h34r: A lot has been mentioned on the show and off the show about why Irina Derevko is pursuing Rambaldi artifacts and manuscripts. The previous Season Finale story I posted, Double-cross, gave me the opportunity to get her out of prison. If we allow her to stay in prison, which she deserves given the charges she faces, we can’t continue a spy family adventure. So far, Irina has been an enigma to everyone. So I thought I would take the initiative and give my own spin on her particular quest.
Sometimes I get ideas from just a title that pops into my head. Then I’m off and running, pursuing the idea to its climax. Then too, sometimes the climax gives birth to another story. If you haven’t read Double-cross, I suggest you do so before reading this story. Be sure to track this, as I am posting it as it is edited.
By the way, there are TWO ENDINGS. Pick the one you like and let me know.
The characters belong to JJ Abrams.
So on with the story featuring most of them.
<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>CROSS-OVER</span>
CROSS-OVER: Genetics: An interchange of parts between two homologous chromosomes in meiosis: known also as recombination (an offspring exhibiting characteristics caused by such a rearrangement). Britannica World Language Dictionary.
Part I
Tuscany
To the west, the explosion ripped through the sky. The sun was in their eyes, blinding them to the details. Jack and Vaughn were stunned.
“Sydney! Oh my God,” screamed Vaughn.
Jack stared. “Irina,” he thought and his heart gave a lurch. “Sydney!” he said. “Hurry, get in the car.” He jumped in with Vaughn and the two agents and sped off to the west.
At the other end of the field, Sloane laughed gleefully. Mother and daughter killed in one blow. He didn’t care now. At least, he wouldn’t have to worry about Irina turning on him. He climbed into his car and his driver took off to the east.
Minutes before
The rotor blades kicked up dirt and dust, swirling around the helicopters and hiding what was happening. Sark helped Sydney into the closest helo, then Irina. Irina immediately straddled the prone, frightened Sydney and began unbuttoning the jacket. “Sydney, the keys!” Sydney indicated her back left pocket.
The helo lifted off. There was the sound of gunfire as both helicopters scattered shots to keep the two parties on the ground from responding.
Irina pulled the keys out and unlocked the handcuffs.
She leaned down again and shouted in Sydney’s ear. “Raise your arms over your head.”
Sydney did so as Sark grabbed her jacket collar and yanked it off. Irina sat on her daughter’s legs keeping her from moving. The coat came off easily and he tossed it over his head out the open doorway. Within three seconds there was an enormous explosion. Irina looked up at Sark, who was a little shaken by how close they had come to dying.
Then a screeching! Sark whirled in the doorway and stared out at the other helicopter in shock. The pilot was slumped over in his seat. It looked like he had been shot. The rear rotor blade were smoking and not spinning. It must have been damaged by the explosion. The helicopter was plunging sideways and down into a shallow valley where it hit sending a huge fireball and black smoke spiraling up into the air.
He leaned over to the pilot and told him to head north, then looked at Irina, shaking his head. .
Irina looked down at her daughter, who was sobbing. “Get up, Sydney!”
She rolled off her legs and gave her a hand. Sydney took it, still crying, more from relief than anything. Irina guided her to the bench seat and strapped her in safely.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God,” sobbed Sydney, leaning against her mother.
“Yes.” Irina held her daughter. She looked at Sark and motioned him to sit next to her. “Thank you.” He indicated the handcuffs she was still wearing. She turned and told him which pocket Jack had placed the keys in earlier. Sark unlocked and removed them.
He smiled grimly. He handed her a set of headphones with a microphone, which she put on her head. It was easier to communicate over the noise. “We do have some exciting moments, don’t we?”
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“Venice and the Marco Polo International Airport. Should take us about an hour. We’ll fly under radar.”
She nodded. “Our passports are on the plane?”
“Yes. Anatoliy picked them up from Grigor before leaving.” He looked at Sydney who seemed to be recovering. “She needs to know.”
Irina nodded. “When we get to Venice.”
Tuscany
Jack and Vaughn drove to the crest of a hill. Jack jumped out with the binoculars and swept the area. Then he spotted the billowing smoke beyond the next hill nearby. Indicating the direction, he jumped back inside. Vaughn was still in a state of shock. Jack took a cell phone from the driver and punched in some numbers. He got Rick, the op center’s top computer operator on the phone and asked for Kendall. Then he told the Assistant Director what had happened, about Sloane’s double-cross.
“We’re on our way to the accident site.”
“You mean your ex-wife is on the loose again?” Kendall was incredulous.
“I don’t know. We need to check out which helicopter crashed.”
“Sloane booby-trapped her, Sydney I mean?” Kendall said.
“Looks like it.” He was sweating. “I’ll call you as soon as we check out the site.”
The car swept over the hill and came to a stop. Jack looked around. Vaughn stood beside him. There was a lot of fire still enfolding the broken helo. It was obvious no one had escaped. Jack looked at the burning machine carefully. He could see only one body, the pilot’s, still strapped in his seat. The other one who had been riding shotgun was no where to be seen, but then it was possible he had time to leap out before it exploded. He sent one of the agents to see if he could find the other man.
Then Vaughn started running down the hill. He had spotted something. He bent down, picked up a stick and used it to poke at something. He lifted it with the stick and came back up to where Jack was standing.
“Sir, it’s a piece of cloth!”
Jack looked at it carefully. It was the color of the jacket Sydney had been wearing. He felt a chill. Was this all that was left of his beautiful daughter? He looked at the cloth more carefully. He could see no blood on either side of it. His heart gave a leap, maybe she wasn’t in the jacket when it exploded! If so, that meant Irina had somehow saved their daughter. He closed his eyes thankfully.
“Sir!” The other CIA agent, who had gotten out of the car and was standing nearby, pointed off to the north. He had a pair of binoculars in his hand. “I just spotted a tiny moving speck. It could be a helicopter. You want me to call Langley for a satellite chase?”
“Yes, and give them my authorization code.” He told the agent what it was. “And tell Langley to add any small jet planes leaving any airport north of Florence.” Looking through his binoculars, he wasn’t able to see the helicopter. It had disappeared.
Venice
Twilight had begun by the time they landed. The light was fading slowly in the west to a mellow buttercup color. Irina and Sydney stood near the customs shed for small plane arrival and departures. Sark had gone to get the satchel Anatoliy was bringing. Irina had her arm around Sydney’s waist. It was as if she didn’t want to let her go.
“Where are we going?” asked Sydney.
“Moscow.”
Sydney looked into her mother’s eyes and saw she was not going to change her mind. She said nothing.
Sark appeared carrying a small attaché case, which he handed to Irina. She opened it and took out three passports, giving one to Sark and one to Sydney. The other she put into her pocket. “Let’s go.” A half-hour later the fast little jet left Venice’s International Airport with the three. The passports were back in the attaché case.
Sydney took a deep breath before speaking to Irina. She had a hell of a lot of questions. “Mom, why can’t you let me go home?”
“Because I think I can keep you safer with me.” Irina leaned forward taking Sydney’s hand in hers. “There is something wrong at the CIA. Sloane has an agent inside, a mole. You are not safe until that one is eliminated.” She glanced at Sark. “And there are other considerations…”
Sark now stood behind Irina looking at Sydney with a smile on his face. He winked at her.
“Are you hitting on me?” Sydney said to him, grinning. After what he did on the helo for her, she had forgiven him for everything.
“Never again.” He said.
“Sydney,” Irina said quietly, “you need to know something now, before anything else is said.”
She look at both of them, answering, “He’s my brother, isn’t he?”
Irina nodded.
“I told you she was like a mother to me,” said Sark, grinning.
“When?” She asked Irina.
“I was a month or so pregnant when I ran in 1982. I was eight months along when the KGB released me. I was sent to Central City to teach. He was born there.”
Even though she had guessed, the verification by Irina still shocked Sydney. Implications were immense and questions, innumerable. ”But he has a British accent?”
Irina reached up and took Sark’s right hand in hers. “Your grandfather and I decided it would be best for him, in view of the KGB’s interest. Besides I knew he would get an excellent education if he were raised there. And it was close enough for me to see him as often as I could, which” she looked up him, “sometimes wasn’t enough.”
“And Dad doesn’t know, does he?” Sydney said.
Irina smiled sadly, “No, he doesn’t, at least not yet. But I think he will soon.”
**More tomorrow
Sometimes I get ideas from just a title that pops into my head. Then I’m off and running, pursuing the idea to its climax. Then too, sometimes the climax gives birth to another story. If you haven’t read Double-cross, I suggest you do so before reading this story. Be sure to track this, as I am posting it as it is edited.
By the way, there are TWO ENDINGS. Pick the one you like and let me know.
The characters belong to JJ Abrams.
So on with the story featuring most of them.
<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>CROSS-OVER</span>
CROSS-OVER: Genetics: An interchange of parts between two homologous chromosomes in meiosis: known also as recombination (an offspring exhibiting characteristics caused by such a rearrangement). Britannica World Language Dictionary.
Part I
Tuscany
To the west, the explosion ripped through the sky. The sun was in their eyes, blinding them to the details. Jack and Vaughn were stunned.
“Sydney! Oh my God,” screamed Vaughn.
Jack stared. “Irina,” he thought and his heart gave a lurch. “Sydney!” he said. “Hurry, get in the car.” He jumped in with Vaughn and the two agents and sped off to the west.
At the other end of the field, Sloane laughed gleefully. Mother and daughter killed in one blow. He didn’t care now. At least, he wouldn’t have to worry about Irina turning on him. He climbed into his car and his driver took off to the east.
Minutes before
The rotor blades kicked up dirt and dust, swirling around the helicopters and hiding what was happening. Sark helped Sydney into the closest helo, then Irina. Irina immediately straddled the prone, frightened Sydney and began unbuttoning the jacket. “Sydney, the keys!” Sydney indicated her back left pocket.
The helo lifted off. There was the sound of gunfire as both helicopters scattered shots to keep the two parties on the ground from responding.
Irina pulled the keys out and unlocked the handcuffs.
She leaned down again and shouted in Sydney’s ear. “Raise your arms over your head.”
Sydney did so as Sark grabbed her jacket collar and yanked it off. Irina sat on her daughter’s legs keeping her from moving. The coat came off easily and he tossed it over his head out the open doorway. Within three seconds there was an enormous explosion. Irina looked up at Sark, who was a little shaken by how close they had come to dying.
Then a screeching! Sark whirled in the doorway and stared out at the other helicopter in shock. The pilot was slumped over in his seat. It looked like he had been shot. The rear rotor blade were smoking and not spinning. It must have been damaged by the explosion. The helicopter was plunging sideways and down into a shallow valley where it hit sending a huge fireball and black smoke spiraling up into the air.
He leaned over to the pilot and told him to head north, then looked at Irina, shaking his head. .
Irina looked down at her daughter, who was sobbing. “Get up, Sydney!”
She rolled off her legs and gave her a hand. Sydney took it, still crying, more from relief than anything. Irina guided her to the bench seat and strapped her in safely.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God,” sobbed Sydney, leaning against her mother.
“Yes.” Irina held her daughter. She looked at Sark and motioned him to sit next to her. “Thank you.” He indicated the handcuffs she was still wearing. She turned and told him which pocket Jack had placed the keys in earlier. Sark unlocked and removed them.
He smiled grimly. He handed her a set of headphones with a microphone, which she put on her head. It was easier to communicate over the noise. “We do have some exciting moments, don’t we?”
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“Venice and the Marco Polo International Airport. Should take us about an hour. We’ll fly under radar.”
She nodded. “Our passports are on the plane?”
“Yes. Anatoliy picked them up from Grigor before leaving.” He looked at Sydney who seemed to be recovering. “She needs to know.”
Irina nodded. “When we get to Venice.”
Tuscany
Jack and Vaughn drove to the crest of a hill. Jack jumped out with the binoculars and swept the area. Then he spotted the billowing smoke beyond the next hill nearby. Indicating the direction, he jumped back inside. Vaughn was still in a state of shock. Jack took a cell phone from the driver and punched in some numbers. He got Rick, the op center’s top computer operator on the phone and asked for Kendall. Then he told the Assistant Director what had happened, about Sloane’s double-cross.
“We’re on our way to the accident site.”
“You mean your ex-wife is on the loose again?” Kendall was incredulous.
“I don’t know. We need to check out which helicopter crashed.”
“Sloane booby-trapped her, Sydney I mean?” Kendall said.
“Looks like it.” He was sweating. “I’ll call you as soon as we check out the site.”
The car swept over the hill and came to a stop. Jack looked around. Vaughn stood beside him. There was a lot of fire still enfolding the broken helo. It was obvious no one had escaped. Jack looked at the burning machine carefully. He could see only one body, the pilot’s, still strapped in his seat. The other one who had been riding shotgun was no where to be seen, but then it was possible he had time to leap out before it exploded. He sent one of the agents to see if he could find the other man.
Then Vaughn started running down the hill. He had spotted something. He bent down, picked up a stick and used it to poke at something. He lifted it with the stick and came back up to where Jack was standing.
“Sir, it’s a piece of cloth!”
Jack looked at it carefully. It was the color of the jacket Sydney had been wearing. He felt a chill. Was this all that was left of his beautiful daughter? He looked at the cloth more carefully. He could see no blood on either side of it. His heart gave a leap, maybe she wasn’t in the jacket when it exploded! If so, that meant Irina had somehow saved their daughter. He closed his eyes thankfully.
“Sir!” The other CIA agent, who had gotten out of the car and was standing nearby, pointed off to the north. He had a pair of binoculars in his hand. “I just spotted a tiny moving speck. It could be a helicopter. You want me to call Langley for a satellite chase?”
“Yes, and give them my authorization code.” He told the agent what it was. “And tell Langley to add any small jet planes leaving any airport north of Florence.” Looking through his binoculars, he wasn’t able to see the helicopter. It had disappeared.
Venice
Twilight had begun by the time they landed. The light was fading slowly in the west to a mellow buttercup color. Irina and Sydney stood near the customs shed for small plane arrival and departures. Sark had gone to get the satchel Anatoliy was bringing. Irina had her arm around Sydney’s waist. It was as if she didn’t want to let her go.
“Where are we going?” asked Sydney.
“Moscow.”
Sydney looked into her mother’s eyes and saw she was not going to change her mind. She said nothing.
Sark appeared carrying a small attaché case, which he handed to Irina. She opened it and took out three passports, giving one to Sark and one to Sydney. The other she put into her pocket. “Let’s go.” A half-hour later the fast little jet left Venice’s International Airport with the three. The passports were back in the attaché case.
Sydney took a deep breath before speaking to Irina. She had a hell of a lot of questions. “Mom, why can’t you let me go home?”
“Because I think I can keep you safer with me.” Irina leaned forward taking Sydney’s hand in hers. “There is something wrong at the CIA. Sloane has an agent inside, a mole. You are not safe until that one is eliminated.” She glanced at Sark. “And there are other considerations…”
Sark now stood behind Irina looking at Sydney with a smile on his face. He winked at her.
“Are you hitting on me?” Sydney said to him, grinning. After what he did on the helo for her, she had forgiven him for everything.
“Never again.” He said.
“Sydney,” Irina said quietly, “you need to know something now, before anything else is said.”
She look at both of them, answering, “He’s my brother, isn’t he?”
Irina nodded.
“I told you she was like a mother to me,” said Sark, grinning.
“When?” She asked Irina.
“I was a month or so pregnant when I ran in 1982. I was eight months along when the KGB released me. I was sent to Central City to teach. He was born there.”
Even though she had guessed, the verification by Irina still shocked Sydney. Implications were immense and questions, innumerable. ”But he has a British accent?”
Irina reached up and took Sark’s right hand in hers. “Your grandfather and I decided it would be best for him, in view of the KGB’s interest. Besides I knew he would get an excellent education if he were raised there. And it was close enough for me to see him as often as I could, which” she looked up him, “sometimes wasn’t enough.”
“And Dad doesn’t know, does he?” Sydney said.
Irina smiled sadly, “No, he doesn’t, at least not yet. But I think he will soon.”
**More tomorrow