew was she was a lifer. All documents in the record office pertaining to Prisoner 32251 were locked in the warden’s office safe and not even the most trusted guard or trustee could find out anything except that in the 70’s, she had been a teacher named Laura Bristow.

Irina wondered when they would move her into solitary. However, she didn’t worry about it. Alone in the larger cell, she worked hard everyday to regain her strength and suppleness she’d lost recuperating. Solitary was not something she was looking forward too.

The warden, however, was also torn between that and keeping her out where she could be used to teach two dozen or so women enough to get their GED. The watch supervisor, Maria Luz, told him they had a bona fide Professor in Irina Derevko. They researched it and found she told the truth. He needed someone who at one time was credentialed to teach in California. He immediately put in a request to get her to teach in the prison. It was granted. It was a lifetime appointment.

When Irina heard this, she gave a long, deep throaty chuckle. Lifetime…indeed. However, she was pleased to be doing something she was familiar with and able to interact with her fellow inmates. It would make the time go faster. She began to make a list of the things she would need. This was a challenge she knew she could meet. She did wonder where Jack and Sydney were in locating Nadia.


Two weeks later, two dozen women entered the room that would serve as a classroom. The room measured 18 by 20 feet. Instead of desks, long tables eight feet by three feet wide were set up in the room. There was a desk and a chair at one end and on the wall behind it, a large blackboard was attached. The room was painted an innocuous pale green. Each table contained eight chairs, four to a side. There were no windows and no paintings of any kind. There was a tall cabinet near the desk, which would be used for supplies or anything else needed to teach the class. Always locked, only a guard with a key was able to open it.

Three guards accompanied the group. They would wait outside for the hour-long class to be over then return the students to their cells. There were fifteen African-Americans, 8 Latinas and 2 white women. They were all ages and all sizes. Most of them were eager to begin. There were a couple of exceptions. They had joined the group only to get out working. According to the warden, attending school would earn them the same amount of money per day.

Their teacher entered the room. The group stirred. Some had seen her earlier. She was hard to miss being white, six feet tall with a lean and wiry physique. Her eyes were dark and her hair a chestnut brown. She wore it in a single braid. Her hands were large and long. Her shoulders were wide and hips narrow. There was an aura of violence and danger surrounding her as she stood behind her desk looking at them. If she was a lifer, that meant she was probably a murderer.

She looked at them, smiled, turning to the blackboard behind her, wrote Irina Derevko. She had been tempted to write it in Russian, but then that was idiotic since none would know what the words meant.

“What kinda name is that?” One of the dissidents asked arrogantly.

“It’s mine and you are?” Irina knew she had a troublemaker.

“Talliah Smith.”

Irina smiled and wrote something down on a pad on her desk. She then went around the room asking each woman their name. Most of them were eager in their responses. However, she sensed she had another problem student and her name was Brenda Lewis. She was five ten weighing a hundred pounds more than Irina did. Her tone of voice was insolent.

“Today we are going to start by having you read aloud.” She handed each woman a paperback. They were not new, but purchased cheaply by the prison from school supply warehouses.

“I don’t feel like it,” said Talliah.

“Oh, oh,” someone said softly from the back of the room.

“Don’t?” Irina purred and she was not backing off. She knew there were two women who might not belong.

“Reading’s a bunch of bulls*hit.” Brenda Lewis jibed into the conversation.

“How do you expect to learn anything if you don’t read?” Irina asked pleasantly.

“Fu*k it.” Talliah snarled. “I know as much as I need to know to live.”

“Of course and here you are, in prison.”

“Same as you, bi*tch.”

The room became dead silent. Irina put her pencil down. She walked to Talliah’s seat holding the book they were going to read in her right hand. “Get up, stupid.” She hissed.

“What is your puny assed self think she can do,” asked Brenda from two seats away. She stood up and looked as menacing as anyone bent on mayhem. She didn’t like this Irina Derevko.

“I wasn’t addressing you, Miss Lewis.” She turned to Talliah and said quietly, “Get up, stupid, or can’t you understand English either.” The words were delivered scornfully.
Talliah stood and Irina swung at the same moment, striking the side of her head including her ear with the book she held in her hand. Talliah screamed and fell back, holding her head. Irina didn’t even look at her, but pivoted on her left foot, driving her right foot deep into the stomach of Brenda who had taken a step forward.

She dropped to the floor on her butt, the breath driven out of her. She grabbed her stomach and wide-eyed, trying to breathe. This was almost impossible. When Irina put down her left leg, she pivoted again and swung the book, backhanded, into the other side of Talliah’s head, knocking her senseless.

It took only seconds for the entire action. The rest of the women stared stunned at the quickness that the two women were handled so easily. They looked from Irina to Brenda and Talliah and back again, respect on their faces and in their eyes. Their teacher was no pushover and they knew she was to be obeyed.

Irina leaned against the desk. “Everyone open your books to the first page.”

The room quieted. Several eyes glanced at Talliah who was still holding her head and Brenda who rolled over onto her hands and knees, slowly getting her breath back. Then there was a click and the locked door was thrown open.

“Hey, what goes on in here?” It was one of the guards, Mae Dickens.

“Nothing, Mam’m,” said Irina, straightening. She nodded at Brenda who was picking herself up off the floor. “She slipped out of her chair.”

“What about you,” said Dickens to Talliah who was holding her head, still stunned by the two blows?

“Ah’m alright…just having a bad headache.”

Mae studied everyone who looked back at her. “Well…try not to slip out of your chair again, Lewis.” She glanced at Irina, who hadn’t moved. “Get on with the lesson.”

Irina did not have any more trouble and word spread fast that she was tough and fast. Irina saw that Brenda and Talliah were staying in the class. Brenda seemed to have more respect for her than anyone else did. Talliah was impressed enough to stay and really get her GED.

Exercise time gave all the women opportunities. They could exercise in the yard or do aerobics or yoga, which another inmate taught. Irina opted to do the latter as she still hurt from the gunshot wound. Yoga would help her regain the suppleness she had prior to the shot.

Days passed and Irina was beginning to wonder if Sydney and Jack had found Nadia yet.
Two weeks later, two guards came to her cell to tell her she had visitors. They cuffed and shackled her and then led her slowly to a private visitor’s room. The CIA credentials of Jack and Sydney had guaranteed them that.

The two sat in chairs in front of a plate glass window. The door on the other side of the room opened and Irina Derevko shuffled into the room. The guard put her down in a chair a few feet away and handcuffed her to it. The guard looked at the visitors with interest and then left.

“Hello Jack, Sydney.” She waited.

“You look good, Irina,” said Jack.

“Thanks, I feel better.”

“Mom, we think we might have found Nadia.”

Irina’s faced brightened with hope. “Where?”

“Argentina. It seems she’s an agent for Argentinean Intelligence.” Jack continued.

Irina gaped at them. “What?”

“We put in a request into their agency for Nadia’s location. They notified us yesterday that she was on assignment…in Russia.”

“Where is she now?” Irina asked numbly.

“A Russian prison camp for Chechnyan women.”

Irina stared. “Chyort! Do you know how long she’s been there and…why?”

“We understand she’s in hiding there. SVR were after her, so she got herself put there. SVR have no access or information regarding those prisoners. She evidently got out a message prior to disappearing.” Jack said. “Sydney is leaving tonight to…to find her.”

“Sydney, take care. Russian prisons are not like…like these.”

“I will, Mom, promise.” She smiled.

“Sloane?” Irina looked at Jack. “Has he surfaced?”

“No, not that anyone has heard or seen.” Jack smiled. “He’ll be caught. What…what are you doing these days?”

“Teaching prisoners so they can get GEDs.”

“Do you like it?”

She shrugged, “It makes the days go faster. It has more to offer than working in the laundry.”

“We’ve got to go,” said Sydney standing. She walked to the glass and put her hand on it.

Irina smiled, stood, and shuffled over to the glass wall, dragging the chair with her. “Lower your hand, sweetheart. These cuffs won’t let me go any higher. She looked at Sydney. “I do love you. Take care of yourself and bring your sister home.”

“I will. I love you too, Mom!” Sydney broke contact.

Irina stared at Jack who didn’t flinch as she smiled. “And you, Jack Bristow, I love you also…very much.”

Slowly, Jack placed his hand on the glass opposite hers. “Be careful, Irina.” He wished he could hold her, but that would not be possible again. She smiled, turned, and shuffled over to the door, dragging the chair with her. Jack turned and pushed the button to let the guards know the visit was over and they could take her back.

Jack stood watching as she disappeared into the depths of the prison.

TBC

Part 4
The Parting

Irina was sitting on her bed, notepad against her drawn-up knees. She was figuring out the lessons for the next week. The warden received it in advance. He was the one who censored anything that was not proper. So far, he was pleased with everything she was doing. It was now the fifth week of her teaching school and she found it immensely satisfying. She was known as The Professor to everyone she taught and to the general prison population.

Her thoughts turned for a moment to Jack and Sydney, especially Sydney. She heard nothing about the rescue of her daughter Nadia. Her heart jumped for the moment as she attempted to hide her feelings. All she had was the hope her eldest daughter was successful. Still, it was now two weeks since she Sydney and Jack had spoken and two weeks of anxiously waiting for any news.

She glanced at the small clock on the shelf at the head of her bunk. It was eight o’clock and she had only two hours to get the plan done right before it was time for the class. Her hours of teaching were ten to twelve in the morning and one to two-thirty in the afternoon. Irina re-read the course outline, frowning, trying to keep her mind focused on it. She could not think about Sydney or Nadia or anyone else—it was counter-productive to say the least.

She barely heard footsteps coming up the stairs a few feet away as she scribbled down what the lesson plan would be for Friday. Suddenly the noise stopped and she looked up to see two guards standing at the cell door. One of them signaled to the station below to open it.

“What?” She asked, as they stepped inside. One held chains.

“You have personal visitors.” The guard motioned her to stand up.

Irina’s heart began beating faster. Sydney and Jack…they had returned. She barely paid attention as they shackled her ankles and then put handcuffs on her wrists.

“Come on,” said the first guard.

Irina needed help down the stairs. Some of the prisoners were on the first floor, waiting for the work bell. They watched silently as she moved slowly, a guard on either side of her. She wished she could run, but had to be satisfied with the pace they were going. The prison doors opened and closed as the three moved to the prison’s visitor center. This was a private visit, which was brokered by Jack when Irina was returned to Federal Prison. For some reason and he sometimes wondered about it, he wanted private visits with Irina.

The guards opened the final door and put her into the chair facing the glass window. Again, one wrist handcuffed to it. Irina thought they were all paranoid about her ability to escape. Her only visitors were her family.

“Mom,” Sydney moved to the window. Jack stood behind her. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Sydney.” Irina took in two people. There was not a third. Her heart sank. Nadia was still in the Russian prison. “You didn’t get her out,” she stated quietly.

Sydney bit her lower lip and lowered her gaze. “Well, we did, but…”

“She’s not hurt is she?” Irina knew Russian prisons all too well. She knew a Chechnyan probably was no better.

“No! She was stolen or…” Sydney couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“…she went voluntarily,” finished Jack. “She is the Passenger, isn’t she? The conduit to Rambaldi’s consciousness or soul or whatever…”

Irina sucked in her breath and stared. “What happened?” She tried to keep Nadia safe from both the SVR and the CIA; now it seemed that plan had been shot to hell.

“Sydney found her and brought her out. Sloane got to her and…she disappeared with him.”

“That son of a bit*ch,” swore Irina. “Find her and get her back before he does any damage. Why are you here?”

“Sorry, Mom, we wanted you to know. Marshall’s on it. We’re going back to the office now.”

Irina struggled to her feet. “Get her back,” she snapped. “Tell the guards this visit is over!”


Irina had a terrible two weeks. She couldn’t concentrate and had difficulty teaching. She could not help thinking about Nadia and what Sloane was doing to her. She managed to fit in heavy workouts in the afternoons when the class was over. She visualized Sloane as the punching bag she used. One day she hit the bag in a series of punches so hard it dropped.

She sparred in the ring with two or three other women and even though they were using protective gear, she managed to drop them. In the gym, she was indefatigable working out for an hour before dinner and then after dinner. By the time it was lights out, she dropped into her bunk exhausted. She was in top physical shape once more. Perhaps, she mused, being in prison had its small advantages. Still she felt so helpless unable to do anything.

It was another week before she had any word at all. This time Jack came by himself. He looked sad and worried, more so than usual.

“Jack, what’s wrong?” Irina was handcuffed to the chair and she felt that he was about to tell her something she did not want to hear.

“Sydney’s been” he swallowed hard, “killed.”

Irina blinked. Her mind was trying to process the information…information she never expected to hear. “She’s what?”

Jack repeated himself…but he also took out his watch, pressed a button, and then added, “We have 30 seconds. Listen carefully, Sydney’s supposedly was burned to death in her apartment. I do not…I repeat…do not believe she is dead. Something else happened to her. I need your help.”

“How?” Irina’s mind had absorbed everything.

“I’m pursuing my contacts for any information. I need yours and some code word to let them know you are behind it.”

“I want out of here.”

“I know, but it’s impossible.”

She knew it too. “I’ll write you a letter…encrypted.”

Jack saw the second hand was at 30 seconds. “Irina, speak to me. I—I’m sorry I had to bring this news to you, but the CIA ran DNA tests and it was Sydney.”

Irina rose and dragged the chair to the window. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Jack, I would like you to hold me, but that’s impossible I know.” She leaned against the window, putting up her one free hand. He immediately put his right hand against hers. They stared at each other. She was sobbing. “Will…will they let me go to her funeral?”

“I’ll see what I can arrange.”


The day was one of those perfect days in Southern California. No smog and a light ocean breeze moved eastward over the coast and there was a cloudless bright blue sky above them. A group of men and two women waited on the dock next to a fishing vessel. Jack Bristow glanced at his watch, looking out toward the street. The van should be here by now. As if to punctuate his thoughts, a large van pulled up. Two men got out and moved to the back.

Those on the dock watched as Irina Derevko, Sydney Bristow’s mother, stepped out of a van and down to the dock. No one said anything, but Jack walked to her. He spoke quietly to the guards. They nodded and removed the shackles from her ankles. Handcuffs remained on her wrists. Jack took her arm and led her to the boat. Everyone else followed. Two minutes later, the boat got underway, heading out of the harbor to the ocean.

Irina and Jack stood together forward. The rest of the group gathered aft, including Michael Vaughn, the man who loved Sydney. No one spoke. Each was thinking about Sydney and the box of ashes at the foot of Jack’s feet. They could see Sydney’s parents standing together. Jack had his arm around the women who betrayed him so many years ago and then again more recently.

Alone at his request, Jack stood talking softly to Irina. He went over everything and everyone he had seen among his contacts. It had not been very many since Sydney had not been dead for more than a week.

“I’m going to leave tomorrow for overseas contacts. I have your letter. Is there a quick way to decrypt it?”

“Yes.” She told him the key. “I’ve listed my top men in Russia and Eastern Europe. I have more, but I think you should work with the idea that you will get your answer there.”

“Thanks. I know the body in the box at my feet is not Sydney. However, we both should show ‘proper’ respect for it. The others with us must not suspect we believe she is alive.”

“Yes. When will you return?”

“As soon as I get answers from our contacts. I cannot come back soon.”

“I know. A letter, perhaps?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

Irina sighed. She was not happy she could not physically help. She turned her head slightly and kissed him on the cheek. She did not give a damn what the others thought. “Thank you for arranging for me to be here.”

“It wasn’t hard, sweetheart,” he whispered, not realizing for the moment that he’d called her by the endearment he called her many times while they were man and wife. “Every prisoner is given that privilege when a close family member dies. The warden was glad to do it since you’ve been the model prisoner.”

She laughed silently. “Anyway, thank you.”

Among those on the boat was a minister. John Parkington knew Sydney when she was a little girl. He’d known Laura Bristow who had brought her daughter to church when she was four. He was, therefore, stunned to see her alive, having presided over her memorial a week after her death. He knew the body was never found, but he also knew six-year old Sydney needed comforting. Jack Bristow had contacted him and asked him to preside over the scattering of Sydney’s ashes at sea. John agreed.

The boat stopped. They were now about five miles out into the channel. It was far enough. The breeze was blowing eastward, so the Captain turned the boat around and dropped anchor. Jack asked everyone to come forward.

“I’ve asked the minister of the church Sydney attended as a little girl to say a few words and before I scatter her ashes, anything any of you want to say would be welcomed by Irina and me.”

Jack stepped to one side, keeping Irina by his side. The minister said what he always said when presiding over funerals. He did not know Sydney as an adult as she wasn’t a church going young woman, but she was, as he put it, “one of God’s children.” He said a prayer.

They all spoke. Marshall said Sydney was amazing; Carrie, who didn’t know her long, thought she was sweet. Weiss who said he lost a great friend, Kendall who said she was a wonderful young woman with so much potential, and finally, Vaughn, who said unashamedly that Sydney was loved beyond what he’d ever told her and he apologized for not telling her. There were tears on his face as he spoke.

Jack stepped forward and picked up the box. He opened the container inside, took it in both his hands, and threw it out. Sydney’s ashes flew out into the wind, which took them up and away dropping them into the sea. “Goodbye, Sydney, Daddy will miss you.” He said quietly. He put the box and container down, holding Irina.

“Goodbye, sweetheart, I’ll love you forever.” Irina said softly.

Wow! That was very moving. I'm glad to see J/I so determined, but too bad she can't get out. She would be more help then. Wonder where Syd was during the funeral. Did she see or hear them? Can't wait for more!

I love irina's "dangerous minds' teaching style and is brenda lewis in any way named for me ??? :blink:

If no then OK but if yes I hope she will do me proud and be a model student


as for ch 4 - that was touching - I could feel like I was on the boat - feeling the breezes and smelling the salty air

Brenda

Part 5
Lost and Found

Irina returned to Federal Prison after the funeral and resumed her teaching duties. She was becoming a respected member of the prison population. As a teacher, she garnered more respect than most plus the fact that crossing her was dangerous. The story circulated around the prison that The Professor could whip ass.

She proved it during the time she spent in the gym lifting weights and running the treadmill for a good two hours. She left the classroom about two-thirty and went to the gym to work out. She’d already flattened several younger women, who aspired to a life in the ring when they were free. Irina’s decking them was a wake-up call. She always spoke to them afterward reminding each that a degree from high school would help them get a job.

In the three months after Sydney’s death, Irina received three letters from Jack. Each one contained no information about Sydney’s being alive. She was irritated by the no-news. She agreed with Jack after they spoke together on the return to the dock that Sydney was alive and kidnapped for some terrible reason. Irina, when working out, constantly went over what that reason might be.

A year later, Jack disappeared. He wrote no more letters to Irina. His last known whereabouts was in Washington D.C. His letter then said he was returning to Los Angeles and that he would see her as soon as he could with news. He did not come. Irina, who did not show it, was frantic. What happened to him? She had no way of finding it out. She was stuck without one person to tell her what happened to Jack.

Then she remembered…Marshall Flinkman. He adored Sydney and was a bit frightened of Jack. He thought Irina was tough. Maybe she could write him a letter and ask him to come to the prison to see her…privately. She wrote the letter.


Marshall Flinkman showed up. Irina would have to see him in the regular visitors’ room. No private meeting allowed because he wasn’t family. There were a few women present talking to their visitors. Marshall sat nervously in front of the screen. He picked up the telephone when he saw her. Irina sat down, did the same, and smiled.

“Mr. Flinkman, I’m happy you come to see me.” She flashed him one of her famous warm smiles.

“Glad to do it. You sounded…er…disturbed in your let…letter.”

Irina leaned forward slightly indicating it was for an intimate reason. “Marshall, you might be able to help. Where’s my husband?”

“H…h…husband?” He brightened. “Oh…Jack?” He did not look happy.

“Of course. Where is he? What happened to him?”

“G…g…gosh, Ms. Derevko, he’s in prison…solitary I heard.”

Irina froze. “Why?”

“The NSC found out he was talking to known contacts of the SVR without permission.”
Marshall was clearly speaking without a stutter. “I think it was unfair. Robert Lindsey, the head of NSC, is a mean s…son…of…a…bit*ch.” He stuttered. “He’s running the JTF now. He…he…he said Jack was a traitor working for the SVR and Jack said he…he…he was crazy. I d…d…did…not see it, but Weiss said Jack knocked Lindsey down.”

Irina smiled a little, leaning back in the chair. “Thank you, Marshall. I appreciate your taking time to see me. I want to thank you for the things you did for Sydney…to keep her safe when she was on assignment.”

Marshall blushed, “She was amazing.”

“I know.” Irina stood, indicating the interview was over.


Irina knew there was nothing she could do now, but wait. She was glad Jack was alive. She had that to hold onto. Subsequently she threw herself into her teaching. It did take her mind off Jack’s predicament. Why had he acted so rashly? Hitting Lindsey didn’t help his cause. Sydney, where was she? Did Jack find out anything? His last letter told her he was going to find a Russian diplomat, Aidan Lazeray. She wondered what Jack had in mind.

She buried herself in her work, teaching her classes with zeal. She took nothing from the other prisoners. They would get their GEDs. She also took nothing from the few women who still tried to take her down. She was indefatigable in the gym and her muscle strength and quickness returned to its normal capacity that she had before Sydney shot her.


At breakfast that morning, Brenda Lewis who was now a friend of Irina sat beside her. “Hey, Professor.” No one called Irina by her name anymore.

“Good morning, Brenda.” Irina fixed her tea.

“Listen, I got some news for you.” She took a sip of the coffee. “New prisoner and she’s Russian.”

Irina glanced at her, “Name?”

“Olga Andropova.”

Irina’s right eyebrow rose showing interest. “Is she American?”

“Nope. Word is she’s a spy.”

“Really?” Irina took a bite of the pancake she had on her fork. “How do you know that?” She did not look at Brenda, waiting.

Brenda went on to explain one of the trustee’s in the warden’s office had heard the Captain of the guards talking to the warden about where to put her. “What was interesting was your name came up. They put her in Cellblock C instead of here. They did not want you to mix.”

“Well, I don’t know Olga Andropova, so it doesn’t matter. You have your homework done?” Irina sounded neutral, disinterested, and changed the subject.

“Yes’m, I do.” Brenda grinned.


Later that afternoon, Irina went to the gym for her routine workout session. She changed clothes and entered the gym. She was surprised to see another woman there. Usually all the prisoners were at work, either in the kitchen or in the laundry or the hospital. However, most of the prisoners became seamstresses, taught by a couple of their own who once worked as one before committing the crime that imprisoned them. So seeing someone not at work was a surprise.

Irina nodded at her, heading for the treadmill. She usually ran for five miles before working out with weights. Glancing at the other woman, she noted she was in a Bow flex-type machine working on knee strength exercises. Irina did some stretching on the machine. She tossed a towel around her neck. Then she set speed and time. She should be able to do five miles in forty minutes. She did wish they had a track they could run around, but then that was too much to hope for, especially in a prison.

There was a clock on the wall ahead of her and she was watching it as her legs moved smoothly on the treadmill. She was cognizant however of something odd. She did not hear the weight machine used as it had earlier. Irina did not pause nor did she stop. She glanced sideways at the window to her left. In a fluid unannounced move, she did a forward flip off the machine as the other woman in the gym attacked her.

“Son of a bit*ch,” thought Irina as she caught a glimpse of something flashing in the woman’s hand. She took off, heading for the ring, which was on the other end of the room. She knew she had the speed to get there before the other woman could reach her.

At the ring, she vaulted over the ropes. Inside it, she had room to take down her attacker. Irina backed up into the center and watched as the younger woman jumped over the ropes, knife in her right hand. Irina wondered how the hell she managed to get that! The only knives she knew about were in the kitchen and there was no way it could have left there without security bells ringing.

Irina noticed the woman had not thrown the knife at her. For a moment, she wondered why and then she realized she probably didn’t know how. Mentally Irina thanked her lucky stars and she knew from many life experiences she had. She watched the other woman gage her distance. They had about eight feet separating them. Irina did not move from her position, but fell into a semi-crouched stance feet spread slightly and arms hanging loose. She did not want her attacker to know what she was going to do.

“What do you want,” asked Irina, her eyes never leaving those of the other woman.

“Pizda!” The woman spoke perfect Russian, calling Irina by a terrible name.

“Ah, Olga Andropova, I presume.” Irina didn’t move.

“Da.” She leapt forward in a sudden move, knife flashing.

Irina pivoted as the knife passed by her. She grabbed Olga’s knife arm and pulled her around hard, throwing her into the ropes. Olga staggered and rushed again, but this time threw herself feet first into Irina, who once again pivoted, but this time, slammed her elbow into Olga’s knee, she dropped with a grunt of pain and came up instantly, knife at the ready. Irina moved back a little, circling Olga, and staying in the center of the ring. She took only a moment to wonder where the guards were. There was usually one or two nearby to keep an eye on those in the gym.

Olga circled her, now warned that her target was not an easy one. Irina Derevko might be twenty years older than she was, but she was in excellent physical shape and no stranger to knife fights or fights of any kind. For a brief moment, she wanted to kill the man who sent her to the prison to kill Derevko.

“Do you really want to die,” asked Irina? She was not going to lose this fight. “Who sent you?”

“Sookin sin…” Olga managed to swear. She lunged and as Irina again pivoted, lashing out with her leg, Olga dodged and managed to swipe Irina across her back with the knife.

Irina felt the sting and knew Olga wasn’t going to stop for conversation. “Very well,” She thought as she moved to her left on the balls of her feet as a fighter would. She recognized the move Olga had done and knew where she trained and probably where. She danced around Olga who now had the center of the ring. She could see Olga feeling confident, especially since she drew first blood. Irina grinned at the other woman. This might be fun.

Olga attacked. Irina waited a second and then moved to her left, snapping a punch to her face and dancing away. She waited another second and then moved again inside and snapped another punch to her face, as Olga swiped at her with her knife. Irina danced away, now taking possession of the center of the ring.

“You are so pitiful,” growled Irina in Russian.

“I’m not bleeding, you are,” snapped Olga.

“I guess I’d better finish this off and get some help.” Irina said the words as she swept her leg at Olga’s left knee. She buckled, falling to the ground. Irina kicked her right hand, causing the knife to fall to the floor. Irina wasted not a second, jumping on, and straddling Olga. She swept the knife up in her right hand.

“Watch!” Irina flipped the knife, which imbedded itself in the padded post. “You are this far from being dead by my hand.” She moved to her left, flipping Olga over onto her stomach. She slipped her forearm under the woman’s jaw. Her right knee pressed down on her upper spine. She was helpless and Irina could snap her neck in a split second.

“Wait…don’t…I know something.” Olga felt herself going limp as Irina’s arm pressed against her throat and the carotid artery. “Sydney Bristow…”

Irina froze. “What about her!” She moved swiftly, taking her knee off Olga’s back, and flipped her over, but keeping her forearm tight against the other woman’s throat.

“She’s your daughter, right?” She rasped, relieved to have the knee off her back.

“What about her,” Irina bared her teeth and her eyes had turned black with rage.

“She’s alive.”

”Where?” Irina snarled.

“Moscow. The Covenant has her.”

TBC

Part 6
Escape

Irina lessened the pressure slightly on Olga’s throat. She found out Sydney was alive while she was in prison. How crazy was that? She leaned forward, putting her mouth to Olga’s ear.

“You know who I am?”

“Irina Derevko.”

“Do you know anything about me personally?” Irina’s voice was soft, guttural.

“You were a KGB agent.” No one told Olga anything about this woman. Her employers were shitheads. They paid her a lot of money to kill Derevko.

“Why did you take the job?”

“Money. My family needed it. I have children.”

Irina grimaced. “Where are your children?”

“Home. St. Petersburg.”

“How long were you sentenced for?”

Olga groaned. Her back hurt. Irina kept her knee in place. “Two to five years. Possession to sell. First offense.”

Irina moved her arm. “So with good behavior, you would be out in a few months.”

“Yes. They paid me a hundred thousand Euros for the job.”

“Did you get the money up front?”

“Half.”

“Don’t count on getting the rest of it.” Irina took her knee away and stood quickly. She turned, walking to the post where the knife was. “Do your time, get out, and go home.” She whirled to face Olga who was standing now. “I’m keeping the knife. How did you get the knife through Security?”

“It was here, waiting for me. I was told to look behind the toilet in my cell. It was taped there.”

So someone else here, a guard possibly, had been paid to deliver the knife. Irina knew now she had to be twice as careful, especially since Olga talked. “Who ordered the hit?”

“The Covenant. They are afraid of you.”

“I’m in prison. I pose no threat.”

“They wanted to be sure, I think.”

Irina laughed. “Now, they have reason to be. Go back to your cellblock. Be careful. Whoever arranged for you to get the knife, won’t hesitate to save their own ass. Understand?” Olga nodded. “Don’t come near me again. Do your time. Are they going to deport you?”

“Yes, when I am free.”

Irina tucked her hair behind her ear. “Go.”

“You’re bleeding.” Olga remembered the knife slash.

“It’s only a scratch. Go and don’t talk to me again or come near me.” Irina’s voice was calm and non-threatening, but Olga knew the tone meant Irina Derevko would make her pay if she did.


Irina made it back to her cell without anyone noticing the blood on her shirt or the cut in the cloth. She stripped and put on the robe she bought with her earnings as a teacher. The slash was waist high and she was able to wash away the blood, which congealed. It was just a scratch, she knew, but still there was blood on her shirt and some on the waistband of her pants. She soaked some of it off; then put the pants and shirt into the laundry bag. She sat on her bunk, drew her legs up, and crossed them. She needed to meditate and to plan.


Aaron Tchaikov sat waiting in the Visitors Room for his client, Irina Derevko. He was not going to miss the meeting. He was aware who Irina Derevko was and did not want to be at the wrong end of her anger. Still, he’d been paid well for years to look after her interests in Southern California. He was the lawyer of record when she went on trial in Los Angeles previously last year. She was returned to the custody of the CIA and then she escaped. Sydney, her daughter, recaptured her after just a few days. Now she was back in Federal Prison and had been so for about a year or more.

The door opened and Irina Derevko was escorted to the chair. She sat down and picked up the communication phone.

“Good to see you, Aaron.”

“I came as soon as I got the message.” He smiled. “Is there trouble?”

“No, but I need a favor.”

“Anything legal I shall be happy to accommodate you.” He laughed. As if she would ask him to do anything underhanded.

“Do you have your notebook?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t write this. Remember it. 555-1877…someone will answer. Just tell them that Irina Derevko wants to place a bet on the 11th horse in the third race at Santa Anita.”

“You gamble on the horses?” Aaron was surprised.

“Occasionally, especially when I hear something.” She grinned. “However, I would suggest you don’t bet on that horse since you would be very mad at me if it lost.”

“I don’t bet.”

“Good.” She leaned back in her chair. “Have you been getting your checks?”

“Yes…and thank you.”

“The accounts?”

“Collecting steadily and posted to your bank account. I’ve transferred every three months to the account in Hong Kong.” He wondered what happened to the money after that.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him warmly. “You are a good attorney. Make sure you place the bet today.”

“Yes…and you, Ms Derevko, are an extraordinary client. Probably the best I’ve ever had.” He put the phone down, saluted her with a wink and left.

Irina smiled and left the room.


Irina held the lesson plans in her hand. She was being escorted to the doctor’s office. At his request, Dr. Mac wanted to recheck her once before closing his file. She waited in the examination room, this time alone. He entered minutes later and asked her to remove just her shirt. When she did, he checked the healed shoulder wound, but also noticed the long thin scab across her lower back.

“What happened?”

“I scratched my back on a piece of wire that came loose in my chair.”

“Hummm!” He was quiet for a moment and then went to the cupboard. He took out a small envelope. “Take this pill. It will quell any lingering infection.”

She nodded. Stuffing the envelope in the pocket of her jacket, she said, “Is that all? I’m due in the warden’s office.”

“Go on.” He started writing in her chart.

Irina left with the guard following her. They walked through two sets of doors and to the administration building. In the outer office, Irina stood waiting. She remembered the pill and asked for some water. She had finished the glass of water when the Warden stepped out of his office.

“Morning, sir,” said Irina. She held out a sheaf of papers.

“Good morning, Ms. Derevko. These are for the month?”

“Yes sir, I finished them and…” Without warning, Irina pitched forward on her face.

“Get Dr. Mac,” yelled the warden to his secretary. He kneeled down and turned her over. She was unconscious.

Thirty minutes later an ambulance pulled through the gates. Two paramedics disembarked and ran inside with their gear to the warden’s office.

Dr Jones ushered them into the room. “This prisoner has suffered some type of seizure. I think it’s a heart attack. We don’t have the facilities here for more than cursory care. I’ve put an oxygen mask on as you can see.” He rattled off her blood pressure, temperature. “Have her be seen by Dr. Franks at San Pedro Memorial. Two guards will be going with you.”

“Get her on the gurney,” said the black man, indicating to his partner to pick her up by the feet while he took her by the shoulders.

Three minutes later two EMTs and one guard were in the back of the ambulance along with the patient, Irina Derevko. Up front, the second guard rode with the driver. The ambulance siren screamed its warning to traffic as it plowed its way through toward the hospital. Suddenly the siren stopped, the vehicle swerved left. As it did so, the driver shot the guard with him and the black EMT did the same to the guard riding in the back.

The ambulance pulled into the warehouse and the doors shut down. The two men in the back pulled Irina out of the truck. The driver disembarked from the vehicle. They stood for a moment not saying anything, looking down at the CIA’s number six most wanted criminal. They just helped her escape a federal prison. If they were found out, they probably would take her place.

“What now,” said the short man?

“She should be coming out of it very soon,” answered the black man.

As if to confirm his statement, Irina Derevko slowly opened her dark eyes, looking up into the worried face of Marshall Flinkman. “What happened to me…” she murmured surprised.

“We need your help.” The black man stooped beside her. “My name is Marcus Dixon. I was Sydney’s partner while she was at SD-6. You know Marshall. The other man here is Eric Weiss. He’s a good friend of Sydney’s and Michael Vaughn. As I said, we need your help. Marshall told us he saw you a few days ago and that you wanted to know about Jack?”

She nodded.

“Then you already know he is in prison…solitary…for insubordination and possible treason. Two days ago, Marshall got a message that Sydney is alive, believed to be somewhere in Europe. He doesn’t know if Jack sent the message via a contact or someone else. We want you to find your daughter.”

Irina sat up. “How the hell did you manage to get me out?”

“Money can do a lot.”

She nodded. She rolled off the gurney, standing. “I need clothes and a car.”

“I g…got some from my…my sister,” answered Marshall and he pointed to a table where some clothes sat neatly folded. “Sh…sh…she’s much taller than I.”

“Eric has a driver’s license for you and money. What can we do to get you to Europe?”

“Nothing,” she said. “The car?”

“That small Ford Focus over there belonged to Sydney. Marshall’s been using it for the last year or so. You can use it now. Just tell me where you leave it.”

Irina smiled and walked to the table with the clothes. She began stripping off the prison blues she’d been wearing. The three men quickly turned around. Irina almost laughed a loud when she saw them, but then shrugged and continued to strip then put on the other clothes. She picked up keys from the table and the wallet with a driver’s license and money. There was even a passport. She looked inside. Not a bad picture she thought. She pulled on the leather jacket and stuffed a pocket with the wallet and passport. There was also a cell phone. She would use it once and then discard it.

“All right, gentlemen, I’m ready to go. I will send you a message via Marshall. It will take me approximately two days to reach Moscow. Don’t ask me how.”

“Evidently you won’t be using a regular airline,” said Dixon.

“Perhaps! Still the less all of you know, the safer you will be. I will keep you posted.” She walked toward the small blue car.

“You have about three hours to get out of town. As soon as they know you’ve escaped, the FBI and CIA will have all ways out blocked.”

“I know. Thank you. I promise I will find her.” Irina waved as she sat in the driver’s seat of the Focus and turned on the engine.

The three men turned to watch her drive out of the garage. “God,” said Dixon, “I hope we did the right thing.”

Eric smiled, “I’d hate to be the guys who took Sydney. I think Mom is pissed.”

Marshall giggled. “She’ll find her. I know sh…sh…she will.”

“Yeah, well let’s get everything out of here. The guards will be waking up in a couple of hours and we don’t want anything inside or out of the truck to identify us.”

Two hours later, Irina sat beside her pilot in the Lear jet she owned. They were flying to Anchorage. She was on her way home to Moscow.

TBC
:lol:

My gosh I love that woman

the most resourceful human being on the planet

:D

Part 7
Moscow

Irina strode along the parkway. She took a bus from the airport to the hotel. She got out and began walking. She thrust her hands deep into the pockets of the leather jacket and strode purposefully down the street. Irina wanted to think about the problem. The Covenant had Sydney—that was the only fact she knew. Now she had to find the bastards. Where to start was easy…within her organization.

She pulled out a new cell phone and made the call. “Grigor, it’s me.”

Fifteen minutes later the black Mercedes sedan pulled up and she entered. Settling herself in the leather seat, she made another call. “Dimitri, its Irina. Stay where you are. I’ll call back in a hour.” She said nothing more and shut the cell off.

“Is good to see you, Irina ,” said the deep voice of Grigor from the driver’s side.

“I’m glad to be back.”

“Where were you? We not hear from you for long time.”

Irina glanced out the window. “In an American prison.”

“Son of a bi*tch,” said Grigor. “How that happen?”

“Doesn’t matter…I’m here because some of Sydney’s friends decided only I could find her if she was alive.”

“Sydney is hurt?”

“I don’t know, but the circumstances of her disappearance are highly suspect by me, by Jack and now, by her friends.” She explained the fire and the findings. “Jack is in solitary confinement. They think he’s been communicating with SVR agents, which was unauthorized, so he was arrested.”

“He know you here?”

Irina shook her head and said, “No, but I must find Sydney. She’s been missing now for over a year.”

Grigor pulled the car up to the apartment building. Irina quickly entered and went up the stairs. She felt the need of a long shower. There had been little privacy in prison and she wanted the luxury of having one without pairs of eyes watching. She ripped off her clothes and turned on the water…cold first, then hot. She sat down letting the water pour down over her head and body. She reveled in the fact she could have more than ten minutes under the hot water.
Finished, she pulled herself out and toweled herself off. She walked quickly to the desk in the corner of the room. Rummaging in the top drawer, she pulled out a cell phone and pushed a number.

“Dimitri, it’s me.” She listened. “I know. I want to see you as soon as possible…a half-hour? Very well, call me when you get to the café. I’ll be there within ten minutes.”
She cut off the conversation. She dialed another number.


Grigor and Irina sat in a car that no one knew was Irina Derevko’s as it was made in Russia and not a very good one. It was serviceable and took her to and from destinations when she had a special need to be invisible to the curious. This was such a time. She had to be sure about Dimitri. She had been away too long not to be careful.

They were two blocks up the street from the café where she was going to meet him. She sent Grigor to the alley a block away with the cell Irina gave him. He had a clear view of the rear entrance. He was to make sure of no surprises.

“So far, is good.” He whispered.

“Good.” Irina’s eyes stayed locked onto the block with the café. At the appointed time, a small thin man walked down the street coming from the direction the car was parked. Irina made contact with Grigor and waited. As Dimitri walked by the car, Irina got out, opened the rear door, and pulled him inside with her. In less than three minutes, Grigor got behind the wheel and drove off. Dimitri was surprised.

“What…what’s wrong?” He cried, nervously.

“I’m being cautious. I do not want anyone but you to know I am in town.” She stared at him. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“N…no, Irina, you pay me too well even when you are away.”

She smiled, knowing that he was one of her inner circle and that he was loyal. She was sure he liked being paid for doing nothing, but now it would change. She needed him and his knowledge to fill her in for the time she was in prison, although she would not tell him about that.

“Who runs Moscow now,” she asked.

“Crime bosses?”

“Names, Dimitri?”

“The Covenant at least that is what everyone is talking about these days. Blackmail, gunrunning, prostitution, and drugs are what they make big money from and they have a big organization with lots of muscle. I bet half the goons in Moscow work for them. They also have some big-time muscle on their payroll. I hear they do assassinations also, for seven figures.”

Irina’s eyes narrowed. Assassinations were something KGB agents were trained to do. She was well aware of some KGB personnel turning to crime when they were let go from SVR when it became Russia’s new intelligence agency. It was a job she also trained to do when she was KGB. She did not want to think about it now, but she did have a hunch.

“Do they train their personnel? I mean, the Covenant trains their men or women to do that type of job. It takes someone smart, fearless, and dedicated to be,” she paused, almost wincing, “an assassin.”

“Yeah, they get specialists.” Dimitri answered.

“Can you find out more?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, Irina, but I am not Covenant and there is a code with them. They do not give out names of their ‘assassins’.”

“You are moving tomorrow night.” Irina needed Dimitri to work with Grigor and her if she was going to find Sydney.

“Where?” Dimitri was surprised. “We have good apartment.”

“You are moving to my building. Grigor, tomorrow night he must be gone from the old one and into the new own. Number 15, is it available?”

“Yes, Irina.”

“Now tell me Dimitri, one name of one Covenant bully.”

“I can give you two. Boris Staski and Petr Romovsky.”


Three nights later Dimitri and his wife were happily moved into Apartment 15 in Irina Derevko’s building. He was on the third floor rear. His wife could not believe their luck and although she would miss her friends, she would make new ones. She was well aware of who Dimitri’s boss was and knew not to talk. The money he made was too good.

The next afternoon, from a cell, a call was made to a certain bar in the southern part of Moscow. Dimitri relayed the message to Grigor, who would be his contact from this time forward. Irina wanted no calls traced back to her apartment. Grigor gave her the information.

“Ummm, then it will be tonight. We have to have him disappear. There must be no trace of him anywhere.”

That night about one o’clock, Petr Romovsky left the bar he inhabited and disappeared. A half hour later, in an abandoned warehouse nearby, Petr was tied to a chair. A single light bulb shown dim light down on him as he slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he saw was a pair of booted leather-clad legs, standing in front of him. As he raised his head, however, he saw no more than top of the man’s belt.

“What the fu*ck is going on…let me go…I’ll kill you…” His voice gathered strength.

A gloved hand holding a grenade appeared in front of him. “You are the son of a whore. You are going to die.” The other hand appeared and pulled the pin, holding the release by a thumb.

Sweat beaded on Petr’s face. “Shit! Don’t…are you crazy?”

“Who is your boss?”

“What? No…I don’t know.”

The voice was low, thick, and resonant. “I do not care about you. You will die most unpleasantly if you do not tell me.” The thumb holding the release slowly moved. “You have seconds to live.”

Petr stared fixedly at the thumb. Seconds seemed like hours. He was struck dumb, his mind numb from the consequences when it happened. He gasped as he saw the hand release the grenade. It fell into his lap, sitting there. The ‘legs’ disappeared. He screamed and screamed…and screamed, his heart racing, his lungs gasping for air…

Grigor was laughing hard when he walked up to the nearly blubbering Romovsky. “You wet your pants and,” he sniffed, “I bet you shit them too!” He picked up the grenade and stuck the pin back into it. “The name…or the next time, it is real…maybe Molotov!” He leaned down, gripping Petr’s shirt. “The name you idiot!”

“Ilyich Stoli.”

“Where does he live?”

“I-I don’t know. When he wants me to do something, he calls.”

“Good.” Grigor looked into the darkness and nodded. “Okay, good boy.” He broke his neck.


With Ilyich Stoli, they hit pay dirt, not only did they learn the name of his boss, but also he volunteered the name of a man who was higher up in the chain of command. It was an accident he found out, but he was one the chiefs of the Covenant, Serge Balcinesky, also known as the Molotov Cocktail in his lesser days stealing guns. Grigor broke his neck and disposed of the body while Irina talked to Dimitri.

“What do you know about Serge?”

“He’s a stinking rat. Before he hooked up with the Covenant, he was a low-life who couldn’t do much but scramble for money.”

“Why is he the head of the Russian division?”

Dimitri shrugged. “Maybe I better check around before we do anything.”

“Definitely.” She smiled, “but be careful.”

“Of course.”

Two nights later Irina was working at her computer when Dimitri called. “I have the information on Serge.”

“Come over.”

She poured Dimitri a shot of Stoli as he entered and sat down. “Thanks.” He swallowed the drink. “Serge masterminded the robbery at the 125th armory a year ago. He was the only man left standing in a gun battle between the army guards and the men sent to rob the armory.

“He supposedly returned to Moscow with a hundred million dollars worth of arms. The Covenant was impressed. He’s been the man put in charge of their gun running operations here in this country.”

“So he’s a weapons man.”

“Yes, Irina.”

“Good work. Where does he live?”

“Here.” He handed her a slip of paper, “I wrote it down.”


Irina needed to know more about Serge and the Covenant. She had Grigor shadow Serge for three days to see what he did and where he went and, most important, how many guards went with him. She in turn was busy with the computer and finally was able to hack into the server that the Covenant used in Russia. There, moving about freely, she came upon the name Oleg Matrijik, behavioral specialist. She frowned. Now why would the Covenant have use for a behavioral scientist? Irina kept looking, but found nothing more about him except where he lived. She also found he had been paid an extraordinary amount of money for something he’d done recently.

Irina sat up knowing exactly what kind of doctor he was. She was going to pay him a visit soon, but first she wanted to take care of Serge Balcinesky. He would know where Sydney was if he was one of the council members of the Covenant.

She already knew exactly how he would end up and where.

TBC :D

do. not.mess. with. derevko.

excellent fic as always

brenda

AN: There’s a little R here in this story, but so minor that I don’t believe it really counts.


Part 8
Gun Runner

Serge Balcinesky rode in of his black Hummer with three guards. He was on his way to a club he frequented nightly. He loved his work and the fact he had money to pay for his partying. The Russian head of the Covenant sat in the back seat, smoking a Cuban cigar and drinking from an open bottle of vodka. He was on top of the world.

The Hummer drove down the connecting street toward the nightclub. The headlights suddenly picked up a woman leaning inside the trunk of her old car looking for something. She was wearing a short red dress, stiletto red heels and not much else underneath. Her hair was chestnut brown with auburn highlights and she was tall.

“Slow down.” Serge looked out the window as the woman turned. His breath caught. “Stop.” She was strikingly beautiful with wide red lips, dark eyes, and gleaming white teeth that sparkled when she smiled at him. He opened the back door. The guard in the front seat stepped out with this AK-47 at the ready.

“My dear lady, what is wrong?” Serge was a cautious man so he did nothing more. “Can I be of assistance?”

“My tire is flat over on the right front. If you could help me I would be so grateful.” The woman’s voice was low and seductive. “Very grateful…”

Serge swallowed, his imagination jumping to the idea of how grateful she would be. “Is there some place I could take you?” My bed, he thought hopefully.

“I hope you won’t think ill of me, but I am a dancer at the club on the next street. I think it’s about a quarter of a mile away. It’s my first night and I’m going to be late.”

“I’m on my way there. Come, we’ll drive you.” He looked at the guard beside him. “You go with David and fix her car. Bring it to the club when you are through.”

“But…”

“No buts…do it!” He tried to sound tough and in control. The guard mumbled and left the Hummer to join David. “Come on, get inside.” Serge stepped down and offered his hand to her.

“Thank you. My name is Irina.”

“Serge Balcinesky, at your service.” He bowed in what he thought was a courtly manner and followed her up into the vehicle. His eyes were glued to her back and the long legs with the red stilettos. He licked his lips thinking about what might lie ahead for him in the evening. He did not expect what did happen.

“Go on,” he said to the driver.

The Hummer pulled out into the street, traveling at a safe speed. Serge had eyes only for the woman whose luminous dark eyes danced with anticipation. Serge licked his lips. He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’m glad I could be of service.”

“I will be in your debt forever,” she said softly, noticing he had eyes only for the neckline, which revealed the fullness of her breasts. She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. “It will be my pleasure to repay your kindness.”

Serge felt his blood surge toward his groin. God, he thought, I want her…now.
“How about…now?”

She smiled, reaching for his belt buckle and loosening it. She could see the erection growing. “Now?”

The driver was watching through the rear view mirror. He was having his own problems and wondered if he would get a chance at her. Suddenly without warning, a shot was fired and the driver fell forward onto the steering wheel. He was not going fast, so the huge car simply slowed and plowed into a parked car.

In the back seat, however, Serge was pulled hard into the window next to Irina. It momentarily stunned him and before he could pull his gun, he felt a pinprick and lost consciousness.


It was two hours later when Serge woke up. He was hanging from the ceiling. His clothes except his underwear were gone. A single light bulb was positioned in front of him. He stared, trying to see beyond the light. He saw nothing. When he got loose, the woman would pay with her life, but not before he got what he wanted.

“Where are you, pizda?” He screamed.

“I’m here,” a voice said softly. A woman sat down on a chair just outside the circle of light.

“Let me down. You don’t know who you are dealing with. You will die slowly when I get you.” He heard a throaty laugh.

“Now how do you suppose you are going to get down?”

Serge growled, but said nothing. He had no idea unless threats worked and he was beginning to think that was not going to happen. “Let me down. Nothing will happen.”

“No, I think not, little man.” The voice became a figure as the woman he had given a ride to, stood up into the light. “I will let you down only if I get the information I want.”

“Fu*ck you,” he snarled.

“Your courage is only a temporary thing.” She walked over and now he saw the syringe in her hand. She put her left hand on his buttock. “This syringe is filled with a toxin that likes to flow to here,” she moved the left hand over to his manhood. “It surges and then withdraws the blood from smaller vessels. When it does,” she patted the penis. “It will become smaller and there will be great pain as it shrivels.” She squeezed his balls. “You will experience hot flashes.”

Serge gasped, because he was beginning to feel heat and desire. He shouldn’t, he thought, but the damn woman was caressing, touching it. He whimpered. “Get away…don’t.”

“I want the information and you will give it to me.” She pulled off his jockey shorts, releasing the erection. “Now just hold still while…”

“No,” he screamed. He tried thrashing with his legs, but from behind him someone grabbed a hold of his thighs so he could not move.

“Yes…” she carefully inserted the needle an inch above his penis and injected the toxin.

“Wait,” he gasped.

“I just want you to see what is going to happen unless I give you the anti-toxin.” She stood back as the unseen man behind him let him go. Serge stared down as the erection began to shrivel. Heat flushed his entire body and pain began hitting in waves that grew stronger with every second.

“Noooo, stop…” He gasped. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

The woman picked up another syringe and injected the fluid into his thigh. It took a few seconds, but the pain and heat went away. She smiled at him. “See, it’s easy once you are agreeable.”

She sat in the chair. “Let’s see now, I have several questions and I want truthful answers. If I think you are lying to me, I will inject you again and leave you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“You are a member of the Covenant and the Russian boss?”

“Yes. They’ll get you.”

“Now, now, that wasn’t nice of you. Next, Oleg Matrijik…where is he?”
“I don’t know.”

“He brainwashed Sydney Bristow for the Covenant. He’s your go-to-man in that department. You should know.”

“Only one member of the directors knows.”

“Who?”

“I swear I don’t know. It’s a random draw. I wasn’t the one.”

“What name/identity did he give to her?”

“Julia…Julia Thorne.”

“Where is she?”

“Romania in Bucharest at least that was where she was to be this week. She is assigned to assassinate a crime boss there. The Covenant is moving in.”

“Any particular hotel?”

He shrugged. “That I do not know, I swear.”

“How is she paid?”

“We set up an account for her. Money is transferred there. After that, we don’t know where it goes.”

She stood up and looked at him, a small smile playing on her face. “Very well, Serge, you have done well and I believe you.” She nodded to the man behind him. Serge was again held around the thighs. The woman picked up the syringe with the toxin in it, inserted it, and injected the fluid.

Serge stared dumbfounded. “I told the truth.” The flushing began.

“Yes, I know, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t intend to punish you.” She took the anti-toxin syringe, dropped it on the floor, and stomped on it.

Serge felt the pain begin and the throbbing in his penis told him the blood was being drawn out. He felt it shrivel and sucked dry. He began to whimper as the pain hit him in ever-increasing amounts.

“Who are you?” He screamed.

“Irina Derevko.” She again nodded to the man behind him.

Serge stared in shock. She was missing according to all reports, possibly dead. What the hell? He screamed as the pain became intense and sharp. “Why do you care?” He managed the question.

“I’m Sydney’s mother.” She said somberly. “Someone should have warned the Covenant.”

“Let me go,” he screamed, gasping as pain became unbearable.

“No…you are going to die, Serge. I’m dismantling the Covenant from the top down, starting with you.” She motioned to the man behind him. “Cover him in the back as well as the front.” She glanced up. “He’s out. It will be easier if he doesn’t move.” She stood watching as Grigor covered Serge with warm melted cheese from the top of his head to his toes.

“I think rats have a good meal tonight,” he said tossing the roller away. He pulled the chair over and let Serge’s feet drop into the bucket with the cheese. Laughing, he followed Irina Derevko out into the night.


The Moscow police were baffled. Four homicides…four known members of the Covenant had been killed over a space of four days. There was no lead and no evidence of the perpetrators. They, of course, did not care much. Four less vermin to watch… Whoever did it was the unknown recipient of their gratitude.

TBC -_-

irina irina

you are incorrigible my dear

Part 9
Gaspart Girozny

Irina left Dimitri with instructions regarding information she needed. He said he would do his best for her, but it might take more than a day.

“That doesn’t matter. I want information and action. I will be back in twenty-four hours.”

It was three in the morning after the night with Serge. The building in downtown Moscow was prestigious and there were many wealthy renters. There was a bank on the first floor and several oil companies rented space on the second, third and fourth floors. The fifth floor housed a CNN broadcast station. There were other renters on the next ten floors, but the sixteenth floor belonged to the owners of the building, The Covenant.

Irina and Grigor stopped the elevator on the fifteenth. Leaving it, they went to the stairwell and Irina picked the lock. She did the same on the sixteenth stairwell entrance. The offices were dark. She knew that no one would be there until seven or perhaps eight so she had time to utilize their computers. She had Serge’s keys, his wallet, and everything he had in his pockets when he was on his way to the nightclub.

Serge’s cell phone rang about three times and then there were no more interruptions. His goons might suspect Serge had gone off with the woman. They would not worry until he didn’t show up. Grigor had hidden the Hummer, which was drivable in spite of the accident.

Inside the offices, she had him patrolling outside while she entered Serge’s executive office. She went first to the safe. Codes and other important papers would be inside there for safety. She looked at it and laughed silently. It would be easy. In ten minutes, she had the safe open. She took out folders, a box, and some documents. Sitting at the desk, she went over the files with a finely tuned photographic memory. Important papers involving several deals that Moscow police would like to know about as well as legal papers. Those she decided to copy for later use.

Inside the box were some disks. She slipped one into the computer after turning it on and watched as encrypted messages came up on the screen. Irina tried the others and they were all the same. Obviously, they held valuable information about the Covenant. Irina knew she would break it. Perhaps one of the disks contained information about the directors…maybe about Sydney. She knew her daughter was now a trained assassin.

Then again,…she frowned. She had to find Sydney and she was in Bucharest. She quickly made copies of the disks, returned the box to the safe. She went to one of the outer offices and made copies of the files. Eventually, she would see to it the police had the information too, but not right away. She had a quest…find Sydney…and break the Covenant apart.

Three days later, Irina had decrypted the codes on the disks. She made a plan and started it in motion. By this time, there was news that a certain criminal named Serge Balcinesky was dead. According to police reports, he was tortured, his neck broken, and then hung with cheese plastered over his body. Rats had enjoyed a rare meal. Muscovites were horrified, as were the police.

The members of the Covenant were angry and wanted information about the person who did it. There was no evidence of any kind to link Irina Derevko with the death of Serge. In fact, no one even knew The Man was back in town. The bodyguards, fearful that their masters would kill them, disappeared into the countryside, running as far from Moscow as they could.


In Bucharest, Gaspart Girozny drank an espresso while reading the morning paper. There was an article about Serge, although on the last page. He was only slightly irritated. Serge had made the Covenant quite a bit of money and his organization ran the Russian Covenant quite well. Gaspart now understood things were beginning to fall apart. Some of his colleagues had flown to Moscow to search the offices. They retrieved everything from the safe and it was felt the death of their Moscow leader probably was not related to anything Covenant. A new leader would take over soon.

He had other things on his mind. Julia Thorne had a job to do tomorrow night and he was to give her the target. He had to find out which hotel she was staying at in order to leave her the name. She expected to get the name in an envelope left at the hotel desk. Gaspart felt the inside of his jacket where the envelope resided. When he arrived at his office, he would have Hilga, his secretary, begin to run down Julia Thorne.

An hour later, Hilga gave him the name of the hotel. Gaspart left immediately. He told her would be back by two o’clock.


At the Sofitel Bucharest Hotel, Irina checked into a room late that night. She had for obvious reasons, come by train to Bucharest from Sofia. She entered Sofia the day before using one of her many aliases. She used her cell phone to call Herbert Frankel who was a trusted member of The Man’s group. Glancing at her watch, she noted it was just ten and hoped it would not be too late.

“Hello,” was the response over the phone. Herbert was up. Irina was relieved. “Herbert, it’s me.”

“Yes, Irina.” He sounded cheerful.

“I need some help. I want to find a woman who is in a hotel and I need the information as soon as possible.”

“Yes?”

“Her name is Julia Thorne. She is probably at one of the other hotels other than Sofitel. I need her room number and anything you can get for me. I am not sure there is anything more than her name available.”

“Very well. Your room number is?”

“1003.” She glanced out the window. “Call me at this number.” She gave him the cell phone number.” She paused; then asked, “Who is the Covenant boss in Romania?”

“Gaspart Girozny.”

“Headquarters?”

“He rents the top floor of the Istanbul Grand Hotel, 1430 Calea Grivetel, which is about ten blocks from the Gard de Nord, the railroad station. It’s not a particularly good hotel, but it is in the center of the city.”

“Good. Do you know anything about the layout?”

“Possibly, but I think I’d better tell you in person.”

At three o’clock in the morning, a dark clad figure entered the service elevator. The elevator stopped at the tenth floor and the occupant ran swiftly down the hallway to the exit sign, which was the fire escape window. It was opened and the figure disappeared outside climbing the stairs to the top floor.

There Irina jimmied the window. She knew Bucharest well enough to know there was no sophisticated security available. She knew there were guards outside the doors to prevent any lost tourist or curious citizen from entering the suite of rooms. She had a small halogen flashlight, which she turned on. The bright pencil thin light swept over the room she entered. It was an office. There were three desks each with a computer.

Moving to one desk, she began opening drawers. She knew that this desk’s occupant was probably not handling any delicate information. She moved to another. This one was different. The drawers were locked. She picked the simple lock of the middle drawer and pulled it open. She noted a couple of notebooks. Sitting down, Irina held the light on the notebook, swiftly going over the contents. There were dates and times listed, with a name after each one. She didn’t need that information, but flipped through it so all names and dates were instantly implanted in her memory.

The third desk was even more interesting. There was a different kind of lock. She squatted and looked under the desk. Wires ran through the computer to some place within the next room. She sat back on her heels thinking about this. There was some kind of security here, possibly a siren, bell or something to warn the guards someone was in the offices. She stood and then swung the desk slowly away from the wall. She immediately shoved the desk back. She had better be careful. She did not want to deal with guards. Irina moved to the door and opened it. A hallway faced her and on her right was a desk, which faced another double door. Behind that door, she knew guards were located. She turned right and saw a door that seemed to lead into another office.

Irina tried the door… locked. It had a simple lock, which she easily picked. She slowly opened the door. IT was a very large office with a large desk and a computer. There was a large painting on the wall to her right. She knew that wall backed up to the other office she left moments ago. She thought. The computer had some sort of security wire that went into the office. She knew now it was the private office of Gaspart Girozny.

She wanted inside the safe that she saw when she moved the picture. “Chyort!” She saw the flashing red light. She triggered something. She listened. No sirens went off, but she didn’t hesitate. There was a door across from the desk. She hoped it was some sort of executive bathroom.

Irina went through the door quickly. She evaluated the room and saw that there was a small window to her right over the toilet. Using the toilet, she opened the window and pulled herself up and out. There was a ledge outside at floor level. She pulled the window shut and moved around the corner.

Moments later the window slammed open, but whoever was in the bathroom saw no one. The office was untouched also. The three guards looked around and saw nothing. The chief guard made a call.

“Gaspart, there is nothing and no one here. The safe is untouched and the desk has not been disturbed.” The guard nodded, motioning to the other men. “Check every room to be sure no one got in.” He listened again. “You don’t need to come up. We’ll call if there is anything suspicious.”

One of the guards ran out into the office. “One of the desks has been jimmied.”

“Damn,” the chief snapped and then opened the cell again. “Gaspart, someone has been here.” He listened. “Yes. We’ll be waiting.”

Girozny was there in three minutes. He occupied a suite of rooms below his office. He joined his guards in the office. “Whose desk?”

“Miruan’s.”

“His job?”

“Data entry of the shipments to and from our warehouse. Everything is tracked on the computer. His notebooks are still in place.”

”Have the computers been compromised?”

“We don’t think so.” He did not smile. “They were not turned on at all. No heat emanates from them.”

“Who entered these offices,” Gaspart rubbed his chin. “…and why?”

The chief guard shrugged, because he too, had no answers.

“I want you to make sure no one gets into the offices again. Make regular ten minute rounds.”

“Yes sir.”

Gaspart took the elevator down a floor to his suite. He’d been asleep when the call came from upstairs. Now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep. Who the hell tried to get into his safe? He was sure none of the other underworld bosses would even have the balls to try.

He never returned.

TBC :innocent:

Translation:
Chyort - Damn

Another great chapter. She keeps getting closer and closer, but I hope she'll meet Sydney soon. It really is a quest, and I like how you make Irina go after a guy, and another, and another...

every chapter the web gets closer
we feel irina's frustration and can smpathize with her need to be thorough and patient

great job

Part 10
Another

They found Girozny the next morning in his apartment. He’d been garroted. The maid saw him first, panicked, and ran for the politzei. They had their crime scene investigators do a complete check of the rooms, but there were no prints, no evidence of anyone having been in the room with him. The maid told them he often had women up in his suite, but there was nothing to indicate there was a woman involved.

The guards, when accosted by the police, were unable to tell them anything other than there might have been a break-in, but they found no evidence of such except that one desk was opened. They also told the politzei Girozny was a fanatic about security and protection. The only time he did not want his guards was when he planned to entertain a woman. The police took the three to headquarters and when the secretary arrived to work, she joined the other three being questioned. That, of course, left the offices of the Covenant unprotected.

Later that afternoon Herbert Frankel received the files of the Covenant. Irina told him to assume control of the employees and all functions. The Man was taking over the Covenant’s operations. Herbert’s orders were to hire the Covenant’s men at double wages for the present. He’d be assured of their ‘loyalty’ if well paid. That she knew from her experiences.


Earlier the previous evening, Gaspart was in the bar at the hotel across the street from his apartment. He was drinking vodka, wondering who had broke into his office and why, especially since nothing was missing.

“Hello,” said a low voice beside him.

Gaspart glanced up and looked, catching his breath. His heart beat faster and there was a tightening of his loins. A woman in a red dress sat beside him. The dress, which came to her mid-thigh, was cut low in the front, revealing full rounded breasts, at least as much as he could see. She carried an impossibly small bag that matched the color of her dress. His eyes dropped to her legs, which seemed to go on forever ending in a pair of black four-inch stilettos. These magnified her height to a good eight inches above his head.

“Hello yourself.” He grinned. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Iced Stoli and thank you,” she smiled, showing white teeth in a wide mouth rimmed with red lipstick. Dark eyes regarded him speculatively. Long dark chestnut hair with red highlights fell below her shoulders. There was a small white flower pinned to a shock of the hair, her cheekbones were high and the nose straight. Over her shoulders, she wore a black woolen shawl. She was stunning.

“What’s your name?”

“Irina!” She looked up as the bartender poured a jigger and a half of iced vodka in a large shot glass. She smiled at him. “...and yours…?”

“Gaspart!”

“Nice to meet you.”

The bartender didn’t pay much attention to them after they moved to a secluded table near the rear entrance. In fact, he didn’t even realize that they left the bar…or when.


Gaspart escorted Irina over to the building. He was charming and his companion said she found him attractive. She asked if he was single. He was. He asked the same of her. She smiled and said she too was not encumbered. Gaspart asked if she would like to see his painting. Irina laughed heartily and put her hand over his.

“Do you have the Mona Lisa in your…um…bedroom?”

“Of course! Leonardo was a relative of mine. The Louvre often sends it to me for a day or so.” He chuckled and his hand moved across her waist, pulling her into him. “I will even give you more vodka if you like.”

Irina laughed again. “I can hardly wait.”

In the elevator, Gaspart pulled her into an embrace. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his ear. “There are many surprises for you tonight.” Then she moved her mouth around to his and kissed him hard. Her right leg moved between his and pressed against the hardness of the erection she knew he had. He groaned. The doors opened and he pulled her out, fumbling for his keys. Seconds later, they were inside.

“Want a drink?”

“I’ve had too much already,” she said, stumbling a bit to strengthen her statement. “Come on, show me the painting.”

He laughed and led the way to the back of the apartment. His bedroom was in a corner of the building’s tenth floor with large view windows facing east and north. At the door, he pressed a button and the drapes rolled across the windows eliminating the possibility of anyone looking in from another building.

As they moved, he pulled Irina into his arms and kissed her. She responded by pushing him against the wall, thrusting her leg between his, eliciting a groan. He broke free.

“Take the bathroom. Look in the top drawer of closet. There are some items there that might appeal to you…they do me.” He pointed to the closed door. “Oh, and keep those stilettos on too!”

Irina smiled and turned on her heel, entering the bathroom. Gaspart hurriedly undressed, throwing his clothes onto a chair, and naked, climbed into bed. The door opened and Irina stepped into the room. She was wearing only a red peignoir and a red thong. Her breasts were round, aureoles pink, and nipples large. She also carried her small red bag. For some odd reason, the purse seemed to increase his desire. He wanted her.

“Come here, but walk slowly,” he ordered. He leaned on his right forearm and watched, licking his lips and feeling the ache in his loins increase. Goddamn, he thought, she was a goddess. He’d never fucked a goddess before.

She stood at the side of the bed. He moved over to his left to allow her room next to him. However before he’d gone an inch, she had ripped off the covers and climbed onto his abdomen, well aware of the erection, straddling him and pinning his arms to his side. He was surprised, but grinned. She could ride him all night. Gaspart Girozny loved sex and sexy women. Irina fit the bill for sex all night.

“Gaspart,” she rolled his name off her lips with a sensuous accent he didn’t recognize.

“My dear, don’t waste our time. I’m ready.”

She leaned down and kissed him. “I have something to tell you.” She rose up and reached back with her right hand to grasp him. He moaned in pleasure.

“Wh…what is it,” he managed to gasp.

“You’re going to die tonight…with pleasure.” She turned her feet so the stilettos raked his upper thighs. Her hand pulled his penis. He groaned.

“OH God,” he cried, closing his eyes.

Without warning, he felt his body rolled. Something slipped around his throat and neck. It was tight. He gagged. His erection shriveled. Hands tried to reach for his neck, but the woman’s thighs had closed over his arms so tight he could not move them. He was gasping, gagging some more.

“Gaspart, you have been a bad boy. The Covenant does not like members who fail. You allowed an intruder to enter your offices and to open a sensitive desk.”

“Wait, wait…he got nothing…the office had nothing in it to give away any secrets. You have to believe me.” He gasped for air.

“That does not reassure us,” whispered his attacker, tightening the garrote further.
Gaspart lunged, trying to topple his attacker. He was gasping for air. “No, no,” he cried, “it’s true...behind painting…a safe. Everything…important…there. I swear.” He kept trying to take large breaths into his lungs.

“I swear it’s true. Don’t kill me. I’m loyal to the Covenant.” He could barely speak the words of fealty.

The garrote tightened and as he was dying, he heard her laugh. “I’m not Covenant’s assassin. I’m the Man.”

“Shit,” he managed to gasp.

“Your insignificant little group made a large mistake.” She leaned forward to his ear, gripping the ends of the wire tightly. “You should do your homework. Brainwashing Sydney Bristow was a mistake.”

“Wh…what…no…” was all he could manage.

“She’s the daughter of CIA agent Jack Bristow, who trained his daughter in the Project Christmas protocols.”

“So…” He gasped.

“She can withstand any amount of brainwashing by anyone.”

“I saw…the test…”

“Not valid,” hissed Irina. “The other mistake was me…I’m her mother.” She pulled both ends cross-handed shutting down his throat and ability to breathe. He gagged. bucked, trying to unseat her, but she kept her weight solid on his low back, thighs hard against his hands and arms.

Moments later, Gaspart Girozny was dead.

Irina went to the picture with the safe behind it. From the small purse, she took a very thin digital camera. Opening the safe, she laid the papers and book on the bed, quickly photographing the pages. When she had finished a half hour later, she closed the door and left the room. The Covenant would not know their files here in Rumania were now in the hands of the Man.

TBC :angel 1:

terminator arnold has nothing on pissed and focused irina

go lady!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :redhair:

Thanks for the pm! So, if Irina knew all along about Syd being able to withstand brainwashing, then she knew Syd was playing 'pretend'...so what's the point? I mean, I thought she wanted to find Syd, but now she obviously wants to take over the Covenant. I hope it's so she can free Sydney from the bad situation she put herself in. Will they meet anytime soon? BTW, I loved the part where she gave the family tree to the bad guy 'Jack Bristow is her father...I'm her mother...it's was a mistake' yadda yadda. I loved that part.

eyghon posted:

She does and she is aware that Jack performed the PC on Sydney. Naturally, she does not know yet to what extent the brainwashing went. :unsure: She'll know when she catches up with Syd...soon. :lol:

B)

Part 11
The Blonde

Irina met Herbert Frankel, her man in Bucharest, and handed him the camera. He was to download the camera into the computer.

“When you have everything, call me and I’ll join you.” She smiled. “We’ll see how extensive their organization is here and what we can do to take over their operations. It shouldn’t take you more than a half day. Print out everything. In the meantime, I’ve got to see if I can make contact with a young blonde.”

“Male or female?”

“Female.” Irina did not elaborate. She turned and left Herbert holding the camera and disappeared into the busy streets of the city.

Irina took a taxi to the café where Girozny indicated Julia Thorne might be. He wasn’t sure since she had her target and presumably would take out the underworld boss according to the Covenant’s directive. She put on a pair of dark glasses as soon as she paid the taxi driver and started walking up the street. The café’s outdoor tables seemed to be full. She glanced at her watch…eight o’clock. Many would not start work until nine so still had time to chat over their coffee and pastry.

She scanned the men and women, especially the blonde women and saw no one remotely resembling Sydney. She sat down and waited, drinking coffee. Perhaps Sydney would not be coming, especially if she finished her assignment. Irina could not believe Sydney would kill anyone if Jack trained her in the Project Christmas protocols. The purpose was to make her immune to any brainwashing. However she did have to pass a test…she frowned.

Irina glanced over to a table just vacated and saw a newspaper. She quickly grabbed it and looked through to see if there was anything written about a killing. She saw it. A well-known underworld figure was dead by hands unknown. He was found shot in his car last evening.

Her cell rang just then. It was Herbert. “Yes?”

“I’m not finished, but I thought you should know there is a list of men who are to be eliminated. They are heads of criminal organizations in various countries in Europe. The reason I called was because one of those on the list was killed last night in his car.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Keep working.”


Irina sat at Herbert’s desk, studying the screen. He was printing off the list of probable assassinations when she arrived. He also noted a list of Covenant bosses located in ten cities in Europe, most of whom were Eastern Europe, but there were three others in Rome, Paris, and Berlin.

“Click on the next page,” urged Herbert. “I think they gave their assassin a new target. Paco Fontina in Rome. There is also the name of the Covenant’s boss in the holy city, Roberto Ciccone.”

Irina studied the information, noting the addresses. Roberto was the man who would give Sydney her next target, Paco. “As soon as you have all the information translated and downloaded, encrypt with the code. Understand?”

“Definitely, then what?”

“Fax it to me at this address.” She scribbled the phone number. “However, call me first so I can be at the machine when it comes in. I want no one else to see this.”

“Will do.”


Irina flew to Rome. Finding Sydney was actually becoming a chase. Perhaps if she took out Paco first, she’d catch up with her. She took a taxi to the apartment she kept in the city. It was near the Spanish Steps and she always enjoyed looking out her living room window to watch tourists walking the streets from the upper end of Spanish Steps down to the bottom.

She poured herself an icy Stoli she kept in the freezer. Picking up her cell, she placed a call to Antonio Sporza, one of her contacts in Rome.

“Tony?”

“Yes?”

“Irina.” She could imagine the look on his face. She had not talked to him for nearly two years. “I’m fine.” She smiled. “I need some information and I’ll pay handsomely for it.”

Irina sat down. “I need the address of Paco Fontina. Yes, his home address and also where his office is.” She could hear the wheels turning in his head as he puzzled out her request.

“What for?” He must be thinking.

“No, nothing sinister. I want to talk some business.” He gave her the phone number, but not the address. He wanted to protect himself from any revenge just in case Irina Derevko was lying to him.

Irina called the number. “Hello,” the voice was gruff and male.

“Paco Fontina, please.”

“Who is this?”

“The Man…” Irina said, “…would like to meet with you.”

Silence.

“Paco?”

More silence, then, “Yeah. What does he want?”

“The Covenant has put a hit on you.”

“Son of a bitch…how do I know this is the truth?”

“Paco, The Man wants to make a deal with you.” Irina could hear the wheels turning in his head.

“Yeah, what kind of deal?”

“You help us get rid of the Covenant’s chief in Rome and The Man won’t start any business here in the city. You will be free to take The Covenant’s business over for yourself.”

Paco had heard rumors in the underworld about The Man. No one knew exactly who he was, but he was someone not to cross. Here he was offering to help Paco and stay out of his way in Rome. Was it a trick? Paco made up his mind quickly. “What does The Man get?”

“Rid of The Covenant here and elsewhere. The Man wants to contact the assassin assigned to the task of killing you.”

“Why?”

“To recruit him to his organization. I cannot say more other than we are going to get to Roberto Ciccone first. What I need is your everyday routine. Then stay in your own apartment, but send out your men to do whatever it is you do everyday. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“Do you know who the assassin is?”

“Yes, but who it is will not matter to you. Just stay inside today and tomorrow.” Irina already knew his routine as Tony gave her the information. “I will call you as soon as we have the assassin.”
The next day Irina and Tony shadowed the men who were making rounds for Paco. They traversed all parts of the city. They followed Paco’s car through back alley’s, into areas where million dollar apartments were located, into poor areas, and into the Old City. Tourists seemed to rule supreme here on the cobbled streets that led to historic sites featured in many movies and on TV.

It was noontime when the men pulled the car behind an old church, which looked as though it was closed for repairs. Of course, so much of Rome was always was in the process of renovation, painted and cleaned. One could count on a famous cathedral, fountain or even museum covered partially or totally with scaffolding.

The men walked down a small alley and out onto another street. Irina checked the schedule Paco gave her and it was lunchtime. He usually stopped to have lunch at a small café. It was a favorite of his. Irina reached inside her purse and checked that the Sig Sauer was loaded and the safety off. She did not know what would happen once she spotted Sydney…or how her daughter would react.

She put on the aviator glasses that covered her eyes. Stepping outside the car, she put on the baseball cap that said ‘Red Sox’. Her hair was pinned up. Only a few hairs strayed down her neck. She wore tailored black slacks, a tight-fitting red tee shirt, and black leather jacket. Black boots finished the outfit. Irina Derevko was in operational mode. She carried a black tote bag and slung it over her shoulder. She motioned Tony to stay in the car. He could see the café from where he was parked. If Irina found or saw Sydney, she would bring her back to the car either as a prisoner or as her daughter.

Irina strode carelessly toward the café, just as any American tourist would. She stopped at various shops to graze over their offerings. She made no comment as she moved slowly around the street. Her eyes behind the mirrored aviator glasses, roamed over everyone she saw, especially if she were blonde. She went down one side of the street and then turned back toward the café.

Paco’s men sat at a table, drinking wine and chatting with the waiter. They were gesturing wildly with their hands. Irina had no idea what they would be telling the patient man, because her eyes caught the back of the head of a woman, whose hair was long and blond. She caught her breath not daring to breathe until she got a better look.

Irina turned the corner. The café was across the street on her left. She shifted her eyes in that direction. Profile of the other woman was now visible. She moved to the end of the block, crossed the street, and started down the block. She was now facing the woman who was reading a menu, although her body language seemed to indicate she was trying to overhear what the three men from Fontino’s gang were discussing. The blonde-haired woman did not notice the tall woman coming toward her before it was too late.

“Hello, Sydney,” Irina leaned down and kissed her on both cheeks. She sat down her hand in her purse. “Have you been waiting long?”

“My God, Mom!” Sydney blinked several times trying to figure out how her mother found her. Her heart gave an excited jump in its beat. She was thrilled to see her alive. The last time she saw Irina Derevko was when she jumped off the forty-seven story building in Mexico City.

“Are you alright?” Irina smiled. “Your father and I have been worried about you.”

Sydney leaned forward. “You must know what happened to me, otherwise you would not be here.”

Irina put her left hand over Sydney’s right. “Of course, I do. Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s go to my apartment. It’s on Via Condotti, near the Spanish Steps.”

Sydney stood, glancing at the table with the three men, who stared at the two women. They knew their boss was looking for someone who might assassinate him. They wondered if one of the two women was the one. Irina pulled Sydney up and putting her arm around her waist, walked her off in such a manner the goons could not shoot Sydney if they thought about it.

“Where’s Dad,” asked Sydney.

“In prison.”

“What?” Sydney was stunned. “What for?”

“Working with me. Seems your NSC doesn’t like CIA agents frolicking around Europe with the number six most wanted.” Irina walked Sydney to the alley where Tony waited with the car.

“Lindsey will pay for this.”

“I have to get you back to the CIA so you can get Jack released.”

“How will you do that?” Sydney had already a semblance of a plan she was considering. Perhaps her mother could help.

“It will be easy once your bosses are out of the way.” Irina squeezed Sydney around the waist. “You’re going to help me.”

“Do what?”

“Kill them.” They turned into the alley where the car was parked. Irina motioned to Sydney to take a seat in the back. She motioned to Tony to slouch down. From her tote bag, she took out her gun and screwed a silencer onto the barrel. She knew they were followed.

Sydney entered the car and sat in the back seat. She watched her mother walk a few steps toward the entrance of the alley and then stand hidden in a doorway. Sydney withdrew her own Glock. Slouching down, she watched her mother as she waited for whoever was following them.

Irina stood in the shadow of the doorway, listening and then hearing footsteps. The men were hurrying now that their prey was out of their sight.

“Hurry. They disappeared down the alley.”

The doorway was only five steps from the entrance. The men came around the corner and Irina stepped out her gun raised. She pulled the trigger three times. Moments later, she was in the passenger seat of the car.

“Go.” She slipped the gun in her bag and pulled on the seat belt as Tony turned the engine over.

Tony drove out of the alley, but not at top speed, leaving the three bodies sprawled, dead, behind.

TBC :angel 1:

Yay! It took some time, but Syd and Irina are finally together! I cannot wait to see the two in action! :D

the gals are on the loose

this is really gonna heat up now :reallyexcited:

someone please make sure jack knows they are ok


bren

PART 12
TW0 YEARS

Sydney spent the better part of the evening telling Irina what happened to her after they rescued Jack and both she and Sloane disappeared. She told how she found Will, knifed, in the bathtub, just as she had Danny two years ago. This time the killer was someone who looked like Francie but was not. They fought and Sydney finally was able to put three bullets into her before she, herself, succumbed to the injuries sustained during the fight.

“The Covenant found us. They took both of us, setting the apartment on fire. Evidently, the fake Francie called them after knifing Will. I think she was planning to knock me out and turn me over to them. It happened, but not the way she planned. I don’t know what happened to her.”

“They brainwashed you?” Irina asked, knowing quite a bit about the organization.

“Yeah, but it never took. Finally, I knew I had to ‘give in’ or I would never be free. It cost a man his life.” She looked at her mother sorrowfully. “I hated doing it.”

“Sydney, you had to do it.” Irina remembered her early training when she was nineteen. Something similar happened to her and all the agents. They each had to prove their loyalty by executing a prisoner. She had no compunctions. She was aware of Sydney’s empathy toward others, including her.

“I know, but what if he wasn’t bad?”

Irina poured another cup of tea for Sydney. “Sweetheart, I’m almost a hundred per cent sure you killed another bad guy, but he was also an enemy of The Covenant.” She cupped Sydney’s chin in her hand. “So what did you do when they assigned targets for you to get rid of? You couldn’t say no, could you?” She searched Sydney’s face for truths.

“Yeah, but they gave me free reign to go where I wanted. Still there was always the sense in my mind that someone was keeping tabs on me.”

“Did you ever see anyone you knew?”

Sydney shook her head, but sighed. “I knew it would only be a matter of time before they gave me a target I couldn’t kill.”

“Such as?” Irina knew the answer.

“An American agent.” Sydney shuddered, remembering her mother’s job with the KGB. “But so far I haven’t had one.”

Irina stared at her daughter for a full minute, saying nothing. She knew what Sydney was thinking. “Then all the more reason for you to return to the CIA,” said Irina. She wanted Sydney out of harms way, but she did need her help for another ‘job’. “Have you thought about what you should do?”

“Yes…sort of…just haven’t got everything in the right sequence.”

Irina smiled, “Let me help you, but first, I need your help.”

“Doing what?”

“Taking The Covenant down.” Irina did not add she planned to use the organization to re-build her own.

Sydney stared. “Can we?”

“Want to?”

“With all my heart. I especially want the bastard who tortured me.”

“Do you think you can disappear for a couple of days?”

“Yeah, but I usually do that after…”

Irina smiled, “Don’t worry I’ll take care of Paco Fontina. I really want to meet Robert Ciccone. He will be the man who will give us access to the rest of the Covenant.”

“How are you going to work that…he’s got six bodyguards?”

“And how do you know that?”

Sydney was silent for a moment and then answered. “I was given the target by him. He came to the meet with those bodyguards spaced around the perimeter.”

“I want you to call him tomorrow. Do you think you can get him to meet you someplace with his bodyguards?”

“Yeah, but not without them.”

Irina thought for a moment. “Then this is what we can do…” She leaned forward and began talking.


Robert Ciccone entered the Ristorante Da Vinci off the Piazza del Cavort about nine in the evening. He usually had dinner at that time and always at this restaurant. His uncle was the owner and the chef. The food was always better than even the priciest in the city. He sat at the same table, which he shared with three bodyguards. Two waited outside in front and another was in the rear. Ciccone always rotated the six men, setting it up so none of them knew who was going to be doing what each night.

He drank and ate well as always. Then, about ten, just before dessert, the Covenant boss in Rome, got up and went down a short dark hall to the bathroom. There were no other doors in the hall leading from the outside or even the kitchen. His men made sure no one followed.

Opening the door, Robert started unzipping his pants, heading for the urinal. The door closed. The door to the toilet opened and a woman stepped out with a Glock 9 pointed at him. It had a silencer attached.

“Use the urinal now,” she commanded.

Robert knew she would not escape. There was no way out of the tiny room and no doors in the hallway. “You will die very soon.” He used the urinal.

Without warning, the woman reached out with her right hand and stuck the gun barrel into his right ear. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot that flabby piece of flesh off.” She squeezed the object to make her point.

Ciccone froze. “What do you want?”

“Drop your boxers, stand still, and do nothing. Keep both hands where I can see them.”

Keeping the gun pointed at his ear, the woman who was dressed in black leather jacket and leather pants, removed his PDA, and all of his papers, stuffing them into her jacket. The gun never wavered from his ear. As soon as she had everything, she pulled the trigger, dropping him to the floor, pants now down at his feet along with his boxer shorts.

Glancing at her watch, Irina moved quickly. It had been slightly over two minutes since he entered. She knew the bodyguards would be up and moving to find out why their boss was late. She re-entered the toilet stall pulling herself up into an air conditioning vent. She put the grill over it, turned, and moved the five or six feet it took to reach the outside.

There she somersaulted to the ground. Sydney was behind the wheel of Irina’s black Mercedes. Her mother jumped into the passenger seat, saying, “Step on it, I don’t want them to get a look at the car or its plate.” Sydney stepped on the gas and disappeared before two of the guards came to the door to find their companion lying dead.


Back at Irina’s apartment, Irina downloaded the PDA while Sydney went through the papers. Irina smashed the PDA and pocketed her own with the information she needed. She walked over to where Sydney was going through several pieces of paper.

“What have you found?” Irina asked.

:’I think they’re notes on various items all sort of unrelated.” She looked up. “Did you find what you wanted in his PDA?”

“Yes, but I don’t want you to see any of it.” Irina sat next to her and slipped her arm around her daughter’s waist. “You need to get home. I want you to get your father out of prison.”

Sydney turned to her, “I will.”

“What is your basic plan?”

Sydney explained about having her memory erased. She had been working with Aidan Lazeray, the Russian Diplomat who was also Julian Sark’s father. “We’ve been trying to trace one of Rambaldi’s formulas.”

“Stop, I don’t want to know anything about what you found or didn’t find…the fewer people know about it, the less trouble it will cause.” Irina stood. “I think we should go to bed.” She would have liked to know more, but she was aware Sydney was The Chosen One and to upset the prophecy and change the intricate balance that they precipitated might be to dangerous.

Before she was shot, Sloane had offered her his information, which was on the disk. That disk had more than three million DNAs on it. Irina knew Nadia was somewhere in there. Sydney had to return to the CIA in order to find her sister, Irina and Jack’s daughter whom neither had seen since birth. She might have to go into hiding after helping Sydney. She also had a contact that left word with her a week ago, he’d found another Rambaldi manuscript and was willing to part with it for some serious money. Irina wanted to know what was in the Rambaldi paper.

The next morning Irina arranged for Sydney to make contact with the doctor who had developed a memory erasing technique for anything short term, meaning anything that happened to her during the past two years.

“I’ll take you there, but you won’t remember anything except the fight and maybe the burial the torturer made you watch. In fact, you will remember only that I was a prisoner of the CIA. So in order to mitigate any patriotic acts on your part, the doctor will administer a narcotic that will keep you out for at least eight to ten hours. That will give me time to bring you to…” She paused, “where did you want to go?”

“Hong Kong.” Sydney went on to explain. “…and it’s far enough away to make it impossible for them to get me within the hour…it will take them at least a day to get there. The CIA has a safe house in Hong Kong where I can stay until they come after me.”

“Then let’s go,” Irina smiled, then hesitantly but purposefully, took her daughter into her arms hugging her tightly. She kissed her on both cheeks. “I love you, Sydney. Don’t ever forget that, even if we don’t see each other for months or years. “I…love…you.”

Sydney threw her arms around her mother and hugged her back. “I love you too, Mom,” she said with feeling. “I hate the thought I have to not remember you and the help you’ve given me.”

“Sweetheart, you need to get your father out of prison. He doesn’t deserve it. You know he did it out of desperation, believing I was the only one who would agree with him…that you were alive.”

Sydney sensed the passion in her mother’s voice and it hit her. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Irina was not afraid to admit it to her daughter. She knew Sydney’s memory of this conversation would be erased. She wouldn’t remember anything.

“Damn it, Mom,” Sydney stared at Irina Derevko, number six on the CIA’s most wanted list, but also it seemed a woman still in love with a man she betrayed over thirty years ago.

“Sydney, your father and I have already come to terms with the past. It is something we cannot change.”

“Already…” Sydney looked up into Irina’s face. “Did you two actually meet while trying to track me down?”

Irina flushed, “Yes. Sydney, whatever happened, happened between your father and me. I do not want to discuss it. Now I think we better go.” She turned and went to the door. “We don’t want to be late for your appointment.”

TBC :blush01:

That was great. :D Loved the bathroom scene.

FREEZE! Part 13
IN HIDING

Irina left Sydney in the alley in Hong Kong. She stayed close by to monitor Sydney’s movements as she became aware of her surroundings. As soon as she stirred, Irina left to take a taxi back to Hong Kong’s International Airport. Her plane was supposed to be serviced while she was gone so she could return to Moscow. A part of her mind was on Sydney, the other on the Rambaldi manuscript that would soon come into her possession.

She listened to Sydney’s story and saw the scar. Irina told Sydney she didn’t like it, but wanted her to know what she thought. She held onto Sydney’s hands. “I think they harvested some of your eggs.”

Sydney was horrified. “Why?”

“What was in the box you and Lazeray found?”

“We don’t know. We hid it.” Sydney admitted. “We didn’t want them to find it.”

“Sydney, it could be something representing Rambaldi’s DNA. They could…” Irina stopped seeing the horrified look on Sydney’s face. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t put it past The Covenant.”

“Oh my God, I’ve got to get to that doctor.”

Therefore, Irina flew back to Moscow, knowing she had a mole at the CIA that would give her updated information as things progressed. She was paying for only information and she paid well. She explained to the informant she wanted nothing secret, only the comings and goings of her daughter and husband. The extra money for doing nearly nothing and not violating the Patriot Act was welcomed. Her informant was happy to provide that information.


On arriving in Moscow, Irina drove to her apartment. She entered the rooms and found a message on her machine. It was from the contact that had the manuscript.

“Sascha, its Irina.” She had dropped her bags and made the call as soon as she heard whom it was. “How soon can I pick up the article?”

“As soon as I see the money in my account.”

“Cash or transfer?”

“Transfer would be quicker,” he reminded her.

”Very well, but does anyone else know about the manuscript?”

“Not that I know of at the moment, but that isn’t to say someone may be tracking it.”

“Give me your bank number and I’ll arrange the transfer immediately upon your arrival here…with the manuscript. Is that agreeable?”

“Of course, Irina. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Irina answered the bell before he could ring again. “Sascha, get inside.” Her eyes fell upon the wrapped article under his arm.”

He turned and handed her the package. “The money?”

Irina smiled. “Come with me.” She walked to the table. She had an unregistered cell phone.
“Give me your bank number. What city and country do you have it?”

“Basel, Switzerland. Number 676743567 at National Basel Bank.” He gave her the number and she wrote it down. She then dialed the number of one of her banks in the same country. Within ten minutes, the transaction was completed. Sascha bowed to her and left, a happy and rich man. Irina put the manuscript on the table.


Two hours later, she was overwhelmed by the words written on the parchment. Rambaldi was obsessed by the evil he perceived in the land. He designed an Armageddon to destroy the world and its people. Irina’s mind was in turmoil. This ancient seer and scientist perceived the world would be better off if its people were destroyed. He even felt it would and should take place in the twenty-first century…six centuries after his death.

Irina read it three times. It was midnight before she staggered to bed. She couldn’t sleep as everything she read during the evening kept playing repeatedly in her mind. She had found the diagram on building the specific machine to implement his plan.

Two years ago, she found a rough drawing…a plan of the same machine. She built a small one. Irina chuckled remembering Sydney stole it for SD-6 and Arvin Sloane. Then it was Sydney again, who destroyed the larger one she built in Taipei. Now what…? She tried to sleep, but kept tossing and turning.

It was early morning when Irina made her decision. She would destroy the manuscript. It was a horrible plan and she wondered if Rambaldi’s genius had driven him into the realm of insanity. She would burn the manuscript page by page. No one would ever see it other than herself. Only Sascha knew she had it and even he would not know what it revealed.

A week later, Irina received a report from her informant at the CIA in Los Angeles. Sydney had been brought back and hospitalized. She was frantic because she could not remember where or what had happened to her the past two years. She was told Jack was in prison because he’d been working with the only person he knew he could trust to help him find her…her mother. Sydney was allowed to see Jack, but he didn’t know what happened between them. Irina hoped Sydney would be able to get Jack out of prison.

She received a phone call that same day. It was from Sascha. He sounded scared. “Irina, it’s me.”

“Yes, Sascha?”

“Someone else is looking for the manuscript. I heard from a contact that the person is extremely interested and is willing to kill for it.”

“Are you safe?” Irina frowned. “Does your contact know you had the manuscript?”

“Yes. I sent out feelers for buyers.”

“Sascha, get out of the city. Hide.”

“You?”

“Goodbye and good luck.” Irina cut off the communication. She must get out of Moscow now. She had no illusions about her safety, especially since Sasha would be found. He would tell who had the manuscript. He was not the brightest or the bravest man in the world. Time was of the essence and he would dawdle, wondering if he should take the chance and stay. By the time he made up his mind what to do, Irina would have disappeared and whoever was looking for the manuscript would find him.

Packing quickly, Irina made sure there was nothing left of the manuscript, and then left, heading for the airport. No one knew about her place in England.


She had been in her apartment only a couple of weeks when she found an email on her computer. It was from Jack. He needed help. Sydney and Vaughn had been caught in North Korea. There was a good possibility they would be executed as spies. Irina’s heart nearly stopped. There was one person who could get them out. She emailed Katya. There was danger in contacting her sister, but Irina had to take the chance.

She heard back from Jack the rescue was successful. Sydney and Vaughn were back in Los Angeles with a few scrapes and minor injuries. She would be fine in a few days. He also thanked her for sending Katya to help.

“My sister hasn’t met or seen Sydney, but she knows Sydney is family and that’s one thing we Derevkos know…family comes first. Take care of yourself. I miss you.”

“Same here.”

The connection was broken, but Irina wanted to say more. She didn’t know if they had found Nadia yet and she was getting worried. Maybe the gamble on the disk’s contents was not going to pay off. She knew she had not told Jack and Sydney everything, but she did not want to endanger her other daughter’s life.

Using an unregistered cell, she made contact with her informant in Los Angeles. She did not alter their agreement, but she did get more details on Sydney’s whereabouts and Jack’s well-being. She was adept at reading between the words spoken, visualizing what her family was doing on a day-to-day basis. She had been a spy, field agent, and assassin too long not to know the workings of the KGB, SVR, and the CIA. They were not dissimilar.

Another week went by. She spent her time reading English Literature. Some of her favorite books that were the basis for the courses she taught at UCLA as a Professor. She took long walks in the park close by and also window-shopped in Soho and parts of the inner city. Days seemed to slip by without her knowing it. Occasionally she would check her email, but there was nothing from Jack or her informant.

After contacting Katya, Irina set up safeguards in and out of the apartment. She was twice as careful in checking her surroundings, no matter where she went. If someone were after that Rambaldi manuscript, they would stop at nothing to get it, especially if they knew or suspected what it contained. Katya worked for SVR and they also had an interest in Rambaldi, just as the CIA did. It was not a secret that Sydney Bristow was a key player in the entire scenario. What most people did not know was the identity of The Passenger. The KGB had suppressed that information, especially after she had gone missing. The Passenger was Nadia Bristow, the second daughter of Irina and Jack.

It was three weeks after that when she saw an ad in the London Times from Jack. He wanted her to contact him. She sent back an ad in the Los Angeles Times giving him the day and hour. She was at her computer in the apartment late waiting for the message. When it arrived, she was chilled to the bone by it. “Who or what is The Passenger?” Irina instantly cut off communication with Jack and cancelled her server.

She would have to disappear again. But where could she go? Using her laptop, she checked with the airlines. The quickest she could get to Heathrow was an hour. She wanted the first flight out of there to anywhere reasonable. The first place she could go to was New York, but the second flight was to Prague. She would have to settle on that city. She made the reservation under the name of Laura Donahue.

From a safe in her bedroom, she extricated the necessary passport under that name. Irina saw it was still within its ten-year limit and the picture was still good. She put it in her purse along with a lot of US cash. Prague didn’t take euros yet, but dollars were always welcomed. She packed an overnight bag she could take on board. She did not want to check it through. The only thing she could not pack was her gun, but then that didn’t present a problem since there were plenty of guns available in Prague.

Three and a half hours later Irina Derevko arrived in Prague. Six hours later, Irina Derevko had disappeared, leaving no trace. She had been taken prisoner by an enemy she didn’t expect to meet…her sister, Yelena.

TBC :angry:

I love the detail into irina;s thinking

something we are never given much of on the show

good update and HOW did yelena find her - which informant was a double for yelena?

:unsure:

Brenda

FREEZE! Part 14
THE CHAIR

Irina rolled over. Her head ached fiercely. She swore, wincing as pain pounded through her head. She opened her eyes carefully. Looking up, she saw a ceiling eight feet above her. Turning her head carefully, she saw walls and a door. There was no furniture in the room. It was bare. There didn’t seem to be a light, only a small window high up. Where the ‘fu*ck’ was she? She moved to stand and realized she was shackled both wrists and ankles. She stood carefully looking around. There did not seem to be anywhere to go except out the door. She tried the doorknob. Locked.

Rubbing her head, she went to the wall opposite the door and sat down in the lotus position. Meditation might be the way to get rid of her headache. How had this happened? She frowned as she began to remember.

She left the plane at the Prague airport and entered the terminal. She walked down the center aisle and out the main doors. She walked up to a taxi and entered it, giving the hotel she was going to stay at for a night. Then…nothing. She passed out. Gas of some kind and it produced a fuc*king headache.

Irina kept her eyes closed as she heard the door open. She opened her eyes slowly and saw two very large, strong, and armed guards. They parted to reveal…Irina blinked. Yelena! She had not seen her sister for nearly thirty years, but there was no mistaking her.

Irina said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

“Hello, Irushka! It’s been a while. How are you?”

“What brings you back into my life,” asked Irina. “I thought you were dead!”

“Sorry to disappoint you. You brought us together. You beat me to the manuscript and now I want it. Where is it?”

“Destroyed! I burned every page.”

Yelena’s eyes narrowed. She was smaller than Irina, having taken after their mother as Irina had their father. Katya too was short, but a little heavier. Yelena’s hair and eyes were black and now angry.

“You lie. You love Rambaldi too much!”

“He was insane,” snarled Irina. She stopped before she said any more. She did not want Yelena to know what he planned for his followers to complete.

Yelena took a step forward and backhanded Irina across the mouth. “He was brilliant.”

Irina felt a trickle of blood seep out of her mouth, Yelena’s blow causing her teeth to cut her lip. “Well, you can’t have his manuscript. It’s gone.”

“But you, dear sister, have a photographic memory unparalleled in the KGB according to the dossier I read…your personnel files. So you will tell me page by page what Milo Rambaldi had planned.”

“No!” Irina said quietly and shaking her head.

“You will!” Yelena made a motion with her hand, turned, and walked out of the room.

The two guards leaned down and hauled Irina to her feet dragging her out of the room to another down the hall. They pulled her to a hook in the wall and hung her manacled wrists on it. Irina hung from it, her feet unable to reach the floor. She heard the whip before it struck her. She gasped but made up her mind she was not going to give into torture. The world was at stake. She would not tell Yelena anything.

Irina had no idea what time it was. How long had she been in the room? The two guards left her after the tenth blow. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. She didn’t even realize them returning until she was carried back to the first room. They dropped her on a thin pallet. She yelled curses at them and at Yelena. Then she rolled onto her side, facing the wall and fell asleep.

During the next two months she was beaten, starved, and harassed by Yelena day after day and sometimes at night. Irina was amazed at the patience Yelena was exhibiting. That had not been her forte when they were children. Irina was being as stubborn as she was known to be by both her family as well as her husband. Stubbornness, she thought wryly that she passed on to Sydney. She spent her time alone thinking about Jack and Sydney. She wanted to tell her daughter so many things, but she also had no illusions about her fate. Yelena would never release her. She would probably kill her.

Then one day Yelena came to visit, her face alive with glee. Irina, dirty, thinner and hungry, looked up.

“I hope you didn’t entertain the thought you would be rescued by your precious husband or daughter, because that has all changed. You have no one and no hope.”

“They’re dead?” Irina was horrified.

“No, but you are…” Yelena chuckled. “Jack killed you last night in Vienna.”

Irina blinked, “What?”

“Just as I said…he shot you between the eyes. Irina Derevko is dead. She was killed by her husband when he heard she had put out a contract to have Sydney assassinated.”

Irina’s mouth fell open. Her heart gave a lurch and her stomach felt painfully empty. “No!”

“So you can give up hope of being found and rescued. As far as your stupid husband is concerned, he stopped you from ever seeing him or Sydney again. Sydney will learn just how ruthless her mother was.”

“How…” Irina was confused.

“The helix program, which will change a person into someone else. One of my followers volunteered.”

“To be murdered?” Irina struggled to her feet, astonished by Yelena’s revelation.

Yelena smiled. “We are determined to carry out Rambaldi’s plan. Are you ready to join us?”

“No!” Irina whispered.

“I didn’t think you would at least not yet,” she turned, “Guards!”

Her two men entered. They picked Irina up and marched her out of the room, Yelena following. However, this time, they did not take her into the other room. Instead, they left the building and thrust her across an alley into another smaller one. Once inside the building, they took her to a room with only a high backed steel chair with restraints. Her ankles, wrists, and upper forearms were locked onto the chair. As they worked, Irina’s eyes swept the room. There was another door on the left. She saw a bed, which did not look like the usual bed. It was a hospital bed. There were two monitors at the head of it.

The guards went to the door and stood waiting. Yelena surveyed the chair and Irina. “You can save yourself pain by telling me what I want to know.”

“No!”

Yelena smirked, “I thought so. I’m glad you refuse. It gives me a chance to watch you suffer.”

“Go to hell,” rasped Irina.

“Doctor!” Yelena yelled.

The door on the left opened and a man, wearing a white jacket, entered carrying a small tray with a single hypodermic syringe on it. He was rotund with a cheery looking face. His eyes gleamed with pleasure as he approached the two women. He licked thick pudgy lips with anticipation.

“You may administer your formula. My sister’s stubbornness makes her the perfect guinea pig.” She held the tray as he took the syringe and a small piece of cotton. Irina struggled, but the restraints held her tight to the chair’s arm.

“Yes, Yelena,” he said. He rubbed the cotton, soaked in alcohol, over Irina’s right arm. Then he plunged the needle into a prominent vein. When he was finished, he stepped back, watching her.

Irina didn’t feel anything at first. She kept her breathing shallow as well as steady. She had no idea what was going to happen. Yelena said pain, but that was something she could deal with and had done so many times in her life. She stared at Yelena with murderous intent knowing if she ever got free what she would do to her.

Suddenly she felt pain, terrible pain, such as she’d never felt before…not even giving birth to Sydney had been as painful. She screamed, caught her breath, and screamed again. Every nerve in her body was in pain…agonizing pain. Her heart raced and thundered in her ears, her throat, and brain. Her hands clawed at the arms of the chair. She writhed as much as she could. Yet nothing would stop it. Finally, she collapsed. Her heart couldn’t take it. She was in cardiac arrest.

Yelena motioned to the guards who had Irina out of her restraints in seconds. They carried her to the bed. The doctor attached the monitors to her arms and then administered the necessary medications to get the heart back to its normal beat. Unconscious, Irina knew nothing. Yelena watched with a satisfactory grin. She knew Irina would not give in immediately. She was going to enjoy watching her suffer.

“How soon can we administer another dose?”

“It will be at least a week before she can take another session like this.” He bent over the monitors. “Any sooner and you could kill her.”

“I’ve got the time.” Yelena nodded and left the room, followed by her two guards.

Irina slipped in and out of consciousness the next two days, followed by one day where she became aware of her surroundings. There were three more days back in the first room with just a pallet to sleep on and very little to eat. She meditated most of the time, but she also remembered quite vividly the pain.

One week to the day, the guards came back, took off her chains, and walked her to the small building. They put her in the chair. They left and no one came. A single light bulb dangling over her head was the only light she had. She sweated, anticipating the return of the doctor. Three hours later, the doctor and Yelena returned. Irina flinched at the sight of the tray in the doctor’s hand.

“Do you want to tell me,” Yelena smiled, knowing Irina’s stubbornness.

“Fu*ck yourself,” she answered.

Yelena nodded to the doctor who came forward silently. He rubbed the inside of Irina’s left arm near the elbow and again took advantage of one of her prominent veins. She struggled, but again it was no use. Her forearm was immovable. The syringe emptied into her vein. Irina broke out into a sweat, waiting for the pain.

Again, it hit her and every fiber, muscle and nerve ending felt as though it were on fire. Her skin felt as though it was being ripped off, leaving the epidermis displayed in its rawest form. It was everywhere. No part of her body would survive the agony. She screamed and gasped for breath, screamed and screamed and screamed until she lost consciousness once more. The guards hurried inside, removed the restraints, and placed her on the hospital bed.

The doctor administered the necessary drugs to counteract the serum. He attached the monitors to her arms, which were shackled as well as her ankles. Yelena watched it all with a slight smile. “How soon can we administer it again?”

“A week, maybe two this time.” He looked at her curiously. “Why not use sodium pentothal, the truth serum?”

“My sister is one of the few KGB agents able to withstand that. It wouldn’t work. We want her to tell us willingly everything.”

“I think you should be careful, Yelena, this serum I developed has been untested on any human being except your sister. I do not know what side effects, if any, there are.”

Yelena shrugged, “What will be, will be. However, we will use care. I want the information.”

The next few weeks were ones spent in pain and fear that grew with every session. Irina Derevko was well trained and had been exposed to all types of torture for information and she never gave into those behind it. She, herself, ordered some tough measures to establish her dominance as The Man. However, she never went through the present regimen. It was the constant persistent intention of Yelena to get the information from her sister no matter the cost that convinced Irina she could not hold out against the agony she was experiencing.

When she came to that conclusion, she didn’t remember, but she did know it was over. The day the guards came for her again she was barely able to move. She lost another ten pounds. Her strength was gone as was her will to withstand further torture. The guards put her in the chair. Irina’s body shook and she began to cry.

“N-no more,” she gasped as the doctor came toward her carrying the tray of pain. “I-I’ll tell.”

“Get Yelena,” ordered the doctor to one of the guards. “We’ve broken her.”

TBC :(

It's great that you showed what it was like for Irina, to be subjected to that mysterious substance and also her reaction to Jack 'killing her'. Thanks for the pm.

oh our poor girl

but she knows its hopless she has to give in

she'll figure a way out we know she will

you channel derevko like you are one of her sisters
a good sister that is

bren

FREEZE! Part 15
SLOANE

The two guards marched Irina to Yelena’s office in the larger building. At first, Irina thought they were going to take her to her cell, but they stopped at a door. One guard knocked and opened it. Yelena stood behind her desk speaking on the intercom. She looked up and smiled.

“Bring her here,” she pointed to the chair in front of her desk. “Take off the shackles, but leave the wrist chains on…”

Irina sat and kept her head up as one guard stooped and removed the chains from around her ankles. Yelena and she stared at one another. There was no love lost between them. Irina said nothing, waiting…

“I must say you surprised me. You held out longer than I thought you would.” It was a grudging compliment. Yelena motioned the guards to leave. “Stay outside.”

“I want something to eat,” Irina paused, looking up, “…please. I can’t possibly copy the manuscript without something and you haven’t fed me for a couple of days.”

Yelena chuckled. “All part of the plan…but, yes, I get you something.”

“Hot soup and hot tea with sugar…please.” Irina hated to kowtow to her sister, but she needed to build her strength.

Yelena flipped a switch on her intercom and ordered the food. When she was finished, she came around the desk. “Get up.”

Irina struggled to stand. “What?”

“Over here.” Yelena pointed at a desk with a chair. On the desk were several pens and pencils along with a large pad of paper. “You can start now. I have work to do, so one guard will be inside to make sure you do not move. Understand me?”

“Yes.” Irina sat down, pulling the pad to her. She picked up a pen and began to write.

“And make sure, Irushka,” she snarled, “that you make no mistakes. You are going to help me build whatever it is Rambaldi designed. If it doesn’t work, you will be returned to be re-educated by the doctor. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Yelena.” Irina didn’t look at her as she continued to write. She was angry that she gave in to Yelena’s demands. If she got the chance, she would kill her.

A half hour later, the door opened, and the guard outside brought in a tray with a large bowl of borscht and a pot of hot tea. Irina stopped writing and began to eat. The soup was better than anything Yelena fed her for the past few months. She knew, however, she could not eat more. If she did, she would probably be sick. She sipped the hot tea slowly and carefully.

Yelena did not return until evening. Irina finished three pages of the manuscript. Mentally she was exhausted. The months of pain and torture had taken its toll. She knew she had to draw out the procedure in order to live. She didn’t have any illusions that she would live beyond the ‘end of the world’ as Rambaldi saw it.

Irina handed Yelena the pages she’d finished. “There’s more, of course, but I am tired. I want to sleep in a bed.” The request was stated without it sounding as if she were begging or blackmailing her sister.

“Yes…” Yelena called out, “guards!” The two men entered the room. “Take the prisoner to the room across from interrogation room. You know what to do.”

The younger guard bent down and shackled Irina again. They took her out of Yelena’s office and to the room Yelena indicated. Irina was shoved inside and the door slammed shut behind her. It was a simple room, with a bed, a couple of blankets, and a pillow. Irina did not undress. She dropped onto the bed, pulled up the covers, and fell asleep immediately.

Irina awakened suddenly, looking around. She was sweating and shaking. She had no idea what time it was. The dream that awakened her was frightening. It was about Jack and Sydney as well as Nadia; at least she thought it was Nadia since she had no idea what her youngest looked like. The dream itself was a nightmare.

Sydney was screaming, “Mom, Mom, please don’t do it, please!”

Irina was frantic. What was Sydney screaming about…she wasn’t going to do anything to her daughter? She was in a cell somewhere. There were steel bars all around it. Sydney’s voice seemed to come from all directions. Irina ran to the door and rattled it, shouting, “Sydney! Sydney! Don’t do what? Sydney!” She tried to pull the bars apart. It seemed a stupid thing to do, but then, suddenly, the bars bent outward and she could step through outside the cell.

“She’s loose,” Sydney’s voice screamed. “Please, Mom, don’t do it!”

Irina scrambled around the room trying to find the door. It was shut tight. She rattled the doorknob, pulled it, and slammed her fist against the door itself.

The door burst open. She saw Jack standing in front of her with a gun pointed at her head. “You will not kill her.” His voice was hard and cold as steel.

“Jack, are you crazy? I’ve been in a cell for months. Please, sweetheart, I would not kill Sydney.”

“We know you put out a contract on her. The killer told us.” His finger tightened on the trigger.

“Father, don’t.”

The voice was soft. It had a slight accent to it that Irina could not place. Who was that? Irina saw a figure in the shadows behind Sydney who was terrified. She didn’t have time to think. The gun was pointing at her. Irina leaped forward, lowered her head and hit Jack at waist level, knocking him back to the floor. The gun fired and the bullet passed her right ear within an inch or less. Irina reached for the gun. They grappled and she knew her strength was less than his was, but she fought for it as much as she could.

Suddenly he flipped her over onto her back. The gun was in his left and her right. “Let go,” he hissed. “You deserve to die for what you did.”

She looked up into his dark eyes, filled with anger and hate. “I didn’t do it,” she cried. “I love my daughter. I would never kill or have her killed. Please, please, Jack, you have to believe me!” Tears welled up in her eyes. Irina Derevko usually did not cry, but she did now. She maintained her grip on the gun.

“You did because Tomasaki in a dying declaration said you did.”

“Father?” The soft voice interrupted. “Maybe…he was fooled by someone, who said Irina Derevko hired him.”

Jack looked up into the shadows, “Perhaps, but we cannot take the chance.” He wrested the gun from Irina, whose strength had ebbed away. She was now at his mercy.

“If you kill me, the world will not be safe.” She stared at him. “I love you, Jack. I have ever since we met thirty years ago.”

“You betrayed me, betrayed Sydney, and you murdered 12 CIA agents. I’m going to put an end to your betrayals and assassinations now.” He pointed the gun at her forehead.

“Then kiss me.” She whispered.

“What?”

“You heard me.” She reached up with her right hand, caressing the back of his neck and pulling him down. Their lips touched. She put her right hand on her left and opened her lips to take his mouth in hers.

“No!” The soft voice cried.

“Dad, kill her before it’s too late.” Sydney screamed.

Jack reared up his eyes met those of Irina’s. He pulled the trigger.
Irina shivered even under the covers, frightened and crying softly. Yelena said Jack killed her at the British Embassy in Vienna months ago, soon after she was taken prisoner. He thought she was dead and so did Sydney. She wondered about the soft-spoken woman who never showed herself. Was it Nadia? Had they found her? Sydney, my God, how could she believe that of her own mother?

Irina sighed guessing it was easy, given that night in Marseilles when she tasered her and when she hit her at the ice rink. She groaned, even remembering the bullet she put into Sydney in Taipei. Yet she thought she knew to know Sydney well enough to believe she would not order her father to shoot her mother. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought about the nightmare. She shivered again. She had to get a grip on herself or else Yelena would send her back to the doctor. Sniffling, she wiped the tears away, using the blanket, and turned over to fall into a restless, troubled sleep again.


The next few weeks were spent writing out the manuscript and watching Yelena start building the device. Irina did not want to die…yet…so she gave Yelena everything she wanted. Her sister gloated over the way the device was successfully put together. She told Irina they would start testing soon and warned her it had better work or she would see the doctor again. Standing with two guards on either side of her, Irina said nothing. What could she say?

The day arrived and the Mueller device was turned on with several of Rambaldi’s followers present. They were in the control room, watching from a safe distance. Irina stood behind her sister, wearing chains. If it didn’t work, she knew Yelena would not hesitate to order the guards to take her to the doctor. Irina said nothing. In seconds, the ball began to expand between the two electrode-magnetic curved bars.

A door opened and a man who looked to be about thirty-five was struggling to get free. He was brought in and chained to a chair facing the red ball. He was frantic with fear. He screamed, trying to free himself. Suddenly, the he stiffened and began roaring in an unrecognizable voice. His hands ripped at the chains. He strained and screamed with rage. It looked as if he was going insane. He seemed to be frothing at the mouth. The hair on the back of Irina’s neck was rising. She had experimented a little but it was with the liquid from the ball. She didn’t understand why the man was now recognizably insane.

“Is that what happened with the two models you built?” Yelena turned to face Irina.

“No.” Irina was puzzled. “My two volunteers caught some kind of virus and started bleeding from their finger nails. They also bled from the ears, nose and mouth, as well as the genitalia and anus. My researchers could not explain what the virus was.”

Yelena turned back to watch as the man shook his chains trying to get them off him. “Interesting!”
The door opened behind her. A guard walked inside and spoke into her ear. Yelena was surprised. She left the room, motioning to Irina’s guards to take her back to her own room.

Irina sat cross-legged on her bed, meditating. She was having a hard time, as the picture of Yelena’s human guinea pig didn’t want to leave her. The man was in mental agony. She wondered what Yelena did with him. At this point, she was only interested in living. Irina wondered what Yelena had in store for her. She worked at making her breathing more and more shallow, controlling her heartbeat. She was not under the illusion she would see Jack or Sydney again. That would take a miracle.

The door opened. Irina paid no attention; she was slipping away into her meditation mode. Suddenly, a hand struck her across the face. It effectively brought her back into the present. Her dark eyes flashed open to see Yelena and then behind her…Arvin Sloane.

“Arvin,” she said quietly, “how nice to see you.”

“Irina,” he greeted. “I must say I have seen you in much better circumstances.”

Yelena spoke, “I told him you cooperated with me.”

“Yes.” Irina did not want to tell Sloane anything about her torture. He must know she didn’t do it willingly since she was wearing chains.

“I’m sure we could have worked together if you hadn’t been so concerned…about Sydney.”

“She is my daughter.” Irina said quietly.

“Of course, yet there were times when Emily and I thought of her as our own.” He smiled. “You left suddenly remember, and Jack had no one else to turn to, especially after he learned about your indiscretions.”

There was silence. Yelena watched them both curiously. Irina’s lips curled in derision. “She, however, is Jack’s and my daughter…not yours.”

“Enough,” said Yelena, who cared nothing about their stilted conversation. “You are being transferred.” She looked at Irina. “I want to deal with you later.”

Irina said nothing, wondering what that meant. “Where?”

“Some place far from what will happen to the world. I will to tell you about the success of Rambaldi’s plan, as well as what happened. It will affect perhaps, billions of people if all goes well, including your beloved Jack and Sydney. They will die with the rest of the humans, just as Rambaldi predicted.” Yelena turned to leave, chuckling. “Only Nadia will survive.”

Irina stood and leaped for Yelena. “Pizda,” she screamed, reaching for her sister. Yelena jumped to one side and kicked Irina hard in the side, sending her sprawling to the floor.

“You leave tomorrow.” Yelena stood over her. Sloane said nothing, but followed Yelena out of room.

TBC :huh:

I knew I hated yelena for a reason

you make her out to be even more cruel than JJ did



bren

FREEZE! Part 16
THE HOLE

They came for her the next evening. Irina stood quietly as the chains came off. She was dressed in khaki pants and sleeveless dirty white tee. A jacket was fitted over her nearly bare shoulders. As instructed, she pulled on lightweight boots. They chained her again. Two men escorted her out of the room, down a long corridor. She had no idea someone was watching as the guards and one of Yelena’s lieutenants, pushed her into a van. She had absolutely no idea that Sydney was also close by. She did not hear the gunshot that felled Marcus Dixon as he faced Sloane.

The van traveled to an airport where Irina was hauled out of the van, up into a private jet, thrown into a seat, and chained so she could not move. Yelena’s lieutenant left the plane. The pilot had his instructions from Yelena and he did not need to accompany the prisoner. He was needed elsewhere.

The flight took several hours with two stops for gas. Irina had no food or drink during the journey. Fortunately, she was able to meditate. The time passed quickly until at last the plane landed. It was night. A dark-skinned guard removed the chains and another man took her jacket without asking. Irina didn’t object as it was hot and she did not want to cause any problems with her new guards. They moved her across the tarmac to a waiting jeep. There was another jeep behind it. One guard rode with her and she wore handcuffs.

Five hours later, they entered a small clearing deep in the jungle. Irina walked as one guard directed. They stopped before what looked like a large piece of metal. The guard who accompanied them bent down and opened it. It covered a dirt cell of approximately six by four feet. It was at least four feet deep. Irina was both disgusted and frightened. One guard took the handcuffs off.

“Vaya…” the guard pointed down.

“I want a drink,” snapped Irina, pantomiming someone drinking. She didn’t move.

“Vaya usted,” snarled the man pointing at the hole.

“Un momento,” said the other guard. He walked away and a minute later, returned with a plastic bottle. “Aqui…agua.” He handed her the bottle; then gestured to the hole.


Irina sipped the water slowly. She didn’t know when she would get more. It was pitch black, she didn’t have the time to look inside, and around before they dropped the hatch on her, locking it, and leaving her alone. There were four men serving as guards. She thought that was a waste of labor. It was hot and she sweated. She leaned back against the dirt wall, closed her eyes, and thought about Jack and Sydney, wondering if they found Nadia…and where. How had she grown up? Who raised her? Irina allowed herself to slip into a meditative mood where she let go of worry and concentrated on peace, quiet and the possibility that she would survive, that she would repay Yelena for everything.

It was late afternoon when Irina heard someone outside. The hatch was opened. The heat entered. She did not realize that being underground she was cooler than those above her cell were. She looked up, squinting against the brightness from above her.

“Senora, vaya…” A hand reached down to pull her up.

“No…” she shook her head.

The guard looked disgusted at her. He knew she didn’t speak Spanish. He pantomimed, saying, “Usted come…you…eat.” He pantomimed what he told her.

Irina stared at him and then reached up to take the hand of the other guard. He pulled her out. They led her to a nearby fire where the other two guards were already eating. The guard, who pulled her out, handed her a plate with what looked like beans and meat of some kind. She was handed a spoon and a cup into which was poured a dark liquid. She sniffed and smelled rather strong coffee. She took several sips before she began to spoon the food into her mouth. Both had a restorative effect, making her feel a hundred percent better.

The men watched her grinning and talking among themselves. Irina did not look at them, but she knew they were discussing her. She finished the plate and handed it back to the guard.

“More…” She gestured to the pot over the fire. “More please…” He took a large ladle and gave her more. “Thank you.”

Irina sat back on the log and began eating again. She was feeling much better. Still she knew she had little strength in her. She needed more food. If they were going to keep her unchained then there was the possibility she could manage an escape…escape to where? She did not know where she was or in what part of the world. The one thing she thought she knew was that she was in a jungle somewhere, either in Central or South America.

When she finished the second plate, the guards took her back to the cell, dropped her down into the hole, and closed the hatch locking it. Irina decided she would wait to try to escape. She needed more food to build up her strength. She closed her eyes and curled up on the dirt floor to get some sleep.


“Jack? Where are you?” Laura entered the kitchen from the back door. Sydney ran out into the hallway. She and Sydney were returning from the grocery store.

“In my office,” answered Jack. “Do you need some help?”

“Yes, sweetheart, there are two more bags out in the car.”

Moments later, Jack appeared in the doorway with Sydney. He kissed Laura. “Did you have a good day?”

Laura smiled, “Of course.” She began emptying the bag she brought inside.

Jack, with Sydney following, walked outside to the where the car was parked. He picked up the two bags and entered the house again. Laura, wearing her apron, was beginning dinner. He put the bags down.

“Looks like I’ve got to go away for about a week,” he said quietly. He put his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him, nuzzling her neck.

Laura smiled and her heart raced. They would make love tonight. Jack always wanted her the night before he left. She needed him too. “Let me get dinner ready.” She laughed softly.

“I’ve a few things to do in the office. Call me when it’s ready.” He kissed her on the neck and left the kitchen.

When Jack and Sydney joined Laura at the kitchen table, Sydney was delighted, because her mother made her favorite, “Spashetti and meatballs.” The meatballs were huge, juicy, and spicy. The kind Jack loved. Sydney’s of course were smaller. Laura poured wine for them and milk for Sydney. The parents ate and listened as Sydney described her day at school.

After putting Sydney to bed, they made love twice. After the second time, when Laura was in control, Jack fell asleep immediately. Laura kissed him gently on the cheek, rolled over, and left the bed. She stopped at the bathroom for a minute then pulled on her robe. Moving swiftly down the stairs, she entered the office where Jack’s briefcase lay on his desk. She opened it, scanned its contents, and then closed it.

She stopped in at Sydney’s bedroom. Sydney was sprawled half in and half out of the covers. Her dark hair fanned out on the pillow. Laura leaned down and covered her again, but knew by morning, she’d be half in and half out again. She stood a moment over her daughter, letting her imagination take her into the future. What would her little girl look like as a teen-ager, as a grown woman? She hoped Sydney would marry and have children. Sighing Laura went back to the bedroom, removed her robe, and slid beneath the covers. She would have to call Valenko in the morning.

Jack came down to breakfast to find Laura made his favorite. “I gave Sydney her favorite last night, you sweetheart, get yours this morning.” She handed him the paper. Moments later she poured him steaming cup of coffee and placed a hot plate before him with six pieces of French toast, two scrambled eggs, four strips of bacon and a container of hot maple syrup which he drenched the toast with. He grinned at her. “You must not have a morning class.”

“No, I don’t.” She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

Irina awakened with a start. Why had she dreamed about that particular day as Laura Bristow? There were a multitude of days and nights like that, during years she was married to Jack. She realized then the dream contained two meals and that she was salivating. She groaned. She was hungry for food. It had never held a great appeal with her, food, that is, but now it did, especially during the past eighteen months while under Yelena’s care.

The hours passed slowly. Although steaming above, it was cooler in the pit. Irina needed water and food if she was to be successful in escaping. A couple of days might make the difference. They came for her that late afternoon. She was given another plateful of beans with some kind of meat. She asked for and ate a second plateful as well as two liters of water. The guards allowed her to take another bottle with her.

The door slammed down over her. She sat down, crossing her legs, and leaning against one wall. Holding the bottle of water in one hand, she tried to visualize the terrain and everything about the camp. Why had Yelena brought her here? Where was she going to strike now that she had the plans for the Mueller device? Irina groaned softly. Yelena said she wanted to spend more time with Irina, to make sure she died well. What the fuc*k did she mean by that? Irina shook herself, sipped some water, and understood immediately. Pain was what Yelena had in mind and something she herself would do.

Perhaps it would be better to escape or at least try, and die quickly from a guard’s bullet than to wait for whatever Yelena planned to do. Why here? It was in the middle of nowhere…in the jungle. Irina wiped her face and sipped some more water. Leaning back against the dirt wall, she fell asleep.


“Mom!”

Irina looked around to see Sydney behind her. “Sydney, sweetheart…I didn’t know you were here.”

“Where is that?” Sydney smiled, staring into her mother’s dark eyes.

“I don’t know where I am. I think I’m in a jungle in some country…Central or South America.”

Sydney laughed, “Looks more like a park,” she made a sweeping gesture with her hand, “not a jungle.”

Irina looked around her. It did look like a park. She looked down and saw she was wearing a pair of jeans, a tee shirt, and sneakers. Sydney was similarly dressed. “Oh, right!”

“Mom, you know we’ve never really had a talk about…about stuff.”

“I know. I guess the closest was when I was at the JTF cell.”

“Yeah, kinda hard to talk with a glass wall between us. Then there was the video camera and sound mic pointing in the same direction.” Sydney smiled, pointing at a near by bench. “Let’s talk here.”

Irina sat down, crossing her long legs. She threw her arm about her eldest daughter and kissed her on the cheek. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You know we’ve never had a mother-daughter talk.”

“About specifically?”

Sydney blushed. “Well about things mothers tell their daughters as they’re growing up.”

Irina turned to look at Sydney, “Sweetheart, I think you done very well without my help. Do you have something in mind?”

“Did you ever miss talking to me? I mean, I remember we talked a lot when you…you were home in Los Angeles.”

Her mother nodded, “Yes. Strange you should remember. That was a long time ago.”

“It was, but you went away and I tried to remember everything we talked about.”

“At your age, it was about your school and friends there. You were too young to give you the American version of the birds and bees.”

Sydney laughed, “Oh God, I couldn’t ask Dad when I was older. I had to depend on my friends.”

“Jack never warned you…?” Irina’s mouth twitched and a frown developed on her face.

“No, but Mom, he was in another world. He just never seemed interested in what my needs were. He just supplied money…and nannies.” Sydney looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “Your leaving devastated him.”

“I know,” Irina answered. She uncrossed her legs. “I do have questions also. How old were you when you went on your first date?”

Sydney laughed again. “I guess I was thirteen, maybe fourteen. A neighbor boy who was in my class, asked me to go to the movies with him. I bought my own ticket and my own popcorn. Nothing happened if that’s where your question was leading.”

“Okay, so when did you have your first sexual experience?”

“Not until Danny. He was so wonderful I fell in love almost immediately. Oh I necked a little with some boys, but I never went all the way.”

“Danny was old er?”

“Yes, but only five years. I had pictures, but when the apartment…” Her voice died away, remembering that awful night when she found out that Francie wasn’t Francie and seeing Will in the bathtub covered with his blood from the stab wound that nearly killed him.

“But you found Vaughn,” interjected Irina quickly.

Sydney’s face lighted up as she thought of her fiancé. “Yeah, although it was dangerous for an asset to be entangled with her handler. The company might have transferred each of us to the opposite ends of the earth if they found out.”

Irina smiled, “The KGB had similar rules. They were not enamored of my marrying your father, but since the higher powers were twelve thousand miles away, I said ‘yes’ when he asked me to marry him. Your father was very persuasive.”

“Wasn’t that your objective?”

She nodded, “but not marriage.” She leaned back against the bench and looked up to a distant clump of trees. “There was such a strong attraction between the two of us that I would not have said ‘no’ even if Valenko was sitting on that bench over there.” She pointed to the spot. It was empty.

“You fell in love.”

Irina blushed, “yes, but not immediately. Your father was kind with a strong sense of duty to his country and to his family and he was a great lover.” Now she sighed. “I think it was all of those things that made me grow to love him more every day. It was something I needed in my life. Something that I wanted. I did not find it in any Russian male I met in all my twenty-one years.”

“How could you spy and…and kill…” Sydney was hesitant.

“I divided myself into two people: a wife, mother, and lover. The other half was dedicated to my country and the job I was trained to do.” She put her hand on Sydney’s arm. “I know you do the same, otherwise you could not do the job.”
“Yes, but we don’t kill. I don’t know if I could do that unless I was in great danger.” Sydney stared at her mother. “To deliberately kill someone…”

Irina put her hand on Sydney’s arm. “Sweetheart, our countries were at war. Oh I know it wasn’t a declared war involving thousands of men and women, but it was still a war…an ideological war—communism against capitalism. I was a soldier. I followed orders.”

Sydney sighed. “I know, but…”

Irina put her arms around Sydney and hugged her. “I don’t know if I could ever do it again. Look how it turned out…your side won.”

Irina awakened with a start. It was dark. She listened. Something awakened her. The hatch rattled as the lock was removed. She wondered what now. The hatch opened and a bright light shone down on her. Irina held her hands up to her face.

“Mom?”


FINI

Author’s note:
I really don’t need to go any further. All of us know what happened next.

Hey

I've just posted the final part of Freeze! here

http://invisionfree.com/forums/CIA_Headqua...topic=719&st=30

Read, review and enjoy.

Bev

I loved the 'dreams', nice touch. I winced every time Irina said 'please' to Yelena, what horrible moments! Loved it all. Great job.

what a great look into what irina was doing and thinking while we were busy watching jack and sydney and nadia live their lives onscreen

let me know when your next fic is ready to go

Bren B)