sunsetgirl
Cadet
Your fic is amazing.
Great job.
Great job.
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Eyghon
Author’s notes: I had to cut this chapter because it was way too long, so 'the end' I mentioned will actually be in chapter 13. Enjoy and review please!
Chapter 12: Home, at last
Francine Calfo quietly made her way up to her room. Her parents were sleeping in the room next to hers. She was supposed to stay home and study but instead she had decided to go to Will's to watch movies. Her parents would freak if they knew what she had done so she couldn't afford to be caught.
After silently climbing the wooden stairs, she found herself in the hallway. There were no risks now, as the floor wouldn't creak. From afar, she could see her bedroom door was open. It was rather strange because she had closed it before climbing out the window. What was the point in going over the wall if the wide open door gave her away by allowing anyone passing by to see she wasn't there? If her parents had noticed she had vanished, surely they wouldn't have simply gotten back into bed. They would have waited for her. Now standing in the doorway, she froze at the sight that greeted her.
A woman was standing in the middle of her room, half hidden by the shadows. At hearing Francie's gasp, she turned around sharply. Francie was still standing at the same spot, mouth gaping open.
"Sydney!" She had just spotted her best friend's limp body in the woman's arms. Francie covered her mouth, eyes widening. Bruises covered Sydney’s face.
"She's asleep," murmured the woman, turning back around.
Francie watched the woman's every move as she walked toward the bed and slowly, as if reluctantly, lowered her burden on it. The young girl shifted, missing the warmth of the woman's embrace.
Irina faced her daughter's friend. "You didn't see me here tonight." Francie blinked. "You found her here when you came home. She was alone and you saw no one. Do you understand?" This time, Francie nodded and watched as the woman stepped around her. In the hallway, Irina turned toward her once more, and nonchalantly said, her voice cold as steel, "don't make me come back for you."
Francie didn't wait to see if the woman had left her house and rushed to her friend's side. “Sydney!” she whispered loudly. She could see her friend’s chest rise and fall. Reassured, she tentatively reached out and shook her shoulder. Sydney didn't budge. She was sleeping as if in a coma. Francie observed her more closely. She wasn’t wearing the same clothes as the day she went missing. Francie stroked Sydney’s cheek. She was warm but her face was covered in cuts and bruises. Yet she seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
Not sure what to do, and worried about her friend's inability to wake up, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911. She explained that she had found her friend asleep and couldn’t wake her up. The annoying operator asked if she had consumed any substance; understand drugs, medication, or alcohol. Francie barked her address and hang up. She found the card Jack Bristow had left her and dialed the number on it. He had told her to call her at any hour of day or night if she remembered anything.
“Mr. Bristow?”
“Who is this?” grumbled the man.
“Francie, Francie Calfo, Sydney’s friend."
“What is it Miss Calfo?"
“It's Sydney, she's here!"
“I beg your pardon?"
“Sydney, she's here, at my place, in my room! I just got home and I found her here, she's asleep, I think, but I can't get her to wake up!" Francie was getting hysterical. Why was everyone having a hard time understanding the situation?
"Alright, I'm on my way."
Before she could reply, he hung up.
Sydney slowly came too. Blinding lights were hanging from the ceiling. She frowned, there was a strange smell floating in the air. Her mouth was dry, her whole body felt numb and the bed sheets were scratching her.
"Sydney?" asked a worried voice.
Sydney blinked hard, trying to focus, "Fran?"
“Yes, it's me."
“Where am I?" croaked Sydney.
"In Los Angeles, at Cedars-Sinai Hospital. You're home, Sydney."
“Oh! Francie, you're all right. I saw her hit you…"
"Yeah I'm fine. I got a minor concussion but I'm okay now. I still have a bump if you want to touch," she added, joking.
"I'm so sorry! It's all my fault…"
"Don't be ridiculous," Francie interrupted, "you should worry about yourself, I'm sorry to be blunt but you look like shi*t girl!"
Sydney smiled; she had missed her friend and her uncommon humour. Frowning, she asked, "Seriously, how did I end up here?"
“That's what I'd like to know," said Jack Bristow, who had just come entered the room.
"Dad!"
“Hello Sydney." He smiled at her, and nodded toward Francie as a greeting. He was dressed as usual, impeccably in suit, tie, shirt, and shiny shoes. He was clean-shaven, didn't seem tired or worried. The only thing betraying the events of the last few days was the sling in which rested his left arm. "Miss Calfo, would you mind leaving us please?"
“Uh yeah…sure, no problem," she agreed, though slightly taken aback by Jack's request. "See you later Syd." She kissed her friend on the cheek and left the room.
Jack approached his daughter's bed and asked crisply, "How are you feeling?"
“Funny…but in a weird way. What is that?" She asked, pointing to his arm.
"I…hurt my shoulder, but it's a minor injury, nothing to worry about."
“Good, I was so worried about you…they told me things…"
"I thought so. Are you feeling good enough to answer some questions?" He asked gently, taking a seat by her side, a concerned look on his face.
"Yeah, I guess."
“I talked to your doctor earlier; you don't have any injuries that warrant a long stay here. You can go home with me tomorrow afternoon."
“Sounds great," smiled Sydney.
"Now, what I want to know is how you got to your friend's house."
“My friend's house? What do you mean?"
Jack was had his business face on. It reminded Sydney of when she would come home from friends' houses. He would openly scrutinize her, looking for clues to see if she was lying or hiding something. He was doing the same thing right now.
"Dad?" insisted a confused Sydney.
"What is the last thing you remember?"
“Err…" She thought hard. What was she supposed to say or not? Moreover, how in hell had she ended up here? The last thing she remembered was kissing her mother goodnight, but she couldn't tell her father that. "I was in a car, and there was an accident. I blacked out and here I am." Talking about her previous awakening was the best course of action. She would act as if what happened in Italy had actually never existed. It was the most logical thing to do.
"That's all? I need more details, it's important Sydney, make an effort," insisted her father.
"I'm trying!" She sighed. "They put me in a car…"
"They? Who are 'they'? How many were they; what kind of car was it?"
“Dad! I…I was scared, okay? I was scared and it's all a blur! It's not that easy!"
“Just…give me as many details as you can," encouraged Jack, softening.
Sydney sighed. "So they put me in a car, I don't know what kind because I was blindfolded." She swallowed hard. "There were four men, but one got into another car. I didn't see their faces. They were new, I think."
“New?" prompted Jack.
"Yeah, there was this guy, Nikolai; he was here from the beginning. He was the leader," she added. He would have asked if there was a chief, best to cover that now. "Then three new guys arrived, to take me from Russia to the Ukraine."
“Was it him, the leader?" Jack showed his daughter a picture of the man identified by the CIA while stealing a car used in Sydney's kidnapping.
"Yeah!"
“What happened after you got in the car?"
“We drove for a while, there was nothing, no traffic, and it was quiet. Then there were loud noises, we got into some kind of accident I guess."
“How did the accident happen?"
Sydney wondered what she should do. She knew how it had happened of course. Irina's mercenaries had caused it, but if she told him masked men had rescued her, he would try to discover who had hired them…
"Sydney, how did the accident happen?" Repeated Jack annoyed.
"I don't know. I told you I was blindfolded, and then I blacked out during the crash," quickly explained Sydney, looking away.
Jack felt she was hiding something, but decided not to push the issue for now. Maybe he was imagining things. After all, why would Sydney hide information about her kidnappers? That sounded ridiculous…but still, something wasn't right.
"You told me you were in Russia. Do you know how you got there?"
“Yeah, by plane, but they drugged me as soon as I woke up."
“Woke up. From what?"
“They drugged me before, then I woke up in a plane, and they drugged me again, and after that we were in a house, in Russia."
“Did you see any of these people's faces?"
“No, only Nikolai."
“Who was with him?"
“What do you mean?" Her throat tightened, this was the delicate part.
"From what Miss Calfo told us, someone knocked her over the head from behind. What were you doing in the meantime?"
“Nikolai grabbed me. After a while, the woman who hit Fran helped the guy to get me in a car. No, it was a van actually."
“A woman? You never mentioned a woman before."
“Yeah…I was in and out you know, it's a little fuzzy and they both had ski masks. I was so scared," she added, half seeking his comfort, half to get him off her back.
Jack nodded, thoughtful. "Get some rest, we'll finish later." He got up and pecked her on the cheek. It surprised her. It was only a peck, but still, he never showed any outward affection toward her usually. She didn't mind the gesture.
"Where are you going?"
“I have work to do Sydney. Don't worry, there's a guard outside your door, nothing is going to happen to you here." He left, without any explanation about his involvement in this whole mess. Sydney didn't care if there was a guard or not. She just wanted her father, but apparently, he didn't understand that. He was gone already.
The next morning, Jack came back, still looking like he was here for business, but a little less…tense than the day before.
"How are you feeling?"
“Fine."
He nodded curtly and eyed his surroundings, not so sure of what he should do now. He didn't want to leave. There was nothing to do at the office and he preferred not to leave Sydney alone, at least for now. He felt guilty and needed to be here. Eventually, he settled in the chair by his daughter's bed and opened the newspaper he had brought with him.
"Dad?" Sydney called out, irritated by his apparent indifference.
"Yes? What is it Sydney?"
“Are we going to talk about it or just pretend like nothing happened?"
“Talk about what Sydney?"
She sighed. He wanted to play hard to get. Fine with her. "Yesterday you questioned me like a criminal. I felt like I had done something wrong. I hadn't. Today it's my turn to ask the question, and you are at fault."
For a fraction of a second, she saw him flinch. He lost his cool. It was brief, but she saw it. She smirked inwardly, so he wasn't flawless after all. Before he could find an excuse to run out on her, she attacked bitterly. "The movie. You know why they did it?"
His lips set on a thin line and he nodded curtly.
"Are you going to apologize?"
He blinked, "why should I?"
“You know why." Then, she lost her cool. His lack of reaction was infuriating. "God damn it, Dad! That guy beat the felgercarb out of me because you played smart-ass! Why did you do that? Why couldn't you just do what they told you to do!"
“You'll be out of here tomorrow Sydney. There's no long-term damage. You'll be sore for a few days and that's it."
“I thought he was going to kill me!"
“I'm sorry, Sydney. I'm sorry this happened to you. I never wanted you to get caught in the middle."
“You lied to me." Her tone softened, he had apologized. Her father had apologized to her.
"I did it to protect you."
“They said they wanted information from you, because you were an agent of the US government. What are you? FBI? NSA? CIA?"
“I'll go find your doctor. Maybe you're good enough to get out of here now."
Sydney smiled and nodded. She wouldn't get her answers but she had won some points. Getting her out of here was his way to make it up to her. She hated hospitals. The sooner she was out of here, the happier she would be.
"Dad, wait."
“Yes?"
“What happened to me? After I lost consciousness I mean, how did I get here?"
“I don’t know. Your friend, Francine, she found you on her bed. She called 911."
Sydney frowned, wondering why her mother had brought her back home like that.
Taking her confusion for worry, Jack added, "She said you were asleep, and that you looked peaceful.”
“What else? You're hiding something." It was just a hunch, Jack Bristow was unreadable, but he fell for it and answered her.
"The lab exams revealed different substances in your bloodstream. They found chemicals used in sleeping drugs. My best guess is they drugged you and brought you back here. But that doesn't explain the painkillers."
Sydney's eyes narrowed. He was looking straight at her, as if he knew. She gulped and tried to control her emotions. She was being paranoid. There was no way he could know.
"What do you mean?"
“Did they give you pills?"
“Yeah…I was feeling really bad, I guess they wanted me to make it to the exchange." She shrugged nonchalantly.
Jack nodded and left.
Sydney was now alone in her hospital room. She thought back to the events of the previous night, trying to get rid of the fog that surrounded it. She wondered what had really happened, and why. Her mother must have drugged her somehow, maybe while she was sleeping. Then it hit her, the tea. They had had a long, honest talk, or that's what Sydney thought at the time, and all the while Irina knew it would be the last time they would see each other, because she had decided so.
Since the beginning, she had naively thought her mother would bring her home, as in 'at her house'. Unconsciously, she knew it wouldn't happen. She knew there would be no tearful family reunion between the three of them. She had dreamed of such a thing all her life, since a little girl. Even after she knew 'people in heaven' couldn’t come back down, she had hoped. Now, after her mother's warning and promise, she still couldn't help but be disappointed and surprised to find herself alone, in a Los Angeles hospital. Her mother had fulfilled her promises, to keep her safe and to bring her back home. She had never said anything about sticking around her and Jack. Only that she would keep an eye on her. Maybe she had kept that promise too; maybe she was out there, somewhere.
Actually, when Sydney thought of it, Irina hadn't lied to her; she only went behind her back to bring her home. Maybe it was for the best. Sydney wondered how she could have been able to say goodbye to her mother after all that happened. It was obvious, she couldn't have. It would have been more painful to say goodbye at the airport, or wherever Irina would have dropped her off, than to just kiss her goodnight and never see her again.
Sydney had blindly trusted her mother, and she was now 'paying the price'…Sydney scolded at herself. She was reacting as a bratty child, who only saw that she had been lied to. Okay she had lost control over things, yes, she felt betrayed, but what if it was for the best? After all, she didn't have to lie about how she had come back to America without ID or passport or money. She already had a hard time concealing her mother's involvement in this whole mess. Her father was even already suspicious of her, she could tell. She didn't need to give him one more reason to doubt her story by making up a story about how she got here. Irina had told her to tell the whole truth, but she couldn't betray her mother like that. In addition, it would ruin Jack.
What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?
TBC
Eyghon
Author’s notes: I had to cut this chapter because it was way too long, so 'the end' I mentioned will actually be in chapter 13. Enjoy and review please!
Chapter 12: Home, at last
Francine Calfo quietly made her way up to her room. Her parents were sleeping in the room next to hers. She was supposed to stay home and study but instead she had decided to go to Will's to watch movies. Her parents would freak if they knew what she had done so she couldn't afford to be caught.
After silently climbing the wooden stairs, she found herself in the hallway. There were no risks now, as the floor wouldn't creak. From afar, she could see her bedroom door was open. It was rather strange because she had closed it before climbing out the window. What was the point in going over the wall if the wide open door gave her away by allowing anyone passing by to see she wasn't there? If her parents had noticed she had vanished, surely they wouldn't have simply gotten back into bed. They would have waited for her. Now standing in the doorway, she froze at the sight that greeted her.
A woman was standing in the middle of her room, half hidden by the shadows. At hearing Francie's gasp, she turned around sharply. Francie was still standing at the same spot, mouth gaping open.
"Sydney!" She had just spotted her best friend's limp body in the woman's arms. Francie covered her mouth, eyes widening. Bruises covered Sydney’s face.
"She's asleep," murmured the woman, turning back around.
Francie watched the woman's every move as she walked toward the bed and slowly, as if reluctantly, lowered her burden on it. The young girl shifted, missing the warmth of the woman's embrace.
Irina faced her daughter's friend. "You didn't see me here tonight." Francie blinked. "You found her here when you came home. She was alone and you saw no one. Do you understand?" This time, Francie nodded and watched as the woman stepped around her. In the hallway, Irina turned toward her once more, and nonchalantly said, her voice cold as steel, "don't make me come back for you."
Francie didn't wait to see if the woman had left her house and rushed to her friend's side. “Sydney!” she whispered loudly. She could see her friend’s chest rise and fall. Reassured, she tentatively reached out and shook her shoulder. Sydney didn't budge. She was sleeping as if in a coma. Francie observed her more closely. She wasn’t wearing the same clothes as the day she went missing. Francie stroked Sydney’s cheek. She was warm but her face was covered in cuts and bruises. Yet she seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
Not sure what to do, and worried about her friend's inability to wake up, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911. She explained that she had found her friend asleep and couldn’t wake her up. The annoying operator asked if she had consumed any substance; understand drugs, medication, or alcohol. Francie barked her address and hang up. She found the card Jack Bristow had left her and dialed the number on it. He had told her to call her at any hour of day or night if she remembered anything.
“Mr. Bristow?”
“Who is this?” grumbled the man.
“Francie, Francie Calfo, Sydney’s friend."
“What is it Miss Calfo?"
“It's Sydney, she's here!"
“I beg your pardon?"
“Sydney, she's here, at my place, in my room! I just got home and I found her here, she's asleep, I think, but I can't get her to wake up!" Francie was getting hysterical. Why was everyone having a hard time understanding the situation?
"Alright, I'm on my way."
Before she could reply, he hung up.
Sydney slowly came too. Blinding lights were hanging from the ceiling. She frowned, there was a strange smell floating in the air. Her mouth was dry, her whole body felt numb and the bed sheets were scratching her.
"Sydney?" asked a worried voice.
Sydney blinked hard, trying to focus, "Fran?"
“Yes, it's me."
“Where am I?" croaked Sydney.
"In Los Angeles, at Cedars-Sinai Hospital. You're home, Sydney."
“Oh! Francie, you're all right. I saw her hit you…"
"Yeah I'm fine. I got a minor concussion but I'm okay now. I still have a bump if you want to touch," she added, joking.
"I'm so sorry! It's all my fault…"
"Don't be ridiculous," Francie interrupted, "you should worry about yourself, I'm sorry to be blunt but you look like shi*t girl!"
Sydney smiled; she had missed her friend and her uncommon humour. Frowning, she asked, "Seriously, how did I end up here?"
“That's what I'd like to know," said Jack Bristow, who had just come entered the room.
"Dad!"
“Hello Sydney." He smiled at her, and nodded toward Francie as a greeting. He was dressed as usual, impeccably in suit, tie, shirt, and shiny shoes. He was clean-shaven, didn't seem tired or worried. The only thing betraying the events of the last few days was the sling in which rested his left arm. "Miss Calfo, would you mind leaving us please?"
“Uh yeah…sure, no problem," she agreed, though slightly taken aback by Jack's request. "See you later Syd." She kissed her friend on the cheek and left the room.
Jack approached his daughter's bed and asked crisply, "How are you feeling?"
“Funny…but in a weird way. What is that?" She asked, pointing to his arm.
"I…hurt my shoulder, but it's a minor injury, nothing to worry about."
“Good, I was so worried about you…they told me things…"
"I thought so. Are you feeling good enough to answer some questions?" He asked gently, taking a seat by her side, a concerned look on his face.
"Yeah, I guess."
“I talked to your doctor earlier; you don't have any injuries that warrant a long stay here. You can go home with me tomorrow afternoon."
“Sounds great," smiled Sydney.
"Now, what I want to know is how you got to your friend's house."
“My friend's house? What do you mean?"
Jack was had his business face on. It reminded Sydney of when she would come home from friends' houses. He would openly scrutinize her, looking for clues to see if she was lying or hiding something. He was doing the same thing right now.
"Dad?" insisted a confused Sydney.
"What is the last thing you remember?"
“Err…" She thought hard. What was she supposed to say or not? Moreover, how in hell had she ended up here? The last thing she remembered was kissing her mother goodnight, but she couldn't tell her father that. "I was in a car, and there was an accident. I blacked out and here I am." Talking about her previous awakening was the best course of action. She would act as if what happened in Italy had actually never existed. It was the most logical thing to do.
"That's all? I need more details, it's important Sydney, make an effort," insisted her father.
"I'm trying!" She sighed. "They put me in a car…"
"They? Who are 'they'? How many were they; what kind of car was it?"
“Dad! I…I was scared, okay? I was scared and it's all a blur! It's not that easy!"
“Just…give me as many details as you can," encouraged Jack, softening.
Sydney sighed. "So they put me in a car, I don't know what kind because I was blindfolded." She swallowed hard. "There were four men, but one got into another car. I didn't see their faces. They were new, I think."
“New?" prompted Jack.
"Yeah, there was this guy, Nikolai; he was here from the beginning. He was the leader," she added. He would have asked if there was a chief, best to cover that now. "Then three new guys arrived, to take me from Russia to the Ukraine."
“Was it him, the leader?" Jack showed his daughter a picture of the man identified by the CIA while stealing a car used in Sydney's kidnapping.
"Yeah!"
“What happened after you got in the car?"
“We drove for a while, there was nothing, no traffic, and it was quiet. Then there were loud noises, we got into some kind of accident I guess."
“How did the accident happen?"
Sydney wondered what she should do. She knew how it had happened of course. Irina's mercenaries had caused it, but if she told him masked men had rescued her, he would try to discover who had hired them…
"Sydney, how did the accident happen?" Repeated Jack annoyed.
"I don't know. I told you I was blindfolded, and then I blacked out during the crash," quickly explained Sydney, looking away.
Jack felt she was hiding something, but decided not to push the issue for now. Maybe he was imagining things. After all, why would Sydney hide information about her kidnappers? That sounded ridiculous…but still, something wasn't right.
"You told me you were in Russia. Do you know how you got there?"
“Yeah, by plane, but they drugged me as soon as I woke up."
“Woke up. From what?"
“They drugged me before, then I woke up in a plane, and they drugged me again, and after that we were in a house, in Russia."
“Did you see any of these people's faces?"
“No, only Nikolai."
“Who was with him?"
“What do you mean?" Her throat tightened, this was the delicate part.
"From what Miss Calfo told us, someone knocked her over the head from behind. What were you doing in the meantime?"
“Nikolai grabbed me. After a while, the woman who hit Fran helped the guy to get me in a car. No, it was a van actually."
“A woman? You never mentioned a woman before."
“Yeah…I was in and out you know, it's a little fuzzy and they both had ski masks. I was so scared," she added, half seeking his comfort, half to get him off her back.
Jack nodded, thoughtful. "Get some rest, we'll finish later." He got up and pecked her on the cheek. It surprised her. It was only a peck, but still, he never showed any outward affection toward her usually. She didn't mind the gesture.
"Where are you going?"
“I have work to do Sydney. Don't worry, there's a guard outside your door, nothing is going to happen to you here." He left, without any explanation about his involvement in this whole mess. Sydney didn't care if there was a guard or not. She just wanted her father, but apparently, he didn't understand that. He was gone already.
The next morning, Jack came back, still looking like he was here for business, but a little less…tense than the day before.
"How are you feeling?"
“Fine."
He nodded curtly and eyed his surroundings, not so sure of what he should do now. He didn't want to leave. There was nothing to do at the office and he preferred not to leave Sydney alone, at least for now. He felt guilty and needed to be here. Eventually, he settled in the chair by his daughter's bed and opened the newspaper he had brought with him.
"Dad?" Sydney called out, irritated by his apparent indifference.
"Yes? What is it Sydney?"
“Are we going to talk about it or just pretend like nothing happened?"
“Talk about what Sydney?"
She sighed. He wanted to play hard to get. Fine with her. "Yesterday you questioned me like a criminal. I felt like I had done something wrong. I hadn't. Today it's my turn to ask the question, and you are at fault."
For a fraction of a second, she saw him flinch. He lost his cool. It was brief, but she saw it. She smirked inwardly, so he wasn't flawless after all. Before he could find an excuse to run out on her, she attacked bitterly. "The movie. You know why they did it?"
His lips set on a thin line and he nodded curtly.
"Are you going to apologize?"
He blinked, "why should I?"
“You know why." Then, she lost her cool. His lack of reaction was infuriating. "God damn it, Dad! That guy beat the felgercarb out of me because you played smart-ass! Why did you do that? Why couldn't you just do what they told you to do!"
“You'll be out of here tomorrow Sydney. There's no long-term damage. You'll be sore for a few days and that's it."
“I thought he was going to kill me!"
“I'm sorry, Sydney. I'm sorry this happened to you. I never wanted you to get caught in the middle."
“You lied to me." Her tone softened, he had apologized. Her father had apologized to her.
"I did it to protect you."
“They said they wanted information from you, because you were an agent of the US government. What are you? FBI? NSA? CIA?"
“I'll go find your doctor. Maybe you're good enough to get out of here now."
Sydney smiled and nodded. She wouldn't get her answers but she had won some points. Getting her out of here was his way to make it up to her. She hated hospitals. The sooner she was out of here, the happier she would be.
"Dad, wait."
“Yes?"
“What happened to me? After I lost consciousness I mean, how did I get here?"
“I don’t know. Your friend, Francine, she found you on her bed. She called 911."
Sydney frowned, wondering why her mother had brought her back home like that.
Taking her confusion for worry, Jack added, "She said you were asleep, and that you looked peaceful.”
“What else? You're hiding something." It was just a hunch, Jack Bristow was unreadable, but he fell for it and answered her.
"The lab exams revealed different substances in your bloodstream. They found chemicals used in sleeping drugs. My best guess is they drugged you and brought you back here. But that doesn't explain the painkillers."
Sydney's eyes narrowed. He was looking straight at her, as if he knew. She gulped and tried to control her emotions. She was being paranoid. There was no way he could know.
"What do you mean?"
“Did they give you pills?"
“Yeah…I was feeling really bad, I guess they wanted me to make it to the exchange." She shrugged nonchalantly.
Jack nodded and left.
Sydney was now alone in her hospital room. She thought back to the events of the previous night, trying to get rid of the fog that surrounded it. She wondered what had really happened, and why. Her mother must have drugged her somehow, maybe while she was sleeping. Then it hit her, the tea. They had had a long, honest talk, or that's what Sydney thought at the time, and all the while Irina knew it would be the last time they would see each other, because she had decided so.
Since the beginning, she had naively thought her mother would bring her home, as in 'at her house'. Unconsciously, she knew it wouldn't happen. She knew there would be no tearful family reunion between the three of them. She had dreamed of such a thing all her life, since a little girl. Even after she knew 'people in heaven' couldn’t come back down, she had hoped. Now, after her mother's warning and promise, she still couldn't help but be disappointed and surprised to find herself alone, in a Los Angeles hospital. Her mother had fulfilled her promises, to keep her safe and to bring her back home. She had never said anything about sticking around her and Jack. Only that she would keep an eye on her. Maybe she had kept that promise too; maybe she was out there, somewhere.
Actually, when Sydney thought of it, Irina hadn't lied to her; she only went behind her back to bring her home. Maybe it was for the best. Sydney wondered how she could have been able to say goodbye to her mother after all that happened. It was obvious, she couldn't have. It would have been more painful to say goodbye at the airport, or wherever Irina would have dropped her off, than to just kiss her goodnight and never see her again.
Sydney had blindly trusted her mother, and she was now 'paying the price'…Sydney scolded at herself. She was reacting as a bratty child, who only saw that she had been lied to. Okay she had lost control over things, yes, she felt betrayed, but what if it was for the best? After all, she didn't have to lie about how she had come back to America without ID or passport or money. She already had a hard time concealing her mother's involvement in this whole mess. Her father was even already suspicious of her, she could tell. She didn't need to give him one more reason to doubt her story by making up a story about how she got here. Irina had told her to tell the whole truth, but she couldn't betray her mother like that. In addition, it would ruin Jack.
What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?
TBC
sunsetgirl
Cadet
Thanks for PM.
It's so great.
It's so great.
pasta_sauce385
Cadet
Another great update....but I miss Irina. 
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Eyghon
Author's notes: I'm on fire, I love writing this fic! Hope you enjoy, please review. For information, in French, 'home sweet home' would translate 'qu'on est bien chez soi'. I actually don't know how many chapters there is before the end, so I guess we'll see. Thanks to Lenafan for beta reading.
Chapter 13: Home sweet home…or not
Sydney had come out of the hospital the following day, after lunch, as promised by her father. He had taken her home himself. She was glad to be out but was under strict orders from the doctor. She had to take it easy because of her bruised ribs: no lifting, no running, and no efforts of any kind. Apart from this and few cuts and bruises, she would be fine. She was healing nicely and soon, there would be no apparent signs of what had happened to her. Still, her memories would probably remain forever. She couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Yeah there were some bad times, some tough moments, but there was also her mother's involvement.
Now, her mother wasn't there anymore, and Sydney missed her, despite the way they had left each other…or rather, the way Irina had dumped Sydney without giving her the opportunity to say goodbye. Back in Italy, Sydney had known she would have to let go, eventually, that it wasn't possible for her mother to be a part of her life, but still, being alone hurt. She wasn't exactly alone her father was here. He hadn't stopped working, he just did his job from his study, but he hadn't left the house in three days. It was a record for a work alcoholic like him.
Much to the distress of Sydney, though her father was here, she wasn't seeing much of him. It wasn't the 'here with her' kind of 'here', it was rather the 'here in the same house as her' kind of 'here'. He cared enough to ask if she was feeling okay from time to time. He asked if she needed anything too, but it wasn't going farther than that.
Day by day, she could see they were going back to the relation they had before it happened. Before she was kidnapped and beaten. She had naively thought he would be different, after coming so close to losing her. She decidedly had it all wrong! First her mother, now her father. How could parents be so deceitful? How could that be? Parents were supposed to protect you, not to hurt you, lie to you, or betray you? The lying part was pushing it a little. Lies could sometimes protect you, sometimes they were a necessary evil. Anyway, Irina and Jack weren't acting like parents, not like average parents at the least.
Ever since she had gotten back from the hospital, Sydney had tried to spend as much time as possible with Francie. She felt guilty her friend got hurt because of her, but she also needed the distraction, to take her mind off of things. Mostly, her being kidnapped, discovering her mother was alive, being saved from ruthless killers, and finally, losing her mother once more, resulting in her being back home, alone.
She had thought she could get back to her life as if nothing had happened but she couldn't. Despite her doctor’s recommendations to take it easy and her father's worry, she had left the house for a run. Nothing was on TV; she was bored and suffocating in the house. She had dressed in sweat pants and a hooded jacket, had put on her running shoes. She had stayed on the driveway for a minute, admiring the shiny sun. Her street was the same; it hadn't changed. Cars parked on both sides of the road, children toys haphazardly sprawled all over her neighbour's garden, kids playing in the grass, teenagers practising their roller skating skills, children biking up and down the street. She had changed and she knew it. She had started to run toward the park, but couldn't go further than the 'stop' sign at the end of the street.
The further away she had gone from her house, the worse she had felt. Things had started spinning around her. She couldn't help but scrutinize everything around her. Was this guy reading his newspaper a Russian killer sent to kill her? Was that couple of joggers planning on kidnapping her? She had tried to spot her escorts, to reassure herself. Her father had been reluctant to give her many details, about anything related to her kidnapping or his work. He had mentioned that the Russian people had gained nothing from kidnapping her. She had felt reassured; she didn't want to be the cause of anything bad. He had also mentioned that she was being permanently protected by a minimum of six men. She knew they weren’t the only people out there, focussed on her person. Her mother was there too, somewhere, watching her from afar. It was not fair, that Irina could see her and that she couldn't. Still, it felt oddly reassuring to know her mother was watching over her. It meant Sydney was safe from the Russians, and most importantly, it meant Irina really cared about her.
This morning, five days after her release from the hospital, she had woken up to an empty house. Gone was her father and his car. After checking his room and his study, she knew he had left for a trip. His suitcase was missing, and so was his laptop. He had left her, without saying goodbye. Talk about déjà vu. She had sighed, been annoyed, but not so surprised. It was to be expected. Jack Bristow was an important man, with an important job. Still, it didn't make it sting any less. He could have said something.
Surprisingly, Sydney's father had left a note by the phone. It was new. He usually didn't let her know when he left or when he would come back. She was used to it. She did her own cooking and the housekeeper was taking care of the cleaning. She did the grocery shopping with the money he left on the kitchen counter. The note was short, to the point, but it was an improvement. It said he had to leave without notification for a trip in Europe and that he wouldn't be back for a few days. It was signed 'Dad'. No 'I love you', or 'take care of yourself', just 'Dad'.
Sighing, she threw the note in the trashcan and called Francie. "Hey, it's me."
"Hey Syd, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I was wondering, you want to grab lunch with me?"
"Yeah sure, that would be great! Is your father okay with that?" Sydney had told Francie all about her father being worried every time she would go out of the house.
"Yeah, it's cool, he's not there. He left on a trip."
"So soon? He could have waited 'til you felt better," said Francie, reproachful.
"I don't mind. So, 12h at Luke's Cafe?"
"Sounds good, see you there."
Content with her plans for the day, Sydney decided to take a drive around the neighbourhood. She was getting sick of being secluded between four walls. She felt safe in her car and she enjoyed driving.
She drove around aimlessly for one hour before stopping by the cemetery. She didn't know how she had ended up here, and didn't really care. Hesitating, she weighed her options. She could turn around and go back to her place or she could stay here and walk toward her mother grave. It was, after all, the only reason she had come here in the first place. It was almost twelve o'clock and she didn't want to be late for her meet with Francie.
A few minutes later, she stopped in front of her mother's grave. She used to come here often, to talk to her mother. Now, those moments were tainted. It felt pointless to be here knowing her mother was not dead. The grave was empty, as the body had never been recovered, but her father had insisted on having a grave made for her, even though it would remain empty. She read the epitaph aloud, as she had done many times before. "Laura C. Bristow, loving wife and mother, 1951-1981". The name was a fake. What about the 'loving wife and mother'? Sydney couldn't tell. She didn't know anymore.
Her mother had betrayed her once, by leaving her when she was six, by making her believe she was dead for twelve years. She had betrayed her again only a few days ago, in the same fashion: she had left her without warning, without saying goodbye, without apparent reason. Had she ever loved Sydney? Yes, of course she did. It was obvious. Despite everything Sydney saw and learned in the past week, she knew her mother loved her and always had. Actually, what she witnessed had only reinforced her belief in her mother's love.
Still, the feeling of betrayal was strong more than any thing. It was painful, pervasive, unsettling. Shaking her head, she left the cemetery. She hadn't found relief by coming here. It only made her angrier.
Eventually, she left the cemetery for Luke's Cafe, downtown. Both girls had a great time. After a long lunch, they went to the park and settled on a bench. They watched the ducks in the pond, and the children playing in the grass. Finally, to finish the day in beauty, Francie invited Sydney over for a movie night. It meant soda, popcorn, and silly movies, like comedies. After the second film and her third can of Coke, Sydney needed a bathroom break.
She went upstairs and as she entered, someone slightly pushed her, closing the door behind them both. Gasping, she turned around in surprise. It was her mother. "What are you doing here? You told me yourself it was dangerous!"
"Shhhh! Not so loud. This house isn't under surveillance. I arrived long before you did. After seeing you having lunch with your friend this morning, I had hoped you would come here, eventually."
"What? But what if someone had seen you?"
"Your friend already did and she said nothing, not even to you. Her parents weren't here when I got here. Stop worrying about that." Then more softly, "How are you feeling, darling?"
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," harshly replied Sydney, still mad at her mother for drugging her and for breaking into her friend's house. "Now, when did you see Fran?"
"When I brought you here."
Sydney threw her hands in the air, exasperated, "Of course you did.”
"I'm sorry it had to be this way…"
"I don't want to hear your excuses. You decided to drug me, you decided to have me unconscious while you took me back to LA. It didn't have to be this way; you just wanted it this way. I just don't know why."
"Sydney…"
"I don't want to see you anymore," interrupted the young girl.
"Why?" Irina was shocked.
"You heard me. You made me believe you cared about me while planning your little stunt. When we were talking, you knew what you'd do. I woke up in the hospital twenty-four hours after going to bed. I had no idea of where I was. You should have told me what you were doing! I had a right to know. You didn't even let me say goodbye!"
"I was protecting you, so you wouldn't have to lie." Irina said slowly, carefully. She realized her daughter was angry.
"I covered you! I told them Nikolai was the leader. What's one more lie? It was my decision to make, my choice. You took that away from me."
At that, Irina's head snapped up. "Everything I did I did to protect you and I made a promise to Katya, I promised her no one would bother her with questions about you or me. I couldn't have you being able to ID her plane or know the location of her home."
"Protect me? What's with you and Dad? I'm eighteen and I don't need protection! I wouldn't have said anything!"
"I know! That's not the point," argued Irina feebly, distracted by the mention of Jack.
"What kind of mother are you? What kind of mother kidnaps her child, leaves her to be beaten, drugs her…"
"It was necessary! Your father is alive and so are you. It's all that matters. I already explained all of that. I am sorry about Nikolai. I didn't know. If I had, do you really think I would have let it happen?"
"No, I know all of that…" whispered Sydney. She knew her mother had acted for the best, but she still resented her for spoiling their 'reunion' in Italy.
"And I love you, never doubt that," added Irina firmly.
"I know that too. You just don't care about me."
"Yes, I do!" Defended Irina, shocked.
"Not enough to ask yourself what I feel, not enough to let me make my own decision, not enough to let me in your plans. Or is it just that you don't trust me?"
"Sydney! Of course I trust you, you're my daughter!"
"So? You're my mother and I don't trust you." After a pause, she went on. "I kissed you goodnight, I told you I loved you. I did, I still do. It goes with the title of ‘mother’; I can't take that away from you. But trust…you have to earn it, it doesn't go with the parental package. You lost mine the second I woke up in Los Angeles." She finished bitterly.
"Sydney…" Irina's eyes stung. She had screwed it up. Once again, she had miscalculated. The human factor was tricky. She hadn't thought her daughter would be so angry with her.
"One more question. Was I really passed out when I got to Italy? Or did you have me drugged back then? I'm asking because it seemed like an awfully long time to stay unconscious from natural causes."
Irina lowered her head, flinching. "I thought so," sighed Sydney, turning her back on her mother.
"I can explain…"
"Just…leave me alone. I don't want to see you ever again."
"Sydney!"
"Get out! If you don’t I'll scream," threatened Sydney.
Irina slowly nodded. "Alright." She reached out for the door handle.
"Wait."
They had their back to each other, making it easier to talk. "Yes?" Hope seized Irina, but left her as soon as Sydney spoke.
"Don't feel obligated to stay in LA until the end of the week. Go back to your motherland and your dirty business. I raised myself; I don't need an adult to watch over me now that I'm eighteen." After a pause, she quietly added, "I don't need you."
Irina didn't reply, didn't turn around, and simply left the bathroom. She would hide in one of the room upstairs, until the path was clear.
Sydney hoped her mother hadn't seen her cry. She splashed cold water on her face and tried to compose herself. She just had to hold herself together long enough to get out of the house.
Returning to the living room, she told Francie she was tired and needed to go home. Her friend was surprised but didn't question her. They hugged each other and Sydney left.
She went to her mother's grave for the second time in a week. This time she had brought flowers with her. She had left a card in the bouquet, in hope that a certain someone would get it. She was almost certain her mother had left the city after the bathroom episode, but still, if there were the slightest chance, Sydney would take it. She sighed and carefully deposited the flowers on the grass. She left the cemetery without looking back.
A few minutes after she left, a man dressed in a suit approached the spot she was standing on minutes ago. He looked around him and, seeing no one, picked up the card. He read it and put it back in its place before heading to his car. The man in the driver’s seat threw him a questioning look. He shrugged and climbed in beside him.
In Italy, Irina was laying on her bed, lost in thoughts. Sydney's words kept coming back to her, louder and louder. It hurt. It was the truth. Did that mean she was a bad mother? She wistfully wondered what it would have been like, if she had been around to see Sydney grow up, to participate in her education. Would she have been a good mother to Sydney?
A knock came at the door. Hearing no reply, Katya poked her head in. Irina had come back to her sister's home the night Sydney had thrown her out of her friend's bathroom. Katya didn't ask questions, she had just let her in, showed her to her room, and asked if she needed anything. Irina didn't.
When she had seen Sydney in Los Angeles, her daughter had threatened to call the CIA on her. She knew Irina would probably be killed if the CIA caught her, would she have really called them. Irina would never know. She didn't know Sydney; she couldn't tell what her daughter was most likely to do or not to do. She couldn't judge because she had no ground to judge. Sydney was practically a stranger to Irina. She had gone from a little girl playing with a balloon to a grown woman driving a SUV. Irina had missed a lot in between.
She had thought not having any kind of contact with Sydney was for the best. She wasn't sure she could have stayed away, knowing what was going on in her child's life. Despite being a SVR agent and a ruthless killer (God she hoped Sydney would never find out what she had done), she was still a mother. Sydney's mother. She had had no photos, no reports on her daughter's activities for twelve years. She had been literally clueless.
After Kashmir, she had needed time to heal, to figure out what to do with herself. She had entered the SVR and promised herself that she wouldn't get thrown back in prison. She had hoped that cutting all ties with America and the KGB would give her a new chance. If no one knew about her daughter, then no one would try to find Sydney to get to her. Then, she herself had given away Sydney to her superiors.
"Are you brooding?"
Katya's question brought Irina back to reality. She looked over at her sister, confused.
"What?"
"Something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. I'm fine." Before Katya's hurt look, Irina added with a small smile, "thanks for asking."
"You're welcome." A silence went by. "I know we're not really close, but…we used to be. I miss that. I miss our gossip about boys, our long talks at night."
"We're not children anymore Katya," replied Irina somberly.
"I know. But we're still sisters."
Back in her room, Sydney wondered. Had she made the good choice? Would it pan out? She didn't know if her mother was still there, but she prayed she was. Otherwise, she would never see her again. Irina would never know what Sydney felt for her, and Sydney would leave forever with the regret of that night. The night she pushed her mother away.
TBC
Eyghon
Author's notes: I'm on fire, I love writing this fic! Hope you enjoy, please review. For information, in French, 'home sweet home' would translate 'qu'on est bien chez soi'. I actually don't know how many chapters there is before the end, so I guess we'll see. Thanks to Lenafan for beta reading.
Chapter 13: Home sweet home…or not
Sydney had come out of the hospital the following day, after lunch, as promised by her father. He had taken her home himself. She was glad to be out but was under strict orders from the doctor. She had to take it easy because of her bruised ribs: no lifting, no running, and no efforts of any kind. Apart from this and few cuts and bruises, she would be fine. She was healing nicely and soon, there would be no apparent signs of what had happened to her. Still, her memories would probably remain forever. She couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Yeah there were some bad times, some tough moments, but there was also her mother's involvement.
Now, her mother wasn't there anymore, and Sydney missed her, despite the way they had left each other…or rather, the way Irina had dumped Sydney without giving her the opportunity to say goodbye. Back in Italy, Sydney had known she would have to let go, eventually, that it wasn't possible for her mother to be a part of her life, but still, being alone hurt. She wasn't exactly alone her father was here. He hadn't stopped working, he just did his job from his study, but he hadn't left the house in three days. It was a record for a work alcoholic like him.
Much to the distress of Sydney, though her father was here, she wasn't seeing much of him. It wasn't the 'here with her' kind of 'here', it was rather the 'here in the same house as her' kind of 'here'. He cared enough to ask if she was feeling okay from time to time. He asked if she needed anything too, but it wasn't going farther than that.
Day by day, she could see they were going back to the relation they had before it happened. Before she was kidnapped and beaten. She had naively thought he would be different, after coming so close to losing her. She decidedly had it all wrong! First her mother, now her father. How could parents be so deceitful? How could that be? Parents were supposed to protect you, not to hurt you, lie to you, or betray you? The lying part was pushing it a little. Lies could sometimes protect you, sometimes they were a necessary evil. Anyway, Irina and Jack weren't acting like parents, not like average parents at the least.
Ever since she had gotten back from the hospital, Sydney had tried to spend as much time as possible with Francie. She felt guilty her friend got hurt because of her, but she also needed the distraction, to take her mind off of things. Mostly, her being kidnapped, discovering her mother was alive, being saved from ruthless killers, and finally, losing her mother once more, resulting in her being back home, alone.
She had thought she could get back to her life as if nothing had happened but she couldn't. Despite her doctor’s recommendations to take it easy and her father's worry, she had left the house for a run. Nothing was on TV; she was bored and suffocating in the house. She had dressed in sweat pants and a hooded jacket, had put on her running shoes. She had stayed on the driveway for a minute, admiring the shiny sun. Her street was the same; it hadn't changed. Cars parked on both sides of the road, children toys haphazardly sprawled all over her neighbour's garden, kids playing in the grass, teenagers practising their roller skating skills, children biking up and down the street. She had changed and she knew it. She had started to run toward the park, but couldn't go further than the 'stop' sign at the end of the street.
The further away she had gone from her house, the worse she had felt. Things had started spinning around her. She couldn't help but scrutinize everything around her. Was this guy reading his newspaper a Russian killer sent to kill her? Was that couple of joggers planning on kidnapping her? She had tried to spot her escorts, to reassure herself. Her father had been reluctant to give her many details, about anything related to her kidnapping or his work. He had mentioned that the Russian people had gained nothing from kidnapping her. She had felt reassured; she didn't want to be the cause of anything bad. He had also mentioned that she was being permanently protected by a minimum of six men. She knew they weren’t the only people out there, focussed on her person. Her mother was there too, somewhere, watching her from afar. It was not fair, that Irina could see her and that she couldn't. Still, it felt oddly reassuring to know her mother was watching over her. It meant Sydney was safe from the Russians, and most importantly, it meant Irina really cared about her.
This morning, five days after her release from the hospital, she had woken up to an empty house. Gone was her father and his car. After checking his room and his study, she knew he had left for a trip. His suitcase was missing, and so was his laptop. He had left her, without saying goodbye. Talk about déjà vu. She had sighed, been annoyed, but not so surprised. It was to be expected. Jack Bristow was an important man, with an important job. Still, it didn't make it sting any less. He could have said something.
Surprisingly, Sydney's father had left a note by the phone. It was new. He usually didn't let her know when he left or when he would come back. She was used to it. She did her own cooking and the housekeeper was taking care of the cleaning. She did the grocery shopping with the money he left on the kitchen counter. The note was short, to the point, but it was an improvement. It said he had to leave without notification for a trip in Europe and that he wouldn't be back for a few days. It was signed 'Dad'. No 'I love you', or 'take care of yourself', just 'Dad'.
Sighing, she threw the note in the trashcan and called Francie. "Hey, it's me."
"Hey Syd, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I was wondering, you want to grab lunch with me?"
"Yeah sure, that would be great! Is your father okay with that?" Sydney had told Francie all about her father being worried every time she would go out of the house.
"Yeah, it's cool, he's not there. He left on a trip."
"So soon? He could have waited 'til you felt better," said Francie, reproachful.
"I don't mind. So, 12h at Luke's Cafe?"
"Sounds good, see you there."
Content with her plans for the day, Sydney decided to take a drive around the neighbourhood. She was getting sick of being secluded between four walls. She felt safe in her car and she enjoyed driving.
She drove around aimlessly for one hour before stopping by the cemetery. She didn't know how she had ended up here, and didn't really care. Hesitating, she weighed her options. She could turn around and go back to her place or she could stay here and walk toward her mother grave. It was, after all, the only reason she had come here in the first place. It was almost twelve o'clock and she didn't want to be late for her meet with Francie.
A few minutes later, she stopped in front of her mother's grave. She used to come here often, to talk to her mother. Now, those moments were tainted. It felt pointless to be here knowing her mother was not dead. The grave was empty, as the body had never been recovered, but her father had insisted on having a grave made for her, even though it would remain empty. She read the epitaph aloud, as she had done many times before. "Laura C. Bristow, loving wife and mother, 1951-1981". The name was a fake. What about the 'loving wife and mother'? Sydney couldn't tell. She didn't know anymore.
Her mother had betrayed her once, by leaving her when she was six, by making her believe she was dead for twelve years. She had betrayed her again only a few days ago, in the same fashion: she had left her without warning, without saying goodbye, without apparent reason. Had she ever loved Sydney? Yes, of course she did. It was obvious. Despite everything Sydney saw and learned in the past week, she knew her mother loved her and always had. Actually, what she witnessed had only reinforced her belief in her mother's love.
Still, the feeling of betrayal was strong more than any thing. It was painful, pervasive, unsettling. Shaking her head, she left the cemetery. She hadn't found relief by coming here. It only made her angrier.
Eventually, she left the cemetery for Luke's Cafe, downtown. Both girls had a great time. After a long lunch, they went to the park and settled on a bench. They watched the ducks in the pond, and the children playing in the grass. Finally, to finish the day in beauty, Francie invited Sydney over for a movie night. It meant soda, popcorn, and silly movies, like comedies. After the second film and her third can of Coke, Sydney needed a bathroom break.
She went upstairs and as she entered, someone slightly pushed her, closing the door behind them both. Gasping, she turned around in surprise. It was her mother. "What are you doing here? You told me yourself it was dangerous!"
"Shhhh! Not so loud. This house isn't under surveillance. I arrived long before you did. After seeing you having lunch with your friend this morning, I had hoped you would come here, eventually."
"What? But what if someone had seen you?"
"Your friend already did and she said nothing, not even to you. Her parents weren't here when I got here. Stop worrying about that." Then more softly, "How are you feeling, darling?"
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," harshly replied Sydney, still mad at her mother for drugging her and for breaking into her friend's house. "Now, when did you see Fran?"
"When I brought you here."
Sydney threw her hands in the air, exasperated, "Of course you did.”
"I'm sorry it had to be this way…"
"I don't want to hear your excuses. You decided to drug me, you decided to have me unconscious while you took me back to LA. It didn't have to be this way; you just wanted it this way. I just don't know why."
"Sydney…"
"I don't want to see you anymore," interrupted the young girl.
"Why?" Irina was shocked.
"You heard me. You made me believe you cared about me while planning your little stunt. When we were talking, you knew what you'd do. I woke up in the hospital twenty-four hours after going to bed. I had no idea of where I was. You should have told me what you were doing! I had a right to know. You didn't even let me say goodbye!"
"I was protecting you, so you wouldn't have to lie." Irina said slowly, carefully. She realized her daughter was angry.
"I covered you! I told them Nikolai was the leader. What's one more lie? It was my decision to make, my choice. You took that away from me."
At that, Irina's head snapped up. "Everything I did I did to protect you and I made a promise to Katya, I promised her no one would bother her with questions about you or me. I couldn't have you being able to ID her plane or know the location of her home."
"Protect me? What's with you and Dad? I'm eighteen and I don't need protection! I wouldn't have said anything!"
"I know! That's not the point," argued Irina feebly, distracted by the mention of Jack.
"What kind of mother are you? What kind of mother kidnaps her child, leaves her to be beaten, drugs her…"
"It was necessary! Your father is alive and so are you. It's all that matters. I already explained all of that. I am sorry about Nikolai. I didn't know. If I had, do you really think I would have let it happen?"
"No, I know all of that…" whispered Sydney. She knew her mother had acted for the best, but she still resented her for spoiling their 'reunion' in Italy.
"And I love you, never doubt that," added Irina firmly.
"I know that too. You just don't care about me."
"Yes, I do!" Defended Irina, shocked.
"Not enough to ask yourself what I feel, not enough to let me make my own decision, not enough to let me in your plans. Or is it just that you don't trust me?"
"Sydney! Of course I trust you, you're my daughter!"
"So? You're my mother and I don't trust you." After a pause, she went on. "I kissed you goodnight, I told you I loved you. I did, I still do. It goes with the title of ‘mother’; I can't take that away from you. But trust…you have to earn it, it doesn't go with the parental package. You lost mine the second I woke up in Los Angeles." She finished bitterly.
"Sydney…" Irina's eyes stung. She had screwed it up. Once again, she had miscalculated. The human factor was tricky. She hadn't thought her daughter would be so angry with her.
"One more question. Was I really passed out when I got to Italy? Or did you have me drugged back then? I'm asking because it seemed like an awfully long time to stay unconscious from natural causes."
Irina lowered her head, flinching. "I thought so," sighed Sydney, turning her back on her mother.
"I can explain…"
"Just…leave me alone. I don't want to see you ever again."
"Sydney!"
"Get out! If you don’t I'll scream," threatened Sydney.
Irina slowly nodded. "Alright." She reached out for the door handle.
"Wait."
They had their back to each other, making it easier to talk. "Yes?" Hope seized Irina, but left her as soon as Sydney spoke.
"Don't feel obligated to stay in LA until the end of the week. Go back to your motherland and your dirty business. I raised myself; I don't need an adult to watch over me now that I'm eighteen." After a pause, she quietly added, "I don't need you."
Irina didn't reply, didn't turn around, and simply left the bathroom. She would hide in one of the room upstairs, until the path was clear.
Sydney hoped her mother hadn't seen her cry. She splashed cold water on her face and tried to compose herself. She just had to hold herself together long enough to get out of the house.
Returning to the living room, she told Francie she was tired and needed to go home. Her friend was surprised but didn't question her. They hugged each other and Sydney left.
She went to her mother's grave for the second time in a week. This time she had brought flowers with her. She had left a card in the bouquet, in hope that a certain someone would get it. She was almost certain her mother had left the city after the bathroom episode, but still, if there were the slightest chance, Sydney would take it. She sighed and carefully deposited the flowers on the grass. She left the cemetery without looking back.
A few minutes after she left, a man dressed in a suit approached the spot she was standing on minutes ago. He looked around him and, seeing no one, picked up the card. He read it and put it back in its place before heading to his car. The man in the driver’s seat threw him a questioning look. He shrugged and climbed in beside him.
In Italy, Irina was laying on her bed, lost in thoughts. Sydney's words kept coming back to her, louder and louder. It hurt. It was the truth. Did that mean she was a bad mother? She wistfully wondered what it would have been like, if she had been around to see Sydney grow up, to participate in her education. Would she have been a good mother to Sydney?
A knock came at the door. Hearing no reply, Katya poked her head in. Irina had come back to her sister's home the night Sydney had thrown her out of her friend's bathroom. Katya didn't ask questions, she had just let her in, showed her to her room, and asked if she needed anything. Irina didn't.
When she had seen Sydney in Los Angeles, her daughter had threatened to call the CIA on her. She knew Irina would probably be killed if the CIA caught her, would she have really called them. Irina would never know. She didn't know Sydney; she couldn't tell what her daughter was most likely to do or not to do. She couldn't judge because she had no ground to judge. Sydney was practically a stranger to Irina. She had gone from a little girl playing with a balloon to a grown woman driving a SUV. Irina had missed a lot in between.
She had thought not having any kind of contact with Sydney was for the best. She wasn't sure she could have stayed away, knowing what was going on in her child's life. Despite being a SVR agent and a ruthless killer (God she hoped Sydney would never find out what she had done), she was still a mother. Sydney's mother. She had had no photos, no reports on her daughter's activities for twelve years. She had been literally clueless.
After Kashmir, she had needed time to heal, to figure out what to do with herself. She had entered the SVR and promised herself that she wouldn't get thrown back in prison. She had hoped that cutting all ties with America and the KGB would give her a new chance. If no one knew about her daughter, then no one would try to find Sydney to get to her. Then, she herself had given away Sydney to her superiors.
"Are you brooding?"
Katya's question brought Irina back to reality. She looked over at her sister, confused.
"What?"
"Something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. I'm fine." Before Katya's hurt look, Irina added with a small smile, "thanks for asking."
"You're welcome." A silence went by. "I know we're not really close, but…we used to be. I miss that. I miss our gossip about boys, our long talks at night."
"We're not children anymore Katya," replied Irina somberly.
"I know. But we're still sisters."
Back in her room, Sydney wondered. Had she made the good choice? Would it pan out? She didn't know if her mother was still there, but she prayed she was. Otherwise, she would never see her again. Irina would never know what Sydney felt for her, and Sydney would leave forever with the regret of that night. The night she pushed her mother away.
TBC
pasta_sauce385
Cadet
Great chapter again and again....I hope Sydney will have another chance to talk to her mom again so she doesn't regret what she has done.
I'm glad you love writing this fic.....because I love reading this fic.
I'm glad you love writing this fic.....because I love reading this fic.
sunsetgirl
Cadet
Thanks for PM, another great chapter.
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Eyghon
Author's notes: Sorry for the long hiatus, I had writer block until a few days ago. Suddenly at 1 in the morning, I just had the urge to get up and write. Ideas wouldn't stop coming, I started two more chapters after this one. It seems this fic won't be over before May as I had hoped. So many things to do and so little time... I'm leaving for Morocco Wednesday night so don't expect an update before ten days I think. Thanks to Lenafan for correcting this chapter so fast!
Chapter 14: I'm sorry, I miss you, I need you
A few minutes after the girl's car had left, followed by a first Sedan and two minutes later by a second identical Sedan, a young woman stepped out of the shadows. She went over to where the Bristow girl and the Agent had stopped. From her place of hiding, she couldn't see precisely what it was that was so interesting. Now, looking around, she realised there was only one grave with flowers. She bent over and picked up a bouquet with a card attached on it. That must have been what interested the man in the dark suit. Her target had deposited her at the grave of a 'Laura Bristow'. The note simply read 'I'm sorry. I miss you. I need you.' Hesitating, the young woman pondered what her choices were. Eventually she took out her cell phone and pressed speed dial one.
"Yes?"
"It's me."
"You're early. What is it?"
The young woman was running surveillance on a young woman going by the name 'Sydney Bristow'. Her target was barely younger than she was. She made daily reports to her boss at 22h00.
"No. It's just…something unusual happened, I thought you would want to know immediately."
"What is it?"
"The girl, she went to a cemetery, she left flowers at the grave of a 'Laura Bristow'."
Irina inhaled sharply, "and?" she prompted.
"There is a card with it. One of the agents assigned to her went to read it. I went to check it out too, I have it in my hand."
"What does it read?"
"‘I'm sorry, I miss you, I need you'. Cryptic huh?"
“Thank you for informing me. Resume your surveillance. I'll expect another report tomorrow at 22h00 as usual."
"Yes Ma'am." The young woman wished she knew what the message meant, but she knew better than to ask questions. Setting her curiosity aside, she put on her helmet and climbed on her bike. It was her favourite way of transportation. It allowed her to go anywhere she wanted. She could slip in alleyways and hide. The CIA agents didn't pay attention to bikes; they were on the look out for cars and vans. Moreover, her Yamaha was a common model and she regularly switched helmets, just in case.
Another agent was making his report. Jack Bristow had ordered the men in charge of his daughter's surveillance to report to him every twelve hours. The agents were to tell him every detail of Sydney's day: where she had stopped, whom she had talked to…her cell phone and he also order the house’s phone lines tapped.
Tonight, it was time for the evening report. Jack Bristow answered on the first ring. "Bristow."
"Agent Bristow, Agent Maddox here."
"I'm listening."
The agent started to detail the every move of his target, and Jack interrupted him at the mention of her stop at the cemetery.
"Which grave did she visit?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"A 'Laura Bristow' sir. She brought flowers with a card. I checked it and it was nothing."
"What was written on it?"
"Err…I'm not sure, it wasn't important you know…"
"It is important Agent Maddox. Do you often leave cards on the graves you visit?"
"Uh…No sir," sheepishly replied the agent.
“Go back there if you have to but I want the exact words you read."
"Yes Sir."
Sydney had had two full days to ponder what she would tell Irina, if her mother ever showed up. She had come up with nothing. She felt guilty for driving Irina away. Maybe her mother hadn't shown up because the CIA agents were following her like her shadow.
Sydney was currently at the UCLA library. It was her first day back. It helped take her mind off things and she hated missing classes. It was so hard to catch up with only a friend's notes. The agents had followed her all day. They didn't even look like professors, more like businessmen than academics. If Sydney could spot them, then so could Irina. Sydney had to find a way to meet her mother without her escorts suspecting anything. The only safe place she could think of was her best friend's house.
"Hey Fran!" Called out Sydney a few hours later. She picked up her pace to catch up with her friend who was walking toward the university parking lot.
"Hey you, what's up?"
"I was wondering if we could have another movie night at your place. You know, with your parents out for their weekly dinner and all…I'll bring the food."
"Sure, sounds great."
"See you tomorrow night then? Seven?" Francie turned and walked toward her car.
"You got it,” called Sydney after her.
Francie had been climbing up and down the stairs for two hours now. She was going from one room to another, throwing things away, moving others. Her mother demanded she clean her bedroom. It was a much needed cleaning. She had stuff piled everywhere, coming from everywhere in the house. Sydney would be arriving in less than one hour and Francie's mother threatened to deprive her of her monthly allowance if her room wasn't spotless by the time she returned.
Her hands full of CDs that didn't belong to her, the young woman entered her brother's room. He had gone away to another university in North Carolina. They had family there and he had had a scholarship to help. She had borrowed some CDs of his a few months ago, but didn't listen to them anymore so she might as well put them back.
She pushed open the door and found the switch. She gasped. A woman was standing in the middle of the room, coolly looking at her.
"Who are you?"
The woman merely tilted her head, smiling.
"Oh my God!" as the realisation hit her. The shoes, the jacket. It was the scary masked woman. She wasn't wearing a mask anymore. "I didn't tell anything to anyone, I swear! Even Sydney doesn't know you're the one who brought her here…"
"Oh she knows, but don't worry, I am not here for blood Miss Calfo," smiled Irina reassuringly, slightly bowing her head. She was impatient to see her daughter. She was also dreading that meeting. Her last encounter with Sydney had proven that her daughter had no negative feelings toward her, but still, Irina needed to protect herself, emotionally. She couldn't handle another 'attack'. For now, she had to deal with a half hysterical eighteen years old who had caught her in a room that was supposed to be safe for her to hide in until Sydney arrived.
"Why are you standing in my brother's room in the middle of the night?" asked Francie, holding her breath.
"It's barely seven. I'm waiting for someone. Don't mind me, go back to your business, I'll make myself scarce."
"Waiting for someone? Who?" Thinking about it, the response was obvious. "Is it Sydney? Because if you think I'm going to let you…"
"You don't need to threaten me Miss Calfo. I'm deeply sorry to show up uninvited but I must see Sydney and this is the only place we could meet."
"Meet? You kidnapped her for God's sake."
"I'm well aware of that. I can promise you I wish her no harm." The young girl wouldn't let it go. If Sydney didn't show up soon, Irina might have to defend herself judging by Francie's tightly clenched fists.
The doorbell rang, interrupting any reply Francie might have had.
"Are you going to get that?" prompted Irina.
"No," Francie stubbornly replied. This woman was clearly here for Sydney, though her motives were still unclear, Francie wouldn't take any chances. That Russian woman would not get her hands on Sydney.
"Francie?" Repeated Sydney, shutting the door behind her. Over the years, both girls had grown closer and closer. They had a key to each other's house and often spent the night in one or the other's house. Francie hadn't answered the door nor had she replied to her calls. Maybe she was listening to some music with her headphones. Today was another movie night, but it was a special movie night. Sydney hoped her mother would have overheard her talking to Francie in the parking lot. She had purposely asked Francie outside, where Irina had a chance to overhear. It was a long shot but it was worth it, and Sydney had no other way of contacting her mother.
"We're here!" eventually called out a feminine voice from upstairs. Sydney was certain it was not Francie's voice. Sydney raced up the stairs. It was her mother's, she realised when Irina came on the top of the staircase to greet her.
"You came!" Sydney said, fiercely hugging Irina.
"You wanted to see me. Of course, I came."
"You wanted to see her?" questioned Francie, bewildered by the two women's ease around each other.
"Yeah…what are you doing here?" Why were her mother and her best friend not surprised to be in each other's company?
"This is my house," replied Francie sternly. "You invited her here?" she added, as if an afterthought.
"Yeah…more or less," mumbled Sydney, still shocked at seeing the most two important women in her life standing next to her.
"Are you insane?" shouted Francie. "She kidnapped you! She hit me! She's crazy and dangerous!"
"Francie, she's…"
"Sydney," interrupted Irina in a warning tone. It was bad enough the girl had seen her. She didn't need to know her name or who she was.
Sydney sighed, knowing what her mother implied. "Listen, I need to talk to her, privately. Can you go downstairs or something?"
"What?" shouted Francie, outraged.
"Please, Fran."
"I'm not leaving you alone with that psycho!"
There was a silence. Francie realised the woman she just called 'psycho' was probably carrying a gun and was dying to use it on her. Sydney was at a loss of what to say to convince her friend she would be fine. Finally, Irina broke off the stand off. Smiling reassuringly, she locked eyes with Francie, trying to convey her sincerity.
"Sydney is safe with me. We're not going anywhere. We are just going to talk."
"I'm not budging," stubbornly replied Francie, firmly planting her feet in the ground.
Sydney was tempted to roll her eyes, but touched by her friend's devotion, she did nothing. Irina had hit her and yet she was ready to fight her for Sydney. Letting go of that train of thought, Sydney motioned for her mother to follow her across the hall to another bedroom. She closed the door behind her.
"You wanted to see me?" asked Irina flatly.
Her mother's detachment startled Sydney, who quickly lost her smile. Her mother was grim, and suddenly, Sydney remembered their last conversation. Remorse hit her full force. "Mom…I'm so sorry about what I said…"
"What do you want, Sydney?" interrupted Irina. The fact that Sydney tried to contact her should have delighted her, but it didn't. She knew better than to hope for something that was unlikely to happen. She had been disappointed many times over the years. She had learned not to expect anything, from anyone. There was no disappointment, if there was no hope.
Irina had had a hard time deciding whether to come back to Los Angeles. She could have easily sent someone to ask Sydney what she wanted. Chloe was already on site, she was twenty years old, it would have been easy for her to approach Sydney discreetly and then convey to Irina whatever message she had received. No, Irina had to see Sydney. She couldn't let go so easily; she needed a 'fix'. She had willed herself though not to get involved in that meeting.
"I…" Sydney winced at her mother's cold tone. She deserved it, okay, but it was still a side of Irina she didn't know. Even when she didn't know it was Irina, who kidnapped her, she had been kind to Sydney, reassuring. Now she was chilling. "I'm really sorry; I didn't mean anything of what I said. I was upset, I…" She could feel her eyes sting from unshed tears. "That night in Italy, when we talked, it was amazing…I…I needed some time to think before I got back to LA. You took that away from me without telling me."
Irina was still staring at her, unflinching. "When I woke up in this hospital bed…I realised I would never see you again, ever." She was so intent on explaining how she had felt that she missed the pained look that crossed her mother's face. "I didn't want that. I wanted to stay around you some more, to talk about stuff. I wanted my mother. Instead, I got an interrogation from Dad!" After a silence, she thought about what she had just said, and lamely added, "I have no excuse for what I told to you." She lowered her head in shame, praying her mother would make some sort of contact with her.
"Sydney…" Irina's plan was not to succumb to any feelings she might feel for her daughter. She was going to stick to that plan, no matter what. Still, she softened a little. "What do you want me to tell you, Sydney?" She was dying to hug her daughter, or at the very least, to step closer to her. However, she couldn't get hurt again.
Irina Derevko was a prominent agent of the SVR, one of the best, if not 'the' best. People respected her or feared her. In both cases, no one in their right mind would try to hurt her. Figuratively speaking of course, as she had been shot, stabbed, punched, captured, tortured, and any number of unspeakable things done to her, but no one had ever caused her pain as great as Sydney had with words.
Sydney realised her mother had been really hurt by her words, though she didn't show it. However, the fact she was keeping her distance from Sydney and refusing to acknowledge her apologies was speaking volumes. Sydney had treated her mother like…scum. She had been disrespectful and above all, hurtful. Of course, giving vent to her feelings wasn’t all her fault. After all, her mother did drug her, kidnapped her, and drugged her again. Still, she had the feeling she had caused a great deal of pain to her mother and she wished she could take it back. She couldn't. It was too late.
Sydney sighed. "I just needed to talk to you…I thought it was going to be different, with Dad…"
"What happened?" Irina stiffened slightly.
"Nothing! That's the problem! At first he was kind of nice, nicer than usual I mean. He acted as if he cared…and then, one morning I woke up and he's gone. He left without telling me, just as he did before. He got back to ignoring me and leaving me alone…"
"Sydney, I'm so sorry…" Irina's hand affectionately brushed against Sydney's cheek.
"I think he knows I'm hiding something," gravely added Sydney.
Irina sighed. "What do you want from me, Sydney?"
"I don't know…I'm not sure. I had my mom and my dad for the first six years of my life. For the last twelve years, I only got my Dad and he was never much of a Dad to me. I got a taste of my Mom and I want more. I want to be with you."
Irina was stunned. She hadn't expected that. Needing to be certain, she asked, "What do you mean you want to be with me?"
"I want to live with you. If you want me," quietly added Sydney, unsure of what to expect.
"Of course, I want you Sydney, you're my daughter! I've always wanted to be with you but…I don't have a 'Mom's lifestyle'. If you want to live with me, you'll have to leave the United States, your friends, your father! It demands many sacrifices and you're still so young…"
"I'm an adult, Mom, and I was going to move away from the house next year. It's too far from campus. I don't mind leaving the US, really. As long as I get to be with you I would follow you anywhere."
Irina was touched by her daughter's words. She did not expect this development. "If we do that, I can't go back to Russia either. The SVR will know I had a role in your escape. They'll want my head. I can't promise you it will be nice and comfortable everyday. It won't be easy, it's a complete change of lifestyle, Sydney."
"Mom, I had days to think about it. I made my decision, whatever the consequences, the changes, or the sacrifices; I want to live with you. You told me you want to live with me too but…how do we do that?"
"I'll need a few days to work on it. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, you have to act like usual. Don't say goodbye to anyone or lead people to believe you won't be there next week for a party or anything. No one must know, not even Francie. Do you understand Sydney?"
"Yeah," murmured Sydney, realising it would be harder than she thought.
"Good. You should go now; your friend must be worried."
"Yeah. Thank you, Mom."
"I love you Sweetheart." Irina smiled warmly as she kissed Sydney on the forehead. She had meant to say it for a long time, with reason behind it, just because she felt like it, and not as a reply like in Italy.
"I love you too Mom."
Sydney was grinning from ear to ear as she wandered in search of her friend. She eventually found her downstairs in the living room.
"Hey, you moved," she teased, plopping on the couch.
"Yeah, sorry I behaved like an idiot."
"Its okay, you just acted like a friend. I'm grateful for that. What's on tonight?"
Francie glanced at her. Sydney was literally glowing. Francie understood she didn't want to talk about whatever had happened upstairs with the woman. She cheerfully announced the films available and the evening went on as usual.
"Hello? Scary lady?" Francie quietly called out several times, hugging the walls as she progressed through her house.
"Are you looking for me?" Asked the woman, stepping out from the end of the corridor, behind Francie.
"Jesus Christ!" Francie backed into the wall, gasping for breath.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," apologized Irina softly. Francie nodded, too scared to talk.
"What do you intend on doing with that?" she asked, pointing to the umbrella Francie was clutching.
"Ow…Uh…Just in case…you weren't as friendly as Sydney seems to think you are. Sorry for calling you 'scary lady', you didn't exactly tell me your name last time I saw you…" After a silence, she added, "Syd didn't either. She left."
"Obviously. So, is there something you wanted to ask me before I leave?" inquired Irina politely. She had hit the girl hard, and she was Sydney's best friend. Making small talk with her was the least Irina could do.
"I…I don't understand why Sydney would want to see you, unless she's gone insane or suicidal, which I don't think she is."
"Your point?" prompted Irina.
"I…I was just curious. She seemed happy when she came back down. I was wondering what had happened."
"Curiosity killed the cat Miss Calfo," Irina gently scolded.
Francie drew in a shaky breath, "Yeah, I see. Goodnight." She ran back to her room and slammed the door behind her. Sydney was hiding something from her. Best friends didn't hide something from each other. It was just not like Sydney to lie to her face.
Irina couldn't help but smile at her daughter's best friend. She had waited until Sydney and her surveillance team left before leaving herself. She tried to concentrate on the task. She had a lot to think about now. It was time to leave and prepare for hers and Sydney's departure. There were many things to do and it would take some time to fall into place. The easiest would be to procure new ID's, but for that, she needed to find a new home. She needed a developed country, where an American wouldn't stand out. She needed it to be convenient to hide from both the American and the Russian authorities. She was thinking of a European country, preferably in a major city. Italy? Spain? France maybe?
Then there was the problem of leaving the United States. Sydney was under tight surveillance. They couldn’t afford to be followed to the airport. She also had to warn Sydney before taking her anywhere. Her daughter would be furious with her, and rightfully so, if she was to take her away without warning. Irina needed to make sure that Sydney really wanted to leave the US with her and live in another country. She had come to Irina because her father wasn't acting like one. Irina couldn't have her change her mind, she would have nothing left then. She would be on the run from the CIA and the KGB on her own.
Irina needed to make sure it was what Sydney really wanted without a doubt.
TBC
Eyghon
Author's notes: Sorry for the long hiatus, I had writer block until a few days ago. Suddenly at 1 in the morning, I just had the urge to get up and write. Ideas wouldn't stop coming, I started two more chapters after this one. It seems this fic won't be over before May as I had hoped. So many things to do and so little time... I'm leaving for Morocco Wednesday night so don't expect an update before ten days I think. Thanks to Lenafan for correcting this chapter so fast!
Chapter 14: I'm sorry, I miss you, I need you
A few minutes after the girl's car had left, followed by a first Sedan and two minutes later by a second identical Sedan, a young woman stepped out of the shadows. She went over to where the Bristow girl and the Agent had stopped. From her place of hiding, she couldn't see precisely what it was that was so interesting. Now, looking around, she realised there was only one grave with flowers. She bent over and picked up a bouquet with a card attached on it. That must have been what interested the man in the dark suit. Her target had deposited her at the grave of a 'Laura Bristow'. The note simply read 'I'm sorry. I miss you. I need you.' Hesitating, the young woman pondered what her choices were. Eventually she took out her cell phone and pressed speed dial one.
"Yes?"
"It's me."
"You're early. What is it?"
The young woman was running surveillance on a young woman going by the name 'Sydney Bristow'. Her target was barely younger than she was. She made daily reports to her boss at 22h00.
"No. It's just…something unusual happened, I thought you would want to know immediately."
"What is it?"
"The girl, she went to a cemetery, she left flowers at the grave of a 'Laura Bristow'."
Irina inhaled sharply, "and?" she prompted.
"There is a card with it. One of the agents assigned to her went to read it. I went to check it out too, I have it in my hand."
"What does it read?"
"‘I'm sorry, I miss you, I need you'. Cryptic huh?"
“Thank you for informing me. Resume your surveillance. I'll expect another report tomorrow at 22h00 as usual."
"Yes Ma'am." The young woman wished she knew what the message meant, but she knew better than to ask questions. Setting her curiosity aside, she put on her helmet and climbed on her bike. It was her favourite way of transportation. It allowed her to go anywhere she wanted. She could slip in alleyways and hide. The CIA agents didn't pay attention to bikes; they were on the look out for cars and vans. Moreover, her Yamaha was a common model and she regularly switched helmets, just in case.
Another agent was making his report. Jack Bristow had ordered the men in charge of his daughter's surveillance to report to him every twelve hours. The agents were to tell him every detail of Sydney's day: where she had stopped, whom she had talked to…her cell phone and he also order the house’s phone lines tapped.
Tonight, it was time for the evening report. Jack Bristow answered on the first ring. "Bristow."
"Agent Bristow, Agent Maddox here."
"I'm listening."
The agent started to detail the every move of his target, and Jack interrupted him at the mention of her stop at the cemetery.
"Which grave did she visit?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"A 'Laura Bristow' sir. She brought flowers with a card. I checked it and it was nothing."
"What was written on it?"
"Err…I'm not sure, it wasn't important you know…"
"It is important Agent Maddox. Do you often leave cards on the graves you visit?"
"Uh…No sir," sheepishly replied the agent.
“Go back there if you have to but I want the exact words you read."
"Yes Sir."
Sydney had had two full days to ponder what she would tell Irina, if her mother ever showed up. She had come up with nothing. She felt guilty for driving Irina away. Maybe her mother hadn't shown up because the CIA agents were following her like her shadow.
Sydney was currently at the UCLA library. It was her first day back. It helped take her mind off things and she hated missing classes. It was so hard to catch up with only a friend's notes. The agents had followed her all day. They didn't even look like professors, more like businessmen than academics. If Sydney could spot them, then so could Irina. Sydney had to find a way to meet her mother without her escorts suspecting anything. The only safe place she could think of was her best friend's house.
"Hey Fran!" Called out Sydney a few hours later. She picked up her pace to catch up with her friend who was walking toward the university parking lot.
"Hey you, what's up?"
"I was wondering if we could have another movie night at your place. You know, with your parents out for their weekly dinner and all…I'll bring the food."
"Sure, sounds great."
"See you tomorrow night then? Seven?" Francie turned and walked toward her car.
"You got it,” called Sydney after her.
Francie had been climbing up and down the stairs for two hours now. She was going from one room to another, throwing things away, moving others. Her mother demanded she clean her bedroom. It was a much needed cleaning. She had stuff piled everywhere, coming from everywhere in the house. Sydney would be arriving in less than one hour and Francie's mother threatened to deprive her of her monthly allowance if her room wasn't spotless by the time she returned.
Her hands full of CDs that didn't belong to her, the young woman entered her brother's room. He had gone away to another university in North Carolina. They had family there and he had had a scholarship to help. She had borrowed some CDs of his a few months ago, but didn't listen to them anymore so she might as well put them back.
She pushed open the door and found the switch. She gasped. A woman was standing in the middle of the room, coolly looking at her.
"Who are you?"
The woman merely tilted her head, smiling.
"Oh my God!" as the realisation hit her. The shoes, the jacket. It was the scary masked woman. She wasn't wearing a mask anymore. "I didn't tell anything to anyone, I swear! Even Sydney doesn't know you're the one who brought her here…"
"Oh she knows, but don't worry, I am not here for blood Miss Calfo," smiled Irina reassuringly, slightly bowing her head. She was impatient to see her daughter. She was also dreading that meeting. Her last encounter with Sydney had proven that her daughter had no negative feelings toward her, but still, Irina needed to protect herself, emotionally. She couldn't handle another 'attack'. For now, she had to deal with a half hysterical eighteen years old who had caught her in a room that was supposed to be safe for her to hide in until Sydney arrived.
"Why are you standing in my brother's room in the middle of the night?" asked Francie, holding her breath.
"It's barely seven. I'm waiting for someone. Don't mind me, go back to your business, I'll make myself scarce."
"Waiting for someone? Who?" Thinking about it, the response was obvious. "Is it Sydney? Because if you think I'm going to let you…"
"You don't need to threaten me Miss Calfo. I'm deeply sorry to show up uninvited but I must see Sydney and this is the only place we could meet."
"Meet? You kidnapped her for God's sake."
"I'm well aware of that. I can promise you I wish her no harm." The young girl wouldn't let it go. If Sydney didn't show up soon, Irina might have to defend herself judging by Francie's tightly clenched fists.
The doorbell rang, interrupting any reply Francie might have had.
"Are you going to get that?" prompted Irina.
"No," Francie stubbornly replied. This woman was clearly here for Sydney, though her motives were still unclear, Francie wouldn't take any chances. That Russian woman would not get her hands on Sydney.
"Francie?" Repeated Sydney, shutting the door behind her. Over the years, both girls had grown closer and closer. They had a key to each other's house and often spent the night in one or the other's house. Francie hadn't answered the door nor had she replied to her calls. Maybe she was listening to some music with her headphones. Today was another movie night, but it was a special movie night. Sydney hoped her mother would have overheard her talking to Francie in the parking lot. She had purposely asked Francie outside, where Irina had a chance to overhear. It was a long shot but it was worth it, and Sydney had no other way of contacting her mother.
"We're here!" eventually called out a feminine voice from upstairs. Sydney was certain it was not Francie's voice. Sydney raced up the stairs. It was her mother's, she realised when Irina came on the top of the staircase to greet her.
"You came!" Sydney said, fiercely hugging Irina.
"You wanted to see me. Of course, I came."
"You wanted to see her?" questioned Francie, bewildered by the two women's ease around each other.
"Yeah…what are you doing here?" Why were her mother and her best friend not surprised to be in each other's company?
"This is my house," replied Francie sternly. "You invited her here?" she added, as if an afterthought.
"Yeah…more or less," mumbled Sydney, still shocked at seeing the most two important women in her life standing next to her.
"Are you insane?" shouted Francie. "She kidnapped you! She hit me! She's crazy and dangerous!"
"Francie, she's…"
"Sydney," interrupted Irina in a warning tone. It was bad enough the girl had seen her. She didn't need to know her name or who she was.
Sydney sighed, knowing what her mother implied. "Listen, I need to talk to her, privately. Can you go downstairs or something?"
"What?" shouted Francie, outraged.
"Please, Fran."
"I'm not leaving you alone with that psycho!"
There was a silence. Francie realised the woman she just called 'psycho' was probably carrying a gun and was dying to use it on her. Sydney was at a loss of what to say to convince her friend she would be fine. Finally, Irina broke off the stand off. Smiling reassuringly, she locked eyes with Francie, trying to convey her sincerity.
"Sydney is safe with me. We're not going anywhere. We are just going to talk."
"I'm not budging," stubbornly replied Francie, firmly planting her feet in the ground.
Sydney was tempted to roll her eyes, but touched by her friend's devotion, she did nothing. Irina had hit her and yet she was ready to fight her for Sydney. Letting go of that train of thought, Sydney motioned for her mother to follow her across the hall to another bedroom. She closed the door behind her.
"You wanted to see me?" asked Irina flatly.
Her mother's detachment startled Sydney, who quickly lost her smile. Her mother was grim, and suddenly, Sydney remembered their last conversation. Remorse hit her full force. "Mom…I'm so sorry about what I said…"
"What do you want, Sydney?" interrupted Irina. The fact that Sydney tried to contact her should have delighted her, but it didn't. She knew better than to hope for something that was unlikely to happen. She had been disappointed many times over the years. She had learned not to expect anything, from anyone. There was no disappointment, if there was no hope.
Irina had had a hard time deciding whether to come back to Los Angeles. She could have easily sent someone to ask Sydney what she wanted. Chloe was already on site, she was twenty years old, it would have been easy for her to approach Sydney discreetly and then convey to Irina whatever message she had received. No, Irina had to see Sydney. She couldn't let go so easily; she needed a 'fix'. She had willed herself though not to get involved in that meeting.
"I…" Sydney winced at her mother's cold tone. She deserved it, okay, but it was still a side of Irina she didn't know. Even when she didn't know it was Irina, who kidnapped her, she had been kind to Sydney, reassuring. Now she was chilling. "I'm really sorry; I didn't mean anything of what I said. I was upset, I…" She could feel her eyes sting from unshed tears. "That night in Italy, when we talked, it was amazing…I…I needed some time to think before I got back to LA. You took that away from me without telling me."
Irina was still staring at her, unflinching. "When I woke up in this hospital bed…I realised I would never see you again, ever." She was so intent on explaining how she had felt that she missed the pained look that crossed her mother's face. "I didn't want that. I wanted to stay around you some more, to talk about stuff. I wanted my mother. Instead, I got an interrogation from Dad!" After a silence, she thought about what she had just said, and lamely added, "I have no excuse for what I told to you." She lowered her head in shame, praying her mother would make some sort of contact with her.
"Sydney…" Irina's plan was not to succumb to any feelings she might feel for her daughter. She was going to stick to that plan, no matter what. Still, she softened a little. "What do you want me to tell you, Sydney?" She was dying to hug her daughter, or at the very least, to step closer to her. However, she couldn't get hurt again.
Irina Derevko was a prominent agent of the SVR, one of the best, if not 'the' best. People respected her or feared her. In both cases, no one in their right mind would try to hurt her. Figuratively speaking of course, as she had been shot, stabbed, punched, captured, tortured, and any number of unspeakable things done to her, but no one had ever caused her pain as great as Sydney had with words.
Sydney realised her mother had been really hurt by her words, though she didn't show it. However, the fact she was keeping her distance from Sydney and refusing to acknowledge her apologies was speaking volumes. Sydney had treated her mother like…scum. She had been disrespectful and above all, hurtful. Of course, giving vent to her feelings wasn’t all her fault. After all, her mother did drug her, kidnapped her, and drugged her again. Still, she had the feeling she had caused a great deal of pain to her mother and she wished she could take it back. She couldn't. It was too late.
Sydney sighed. "I just needed to talk to you…I thought it was going to be different, with Dad…"
"What happened?" Irina stiffened slightly.
"Nothing! That's the problem! At first he was kind of nice, nicer than usual I mean. He acted as if he cared…and then, one morning I woke up and he's gone. He left without telling me, just as he did before. He got back to ignoring me and leaving me alone…"
"Sydney, I'm so sorry…" Irina's hand affectionately brushed against Sydney's cheek.
"I think he knows I'm hiding something," gravely added Sydney.
Irina sighed. "What do you want from me, Sydney?"
"I don't know…I'm not sure. I had my mom and my dad for the first six years of my life. For the last twelve years, I only got my Dad and he was never much of a Dad to me. I got a taste of my Mom and I want more. I want to be with you."
Irina was stunned. She hadn't expected that. Needing to be certain, she asked, "What do you mean you want to be with me?"
"I want to live with you. If you want me," quietly added Sydney, unsure of what to expect.
"Of course, I want you Sydney, you're my daughter! I've always wanted to be with you but…I don't have a 'Mom's lifestyle'. If you want to live with me, you'll have to leave the United States, your friends, your father! It demands many sacrifices and you're still so young…"
"I'm an adult, Mom, and I was going to move away from the house next year. It's too far from campus. I don't mind leaving the US, really. As long as I get to be with you I would follow you anywhere."
Irina was touched by her daughter's words. She did not expect this development. "If we do that, I can't go back to Russia either. The SVR will know I had a role in your escape. They'll want my head. I can't promise you it will be nice and comfortable everyday. It won't be easy, it's a complete change of lifestyle, Sydney."
"Mom, I had days to think about it. I made my decision, whatever the consequences, the changes, or the sacrifices; I want to live with you. You told me you want to live with me too but…how do we do that?"
"I'll need a few days to work on it. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, you have to act like usual. Don't say goodbye to anyone or lead people to believe you won't be there next week for a party or anything. No one must know, not even Francie. Do you understand Sydney?"
"Yeah," murmured Sydney, realising it would be harder than she thought.
"Good. You should go now; your friend must be worried."
"Yeah. Thank you, Mom."
"I love you Sweetheart." Irina smiled warmly as she kissed Sydney on the forehead. She had meant to say it for a long time, with reason behind it, just because she felt like it, and not as a reply like in Italy.
"I love you too Mom."
Sydney was grinning from ear to ear as she wandered in search of her friend. She eventually found her downstairs in the living room.
"Hey, you moved," she teased, plopping on the couch.
"Yeah, sorry I behaved like an idiot."
"Its okay, you just acted like a friend. I'm grateful for that. What's on tonight?"
Francie glanced at her. Sydney was literally glowing. Francie understood she didn't want to talk about whatever had happened upstairs with the woman. She cheerfully announced the films available and the evening went on as usual.
"Hello? Scary lady?" Francie quietly called out several times, hugging the walls as she progressed through her house.
"Are you looking for me?" Asked the woman, stepping out from the end of the corridor, behind Francie.
"Jesus Christ!" Francie backed into the wall, gasping for breath.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," apologized Irina softly. Francie nodded, too scared to talk.
"What do you intend on doing with that?" she asked, pointing to the umbrella Francie was clutching.
"Ow…Uh…Just in case…you weren't as friendly as Sydney seems to think you are. Sorry for calling you 'scary lady', you didn't exactly tell me your name last time I saw you…" After a silence, she added, "Syd didn't either. She left."
"Obviously. So, is there something you wanted to ask me before I leave?" inquired Irina politely. She had hit the girl hard, and she was Sydney's best friend. Making small talk with her was the least Irina could do.
"I…I don't understand why Sydney would want to see you, unless she's gone insane or suicidal, which I don't think she is."
"Your point?" prompted Irina.
"I…I was just curious. She seemed happy when she came back down. I was wondering what had happened."
"Curiosity killed the cat Miss Calfo," Irina gently scolded.
Francie drew in a shaky breath, "Yeah, I see. Goodnight." She ran back to her room and slammed the door behind her. Sydney was hiding something from her. Best friends didn't hide something from each other. It was just not like Sydney to lie to her face.
Irina couldn't help but smile at her daughter's best friend. She had waited until Sydney and her surveillance team left before leaving herself. She tried to concentrate on the task. She had a lot to think about now. It was time to leave and prepare for hers and Sydney's departure. There were many things to do and it would take some time to fall into place. The easiest would be to procure new ID's, but for that, she needed to find a new home. She needed a developed country, where an American wouldn't stand out. She needed it to be convenient to hide from both the American and the Russian authorities. She was thinking of a European country, preferably in a major city. Italy? Spain? France maybe?
Then there was the problem of leaving the United States. Sydney was under tight surveillance. They couldn’t afford to be followed to the airport. She also had to warn Sydney before taking her anywhere. Her daughter would be furious with her, and rightfully so, if she was to take her away without warning. Irina needed to make sure that Sydney really wanted to leave the US with her and live in another country. She had come to Irina because her father wasn't acting like one. Irina couldn't have her change her mind, she would have nothing left then. She would be on the run from the CIA and the KGB on her own.
Irina needed to make sure it was what Sydney really wanted without a doubt.
TBC
*~Celtic Jedi~*
Cadet
hi. I was reading this on fanfiction.net and I love it! It's a great Irina/syd story. PM me when you update, please thanks!
thanks!sunsetgirl
Cadet
Thanks for PM
Great as always. Great job.
Great as always. Great job.
pasta_sauce385
Cadet
Nice work!
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Eyghon
Author's notes: I hope you're all happy with how it's turning out. It's not over yet, I'm just hesitating on how to proceed. There will be some contact between Jack and Irina, directly or indirectly I'm not sure yet but I'm working on it. Thanks to Lenafan for beta reading this chapter.
Chapter 15: There will be no goodbyes
Sydney stopped at a red light. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon. She was driving with the windows open, enjoying the feel of the wind on her face. A motorcycle pulled up beside her. The driver, a woman she noticed, was revving up the gas. Sydney didn't realise it at the moment, but it was probably in case her escorts tried to listen in.
"Hi!"
Sydney glanced at her, surprised, and nodded.
"Irina sent me."
Now the young woman had Sydney's whole attention. Sydney hadn't have heard of her in two days, tonight would make it three. Mindful of her tails, she tried to keep her composure.
"Go to your friend's house, tonight."
Sydney nodded, confirming she got the message. The light turned green again. The biker accelerated through the intersection before Sydney stepped on the gas.
When she got home, her father was at the kitchen counter, going through the mail.
"Hi," said Sydney, heading for the stairs.
"Stay here, I need to talk to you," replied Jack, continuing his reading as Sydney went to stand in front of him. She waited patiently and he eventually lifted his eyes off the mail. His gaze was penetrating. He was searching her. During the little time he had been here after her release from the hospital, she felt he was holding back on her. He wanted to ask her something, but didn't deem her ready. Until now, it seemed. "How is school?"
That took Sydney by surprise. "Fine, I guess."
Jack nodded curtly, seemingly waiting for something. Getting nervous, Sydney caved in, "Dad what do you want?"
He rewarded her with a direct answer. "The people watching you reported you went to your mother's grave recently."
Sydney gulped; so that was it. He had doubts since she came back, and her going to her mother's grave confirmed his suspicions. She tried not to let it show but she was definitely worried now. "I thought they were there to protect me, not to spy on me or invade my privacy and report their findings to you." She had tried to cover herself by an irritated reply, making Jack the villain who’d done something wrong. It didn't work; it made him only more skeptical of her story.
"Sydney, why did you go to your mother's grave, why now?"
The young girl knew her visiting it irritated him. Always had, ever since he had come back from wherever he was after Laura's death. He refused to talk about his late wife, even to Sydney. He had forbidden her to mention her. Once, her nanny took her to the cemetery. He fired her. She didn't know she was not supposed to bring her young charge to see Mrs. Bristow's grave, but still, he had gotten rid of her. The next time Sydney was able to go to her mother's grave was when she was authorized to leave the house on her own. She was fourteen and hadn't told her father, who was away when she had gone. Now she knew why. He had known. During all those years, he knew who his wife had been. Maybe he didn't know she was alive now, but he sure as hell knew she had been KGB when she married him. Hence his resentment of her.
She made up a reply she hoped was convincing enough to satisfy him. "I was really scared. I thought I was going to die, so I thought of Mom a lot while I was away. When it was over, when I was back here…I just had to see her."
"Why the flowers?" Jack asked, prodding mercilessly.
"You brought flowers when you visit a grave, Dad. It's what normal people do," Sydney retorted, ironicly.
"But they don't put a card in it." He accused. He thought he was going to get her, Sydney realised. He was wrong. There was too much at stake for her to mess up. She had to keep up the pretence that everything was fine and that she didn't know where he was going with his questions. She had to play the guileless teenager who was getting annoyed with her father's inquiries.
"I can't believe you would go so far and intrude like that. I have a right to a personal life you know! Some things are private for a reason!" Before her father's stern look, she sighed and replied, half feigning distress, "I couldn't say it out loud…" She took a pause, sniffled, and closed her eyes as if trying to collect herself.
Every kid did that once, lied his ass off to his parents, playing the emotional part to be left off the hook. There was no reason it would not work on Jack. He didn't think enough of her to consider she was manipulating him. "So I wrote it. Excuse me." She left the room, wiping at her eyes. He said nothing, didn't look at her leave. It wasn't all for show. Saying those things to him, thinking about her childhood after her mother's 'death' had brought emotions to the surfaces. Emotions she didn't know she still felt, even though she knew her mother was alive.
Jack felt unsure. Was Sydney sincere or was she playing him? When Agent Maddox had returned to the cemetery the card was missing.
For now, he had no way of telling if Sydney was lying or not. He didn't know her like he used to but she knew him. She knew how to block him out and he didn't know how to get in. The people he usually interrogated didn't know him, didn't know how to protect themselves from him before he had invaded their mind and gotten what he wanted out of them. This was going to be harder than he expected. He had a feeling something was wrong and wouldn't stop searching until he found what it was that Sydney was hiding.
When Sydney asked Francie if she could come over for movie night, Francie threw her a reproachful glare, "you're going to talk to the scary lady again?"
"Yeah, but when we're done we can watch movies and eat junk food. It probably won't take long, I swear."
Francie sighed, "I'm still your best friend, right?"
"Yes, of course! Why would you think otherwise?"
"Syd, I've known you for years, you're like a sister to me. I can tell when you're lying to me. I hate that. I can understand you have to hide things from me. Just don't lie to me please, tell me you can't answer, but don’t look at me in the eye and tell me s***."
Sydney was shocked. She didn't know her friend had noticed she was lying. She didn't know it hurt Francie so much to be lied to. She felt ashamed, for what she was doing, and for what she would do, eventually. Her mother's words stuck in her head. Soon she would have to leave her father, her friends, her studies behind. She would have to quit her life. Things would never be the same again for her and her father. She knew that, but she hadn't expected Francie to be so affected. What would she think when she learned Sydney was missing, on her own free will this time? What would she think when she understood her friend left her without even so much of as a goodbye?
Sydney wanted to live with her mother. It had always been her dream. When her mother had 'died', she had wished she'd had more time with her. Now that it was possible and she couldn't let the opportunity slip through her fingers.
What's a best friend? I can get myself another one. I had a best friend in pre-school, another one in school, and then…Then Francie had come along in middle school, had stayed with her in high school and was still here in college. Sydney sighed. It wouldn't be as easy as she had thought.
And her father…
"Okay," answered Sydney quietly. "See you later."
Francie nodded, biting her lips, and walked away.
Sydney went upstairs in search of Irina, whom Francie hadn't tried to find. Sydney felt bad, lying to her friend but she was also thinking of what would happen when it was time to leave. Irina warned her it would be a new country, a new way of life, and that she would have nothing left from home. She couldn't call her friends or even her father for a certain amount of time, at least until they were settled. She would have to leave Francie without telling her goodbye. Her friend would probably hate her for the rest of her life.
"Hello Sydney."
Sydney looked up. Lost in thoughts, she had almost bumped into Irina who was waiting for her in the guest bedroom, the same they had occupied last time.
"Mom! What is it?" Her mother's actions were always unsettling. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking, what she wanted, or why she was acting the way she did. Tonight, she looked grim, almost…resolute. Yeah, that was it. Sydney knew better than to see it as a bad sign, but still, her voice was chilling.
Irina willed herself not to screw this up. She had decided she would have to resort to drastic measures to ensure Sydney had definitely made up her mind. Even if it meant her daughter would get hurt in the process or would hate Irina.
"I can't take you with me."
"What?" Disbelief and hurt flashed across Sydney's face.
"I have lived alone the past twelve years," started Irina. It was actually ten but she wasn't about to mention her Kashmir stay. "I can't take care of a child."
"But…you can't be serious! I'm not a child, I'm eighteen!" Sydney was angry.
"My answer is 'no', Sydney. It's not open to discussion."
"What happened?" Gone was the lost and scared child. Irina was facing a grown up woman, her daughter, who had questions and 'demanded' answers. 'It's a grown up matter' wouldn't work here.
"I love you very much sweetheart, never doubt that…"
"What happened?" repeated Sydney, lower, colder.
Irina sighed. Sydney wouldn't take an evasive answer either. Irina settled for the truth. She owed her that. "You said it yourself, you're eighteen. Your future lies here. Your life lies here. You belong with your friends. With your father," she softly added. "Who am I to take that away from you, to take you away from them?"
"And who are you to decide for me? Who are you to decide what's best for me?"
"I'm your mother, I know."
"On what are you basing your analysis? Huh? You don't know me Mother. You know nothing about me and you dare to judge what I want and don't want."
"It's not about what you want; it's about what's best. I want the best for you."
"And why do you think the best is here and not with you?"
"Sydney I am not Laura Bristow, I am not an English literature teacher. I am not a nice average American housewife. I am a Russian spy, an assassin." Irina hoped she would not traumatize her daughter more than she already was, but she needed to get her point across.
"But you're my mother!"
The reply was so simple and obvious, and yet so unexpected that Irina just stood, stunned, and listened as Sydney continued her tirade. "We're two different persons from when we last saw each other, before the accident. You're more than all of this, as I'm more than a Literature student. I want to know the new you, or rather, the real you."
"But what if you don't like it?" Irina didn't care to show her weaknesses to her daughter. She knew Sydney wouldn't think less of her. They both needed the release and the trust.
"I know I will Mom. I'm not a six-year-old girl who cries when she falls and scratches her knee. I am not afraid of the monsters under the bed. I am an adult who deserves your respect as such. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, especially when they involve my future."
"But your father…" Irina pressed.
"Mom, I am not 'Daddy's girl' anymore. He won't miss me and I won't miss him."
"Whatever you think of him, everything he does he does it to protect you Sydney. He always had your best interests at heart."
"He pushed me away Mom. When I try to get closer, he pushes me further. It's too late. We're too far from each other now. He had me for twelve years and he wasted that time for the benefit of his work. You probably know me better than he does, yet you've only known me for two weeks."
Irina was distraught. Everything her daughter had said rang true. She wanted to hug her so much and never let go. She wished she could stop tormenting her daughter and herself but she had one last card to play. Then, she would be certain of whatever decision she reached.
"Sydney, when you were in Russia, didn't you think about him? You told me you were worried about him."
"Yes, I thought about him. I also thought about everything that I didn't get to do. I was scared Mom, I thought I was going to die. I wished he were there because he's my father. I also wished you, my mother, were there, before I knew you were right under my nose the whole time. And yes I was worried about him, because I saw what your death did to him.” Sydney saw her mother wince.
“But I also worry about the kids I baby sit. I worry about Francie's parents. They're people who are in my life, so I worry about them, but it doesn't mean I'm not ready to let them go. If it means I get to be with you, I'm willing to let go of everything and everyone, Mom. Why can't you understand that?"
Irina felt tears prickle her eyes. Never had anyone made her such a declaration. It was heart breaking in its sincerity and purity. The first time she had felt this way was when her daughter had told her 'I love you, Mummy' after Irina scolded her for breaking a lamp in the house.
Her daughter was right, she knew. It was her turn to have Sydney now. She had a shot and it was her right to take it. Still, she needed Sydney's confession of love to make up her mind. Without that precious moment, she couldn't have had simply accepted Sydney's 'defection'. Despite what she had witnessed with her own eyes and what Sydney had told her, Irina knew Jack loved his daughter as much as she did. She remembered how it hurt not to have her daughter with her. She hadn't felt like doing this to him. However, Sydney had changed that. She made the decision for Irina, her own decision. After all, Sydney had the most to lose. She was vehement about living with Irina. She wouldn't back down an inch. If possible, she had given Irina more reasons to love her, not that she needed one. Sydney had her mother's unconditional love, always had had it, whether it was from a distance or not.
"Sweetheart, you're an amazing woman, you know that?" Sydney smiled and hugged her mother as tight as she could.
"Of course I know, and I have a pretty good idea of where it comes from."
Irina laughed softly in her daughter's hair. "One more thing, Sydney," she felt the young girl stiffen in her arms. "Do you have a preference?"
Sydney pulled back, confused. "A preference?"
"For our new home. Is there a country you favour?"
"France," blurted out Sydney, not sure why.
"Then France it is."
"Really? Just like that?"
"Yes, anything my daughter wants." Irina smiled, pulled Sydney’s hair behind her ear, and looked into her face.
Sydney smiled. "I wish we could spend more time together but…"
"Your friend, I know. You should go. Soon we'll have all the time in the world, but for now you should make the best out of the time you have with your friend."
"Yeah. She truly is a great friend. She knows I'm lying to her but she didn't ask any questions. I already feel bad about leaving her…but I won't back out," she quickly added after seeing Irina's worried look. "I'm certain Mom, serious, trust me, I won't let you down."
"It's not about letting me down Sydney, it's about what you really want, in your heart."
"I want to be with you, period," reassured Sydney, kissing her mother's cheek. "Will you warn me?"
"Yes." Sydney didn't need to be more specific. As Irina had thought, her daughter feared she might wake up in a foreign country, France as it was decided, with no memory of leaving the US. "I promise you, I'll give you time to prepare yourself. And if you want to know something, you just have to ask."
"Okay."
"Go now." Irina kissed Sydney goodbye.
Irina had spent the last two days working on their departure from the US. She had it all figured out. Now that she had the destination, she needed to have a jet take Sydney and her from the Vancouver airport to Paris. After that, she would have to find a flat where they would settle. It had to be spacious, comfortable, and in the centre of Paris.
Money wasn't an issue: Irina, as every prominent agent, had gathered quite the retirement pension over the years. It didn't hurt to do some moon lighting, and in this business, the payoffs were high.
The card was missing. That's what Agent Maddox reported to Jack the day after his talk with Sydney. The flowers were still on the grave but the card wasn't. Someone took it. Maddox was certain it couldn't have flown away with the wind. Someone had come to the cemetery after Sydney and after the CIA agents.
Someone else other than the CIA was following Sydney. The question is, did she know it or not? It added up. Her answer hadn't satisfied him, it just didn't seem realistic. His theory was much more plausible. Really, why leave a message on a tombstone? It was a drop. Someone had picked it up. Jack needed to get that someone because Sydney would give him nothing. He was going to find that person and make her talk.
Sitting in his car, Jack Bristow was observing Agent Maddox and his colleague observing Sydney's car while she was attending her classes. Another team was inside with her, following her from room to room as discreetly as they could.
His gaze left the blue sedan to search the premises for another watcher. If Jack were looking for a professional, the person wouldn't be easy to find. He, or she, would probably act casually and blend in. However, Jack was smart, and experienced too. He himself had done this kind of work so he knew how those people reasoned. He knew the tricks to hide in plain sight, to be close to your mark without being noticed.
He proceeded to profile the person he was looking for. Sydney was a student. She was probably followed through her campus. Jack decided he was looking for a young woman in her twenties, pretty but not stunning. Pretty would allow her to go wherever she wanted without being questioned. She would stand out if stunning and people would remember her. She must possess a way of transportation, which didn't help Jack, as every student owned a car or a bike.
It struck Jack then, that despite their incompetence, the agents would have noticed a car following their mark all day. Even if the person had changed car, they would have seen and memorized the diver's face. His agents were on the look out for a suspect car, not a suspect motorbike. He contacted Maddox and ordered his team to run a check on all the motorcycles. The agent seemed annoyed, but didn't protest. He was talking to Jack Bristow.
One hour later, Maddox came to sit in his car, his laptop in hand.
"We found something, Sir."
"What is it?"
"Most of the vehicles we checked belong to professors or students. Actually, all their owners have a legit reason to be parked here."
"So what did you find?" Grumbled Jack, impatient.
"Three of the owners are students who registered within a month. One particular one got my attention. Chloé Sullivan. She moved here from New York one week ago. She's studying for a Bachelor’s degree in Literature.
"It's her," firmly declared Jack. "Apprehend her discreetly. If she gets away, consider yourselves unemployed." He left the agent here and went to the office. He had some research to do. He wanted to know everything about this Chloé Sullivan before she was brought in. It was easier to interrogate someone you knew. You got more answers out of them and you could tell if they were telling the truth or not.
"Chloé Sullivan?"
The young woman turned around and found herself face to face with two men dressed in dark suits. She saw another one come behind her. She was trapped. She was not going anywhere but she could still pretend she didn't know why they were here.
"Yes? Who are you?"
"You're under arrest."
"Why? What for?"
"Please follow us quietly."
She complied and they put her in a black SUV. After a thirty-minute drive during which every occupant of the vehicle remained silent, the SUV entered an official looking government building. There were flags in the front entrance and a giant sign on the pavement. They took her to a guarded side entrance and from there to what she assumed was an interrogation room. She hoped her employer would get wind of her arrest and have time to run.
A salt and pepper haired man entered after them and motioned for the others to leave. She recognised him as Jack Bristow, a CIA agent. Her employer had told her not to get too close to the man while following the young girl, his daughter. The situation couldn't be any worse. She was so screwed.
"Whom are you working for?" It was the first thing out of Bristow's mouth.
Chloé sighed, expecting this line of questioning. She would have to answer, eventually. Derevko had told her what would happen if she were caught. They would get everything they wanted out of her, by whatever means they deemed necessary. She had to stall Bristow as long as possible, to give Derevko a chance to leave. Once the woman was out of the US, it wouldn't matter if they knew it was Derevko, who had hired Chloé to keep an eye on the girl. It wouldn't matter because by that time, Irina Derevko wouldn't exist anymore.
"Someone paid you to follow Sydney Bristow, I want to know who."
"The name sounds familiar, I think she's attending a few classes with me but I never spoke to her," replied Chloé, annoyed.
"I'm sure you didn't. We know you've been following her every move since she was released," continued the man.
"I don't know what you are talking about." It was the truth. What was he talking about release? She had only been there for a week. She had seen bruises on Sydney's face, but her employer never mentioned anything prior to when she had arrived.
"Yes?"
"It’s I. The biker was apprehended."
“How long ago?"
"One hour."
"Thank you."
Irina hung up, livid. Time was running out.
TBC
Eyghon
Author's notes: I hope you're all happy with how it's turning out. It's not over yet, I'm just hesitating on how to proceed. There will be some contact between Jack and Irina, directly or indirectly I'm not sure yet but I'm working on it. Thanks to Lenafan for beta reading this chapter.
Chapter 15: There will be no goodbyes
Sydney stopped at a red light. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon. She was driving with the windows open, enjoying the feel of the wind on her face. A motorcycle pulled up beside her. The driver, a woman she noticed, was revving up the gas. Sydney didn't realise it at the moment, but it was probably in case her escorts tried to listen in.
"Hi!"
Sydney glanced at her, surprised, and nodded.
"Irina sent me."
Now the young woman had Sydney's whole attention. Sydney hadn't have heard of her in two days, tonight would make it three. Mindful of her tails, she tried to keep her composure.
"Go to your friend's house, tonight."
Sydney nodded, confirming she got the message. The light turned green again. The biker accelerated through the intersection before Sydney stepped on the gas.
When she got home, her father was at the kitchen counter, going through the mail.
"Hi," said Sydney, heading for the stairs.
"Stay here, I need to talk to you," replied Jack, continuing his reading as Sydney went to stand in front of him. She waited patiently and he eventually lifted his eyes off the mail. His gaze was penetrating. He was searching her. During the little time he had been here after her release from the hospital, she felt he was holding back on her. He wanted to ask her something, but didn't deem her ready. Until now, it seemed. "How is school?"
That took Sydney by surprise. "Fine, I guess."
Jack nodded curtly, seemingly waiting for something. Getting nervous, Sydney caved in, "Dad what do you want?"
He rewarded her with a direct answer. "The people watching you reported you went to your mother's grave recently."
Sydney gulped; so that was it. He had doubts since she came back, and her going to her mother's grave confirmed his suspicions. She tried not to let it show but she was definitely worried now. "I thought they were there to protect me, not to spy on me or invade my privacy and report their findings to you." She had tried to cover herself by an irritated reply, making Jack the villain who’d done something wrong. It didn't work; it made him only more skeptical of her story.
"Sydney, why did you go to your mother's grave, why now?"
The young girl knew her visiting it irritated him. Always had, ever since he had come back from wherever he was after Laura's death. He refused to talk about his late wife, even to Sydney. He had forbidden her to mention her. Once, her nanny took her to the cemetery. He fired her. She didn't know she was not supposed to bring her young charge to see Mrs. Bristow's grave, but still, he had gotten rid of her. The next time Sydney was able to go to her mother's grave was when she was authorized to leave the house on her own. She was fourteen and hadn't told her father, who was away when she had gone. Now she knew why. He had known. During all those years, he knew who his wife had been. Maybe he didn't know she was alive now, but he sure as hell knew she had been KGB when she married him. Hence his resentment of her.
She made up a reply she hoped was convincing enough to satisfy him. "I was really scared. I thought I was going to die, so I thought of Mom a lot while I was away. When it was over, when I was back here…I just had to see her."
"Why the flowers?" Jack asked, prodding mercilessly.
"You brought flowers when you visit a grave, Dad. It's what normal people do," Sydney retorted, ironicly.
"But they don't put a card in it." He accused. He thought he was going to get her, Sydney realised. He was wrong. There was too much at stake for her to mess up. She had to keep up the pretence that everything was fine and that she didn't know where he was going with his questions. She had to play the guileless teenager who was getting annoyed with her father's inquiries.
"I can't believe you would go so far and intrude like that. I have a right to a personal life you know! Some things are private for a reason!" Before her father's stern look, she sighed and replied, half feigning distress, "I couldn't say it out loud…" She took a pause, sniffled, and closed her eyes as if trying to collect herself.
Every kid did that once, lied his ass off to his parents, playing the emotional part to be left off the hook. There was no reason it would not work on Jack. He didn't think enough of her to consider she was manipulating him. "So I wrote it. Excuse me." She left the room, wiping at her eyes. He said nothing, didn't look at her leave. It wasn't all for show. Saying those things to him, thinking about her childhood after her mother's 'death' had brought emotions to the surfaces. Emotions she didn't know she still felt, even though she knew her mother was alive.
Jack felt unsure. Was Sydney sincere or was she playing him? When Agent Maddox had returned to the cemetery the card was missing.
For now, he had no way of telling if Sydney was lying or not. He didn't know her like he used to but she knew him. She knew how to block him out and he didn't know how to get in. The people he usually interrogated didn't know him, didn't know how to protect themselves from him before he had invaded their mind and gotten what he wanted out of them. This was going to be harder than he expected. He had a feeling something was wrong and wouldn't stop searching until he found what it was that Sydney was hiding.
When Sydney asked Francie if she could come over for movie night, Francie threw her a reproachful glare, "you're going to talk to the scary lady again?"
"Yeah, but when we're done we can watch movies and eat junk food. It probably won't take long, I swear."
Francie sighed, "I'm still your best friend, right?"
"Yes, of course! Why would you think otherwise?"
"Syd, I've known you for years, you're like a sister to me. I can tell when you're lying to me. I hate that. I can understand you have to hide things from me. Just don't lie to me please, tell me you can't answer, but don’t look at me in the eye and tell me s***."
Sydney was shocked. She didn't know her friend had noticed she was lying. She didn't know it hurt Francie so much to be lied to. She felt ashamed, for what she was doing, and for what she would do, eventually. Her mother's words stuck in her head. Soon she would have to leave her father, her friends, her studies behind. She would have to quit her life. Things would never be the same again for her and her father. She knew that, but she hadn't expected Francie to be so affected. What would she think when she learned Sydney was missing, on her own free will this time? What would she think when she understood her friend left her without even so much of as a goodbye?
Sydney wanted to live with her mother. It had always been her dream. When her mother had 'died', she had wished she'd had more time with her. Now that it was possible and she couldn't let the opportunity slip through her fingers.
What's a best friend? I can get myself another one. I had a best friend in pre-school, another one in school, and then…Then Francie had come along in middle school, had stayed with her in high school and was still here in college. Sydney sighed. It wouldn't be as easy as she had thought.
And her father…
"Okay," answered Sydney quietly. "See you later."
Francie nodded, biting her lips, and walked away.
Sydney went upstairs in search of Irina, whom Francie hadn't tried to find. Sydney felt bad, lying to her friend but she was also thinking of what would happen when it was time to leave. Irina warned her it would be a new country, a new way of life, and that she would have nothing left from home. She couldn't call her friends or even her father for a certain amount of time, at least until they were settled. She would have to leave Francie without telling her goodbye. Her friend would probably hate her for the rest of her life.
"Hello Sydney."
Sydney looked up. Lost in thoughts, she had almost bumped into Irina who was waiting for her in the guest bedroom, the same they had occupied last time.
"Mom! What is it?" Her mother's actions were always unsettling. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking, what she wanted, or why she was acting the way she did. Tonight, she looked grim, almost…resolute. Yeah, that was it. Sydney knew better than to see it as a bad sign, but still, her voice was chilling.
Irina willed herself not to screw this up. She had decided she would have to resort to drastic measures to ensure Sydney had definitely made up her mind. Even if it meant her daughter would get hurt in the process or would hate Irina.
"I can't take you with me."
"What?" Disbelief and hurt flashed across Sydney's face.
"I have lived alone the past twelve years," started Irina. It was actually ten but she wasn't about to mention her Kashmir stay. "I can't take care of a child."
"But…you can't be serious! I'm not a child, I'm eighteen!" Sydney was angry.
"My answer is 'no', Sydney. It's not open to discussion."
"What happened?" Gone was the lost and scared child. Irina was facing a grown up woman, her daughter, who had questions and 'demanded' answers. 'It's a grown up matter' wouldn't work here.
"I love you very much sweetheart, never doubt that…"
"What happened?" repeated Sydney, lower, colder.
Irina sighed. Sydney wouldn't take an evasive answer either. Irina settled for the truth. She owed her that. "You said it yourself, you're eighteen. Your future lies here. Your life lies here. You belong with your friends. With your father," she softly added. "Who am I to take that away from you, to take you away from them?"
"And who are you to decide for me? Who are you to decide what's best for me?"
"I'm your mother, I know."
"On what are you basing your analysis? Huh? You don't know me Mother. You know nothing about me and you dare to judge what I want and don't want."
"It's not about what you want; it's about what's best. I want the best for you."
"And why do you think the best is here and not with you?"
"Sydney I am not Laura Bristow, I am not an English literature teacher. I am not a nice average American housewife. I am a Russian spy, an assassin." Irina hoped she would not traumatize her daughter more than she already was, but she needed to get her point across.
"But you're my mother!"
The reply was so simple and obvious, and yet so unexpected that Irina just stood, stunned, and listened as Sydney continued her tirade. "We're two different persons from when we last saw each other, before the accident. You're more than all of this, as I'm more than a Literature student. I want to know the new you, or rather, the real you."
"But what if you don't like it?" Irina didn't care to show her weaknesses to her daughter. She knew Sydney wouldn't think less of her. They both needed the release and the trust.
"I know I will Mom. I'm not a six-year-old girl who cries when she falls and scratches her knee. I am not afraid of the monsters under the bed. I am an adult who deserves your respect as such. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, especially when they involve my future."
"But your father…" Irina pressed.
"Mom, I am not 'Daddy's girl' anymore. He won't miss me and I won't miss him."
"Whatever you think of him, everything he does he does it to protect you Sydney. He always had your best interests at heart."
"He pushed me away Mom. When I try to get closer, he pushes me further. It's too late. We're too far from each other now. He had me for twelve years and he wasted that time for the benefit of his work. You probably know me better than he does, yet you've only known me for two weeks."
Irina was distraught. Everything her daughter had said rang true. She wanted to hug her so much and never let go. She wished she could stop tormenting her daughter and herself but she had one last card to play. Then, she would be certain of whatever decision she reached.
"Sydney, when you were in Russia, didn't you think about him? You told me you were worried about him."
"Yes, I thought about him. I also thought about everything that I didn't get to do. I was scared Mom, I thought I was going to die. I wished he were there because he's my father. I also wished you, my mother, were there, before I knew you were right under my nose the whole time. And yes I was worried about him, because I saw what your death did to him.” Sydney saw her mother wince.
“But I also worry about the kids I baby sit. I worry about Francie's parents. They're people who are in my life, so I worry about them, but it doesn't mean I'm not ready to let them go. If it means I get to be with you, I'm willing to let go of everything and everyone, Mom. Why can't you understand that?"
Irina felt tears prickle her eyes. Never had anyone made her such a declaration. It was heart breaking in its sincerity and purity. The first time she had felt this way was when her daughter had told her 'I love you, Mummy' after Irina scolded her for breaking a lamp in the house.
Her daughter was right, she knew. It was her turn to have Sydney now. She had a shot and it was her right to take it. Still, she needed Sydney's confession of love to make up her mind. Without that precious moment, she couldn't have had simply accepted Sydney's 'defection'. Despite what she had witnessed with her own eyes and what Sydney had told her, Irina knew Jack loved his daughter as much as she did. She remembered how it hurt not to have her daughter with her. She hadn't felt like doing this to him. However, Sydney had changed that. She made the decision for Irina, her own decision. After all, Sydney had the most to lose. She was vehement about living with Irina. She wouldn't back down an inch. If possible, she had given Irina more reasons to love her, not that she needed one. Sydney had her mother's unconditional love, always had had it, whether it was from a distance or not.
"Sweetheart, you're an amazing woman, you know that?" Sydney smiled and hugged her mother as tight as she could.
"Of course I know, and I have a pretty good idea of where it comes from."
Irina laughed softly in her daughter's hair. "One more thing, Sydney," she felt the young girl stiffen in her arms. "Do you have a preference?"
Sydney pulled back, confused. "A preference?"
"For our new home. Is there a country you favour?"
"France," blurted out Sydney, not sure why.
"Then France it is."
"Really? Just like that?"
"Yes, anything my daughter wants." Irina smiled, pulled Sydney’s hair behind her ear, and looked into her face.
Sydney smiled. "I wish we could spend more time together but…"
"Your friend, I know. You should go. Soon we'll have all the time in the world, but for now you should make the best out of the time you have with your friend."
"Yeah. She truly is a great friend. She knows I'm lying to her but she didn't ask any questions. I already feel bad about leaving her…but I won't back out," she quickly added after seeing Irina's worried look. "I'm certain Mom, serious, trust me, I won't let you down."
"It's not about letting me down Sydney, it's about what you really want, in your heart."
"I want to be with you, period," reassured Sydney, kissing her mother's cheek. "Will you warn me?"
"Yes." Sydney didn't need to be more specific. As Irina had thought, her daughter feared she might wake up in a foreign country, France as it was decided, with no memory of leaving the US. "I promise you, I'll give you time to prepare yourself. And if you want to know something, you just have to ask."
"Okay."
"Go now." Irina kissed Sydney goodbye.
Irina had spent the last two days working on their departure from the US. She had it all figured out. Now that she had the destination, she needed to have a jet take Sydney and her from the Vancouver airport to Paris. After that, she would have to find a flat where they would settle. It had to be spacious, comfortable, and in the centre of Paris.
Money wasn't an issue: Irina, as every prominent agent, had gathered quite the retirement pension over the years. It didn't hurt to do some moon lighting, and in this business, the payoffs were high.
The card was missing. That's what Agent Maddox reported to Jack the day after his talk with Sydney. The flowers were still on the grave but the card wasn't. Someone took it. Maddox was certain it couldn't have flown away with the wind. Someone had come to the cemetery after Sydney and after the CIA agents.
Someone else other than the CIA was following Sydney. The question is, did she know it or not? It added up. Her answer hadn't satisfied him, it just didn't seem realistic. His theory was much more plausible. Really, why leave a message on a tombstone? It was a drop. Someone had picked it up. Jack needed to get that someone because Sydney would give him nothing. He was going to find that person and make her talk.
Sitting in his car, Jack Bristow was observing Agent Maddox and his colleague observing Sydney's car while she was attending her classes. Another team was inside with her, following her from room to room as discreetly as they could.
His gaze left the blue sedan to search the premises for another watcher. If Jack were looking for a professional, the person wouldn't be easy to find. He, or she, would probably act casually and blend in. However, Jack was smart, and experienced too. He himself had done this kind of work so he knew how those people reasoned. He knew the tricks to hide in plain sight, to be close to your mark without being noticed.
He proceeded to profile the person he was looking for. Sydney was a student. She was probably followed through her campus. Jack decided he was looking for a young woman in her twenties, pretty but not stunning. Pretty would allow her to go wherever she wanted without being questioned. She would stand out if stunning and people would remember her. She must possess a way of transportation, which didn't help Jack, as every student owned a car or a bike.
It struck Jack then, that despite their incompetence, the agents would have noticed a car following their mark all day. Even if the person had changed car, they would have seen and memorized the diver's face. His agents were on the look out for a suspect car, not a suspect motorbike. He contacted Maddox and ordered his team to run a check on all the motorcycles. The agent seemed annoyed, but didn't protest. He was talking to Jack Bristow.
One hour later, Maddox came to sit in his car, his laptop in hand.
"We found something, Sir."
"What is it?"
"Most of the vehicles we checked belong to professors or students. Actually, all their owners have a legit reason to be parked here."
"So what did you find?" Grumbled Jack, impatient.
"Three of the owners are students who registered within a month. One particular one got my attention. Chloé Sullivan. She moved here from New York one week ago. She's studying for a Bachelor’s degree in Literature.
"It's her," firmly declared Jack. "Apprehend her discreetly. If she gets away, consider yourselves unemployed." He left the agent here and went to the office. He had some research to do. He wanted to know everything about this Chloé Sullivan before she was brought in. It was easier to interrogate someone you knew. You got more answers out of them and you could tell if they were telling the truth or not.
"Chloé Sullivan?"
The young woman turned around and found herself face to face with two men dressed in dark suits. She saw another one come behind her. She was trapped. She was not going anywhere but she could still pretend she didn't know why they were here.
"Yes? Who are you?"
"You're under arrest."
"Why? What for?"
"Please follow us quietly."
She complied and they put her in a black SUV. After a thirty-minute drive during which every occupant of the vehicle remained silent, the SUV entered an official looking government building. There were flags in the front entrance and a giant sign on the pavement. They took her to a guarded side entrance and from there to what she assumed was an interrogation room. She hoped her employer would get wind of her arrest and have time to run.
A salt and pepper haired man entered after them and motioned for the others to leave. She recognised him as Jack Bristow, a CIA agent. Her employer had told her not to get too close to the man while following the young girl, his daughter. The situation couldn't be any worse. She was so screwed.
"Whom are you working for?" It was the first thing out of Bristow's mouth.
Chloé sighed, expecting this line of questioning. She would have to answer, eventually. Derevko had told her what would happen if she were caught. They would get everything they wanted out of her, by whatever means they deemed necessary. She had to stall Bristow as long as possible, to give Derevko a chance to leave. Once the woman was out of the US, it wouldn't matter if they knew it was Derevko, who had hired Chloé to keep an eye on the girl. It wouldn't matter because by that time, Irina Derevko wouldn't exist anymore.
"Someone paid you to follow Sydney Bristow, I want to know who."
"The name sounds familiar, I think she's attending a few classes with me but I never spoke to her," replied Chloé, annoyed.
"I'm sure you didn't. We know you've been following her every move since she was released," continued the man.
"I don't know what you are talking about." It was the truth. What was he talking about release? She had only been there for a week. She had seen bruises on Sydney's face, but her employer never mentioned anything prior to when she had arrived.
"Yes?"
"It’s I. The biker was apprehended."
“How long ago?"
"One hour."
"Thank you."
Irina hung up, livid. Time was running out.
TBC
pasta_sauce385
Cadet
good update.....Jack caught the biker girl...interesting development
