You may want to read Deadfall before you read this. ( Its in three parts and may answer questions you have if you read this first.) This story is a little more romantic, dealing with our main players: Jack and Irina, Sydney and Michael. Love is the real theme here: both couples are dealing with their reality and what might be.These characters are the property of JJ Abrams.
COME AWAY WITH ME
Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song
Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can’t tempt us
With their lives
I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee high
So won’t you try to come
Come away with me and we’ll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I’ll never stop loving you
And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I’m safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me
Norah Jones from her 5 Grammy Award Album, “Come Away With Me”
Prologue
The police car was cruising the streets of Santa Monica when the APB was broadcast to all on duty.
“Be on the lookout for a black Lincoln sedan, a 2002 model and has government license plate. Report immediately when you see it. Do not try to interfere. The Feds want one of the occupants who has been kidnapped. Do not try to stop this vehicle.”
“Damn!” The driver saw the car turn onto the pier. Steadying the wheel, he turned on his radio. The Lincoln was speeding down the pier heading for the end at an increasing high rate of speed.
“What the hell is he doing that for?” yelled the cop. “I’ve spotted the Lincoln and its heading for the end of the pier.”
“Say again.”
“He’s heading…” The cop stared in astonishment. “The crazy Son of a b---h, he just crashed through the railing and has gone over.”
COME AWAY WITH ME
Los Angeles
Rick listened in astonishment. Then raced over to where Kendall was seated. “Sir!”
“Yes?”
“The Lincoln has gone off the Santa Monica Pier, crashed into the ocean.”
Kendall’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Police radio report. Just picked it up.”
Kendall looked around the office. “Jack not back yet?”
“No sir, he was assisting the sweeper crew.”
“Don’t tell him until we can confirm anything. Notify the police department we’re sending a team out to help. Get Kennedy Spears on the phone. I want to talk to him.”
Moments later, Kendall picked up his phone. “Ken? Yes, I have a job for you and your crew. Get to the Santa Monica pier immediately. A car went over the side, probably carrying our prisoner, Derevko. What? Yes! But hurry.” He hung up, thinking about that day months ago when Sydney Bristow had run her car off a pier into the harbor.
Minutes later two more police cars and a black unmarked SUV pulled into the pier area and up to the end where there was a large gash in the wooden structure which had been a fence. The two men in the black SUV were getting scuba equipment ready. Wet suits were pulled on and then their tanks. A minute later they dropped feet first into the ocean below. Overhead a helicopter on loan from LAPD dropped down close using its powerful lights to penetrate the water. The divers were seen going down to the bottom of the bay.
Officers stood at the railing watching, waiting. No one spoke. It was the first time in their memory that a car had gone through the fencing into the ocean. They peered down and could barely see a dark spot that probably meant the car. The divers were swimming around it. A small boat motored up to a spot over the car.
Another car drove up and two men got out. One held up some ID that was acknowledged by the cops. He was identified as Asst. Director Kendall of the FBI.
“Did they find them?”
The men at the railing shook their heads, pointing. The divers were talking to the driver of the boat, shaking their heads. No one was in the car. It was empty, but the door on the driver’s side had been open.
Irina stood looking at Sydney, who was asleep now. She checked the clock. It had been thirty minutes since Boris had left them off at the apartment house. He told her he ought to be back within the hour if not sooner. She picked up a satellite phone that Boris had told her was safe to use. Staring down at her daughter, she pushed in the number for her contact in Paris.
The door opened as she finished the call. “Everything go all right?” she asked.
“All is well. They will be busy searching the ocean for a couple of hours or perhaps more for the occupants. You will be safe to go.” Boris said.
She nodded. “Call the airport and have them get my plane ready. Get Franklin too. I’ll use him as the pilot on this trip.”
“Yes, Irina.”
Los Angeles
Vaughn was in bed when the call came through from Weiss. “Yeah?”
“Michael, wake up. Sydney’s disappeared.”
“What? I thought she went away a few days with Francie?” Vaughn had just returned from Langley.
“Well, so did everyone else.” He answered. “Jack and Irina were found by Dixon and brought back, fairly unharmed, just a little worse for the wear. They spent two nights out in the “wilds”. Then he quickly explained about the fake Sydney and her subsequent death at the hands of Irina Derevko.”
“The hell you say,” Now he was wide-awake.
“I’m not joking. Jack put Irina in what he thought was a CIA sedan with three U. S. Marshals. However, now they don’t know where she is either.”
Vaughn was fully awake. His heart was racing. Both Sydney and her mother were missing. ‘” Déjà vu”, he thought. “Does Jack know?”
“Yeah, about Irina, but he doesn’t know about Sydney. Has no idea. Too bad Irina killed the faux Sydney. I heard the place was a mess. That must have been some battle.”
“Any clue about Sydney.” Vaughn was not going to lose contact with the subject that most mattered to him.
“No, sorry. But if I hear anything I’ll call you.”
Vaughn sank back in his chair, emotionally exhausted. He and Sydney had had an argument before he left for Langley and now she was gone. It was a stupid, stupid fight! God, how he loved that woman! But she was so contrary at times, he wanted to – to what? Right now, he wanted to kiss her and tell her he was sorry, but he couldn’t. Did Sloane have her? His heart was pounding. His cell rang again.
“Vaughn!”
“Michael?”
Chills went thru him like ice picks. “Yes.” It was Irina Derevko.
“Sydney needs you.”
“Where are you?”
Irina smiled, “No, you come outside your apartment and talk to me the entire way down to the front of the building. I want to be sure you make no calls until you do.”
Michael ran down the stairs, the phone open. He wanted to know how Sydney was and what was wrong. Irina let him rattle on. He ran out the door and stood on the top step leading to the street.
“What now?
“Across the street.”
He looked. There was a bus stop with a bench. Two women sat on it, one had her arms about the other. Vaughn checked both ways, then ran across. He stopped in front of them, staring. Both looked terrible. Irina had cuts on her face and arms. Sydney just looked awful: her eyes were sunken into her head. Her cheeks were hollow and her breathing shallow. She looked gaunt.
“What happened?” he cried.
“Sloane’s had her for I don’t know how long. Michael,” she lifted her eyes to him, “she needs you. I’ve arranged for you to take her to Paris.” She handed him a slip of paper. “My contact there is waiting for you to call him when you arrive. He will give you keys to an apartment and for a car.” She coughed. “Sorry! There’s a plane waiting for you at Santa Monica airport. The pilot has all the instructions he needs and the necessary papers.”
“But why not take her to a hospital…” he watched the dark eyes lift from Sydney to him in anger.
“She’s been drugged with…” she pulled back the sleeve of Sydney’s jacket, showing him her arm…”heroin. She doesn’t need pity. She needs a man with strength and the will to love her while she goes through whatever withdrawals there will be. Why are you wasting time? Get some clothes, passport and your car and take her.”
She coughed again, “Let me have your cell. I need to call Jack.”
He tossed it and ran back across the street. He was back in 15 minutes, driving his car to the bus stop. Irina was still holding Sydney. She stood up, still holding her as he came around and opened the door. Together they put Sydney inside. He looked at Irina, smiled, then slid behind the driver’s seat and drove off.
Irina sat back down on the bench, shivering. She punched in some numbers Jack had given her earlier. She didn’t feel so good. That fight with the faux Sydney had done something.
“Jack? It’s me.” She coughed again. That one hurt. She looked at the nearby street sign. “I’m on a bench at the corner of 4th and Lincoln in Santa Monica. Come get me.” The thought of his arms holding her soon made the waiting worthwhile.
Paris
Grigor helped Michael up the stairs with Sydney. He was so solicitous that Michael wondered if he had ever met Syd before this time. Grigor took a key and opened the door to one of the apartments. Michael, who was carrying Sydney, stepped inside and looked about in mild astonishment. Outside it seemed so ordinary, but inside…he looked at Grigor.
“Whose apartment is this?” He asked.
“Irina’s! She owns the building.” He answered. “Let me go get you some supplies: coffee and tea are here, but nothing else.” His English was not very good, but Michael did understand enough to nod.
“Will she be all right?” He looked at Sydney who seemed very sick.
“I hope so. Irina wanted me to take care of her.”
“Not the hospital?”
Michael shook his head, “Too many questions would be asked.”
He seemed to accept what was said. He left without another word.
Michael carried her into the bedroom.
He put her down in the bed. It had been a long trip, but she had been unconscious for most of it. He leaned down, looking at her once lovely face, now gaunt and sallow. It would take time, but then, for her, that was what he would give. He kissed her gently on the lips. “Oh darling, I am so sorry.” He held her hand and kissed it, “if you can hear me, know that I love you deeply. If Sloane did this, I promise, I will punish him dearly.” He kissed her forehead.
She stirred. Her eyes opened, focusing slowly on his face. “Michael?”She smiled. “What happened? How did you find me?”
“Darling, there will be plenty of time for that. First, we must get you well.” He began undressing her. “You are going to need a lot of rest.” He finished by taking off her bra. She must have lost ten pounds. The finely tuned body had the look of someone who had been starved.
“Yes.” She allowed him to pull the covers over her. She was shivering.
He walked to the closet, then the amoire. He finally found a light- weight robe. He put it on a chair near by. Sydney had fallen asleep. He wouldn’t disturb her.
Los Angeles
“Irina, what’s wrong with you?” Jack had put her in the car. She was shaking with fatigue and pain. By the looks of Sydney’s apartment, it had been quite a fight. They were going back to the op center.
“I’ll be all right. I just need some sleep.” Suddenly she coughed and felt a pain in her chest.
He reached over, touching her forehead. It was hot. She was running a temperature. He made up his mind. “We’re going to the nearest hospital.” She didn’t protest. Minutes later he was at St. John’s Medical Center.
She struggled to sit up, but couldn’t. She had become weak and coughed again. He left the car immediately, running across the parking lot to the ER. Two men with a gurney came out. Jack was following. They carefully lifted Irina out onto the gurney.
Jack looked concerned. He walked beside them as they moved her into an exam room. A young resident doctor came in and began an examination. He ordered blood work and a chest x-ray.
“What’s your diagnosis?”
“Looks like pneumonia. And what are these cuts?” He pointed to her face and arms. “And there’s some extensive bruising.”
Jack took out his wallet and flipped it open to the badge. “It’s all right, I didn’t beat her up!”
The doctor flushed. “Sorry. Abuse is a reportable diagnosis. We’re mandated by law.”
“Yes, I realize that. Let me call my office and have you speak to the man in charge. By the way, did you say she would need to be hospitalized and for how long?”
“Probably a week. We need to start antibiotics and get the fever down.”
“Can she be treated elsewhere?”
“A hospital would be the place of choice.”
Jack nodded and pulled out his cell, punched in the numbers. He walked away, talking to Kendall. He explained what had happened and that he needed authorization to leave Irina here. The young doctor meanwhile had the nurse with him removed the rest of Irina’s clothes. He finished the examination and turned to Jack who was walking back to the table.
“What the devil happened to her?”
“Doctor, it’s all right. She was in a fight. She is a prisoner of the U.S. Government. I didn’t do this. You are authorized to put her in the hospital for a period of five days.” He handed him his card. “The assistant director of the FBI will be here shortly to fill out the necessary papers. Now, could we get her to a room?”
He held her hand as they rolled her upstairs to a private room. He stood by, watching them put her under an oxygen tent and set up monitoring equipment.
Paris
It took two days for Sydney to stop shaking and shivering. The withdrawal had been awful for Michael to watch. He loved her so much that it was torture for him. He spent hours holding her. He hand fed her soup and food that Grigor had cooked for them. Michael told him he was afraid to leave Sydney alone for any length of time and that was when Grigor said he could do some cooking.
He was so upset by the sight of Sydney that Michael had to ask him, “Do you know her?”
Grigor smiled. “Da, she is Irina’s daughter! I meet her two, maybe three times.”
It was five days before Sydney began to rally. Michael took her out for walks: first, short ones, around the block and back, then, longer walks along the river Seine and back. Two or three times a day he would have her do exercises to begin toning her body back to what it had been before she had fallen into the hands of Sloane. He had not asked her to tell him anything. He was only happy to have her back and getting well.
On the fifth day, he took her out on a picnic. They drove out of Paris into the countryside. He found a spot he had been to before, long before Sydney. He spread for tablecloth, laid out the food and poured them each a glass of wine. The sun was hot and there was only a hint of a breeze, a perfectly beautiful day.
He sat looking at her. Her cheeks were pink. She wore her long hair in a pony tail. Her lips were full and vibrant with the color of red. She had very little in the way of clothes, so he had taken her shopping the day before. She had picked out some jeans, a tee, jacket and running shoes. She lay with her head in his lap.
He leaned his head down and kissed her lightly. “Sydney, I do love you with all my heart.”
She sighed, looking up at him. “Me too.” She turned her head, looking at the fields. “You haven’t told me how you found me?”
“I didn’t! Your mother did.”
“Mom?”
“Look, I am grateful that you are here and getting well, but,” he kissed her again. “I don’t want to talk about her now.”
Sydney decided that this time she was not going to press a point. She loved him and she knew that it would take time for them to talk objectively about Irina Derevko. Besides, the day was so perfect, she didn’t want to start an argument.
Jack sat at Irina’s bedside. She was sleeping. He had gone to the op center as soon as they had her stabilized. Kendall had been to the hospital to satisfy the necessary paper work then returned to get Jack’s report. It was sketchy at best since Irina had not told him much.
“So that’s it. She somehow managed to get rid of Francie and shoot Sark?” Kendall looked a tiny bit incredulous. “How the hell did she do that being handcuffed?” He looked at Jack suspiciously.
“I’ll get you a full report as soon as she awakens.” Jack said.
“See that you do. In the meantime, lock-up that woman with these,” he handed Jack handcuffs.
“She has pneumonia, Kendall. I doubt she could swat a fly at this point”
“I’m aware of that. I just don’t want her wandering off on her own again. For God’s sake, she’s a prisoner. She’s wanted for spying and assassination. She may have struck a deal with the CIA, but I’m not sure it will hold up in court. So as long as she’s my responsibility, she’s cuffed!” He glared at Jack. “And I’ll be down after work to check on her and these…” he gestured at them.
Jack sighed and took them. He didn’t want to waste anymore time. He had to see her again. He couldn’t help himself.
He showed his badge to the marshal on duty and walked into the room. Irina was sleeping. He reached for her left wrist, cuffing it to the bed rail. He bent over her, studying her face. His heart raced. Damn her! He turned and sprawled in the chair by the bed, rubbing his eyes capturing the tears that tried to roll down his cheeks. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He thought he had gotten over her these past twenty years and now… He put his face into his hands again. What was it – this desire, this love for a woman who was so, so deadly, so treacherous?
He laughed softly. He supposed she might think the same thing about him. Was he a killer? Was he as ruthless as she? Maybe he was, after all, he too had many secrets. He wanted her. What a family: two CIA agents and a former KGB agent. Could anything be weirder? Poor Sydney. He shook his head. Add Michael into the family and…
Jack reached down with his left hand and picked up Irina’s. “How I wish you could come away with me, just the two of us. We could be together with nothing between us. No betrayal, no treachery, just us – a man and a woman.” He sat looking out the window, his thumb rubbing hers lightly and quietly listening to the hiss of the oxygen, the soft beeps of the heart monitors. What if she hadn’t been who she was? What if there had been no KGB? Would we have had more children? Would Sydney be in the CIA? He knew her opinion about that.
Absorbed with his thoughts, he didn’t notice her through the plastic cover of the oxygen tent. She kept quiet, watching, listening and thinking. “Sometimes, Irina,” she thought, “you are a fool with an emotional IQ of an idiot.” She closed her eyes again, feeling his hand on hers. Come away with me! Oh, how she wished she could. A tear rolled down her right cheek. It’s too late! There was too much at stake now.
Los Angeles
Vaughn and Sydney flew back from Paris on an Air France flight. Jack met them at the airport and drove them to Sydney’s apartment. It had been cleaned and re-decorated. Many of the broken items could not be replaced. Sydney was heart-broken about Francie. Jack told her they had her in custody at the Federal Prison in San Pedro.
“But she isn’t the Francie you know and loved.”
Sydney felt Michael’s arms hold her.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Back in her cell at the center. She got out of the hospital a week ago.”
“Hospital?” Both Michael and Sydney looked at him.
“Pneumonia. We had just spent three days in the Rockies, not very well equipped or attired. She was tired, cold and then faced your double in a fight that pretty well capped the experience. She’s much better now. I’m sure she’ll want to see you.”
The cell doors opened and closed behind them. Michael, his arm around Sydney’s waist, led her toward the window. Irina was sitting on the bunk reading. She looked up and smiled, then walked over to the window.
“Sydney!” She looked at Michael. “Agent Vaughn, how nice to see you both. I take it your vacation was pleasant.”
“Mom, you’re looking o.k. Dad said you were in the hospital.”
She nodded. “That was nothing. The question is are you O.K.?” She looked at Michael, who nodded.
“Yes, everything’s fine. Mom, “ she hesitated, “I want to thank you.”
“For what?”
“Paris in the springtime, Michael, the apartment, Grigor, everything – it was the best. Thank you for my life.”
Irina looked at her steadily. “I am your mother. I would do anything for you.”
”I know, Mom, I know.”