At last my heart beat is under control What an episode! I thought I would have a heart attack a couple of times. OH NO!! popped into my head non stop. Reading the forums etc so it seems did everyone else.Now we wait for two weeks for Truth Takes Time and if you think the writers are going to tell all, I think we'd all buy the Brooklyn Bridge!
Anyway here's the last part of my non-convaluted story which is a straightforward tale.
All characters belong to JJ Abrams and his evil cadre of writers.
AT LIBERTY- Part 4
Moscow
Sydney stood in front of the apartment door and quickly knocked. The hallway was not well lighted. The door opened. A tall, broad-shouldered man looked down at her. He must have been six foot five at least. In the dim light she saw that his hair was beginning to turn gray.
“Grandpa, I’m Sydney Annya Derevko-Bristow.”
He stared at her a brief moment, then gripping her arm, pulled her inside and shut the door. It was brighter in the room. He pulled her over to the kitchen where he had been when she knocked, and looked her over. “Sydney! You look like my Annya!” Then he hugged her tightly.
Los Angeles – 24 hours earlier
Sydney sat facing her mother. They were talking quietly and in Russian.
“Do you trust me!” Irina had opened the conversation with those words.
Sydney had closed her eyes for a moment, “Yes, I trust you.”
“I want you to do something for me. It shouldn’t be dangerous, but it will be most productive for the CIA.”
“What?”
“The question is can you leave town?” Irina studied her daughter.
“I think so, I can say I’m getting ready for my orals on my dissertation.”
“Good! Now pay attention to what I’m about to tell you.”
(An earlier scene at the cell) Jack is standing talking to Irina. “So you don’t know where Richter hid your Bible?”
She nodded. “He never got back to me.” She looked at him carefully. “Did SD-6 capture him?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“He’s dead?”
Sloane had him killed after he gave erroneous information.”
“I don’t suppose you’d tell me what that was?”
He shrugged, “He was being sentimental. Sloane wanted the location of the Bible. Richter said “Smeela” Of course we went there and there was no bible anywhere to be found. He had meant Smeela, his wife.”
“Poor man!” Irina said softly.
Moscow
Sydney looked at the man who was her grandfather. He had the biggest smile on his face. He poured her some tea and asked if she wanted anything to eat. She shook her head.
“Your Mother, she is well?”
“You know where she is now?”
“Da,” he took her hands in his, “are you worried for her?”
Sydney nodded. “She’s under a death warrant.”
“Da, I know.” He paused, “but you see her and you talk? What you think of my girl, your Mother?”
Sydney smiled, “She seems so kind and sometimes not so nice. I am puzzled by her.”
Mikhail Alexandrovich laughed. “Your Mother has had a very hard life. She told me not so long ago that the ten years in America had been her happiest.” He looked at Sydney’s surprised expression. “Ah, well, ummm, suppose you tell me why she wanted you to see me?”
“I need a Russian passport and necessary papers, as well as airplane tickets to Prague, Budapest and Vienna.”
“Done.” He smiled. “Now sit with your granpapa and tell him all about America and you.”
Prague
Sydney walked up some stairs. It was very late. There were not many people about at this hour. She stopped at a door and knocked. “Who’s there?”
“I have a message.” Sydney spoke in Russian as her mother instructed.
“Who sends a message at this hour?”
“The Man!”
The door flew open. A woman, about 50 pounds heavier than she should be, stood in front of Sydney. She had her hair up in a French roll. It was graying. She had dark suspicious eyes. “The Man has not been heard from for six months!”
“Let me in,” hissed Sydney and she pushed by the other woman.
The door shut behind her. Now there was a gun in her hand and she was not smiling. “Who are you?”
“Klaus Richter’s wife, Smeela, has died.”
“Follow me,” the woman walked down a hallway.
Sydney entered a room that looked like it could be an office. The woman left her without another word. Sydney pulled the fire alarm next to a picture. Then looking in the closet found a briefcase. She opened lower drawer on the left side of the desk. There was the keypad. She punched in the numbers, turned and watched as a sliding panel opened to reveal a safe.
Minutes later, she returned to the front room where the woman was waiting. “Did you find everything?”
Sydney nodded. “In the desk is an envelope for you. Irina says it is time to retire and go home. The game is too dangerous.”
Los Angeles
“The most dangerous is Grigor Stoly in Budapest. He is rough, coarse and very, very suspicious. Can you handle a man like that!” She looked at Sydney without any emotion.
“What’s his background?”
“KGB prison guard!”
Now Sydney studied her mother. “And you used him why?”
“He was reliable and is in love with me.”
Sydney grinned, then nodded.
Budapest
It was night again. The city was quiet in this sector of working class people, stores and shops; most of them were closed. The dark figure entered the bar. It too was nearly empty, though there were still some men sitting at a table drinking. They looked up when the door opened. They stared at the woman, dressed in black, including the Russian winter hat.
“Is Grigor Stoly here?”
One man pointed to a door.
She said nothing, but went to the door and opened it. “Grigor?”
And stepped inside.
When the door closed behind her, Sydney saw that Grigor was not alone. She walked toward the desk. “I have a message.”
“Who are you?” His voice was grating, rough. He had all the signs of a man who had lived a rough life and was not going to stop now. His eyes shifted to the two men and he gave a slight nod. They started toward the woman, who without warning, pulled a gun from her waistband underneath the black coat. She fired twice; the first bullet went into the shoulder of the man on her right and the other bullet into the shoulder of the other man. Both dropped. Her gun swung around and pointed at Grigor Stoly’s left eye. He had been in the process of drawing his gun when hers stopped any more movement.
“The message is from The Man.”
He smiled, “why didn’t you say so?”
“You don’t give a lady time.” She stared him down. “The message is Klaus Richter’s wife, Smeela, is dead.”
“This way,” Grigor turned and led the way to a room behind his. “In here.”
Sydney paused at the doorway. The office was as her mother had described it. “I will be only a few minutes. When I leave, return to the desk. There is an envelope under one of the drawers. The Man suggests you sell the bar and return to the Motherland. You are in great danger, dear Grigor.”
Los Angeles
“The third one is Helmut Rostoff in Vienna. He was a prisoner at that prison in Kashmir when I was. He survived, but was not happy, so he joined my organization. He might be the hardest to persuade to go home. He married a Viennese woman.”
“What danger?”
“Sark and, of course, Sloane.” Irina put her hand up against the window. Sydney matched it. “I am not sure, but I think Sark knows about Helmut. He may think him insignificant now, but, “ she hesitated, “I did not have time to change the destination. Klaus was going to bring a portion of the book to Helmut before I knew about Sark. Sydney, you must be very careful. He could be watched.”
Vienna
Sydney left hand gripped the briefcase tighter than before. One more stop. It was scary, being out here without backup or someone to talk to her as she completed a mission. Yet she knew this was the biggest mission she had ever been given. Her Mother, with 86 counts of espionage and a death warrant, had given herself up to the CIA saying she would help them destroy SD-6 and the Alliance. Now she was in a cell by herself waiting for her daughter to bring home a piece of her life, her “bible” in which, was detailed all the information the FBI and CIA needed to bring down these two monstrous organizations.
She left the car in a parking garage. She would walk to Helmut Rostoff’s office. It was daylight and there were a lot of people about. He had an insurance agency in one of the buildings close by. She glanced at herself as she walked past a window. She had changed to a nice suit, blouse, heels and a blond wig. She looked like an employee of any office in the building. Sydney stood with a group of office workers, waiting for the elevator. Glancing to her left she saw Sark! He did not look at her or really paid attention to anything other than the elevator.
Suddenly the doors opened. Sydney stepped inside, only to see Sark come around the corner to enter also. He stood with his back to her. She saw him reach over and punch the button for the 20th floor. It was the floor that Rostoff had his offices located. Sydney did not get off when Sark did, instead she went up to the next floor.
She thought a moment, then walked down a corridor to where she saw the stairway exit. A minute later, she had her cell phone out and dialing CIA headquarters. She had a plan, but wanted to know the layout of Rostoff’s office. Only Irina could tell her.
Los Angeles
“Agent Weiss.”
“This is mountaineer, voice code Alpha Charlie, 710. I need to speak to Derevko.”
“Let me check!”
“Don’t check, get this phone to her immediately.”
Weiss looked around. Kendall wasn’t here and neither was Vaughn. He knew they were looking for Sydney. “Where are you?”
“Vienna. Don’t waste time”.
“All right!” Weiss made an executive decision he was sure would be approved.
Running with the cell phone, he approached the cellblock. “I need to talk to Derevko. Get the doors up.” He waited impatiently as they lifted.
Finally, the last one went up. A buzzer sounded which warned the prisoner someone was coming.
He stopped in front of the cell, waving the cell phone. “It’s Sydney.”
Irina came up to the window. “Pass me the phone.”
“No I can’t.” He spoke into the phone. “I have to relay…” he listened. Glancing about he noticed the guard was probably around the corner. He passed the phone thru the drawer.
Irina grabbed it, “Yes?” She listened. “There is another door. A door to the storeroom where the janitor supplies are kept. Go to the back of the storeroom. There is a clothes hook. Pull it. The panel will open. Go inside. You will be in the wall behind Rostoff’s desk. You can hear everything. If you need to get into the room, there is a button on the right that will admit you inside.”
Vienna
Sydney got to the storeroom and in three strides, was at the rear. She pulled the clothes hook and the panel opened. She stepped inside. There was a passageway. She could hear voices. She felt her way to the point where she could hear.
“I don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Don’t be foolish. Irina Derevko is gone. Why be loyal to someone who doesn’t care about you?” Sark snarled. “You can work for me and be paid better than she can pay you.”
“Get out. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you crazy? Who is Irina Derevko?”
“You stupid little man,” shouted Sark. ‘You will tell me what I want to know. Where is the book?”
There was movement and then the sound of a fist hitting flesh, hard.
Rostoff cried out. Then another cry that was cut off as though someone were being strangled. Sydney hit the button gently so the door slid a crack. She looked. Sark had come to the desk, his back to her, and was in the process of choking Helmut Rostoff. Dark fury made him look as evil as he was.
Sydney pulled out her gun, opened the door, took one step inside the room and swung the gun, striking Sark hard. He slumped to the floor. Helmut staggered away, looking at her in astonishment.
“Klaus Richter’s wife Smeela is dead.” She said in Russian.
“Oh God,” he whispered horrified, “I destroyed the contents. When I saw him and before he entered, I knew I didn’t have much time.”
“Then we must get you out of here. No time at all to spare. Irina wanted you to have this. Can you leave?”
“My business!”
“Or your life?”
Los Angeles
Jack, Vaughn and Kendall stood in front of Irina’s cell and all three were angry. She stood facing them defiantly.
“Who do you think you are, sending her on a mission?” Jack roared.
“Her Mother!” she snapped.
“You’re a prisoner,” yelled Kendall. “You have no rights, Mother or not.
I’ve a mind to put you in solitary for a couple of weeks.”
“I am in solitary every day when no one comes to talk to me.” She raged back at him.
Vaughn was as distraught, but he was also interested in finding out where Sydney had gone and why. He stepped forward, shouldering Kendall out of the way.
“Where did Sydney go and why?” He asked calmly.
Irina stopped and looked at him, seeing his concern. “She’s in Vienna, picking up my ‘bible.’” All three gaped at her. “She’s bringing it to you, Jack.”
