A DEATH IN KASHMIR

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaccccck!!!! My computer is all screwed up, so I haven't been able to go on the site much. But I'm going to leave the site for a while. I'll try and send my chapters, but that's it, and once summer comes, I won't be on alllias at all. Sorry.
kylo4
 
I will be gone over the course of the summer, but I'm going to write what's left of it, when I return. Lenafan will be replacing me for the summer.
kylo4
 
Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lenafan and I love the fact that you people love our fanfic. I'm so sorry that I can't write as much as I'd like too.
kylo4
 
This is one of very few fics that keeps me entertained, without sloshing all over the S/V...in case you didn't know, I'm an anti-S/V shipper....I don't mind it, but it gets thrust down my throat a bit much.

Oh well...hope you guys win!!! This fic really is great, but I'll revoke my nomination if you don't post more chapters soon!!! LoL...just kidding ;)
 
As promised :cool:

CHAPTER 8
SCRAMBLE

Everyone responded to Jack’s call as soon as they could respectably put on robes or their regular clothes. Jack waited for them all. He included Ginny because she should know what had happened to Vaughn.

“Dixon, Sydney and I are going to Florence as soon as we can get a flight out.”
Jack’s face was still pale.

“Dad, we can do better in a private plane.” Sydney said. “I’ll check things with the airport on the other line.” She went into her bedroom.

“While she does that…I want everyone to understand we’re not sure where they are taking Michael and Irina, but Sydney and I believe it will be somewhere in the middle east, possibly as far as Pakistan or India.”

“Why do you think that, Jack?” asked the General.

“The language Sydney identified as Pakistani or a dialect from that region.”

Ginny looked even whiter than Jack. “Mr. Bristow, what’s going to happen to Michael and…her.” She couldn’t bring herself to say Irina’s name yet.

“We don’t know yet. That’s why we want you, Will, Weiss, Carrie and Marshall along with the General to stay here.” Jack turned to Probukov. “Have you any ideas about why they were kidnapped?”

Mikhail Probukov shook his head. “I can’t help you.”

“Wait.” Will stood up. He’d been thinking. “Twenty plus years ago, wasn’t Irina Derevko put in prison somewhere in Kashmir?” He looked at Jack. “Didn’t you, Sydney and Irina go back to that prison – to get those nukes?” Will had become a top analyst for the CIA. Once a couple of years ago, he had been an up and coming journalist. Then he got entangled with Arvin Sloane and SD-6 and his life had been turned around. Using his reporter’s instincts, he had carved a new career for himself with the CIA.

Jack nodded. “Yes, but why do you think they’re being taken to the prison?”

“Okay, if not the prison, the stronghold of…” he frowned as he searched his memory, “…of Akbar Kabir. Sydney was being tortured when Vaughn and Dixon rescued her. Maybe they were after Vaughn.”

“But why Irina? She wasn’t part of that then. She was under CIA jurisdiction at the Center.”

“Maybe it was chance. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Sydney came back into the room. “All right, we have a plane. We can leave in an hour. What about the police? Shouldn’t we tell them what we know now?”

“Will” Jack looked at the younger man. “You take care of this for us. Dixon, you, Sydney and I need to pack as well as stop and pick up equipment on the way to the airport. I’ll get in touch with the CIA officer here in Paris. General, please alert SVR. There is always the possibility Irina may be able to get a message someway to someone there”.

“Mr. Bristow, what do you think will happen to Michael?” Ginny Vaughn was distraught. There were tears brimming in her eyes.

Jack looked a little discomfited by her question. The trouble was he couldn’t come up with a definitive answer that would make her feel better. There was no indication why the two had been kidnapped. There was only supposition on his part and that wasn’t good.

“Mrs. Vaughn, the sooner we can catch up with the kidnappers, the better. We can’t dwell on what might happen to them, only what we’re going to do to find them and bring them back safely. You can help here by seeing to it our agents are fed and that they get rest.” He looked at Weiss, who nodded, knowing Jack wanted her to be kept busy. “Trust me Ginny, we will do our best to get Michael back…and Irina.” That was for him. His heart had been racing ever since he’d heard the phone call. He had tried to remain cool, but his interior self was raging. Most kidnappings these days did not end with the victims being returned unharmed.

General Probukov put his arm gently around the worried mother. “It will be all right. Jack is good man, tough and strong. Sydney is smart. Don’t worry. They’ll find them.”

The phone rang. Sydney answered it. “Dad, it’s the police. They’ve found Vaughn’s rental car.”

“What are they going to do with it?”

She relayed the question and then listened. “They’re towing it to their criminal investigation department for finger printing. Preliminary examination showed no blood anywhere.”

“We’ll keep in touch.” Jack looked at Weiss. “You handle that too.”

“Yes sir, no problem.”

“Sydney, I’ve got to get another satellite cell phone. Mine’s tied up.” He snapped it shut. “But I’ll take it as a back up. In the meantime, Marshall, I want you to call the Italian police in Florence.” He looked at Sydney. “Where is your mother’s apartment?” She told him.

Turning back to Marshall, Jack continued, “Tell the police that we’re on our way. They should get to the apartment to keep anyone from encroaching or disturbing the crime scene. We’re going to want to see it as is. And call Langley to inform them what has happened so far.”

“Will do, J-Jack.”

“I think that‘s about all. One of us will keep you posted all the time once we arrive in Florence, so one of you be available at all times to receive phone calls.”


CHAPTER NINE
THE PRISON

The plane stopped for gas in Jordan. No one left the plane except the pilot. Within forty-five minutes, they were back into the air, again heading east. Now there was no water, only desert sand, wadis and a few thousand green acres, surrounded by forbidding land. It was monotonous and without change. They didn’t seem to be traveling over any cities of any size and although not at 30,000 feet, they were high enough so there were no recognizable landmarks. Still they were heading east and Irina was uneasy. This was not her favorite part of the world. There were bad memories connected with middle-Asia.

At last, she noticed the flat land was giving away to hills. They had been in the plane for at least eight hours. It was getting dark. The plane seemed to be slowly descending. She tried to picture the area where they would be landing. There were mountains and a lot of them. She hoped the pilot knew his way around up here in the dark. Glancing at Vaughn, she thought she saw him dozing. She sighed. She ought to be trying to get some sleep. There was no telling what lay ahead of them once they landed. She closed her eyes. The plane was still descending. She wondered if they were going to land in Islamabad, a large city near the Kashmir territory, but in Pakistan.

Lights were visible on the ground only momentarily, and then they were gone. It had been a large city. She wondered if it was Srinagar. There were no lights on in the plane and she didn’t expect any. She was hungry. No use thinking about that now. Although the plane was flying at a lower altitude, it was still cold. She shivered and looked out the window again. Mountains! She felt the plane start to make a turn. She hated being tied down. This plane was going to land in the dark in mountainous territory.

Glancing out the window again, she saw what she thought was a string of tiny lights. They must be lining a landing field. She almost held her breath as the wheels of the plane hit the field. She looked at the lights. They were little lamps. They had landed in the middle of nothing! When the plane came to a stop, the cockpit door opened and Mohammad came back with his men.

“Did you enjoy the trip?” he said mockingly.

“The flight was fine. The service, however, was poor.” Irina said.

Mohammad laughed. “Yes, I suppose it was. Are you hungry?”

Irina glared at him, saying, “Yes and thirsty.”

Mohammad gave an order for each to have another cup of water. “Get them into the car,” he said to his men.

Irina was surprised. She thought this was the end of the trip. She and Vaughn were taken off the plane. Their hands were bound in front of them and their ankles duct-taped again once they were in the car. Neither could see any lights other than those lining the landing area.

“Do you know where we are?” whispered Vaughn

“I have an idea, but it’s too early to tell for sure.”

One man entered the back seat area, pushing Vaughn to one side so he could sit. Mohammad sat in the front seat. The other man got behind the wheel and started the vehicle. They drove for what seemed like hours. No one spoke. It was cold and Irina was glad to have Vaughn next to her. His body heat made her feel more comfortable. She doubted that would continue once they arrived at their destination.

Suddenly the car stopped. Irina glanced out the window on her side and almost gasped. They had to be near Musaffarabad. They were at the prison, the old secret KGB prison where she had spent six months after running from Jack, Sydney, and the FBI in 1982. She looked at Vaughn. He didn’t seem to know the place. Then she looked back out the window. It was here that she had killed his father almost twenty-two years ago. It was also, where the Peoples Liberation Front had kept six suitcase nukes. Where she, Sydney and Jack had come to find those nukes and take them back. Vaughn had seen the place from the helicopter, but not from the ground. That explained his lack of recognition.

“Out,” said Kabir. Each was helped out by one of his men. The duct tape around their ankles was slashed so they could walk.

It was dark. It smelled musty, dank and some animal smells were mixed in as well. Irina didn’t care. She remembered what it smelled like when she was a prisoner. She remained impassive. She was not going to give Kabir any ammunition to help him obtain his goal, the forty million dollars. If he knew, she grimaced as she stumbled over a rock, it might be worse for her and for Vaughn. She didn’t look at her future son-in-law, because she didn’t want him to know yet where they were.

Kabir, leading the way, gave his halogen lamp to the man with Irina. He pulled out a flashlight that threw a wide beam ahead of them. He muttered something in Pakistani and led the group down some stairs. Irina’s stomach turned and she felt beads of sweat forming under her arms and on her forehead. Their footsteps echoed in the empty building.

“We are going to leave you here tonight.” He walked down a hallway. There were cells on either side. Irina showed no emotion, but her heart was pounding. “You, in there” Kabir said as he motioned to the man with Vaughn. He shoved him inside the cell and slammed the door.

“My dear Colonel, you will occupy this one.” He shoved her inside. She stumbled, falling against the bunk. He had evidently prepared these cells for them, since the bunks had a blanket and the floor had been swept. “I will be back in the morning to see about the ransom video. You might want to use the time to get some rest.”

“How about something to eat…more water?” Vaughn croaked.

“Ali,” he said to one of the men, “Give them each one cup of water and some bread.”

A half-hour later, the three men had gone, leaving Vaughn and Irina in total darkness. Both had retreated to their bunks. Irina wrapped the blanket around her. It was very cold. Neither spoke for several minutes, as each was lost in their own thoughts. Irina was thinking about Jack and Sydney.

Vaughn was thinking of Sydney, wondering what she was doing. By now, they should have been married and on their way to their honeymoon in the south of France. Instead, he was a prisoner with Sydney’s mother! Cripes, what a wedding day…and night!

His mother! Suddenly, he felt terrible. What was she feeling about his being kidnapped AND with Irina Derevko, probably the one person in the world she hated. She had always been strong, holding up well when the CIA informed her Bill, her husband, had been brutally murdered by Derevko. Then to find out the woman was alive and Sydney’s mother? And that she would be at the wedding! He’d had some bad dreams after Sydney told him she wanted him to ask his mother to come to Paris.

He couldn’t imagine what Jack or Sydney told her when he turned up missing. Maybe they didn’t tell her about Irina being with him. The damn woman was trouble from the first time he’d set eyes on her at the L.A. operations center. He glanced in the direction of the other cell. There was no sound, no movement. What was she doing over there?

As if in answer to his thoughts, Irina asked softly, “Are you okay? Your arm?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He felt the arm, which was slightly painful. “You got any idea where we are and what this place was. It seems like, he paused, remembering what he could see when Kabir led the way with the flashlight, “it might have been a prison.”

Irina looked toward him. She couldn’t see him and wondered just what he was going to say if she told him. Maybe it would be better if she could see his face. She wanted to be able to help him understand what she was saying.

“I’m not sure. I think we’d better try to sleep. I have no idea what Kabir is going to do to us tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t.” He bit his lip to keep from yelling at her. This was all her fault.

She heard him move on the bunk. She pulled the blanket around her and turned to the wall. Her heart was still pounding, but she closed her eyes and slowly willed herself to sleep.

Hundreds of miles away, north of Kashmir, at SVR headquarters in Moscow, a computer tech in the operations center, noticed a beeping on his computer. He began searching his database for information. Ten minutes later, he had the information on paper and was on his way to see his supervisor. They had an agent in trouble, but who?

Irina and Vaughn had been missing for thirty-six hours.
 
K. Ackles Posted on Jul 3 2003, 12:45 PM
This is one of very few fics that keeps me entertained, without sloshing all over the S/V...in case you didn't know, I'm an anti-S/V shipper....I don't mind it, but it gets thrust down my throat a bit much.

I quite agree. I'm not sure that I agree with the writers who got Sydney and Vaughn together in Phase One. THe excitement is pretty much in the chase. Once the quarry is caught, it's ho hum. :rolleyes:
Now Jack and Irina, with their history, are something else. She hooked him a long time ago, and, even though she has a hard time admitting it, he's been with her those twenty years they were apart. ;)
They are persuing each other again, even though technically married and now it is really romantic...star crossed lovers and fun. :blush:
So most of my stories are about them.
:cool:
 
I'll read it, but I have to go out now, so I stuck it in a word Document and I'll read it the second I get home...I know it'll be great, that's why I nominated you!!!
 
CHAPTER 10
TRACKER

The clerk hurried to the sixth floor at SVR headquarters in Moscow. He went thru a door marked Technical Supervisor. The woman behind the desk looked up as he approached. He looked excited.

“Yes, Ivan?”

“We have received some incoming tracking beeps.”

“From one of our agents?”

“No, I don’t think so. The tracker is coming from an area where we do not have any agents in place. However, it is one of ours, the newer type.”

She frowned, “Well, where is it coming from then?”

“Kashmir, India.”

Now she was surprised. Then she remembered the memo. It had come this morning just as she had finished her tea. Her secretary had handed it to her. “It’s from the Director, First Directorate.”

The supervisor had read the message. She immediately picked up the phone, dismissing the clerk. “I need an international outside line. Connect me with the…” she looked at the memo, “…Hotel Sans Souci.” She then gave the number.


The General took the phone from Weiss who had answered it. They were alone in the suite. Marshall and Carrie had gone to their rooms. Mrs. Vaughn had gone an hour earlier. Both the two men were tired, but still steady.

“Da!” said the General. “What? You sure? Yes, yes. I am going to have my – technical specialist check this out. He will be entering the computer system on my password. I tell you this now. I don’t want interference. You understand? Da.” He turned to Will. “I need that Marshall! Now. SVR think they have a tracker somewhere in Kashmir.”

“Irina?”

“Could be. Is not one of our agents in that part of the world.”

Weiss picked up the phone and dialed Marshall’s room.


It was evening, Jack and Sydney stood with Dixon outside the apartment house Irina owned in Florence, Italy. A policeman stood guard at the door. He had insisted they wait while the Inspector was told of their arrival. The police were taking no chances. They had been told to keep the area “clean” so the Americans could inspect the crime scene themselves.

The door opened behind the guard. Jack looked up to see the Inspector coming down the steps.

“Buona sera, Inspectore.” Jack shook hands with the police inspector. “Para inglese?”

“Of course.” He smiled at Jack and Sydney. “My name is Paolo Carragio. Please follow me.”

They went up to the fourth floor. The Inspector stopped. Yellow police tape had been strung across the hall. “I have left the apartment for you to see.”

Jack heaved a sigh of relief. “Inspector, you would do me the honor of helping us.”

Paolo Carragio had a big smile on his face. The American was a good man. He held up the tape so the three could duck under it and then followed. “We found the door how you say, crashed.” He stopped, and then pointed to the inside of the doorframe. “I did not go further after seeing this.”

Jack looked. A bullet hole was visible. Paolo pointed to the floor directly in front of them. “There is a dark spot. I think it is blood.”

Sydney kneeled. Dixon was right behind her. “Yes, Dad, that’s what it is.”

The four carefully entered the room. As always it was tastefully decorated. Jack thought his wife had learned a lot over the years. Still he could remember their apartment in Virginia and the home they had in Los Angeles. Irina had decorated them both in a pleasant manner.

Jack looked at Sydney. “You take the bedroom. Dixon you take the kitchen. I’ll go through this room carefully.”

A minute later he spotted the cell phone on the floor. It was on. He explained to Carragio what had happened, then picked it up and turned it off. The furniture was in place so there was no fight. It had gone as he thought he’d heard. Dixon reported nothing in the kitchen. He went down the hall toward the bedroom.

“Dad!” Sydney called. “In the bedroom.”

Jack and Carragio went on the hallway. In the bedroom, Sydney was standing at the closet. “Mom changed clothes.”

“How do you know?”

“These were tossed on the floor. She never tossed clothes on the floor. We know she was here. And over here, she pointed, is Vaughn’s jacket. There’s a bullet hole in the left arm of it.” She looked worried.

Jack didn’t show any emotion, but he was concerned. Just then Dixon stood up, holding some bloody bandages. “I found these. Someone’s been shot.”

Sydney had just pulled open a drawer. She reached in and found the hypodermic needle. She pulled out the plunger and smelled. Sydney gasped. “No smell.” She turned to Jack. “I think I know what it is, though. SVR has been experimenting with liquid trackers. Mom must’ve had one here.”

“I’ll be damned,” Jack grinned. “Let’s call…” As if in answer, his cell phone rang. “Yes?”…He looked at the other three, surprise on his face. “Good work, Marshall. Now let me talk to Will.” He waited a moment. “ Will, tell the General to be sure they keep recording the tracker. We need to know if it moves from its present position. We’re in the apartment now and Sydney confirms Irina had a hypodermic here. I also want you to call Langley. Tell them we need satellite coverage over the area of the prison that Sydney, her mother and I went to a year ago.” He listened. “Yes, we’re going to get on our way very soon. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Dad, we’re going to need a plane.” Sydney glanced at her watch. “It’s ten o’clock now. That prison is not close to an landing field.”

“Okay.” He smiled at Carragio. “I appreciate your cooperation, Inspector.” He then told him everything. “Would you see to it that the door is replaced?”

Sydney took out a notebook from the inside pocket of her jacket and quickly wrote a name and phone number down. She handed the paper to the Inspector. “This is my mother’s agent here in Florence. He will pay for what it costs. Tell him Anna Derevko is authorizing the repair.”

Carragio nodded and smiled.

“Dad, there’s something we’ve got to do first. We’ve got to get in touch with Aleksey.”

Jack nodded. He took out his cell phone. “What’s the number of his cell?”

“No, let’s use my videophone, he has one too.” She punched in the number. She held up the phone before the pair of them, waiting.

In Moscow, Aleksey Bristow was reading in bed when the phone rang. He picked it up and flipped open the top. He immediately noted the video light was on, so he pushed the button. In seconds he saw his father and sister staring back at him. “Good grief,” he said very best British accent, “do you know what time it is?”

“Yes,” said Sydney, “but listen. Mother is in trouble. She and Vaughn were kidnapped day before yesterday. We’re in Florence on their trail. If this is for money you need to know about it now. We didn’t call you before until we were sure it was a kidnapping.

“Christ,” he swore, sitting straight up in bed. “Has there been a demand for ransom?”

“Not yet, but it seems Mom injected herself with liquid tracker. SVR picked up the beeps earlier today. We think they took her and Vaughn to the prison in Kashmir.”

“Son of a b----h,” he swore again. “Are you and father going after them?”

“Yes, but you’ve got to be prepared to pay the ransom. It could be a lot. I don’t know for sure. We’re certain to get some sort of demand very soon.”

“Right!” he answered. “I’ll go to the office and start figuring.”

“We’ll let you know more as soon as we hear…OR it could be you who get the ransom note. Call us if you do.” She gave him number just to be sure.

“Certainly. Keep me posted.” He disappeared from the tiny screen.

“We’d better get going,” said Jack. “They’ve been gone 36 hours and every minute counts.”
 
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