OH NO...YIPES. The story isn't me...it's
POINT/COUNTERPOINT.
I DON'T BELIEVE I DID THAT? :angry: :angry:
Anyway
I'm reposting this story which I did early February. This was before Marshall inserted a similiar item into Irina's shoulder during the last episode. Damned clever, these CIA op tecks.
Anyway all characters belong to JJ Abrams.
POINT & COUNTERPOINT
Part One
Los Angeles
Vaughn and Weiss stood watching the monitor. Each man was agitated and kept making movements with their arms and shoulders. The monitor screen showed the cellblock beneath them. Large mats had been placed inside. Kendall, with Devlin’s approval, had ordered them for Irina’s use. She had asked for more strenuous exercise for herself. She had orchestrated the return of two-thirds of her operations manual and had, with Sydney’s help, given it to Jack.
Now on the screen the two men were watching some extraordinary karate, ju jitsu, and almost every other kind of martial arts fighting. Sydney had joined her mother in the cell and the two were putting on a dazzling display of defense and attack fighting. Unfortunately Sydney had spent a few more minutes on her back than her Mother had.
“She’s really is better shape than I thought,” said Vaughn admiring the way Irina was handling herself.
“Owww!” Weiss cried in concert with the take down Sydney had just performed on Irina.
However in the next two seconds, Irina had reversed the situation and it was Sydney who was totally at Irina’s mercy. Her take down had been done so smoothly and without any effort, that Sydney was in shock.
Irina’s leg pinned Sydney across her back and neck in such a way that if she moved, she would break her neck. Irina leaned down, “Give up?”
Sydney nodded and her mother’s leg came away. “What was that move?’
“Sit next to me,” instructed Irina, her back to the camera. “What I just showed you was a death move I was taught years ago.”
“KGB?” said Sydney quietly.
Irina nodded. “You don’t have to have a gun to provide yourself with a weapon. Your body can be a weapon and a deadly one in certain circumstances.”
“But you can use karate, any of the martial arts, to kill.”
Irina smiled slightly, “Yes, but no one really knows these. If someone you are engaged in battle with is tougher, faster, the use of these moves will be so sudden and so quick, they will have no defense. Now pay attention.”
A few minutes later, a buzzer rang twice; indicating the time allowed was up. Sydney and Irina got up. The U.S. Marshal came to the door to let Sydney out. Irina stood back careful not to move toward her daughter. The men who guarded her were not forgiving. She was still under a death warrant and there were 86 counts of espionage filed against her. Only her continued cooperation in the war against SD-6 and the Alliance kept her from a federal prison. She had no illusions about her status.
The door shut and locked. Sydney was standing at the window, looking at her. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” she said, “unless they send me on a mission.”
“Fine. I’m not going anywhere,” she responded, smiling, “and try to practice what I showed you.”
Two days later, Sydney was gone on a mission for SD-6 that Sloane and Sark had set up for her. Jack had not been in the loop. When he confronted Sloane about it, Sloane smiled. “Don’t worry, Jack. It’s a pick-up mission. Should be easy.”
“Where?”
“Moscow!”
“Wait a minute,” Jack snapped, “didn’t we send someone to Moscow last week to pick up some information and they disappeared?”
“Yes, but the man wasn’t as experienced as Sydney. Sark thought the other agent had been careless. Sydney doesn’t get careless. We’ve told her to make sure she has a clean pick-up before going in.” Sloane patted Jack on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Marshall inserted a tracking device into her shoulder. We’re tracking her now. Come, I’ll show you.”
They walked over to Marshall Flinkman’s office and lab. A television was on and Marshall was watching it carefully. He straightened when the two men entered. “Hi, just was watching our Sydney’s point.” He gestured at the
screen.
Jack turned to look. The screen showed a map of Moscow in the broadest of scenes. There was a small blinking light visually on the screen. Jack peered at the map. “Where is she?”
“We’re not able to get the exact location pinpointed, but she is in the district where she is to make the pick-up.”
Jack looked at Marshall. “You’d better tell me if that point stops blinking.” His voice was menacing and unsmiling.
“Absolutely.”
That night, Jack went to the United States Intelligence Task Force Center, to see his wife, Irina Derevko. The cell doors opened into the cellblock. He walked to the window. Irina had been in her bunk. She had pulled the prison robe over her naked body when she heard the first cell door move. “It’s a little late, Jack!” She commented sleepily.
He stared at her. He remembered all the nights they had spent together. He knew she liked sleeping nude. He swallowed, then said, “Sydney’s been sent to Moscow and Sloane won’t tell me anything other than it is a simple pick-up. The trouble is the man they sent last week is currently missing. He did not return for extraction when he was supposed to come out.” He looked worried.
Now he had Irina frowning. “And they don’t know where she is?”
“Marshall put a GPS tracking point in her shoulder and the Alliance’s satellite is tracking her.”
“Where in Moscow?”
“The map was too generalized. I couldn’t tell anything about streets. Arvin said she was in the district where the pickup was to be made.”
“And --?”
“What could she be picking up?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, not really. There are too many possibilities.”
Jack’s pager went off. He looked down. “Christ, it’s Marshall.” He ran to the cell doors, motioning to the guards to let him out.
“Jack! Tell me.”
It wasn’t good. Marshall reported to both Jack and Sloane that the point had disappeared off the screen. Jack was furious. They had no way of knowing where she was and who was involved. Jack’s usual cool demeanor was destroyed by the thought of his daughter missing. They had become closer than ever since working as double agents together. Marshall had faded into the background. He was no hero.
“Tell me what she was doing in Moscow?” Jack growled.
“She was picking up the names of the Russian Mafia bosses.”
“From who?” He glared. “
“Ivan Schmerzinskiy, one of Derevko’s men. He claimed to have their names.”
“Do you know how close you are to dying?” Jack glared at Sark. “You sent her in after one man went missing? Do you know this – this Schmerzinskiy?”
“Not really. He was a Derevko operative. Since she went missing, her men have been drifting. I think he got some Intel that he wanted to pass on for some money.”
“If anything has happened to Sydney…” Jack was angry and worried.
Moscow
It was close to midnight when Sydney slipped out of the apartment building and entered a cab. She gave him directions to the bar where the meet was to take place. Paying off the driver, she waited a full ten minutes. in the shadow of a building. Then she crossed the street to where she was to meet Ivan Schmerzinskiy in a small dimly lit bar. She glanced in the dirty window and saw some tables, a bar and a couple of people. They men looked up when she entered. They saw only a dimly lighted figure, tall, wearing a leather jacket over tailored pants and shirt.
“Ivan Schmerzinskiy?” The voice was that of a woman.
The bartender nodded toward a man seated at a table in the back of the room. Sydney turned and walked toward Ivan, who half rose in his chair as she approached.
“Do you have the money?”
“Da.” She took out an envelope from her inside pocket. It was the money to pay for the names of the two men who were members of the Russian mafia. “First, the names!”
He handed her a slip of paper. She looked at it and handed the paper back. “Don’t you want them?” He was confused.
“Here’s your money,” she said, turning to go. Suddenly she saw a big powerfully built man, who was advancing on her with a knife. “Come with me,” he said. He outweighed her about one hundred fifty pounds.
“No!” She answered sharply and attacked. That caused a moment’s hesitation in his action. The man struck at her with the knife, missing her only by a hair’s breadth. He feinted and then ducked one of her kicks. He leaped at her, the knife again swishing in the air. This time it nicked her in the shoulder blade. Suddenly, she made the slickest move the bartender had ever seen. All he saw was her legs suddenly around the thug’s neck. The man seemed startled, as she twisted her body and legs. The bartender heard a snap and the thug fell like a stone to the ground, his head hanging at an odd angle. The bartender knew his neck was broken.
Ivan was in shock. The fight had taken only a minute. He had a hard time believing what he had seen. He turned and ran to the rear of the room, scrambling past chairs and tables, to get out.
The front door opened and two uniformed men entered. They were the politzei, police. “Hands up,” one cried at Sydney as she tried leaving the same way Ivan had. She put up her hands.
“What happened here?” Asked the senior of the two. The younger officer was handcuffing Sydney, hands behind her back. He began pushing her out the front door towards their police car.
The bartender nodded to the man on the floor and told the officer he thought the man was dead. The woman had killed him while they were fighting. He said he hadn’t seen that kind of a killing move for many, many years.
“What do you mean, killing move?”
“That was an old KGB technique.”
The officer looked at the dead man. “We’ll see what we can learn from the prisoner. She doesn’t look old enough to have been a KGB agent.”
Los Angeles
Back at SD-6, Marshall came running into Jack’s office. “Agent Bristow, we’ve lost her signal.”
“The point?”
“Yes, and I don’t know why because everything’s working at this end. It must be at Sydney’s.” He really looked distressed. “Something’s happened to it.”
POINT/COUNTERPOINT.
I DON'T BELIEVE I DID THAT? :angry: :angry:
Anyway
I'm reposting this story which I did early February. This was before Marshall inserted a similiar item into Irina's shoulder during the last episode. Damned clever, these CIA op tecks.Anyway all characters belong to JJ Abrams.
POINT & COUNTERPOINT
Part One
Los Angeles
Vaughn and Weiss stood watching the monitor. Each man was agitated and kept making movements with their arms and shoulders. The monitor screen showed the cellblock beneath them. Large mats had been placed inside. Kendall, with Devlin’s approval, had ordered them for Irina’s use. She had asked for more strenuous exercise for herself. She had orchestrated the return of two-thirds of her operations manual and had, with Sydney’s help, given it to Jack.
Now on the screen the two men were watching some extraordinary karate, ju jitsu, and almost every other kind of martial arts fighting. Sydney had joined her mother in the cell and the two were putting on a dazzling display of defense and attack fighting. Unfortunately Sydney had spent a few more minutes on her back than her Mother had.
“She’s really is better shape than I thought,” said Vaughn admiring the way Irina was handling herself.
“Owww!” Weiss cried in concert with the take down Sydney had just performed on Irina.
However in the next two seconds, Irina had reversed the situation and it was Sydney who was totally at Irina’s mercy. Her take down had been done so smoothly and without any effort, that Sydney was in shock.
Irina’s leg pinned Sydney across her back and neck in such a way that if she moved, she would break her neck. Irina leaned down, “Give up?”
Sydney nodded and her mother’s leg came away. “What was that move?’
“Sit next to me,” instructed Irina, her back to the camera. “What I just showed you was a death move I was taught years ago.”
“KGB?” said Sydney quietly.
Irina nodded. “You don’t have to have a gun to provide yourself with a weapon. Your body can be a weapon and a deadly one in certain circumstances.”
“But you can use karate, any of the martial arts, to kill.”
Irina smiled slightly, “Yes, but no one really knows these. If someone you are engaged in battle with is tougher, faster, the use of these moves will be so sudden and so quick, they will have no defense. Now pay attention.”
A few minutes later, a buzzer rang twice; indicating the time allowed was up. Sydney and Irina got up. The U.S. Marshal came to the door to let Sydney out. Irina stood back careful not to move toward her daughter. The men who guarded her were not forgiving. She was still under a death warrant and there were 86 counts of espionage filed against her. Only her continued cooperation in the war against SD-6 and the Alliance kept her from a federal prison. She had no illusions about her status.
The door shut and locked. Sydney was standing at the window, looking at her. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” she said, “unless they send me on a mission.”
“Fine. I’m not going anywhere,” she responded, smiling, “and try to practice what I showed you.”
Two days later, Sydney was gone on a mission for SD-6 that Sloane and Sark had set up for her. Jack had not been in the loop. When he confronted Sloane about it, Sloane smiled. “Don’t worry, Jack. It’s a pick-up mission. Should be easy.”
“Where?”
“Moscow!”
“Wait a minute,” Jack snapped, “didn’t we send someone to Moscow last week to pick up some information and they disappeared?”
“Yes, but the man wasn’t as experienced as Sydney. Sark thought the other agent had been careless. Sydney doesn’t get careless. We’ve told her to make sure she has a clean pick-up before going in.” Sloane patted Jack on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Marshall inserted a tracking device into her shoulder. We’re tracking her now. Come, I’ll show you.”
They walked over to Marshall Flinkman’s office and lab. A television was on and Marshall was watching it carefully. He straightened when the two men entered. “Hi, just was watching our Sydney’s point.” He gestured at the
screen.
Jack turned to look. The screen showed a map of Moscow in the broadest of scenes. There was a small blinking light visually on the screen. Jack peered at the map. “Where is she?”
“We’re not able to get the exact location pinpointed, but she is in the district where she is to make the pick-up.”
Jack looked at Marshall. “You’d better tell me if that point stops blinking.” His voice was menacing and unsmiling.
“Absolutely.”
That night, Jack went to the United States Intelligence Task Force Center, to see his wife, Irina Derevko. The cell doors opened into the cellblock. He walked to the window. Irina had been in her bunk. She had pulled the prison robe over her naked body when she heard the first cell door move. “It’s a little late, Jack!” She commented sleepily.
He stared at her. He remembered all the nights they had spent together. He knew she liked sleeping nude. He swallowed, then said, “Sydney’s been sent to Moscow and Sloane won’t tell me anything other than it is a simple pick-up. The trouble is the man they sent last week is currently missing. He did not return for extraction when he was supposed to come out.” He looked worried.
Now he had Irina frowning. “And they don’t know where she is?”
“Marshall put a GPS tracking point in her shoulder and the Alliance’s satellite is tracking her.”
“Where in Moscow?”
“The map was too generalized. I couldn’t tell anything about streets. Arvin said she was in the district where the pickup was to be made.”
“And --?”
“What could she be picking up?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, not really. There are too many possibilities.”
Jack’s pager went off. He looked down. “Christ, it’s Marshall.” He ran to the cell doors, motioning to the guards to let him out.
“Jack! Tell me.”
It wasn’t good. Marshall reported to both Jack and Sloane that the point had disappeared off the screen. Jack was furious. They had no way of knowing where she was and who was involved. Jack’s usual cool demeanor was destroyed by the thought of his daughter missing. They had become closer than ever since working as double agents together. Marshall had faded into the background. He was no hero.
“Tell me what she was doing in Moscow?” Jack growled.
“She was picking up the names of the Russian Mafia bosses.”
“From who?” He glared. “
“Ivan Schmerzinskiy, one of Derevko’s men. He claimed to have their names.”
“Do you know how close you are to dying?” Jack glared at Sark. “You sent her in after one man went missing? Do you know this – this Schmerzinskiy?”
“Not really. He was a Derevko operative. Since she went missing, her men have been drifting. I think he got some Intel that he wanted to pass on for some money.”
“If anything has happened to Sydney…” Jack was angry and worried.
Moscow
It was close to midnight when Sydney slipped out of the apartment building and entered a cab. She gave him directions to the bar where the meet was to take place. Paying off the driver, she waited a full ten minutes. in the shadow of a building. Then she crossed the street to where she was to meet Ivan Schmerzinskiy in a small dimly lit bar. She glanced in the dirty window and saw some tables, a bar and a couple of people. They men looked up when she entered. They saw only a dimly lighted figure, tall, wearing a leather jacket over tailored pants and shirt.
“Ivan Schmerzinskiy?” The voice was that of a woman.
The bartender nodded toward a man seated at a table in the back of the room. Sydney turned and walked toward Ivan, who half rose in his chair as she approached.
“Do you have the money?”
“Da.” She took out an envelope from her inside pocket. It was the money to pay for the names of the two men who were members of the Russian mafia. “First, the names!”
He handed her a slip of paper. She looked at it and handed the paper back. “Don’t you want them?” He was confused.
“Here’s your money,” she said, turning to go. Suddenly she saw a big powerfully built man, who was advancing on her with a knife. “Come with me,” he said. He outweighed her about one hundred fifty pounds.
“No!” She answered sharply and attacked. That caused a moment’s hesitation in his action. The man struck at her with the knife, missing her only by a hair’s breadth. He feinted and then ducked one of her kicks. He leaped at her, the knife again swishing in the air. This time it nicked her in the shoulder blade. Suddenly, she made the slickest move the bartender had ever seen. All he saw was her legs suddenly around the thug’s neck. The man seemed startled, as she twisted her body and legs. The bartender heard a snap and the thug fell like a stone to the ground, his head hanging at an odd angle. The bartender knew his neck was broken.
Ivan was in shock. The fight had taken only a minute. He had a hard time believing what he had seen. He turned and ran to the rear of the room, scrambling past chairs and tables, to get out.
The front door opened and two uniformed men entered. They were the politzei, police. “Hands up,” one cried at Sydney as she tried leaving the same way Ivan had. She put up her hands.
“What happened here?” Asked the senior of the two. The younger officer was handcuffing Sydney, hands behind her back. He began pushing her out the front door towards their police car.
The bartender nodded to the man on the floor and told the officer he thought the man was dead. The woman had killed him while they were fighting. He said he hadn’t seen that kind of a killing move for many, many years.
“What do you mean, killing move?”
“That was an old KGB technique.”
The officer looked at the dead man. “We’ll see what we can learn from the prisoner. She doesn’t look old enough to have been a KGB agent.”
Los Angeles
Back at SD-6, Marshall came running into Jack’s office. “Agent Bristow, we’ve lost her signal.”
“The point?”
“Yes, and I don’t know why because everything’s working at this end. It must be at Sydney’s.” He really looked distressed. “Something’s happened to it.”