Here we go with an interesting premise...Irina and Vaughn together in trouble...what angst...what happens in this tense relationship...
As always these characters belong to JJ Abrams and his evil cadre of writers...
The story is co-written as you can hopefully see.
Enjoy
A DEATH IN KASHMIR
BY LENAFAN & KYLO4
CHAPTER ONE
KIDNAPPED
Irina sat looking out the window as the plane flew toward Paris in the late spring. She was going to Sydney’s wedding. It would be a family affair with she and Jack, Vaughn’s mother, Irina’s father and a few close friends from the CIA: Dixon, Weiss, Marshall Flinkman and his wife, Carrie, and, of course, Will Tippin. Vaughn’s mother! She had been so taken aback when Sydney told her she would be there. She had assumed Bill’s wife was dead. Now she would have to face and talk to the wife of the man she had killed so many years ago. That was going to be difficult.
Someone was standing close by. She looked up to see the stewardess. “Yes?”
“The gentleman over there,” she pointed in the direction of a dark-haired, dark skinned man sitting two rows in front of her and on the other side of the aisle, “would like to buy you a drink. I said I would ask.”
“Tell him thanks, but I don’t know him and,” she paused, “he does not know who I am. Do you?”
The stewardess nodded, “Yes, Colonel, I do.”
Irina looked at her. “Then…you will take care of it for me?”
“Of course.”
Irina smiled to herself. She still was attractive enough to have someone want to buy her a drink. She wondered what Jack would say. She touched the diamond ring he had given to her on the occasion of their last anniversary. He had been absolutely floored when she produced the wedding band she had kept for so many years, asking him to put it back on her finger. That night had been a wonderful reprise of the time in Hawaii.
Her heart missed a beat as she thought about tonight when they would together again. She planned to stay in Paris for three or four days, not only to attend the wedding, but also, to be with Jack. It had been two months since she had seen him. She looked out the window again. She wondered if he would be picking her up.
Sydney looked at Vaughn adoringly. He was so handsome. He was putting on his jacket. She had asked him to go to the airport to pick up Mom. His mother was already in Paris and Jack promised to show her a little of the city. Then, Irina had called to say she was taking an earlier flight and would be landing about ten in the morning. General Probukov, Sydney’s grandfather was coming later. Sydney had some last minute things to do before the wedding, so she’d asked him to go. She knew Irina was not his favorite person to be alone with, but he did agree. He still had issues about the death of his father and the two of them had never really talked about it. He was forever dodging the discussion even though Irina seemed to be willing now.
Sydney sighed. One of these days… “It’s almost nine thirty. You’d better get going.”
“Well she’s got to go through customs.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s got a diplomatic passport.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He grabbed the keys to the rental car, kissed her and left.
Irina stood at the baggage center watching for her bag. She had packed lightly, so once she found her it, she could exit out to the loading area. She trusted Sydney to make sure someone would pick her up.
“Excuse me, Colonel Derevko.” The voice was soft and with an Arabic accent.
She turned to see the man from the plane – the one who had offered to buy her a drink. “Yes?”
“I wish to apologize for intruding upon you in the plane. You are a very attractive woman. I would have liked to talk to you.”
She smiled. “Thank you, but I’m married. I do not know you. I hope you will understand.” She studied him for a moment and decided she did not like him, although she was sure they had never met.
“Then I shall leave. Again, my apologies.” He turned and left.
Her bag tumbled out of the baggage tunnel onto the carousel. She picked it up and with her passport in hand was waved through. She exited out the double doors into the loading area. She looked around. She didn’t see Jack or Sydney. She certainly stood out among other waiting passengers. She was in a rust colored woolen pants suit, wearing high heeled boots which put her at about six two. Her hair was the color of brown chestnuts with hints of red gold throughout. Around her shoulders she had tossed a lightweight coat. She put on dark glasses as it was bright outside, a beautiful spring day in Paris.
She heard a horn, turned and saw a car pulling up in front of her. The driver got out and she saw it was Vaughn. She gave him a brief smile. He took her bag and put it into the trunk, then held the door for her to get.
“You are looking good, Michael.” Irina smiled again at him.
“Thanks!” He pulled out into traffic. Neither said anything for a time.
“How have you been,” she asked.
“Fine, and you?”
“Fine…” her voice trailed off a little, then she swallowed, “I understand your Mother is going to be here also.”
He nodded, not wishing to look at her. “Yeah, she’s out with Jack right now, doing some sight-seeing.”
“Good, it is a beautiful city,” she said. She looked down at her hands, the ones that held the gun to his father’s head and finger that pulled the trigger.
Vaughn said nothing more. He was busy driving and always had felt uncomfortable around Irina. Ahead there seemed to be congestion. A couple of police cars were blocking the way. Two men jumped out and motioned him to turn right in a detour. He swung the wheel and turned down a narrow street. Suddenly a black SUV pulled out in front of them and stopped. Vaughn jammed on the brakes. Then the car was hit from the rear, jamming him up against the SUV. The front doors were pulled open. Gas was shot into both their faces. Irina and Vaughn immediately lost consciousness. They were pulled out and carried into the back of the front SUV. One man drove them off, the other climbed in behind the wheel of Vaughn’s car and followed. The car that had been behind turned at the first opportunity and melted into traffic. There was no evidence that Irina and Vaughn had ever been there.
They had disappeared.
As always these characters belong to JJ Abrams and his evil cadre of writers...
The story is co-written as you can hopefully see.
Enjoy
A DEATH IN KASHMIR
BY LENAFAN & KYLO4
CHAPTER ONE
KIDNAPPED
Irina sat looking out the window as the plane flew toward Paris in the late spring. She was going to Sydney’s wedding. It would be a family affair with she and Jack, Vaughn’s mother, Irina’s father and a few close friends from the CIA: Dixon, Weiss, Marshall Flinkman and his wife, Carrie, and, of course, Will Tippin. Vaughn’s mother! She had been so taken aback when Sydney told her she would be there. She had assumed Bill’s wife was dead. Now she would have to face and talk to the wife of the man she had killed so many years ago. That was going to be difficult.
Someone was standing close by. She looked up to see the stewardess. “Yes?”
“The gentleman over there,” she pointed in the direction of a dark-haired, dark skinned man sitting two rows in front of her and on the other side of the aisle, “would like to buy you a drink. I said I would ask.”
“Tell him thanks, but I don’t know him and,” she paused, “he does not know who I am. Do you?”
The stewardess nodded, “Yes, Colonel, I do.”
Irina looked at her. “Then…you will take care of it for me?”
“Of course.”
Irina smiled to herself. She still was attractive enough to have someone want to buy her a drink. She wondered what Jack would say. She touched the diamond ring he had given to her on the occasion of their last anniversary. He had been absolutely floored when she produced the wedding band she had kept for so many years, asking him to put it back on her finger. That night had been a wonderful reprise of the time in Hawaii.
Her heart missed a beat as she thought about tonight when they would together again. She planned to stay in Paris for three or four days, not only to attend the wedding, but also, to be with Jack. It had been two months since she had seen him. She looked out the window again. She wondered if he would be picking her up.
Sydney looked at Vaughn adoringly. He was so handsome. He was putting on his jacket. She had asked him to go to the airport to pick up Mom. His mother was already in Paris and Jack promised to show her a little of the city. Then, Irina had called to say she was taking an earlier flight and would be landing about ten in the morning. General Probukov, Sydney’s grandfather was coming later. Sydney had some last minute things to do before the wedding, so she’d asked him to go. She knew Irina was not his favorite person to be alone with, but he did agree. He still had issues about the death of his father and the two of them had never really talked about it. He was forever dodging the discussion even though Irina seemed to be willing now.
Sydney sighed. One of these days… “It’s almost nine thirty. You’d better get going.”
“Well she’s got to go through customs.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s got a diplomatic passport.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He grabbed the keys to the rental car, kissed her and left.
Irina stood at the baggage center watching for her bag. She had packed lightly, so once she found her it, she could exit out to the loading area. She trusted Sydney to make sure someone would pick her up.
“Excuse me, Colonel Derevko.” The voice was soft and with an Arabic accent.
She turned to see the man from the plane – the one who had offered to buy her a drink. “Yes?”
“I wish to apologize for intruding upon you in the plane. You are a very attractive woman. I would have liked to talk to you.”
She smiled. “Thank you, but I’m married. I do not know you. I hope you will understand.” She studied him for a moment and decided she did not like him, although she was sure they had never met.
“Then I shall leave. Again, my apologies.” He turned and left.
Her bag tumbled out of the baggage tunnel onto the carousel. She picked it up and with her passport in hand was waved through. She exited out the double doors into the loading area. She looked around. She didn’t see Jack or Sydney. She certainly stood out among other waiting passengers. She was in a rust colored woolen pants suit, wearing high heeled boots which put her at about six two. Her hair was the color of brown chestnuts with hints of red gold throughout. Around her shoulders she had tossed a lightweight coat. She put on dark glasses as it was bright outside, a beautiful spring day in Paris.
She heard a horn, turned and saw a car pulling up in front of her. The driver got out and she saw it was Vaughn. She gave him a brief smile. He took her bag and put it into the trunk, then held the door for her to get.
“You are looking good, Michael.” Irina smiled again at him.
“Thanks!” He pulled out into traffic. Neither said anything for a time.
“How have you been,” she asked.
“Fine, and you?”
“Fine…” her voice trailed off a little, then she swallowed, “I understand your Mother is going to be here also.”
He nodded, not wishing to look at her. “Yeah, she’s out with Jack right now, doing some sight-seeing.”
“Good, it is a beautiful city,” she said. She looked down at her hands, the ones that held the gun to his father’s head and finger that pulled the trigger.
Vaughn said nothing more. He was busy driving and always had felt uncomfortable around Irina. Ahead there seemed to be congestion. A couple of police cars were blocking the way. Two men jumped out and motioned him to turn right in a detour. He swung the wheel and turned down a narrow street. Suddenly a black SUV pulled out in front of them and stopped. Vaughn jammed on the brakes. Then the car was hit from the rear, jamming him up against the SUV. The front doors were pulled open. Gas was shot into both their faces. Irina and Vaughn immediately lost consciousness. They were pulled out and carried into the back of the front SUV. One man drove them off, the other climbed in behind the wheel of Vaughn’s car and followed. The car that had been behind turned at the first opportunity and melted into traffic. There was no evidence that Irina and Vaughn had ever been there.
They had disappeared.