I said Part 1, but the entire story is on this thread. NOTHING IS AS IT SEEMS, especially on Alias Let’s pretend that the season finale takes place sometime after Sydney shoots her Mom, who dropped the genetic disk. Of course other elements mentioned in the shows Truth Takes Time and Endgame are alluded to; all of which add to the smashing climax. Hope you like this SEASON FINALE…Feedback please. Thank you JJ Abrams for a terrific second season, especially Irina. DOUBLE CROSS Chapter 1 Irina The night was quiet. Cars seemed distant. The area was almost deserted. The Hospital de Madrid had a few lights on here and there, but for the most part, everyone was asleep. There were only forty rooms for patients, most of them were private. The Hospital was privately owned. It was well known only the rich could afford to be sick there. On the 2nd floor in one such room, a woman lay sleeping. She had been there two days. Surgery had been performed earlier in the day and she was recovering from the anesthetic. Outside on a couch nearby waited a young man who was reading. Sark was tired. It had been a grueling journey. They had dropped Sloane off in Florence. Irina, although in a lot of pain, had insisted he remain behind to see if he could get Emily’s body. Then Irina and Sark took Sloane’s private plane to Madrid. “Who shot you?” He had asked earlier. “Sydney!” She winced as he gently touched her other arm. “She could have killed you!” “Yes, but didn’t!” She remembered similar circumstances in Taipei and Barcelona. “—but didn’t,” she repeated. “Listen,” he said, “you have to get the arm fixed. It needs treatment.” “Take me to Hospital de Madrid.” She gave him the address, and then leaned back. And that was where Irina Derevko was now, in a room, down the hall, where she was sleeping off the anesthetic. The doctor explained he only needed to do a debridement and curettage of the wound. He would have to make sure no vital tendons were affected. It was an exploratory as well as cleansing of the wound. The doctor could not tell him how long it would take or how long Irina would be unconscious. Sark rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Even as young as he was, he couldn’t go forever without some sleep. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Sleep came stealthily and without warning. Sydney A black SUV pulled into the shadows of the building. Three men and a woman stepped out. The woman, young, tall and extremely good looking wore a skirt and jacket. Her purse, shoes and other accessories gave her the appearance of wealth. The three men wore black outfits. The four entered the hospital, but only the young woman approached the night nurse’s desk. “Buenas noches,” said the young woman to the nurse. “Buenas noches, senorita.” “I am looking for my mother,” she smiled. “I believe she was brought in yesterday with some sort of problem with her arm. The man I spoke to did not give me any details.” “Si, Senorita,” she answered. “The Senora is in Room 201.” Sydney smiled. “I would like to see her. I know it is late, but I have come a long way. I just want to see if she is all right.” The nurse was used to odd requests by family members and had been instructed by the administrator to always accede to family requests. The bill always reflected the family relation charges. “Up the stairs and turn to your left. She is in a corner room.” “Muchas gracias,” Sydney flashed her a big smile. The three men who had heard the instructions, walked up the stairs ahead of Sydney. Before she reached the top, one of them held up his hand for her to stop as he pointed to the right. Sydney looked. Sark! He seemed asleep, partially slumped over on the couch. She nodded and pointed to 201. She crossed the hall with two of the men. The third was, by hand signal, told to watch Sark. He had his gun out and ready. Inside the room, Sydney approached the bed. Irina was still unconscious. Sydney looked at the monitor. Everything was normal. There was an IV bag hanging on a stand by the bed. Irina had a needle shunt in her arm. Carefully, Sydney removed the needle. She fished in her jacket and took out another syringe, removed the needle guard, and fitted it into the shunt on her mother’s arm. Then she pushed the plunger down. Irina Derevko would not wake up for another 24 hours. Minutes later, the three men and Sydney, drove away with their new passenger. Sydney said, “We have her.” She glanced at her watch. “We should be there in 14 hours.” Jack Jack sat in Kendall’s office. “I think she should go to the Federal Prison. They can interrogate her there.” Kendall said. “What about Camp Harris for unrestricted interrogation?” Jack asked. “We got nothing from her the last time.” Kendall remembered the report he had gotten from the chief interrogator, Mark Hanson. “It might be a little different now. She’s been shot. She’s been heavily sedated. We might have a shot at some info before she’s entirely cognizant of where she is or what is happening.” Jack looked at Kendall stiffly. Kendall’s eyes narrowed, “You can’t be there.” “Why not?” “Because you’re intimately involved with that woman.” He held up his hand before Jack could say anything. “Please don’t think me stupid! I know exactly how you put the passive tracker in her—or could!” “She betrayed us again! Are you suggesting I should be anything less than angry!” “No, but I can’t have this prisoner put in harms way now. If she knows where Arvin Sloane is and we can get her to talk…” He glared at Jack. “We’ll let the chief interrogator have another crack at it for a week.” Hanson Mark Hanson, the CIA’s chief interrogator, was in his office when a young woman entered, flashing her badge, indicating she was an agent. She reached for his hand, shaking it. “Hi, I’m Sydney Bristow.” “Nice to meet you. I know your… parents.” “Do you?” She smiled. “I brought my mother back for interrogation.” He stared. “Irina Derevko? Here? Where is she?” “Outside, still drugged from what I gave her 16 hours ago in Madrid at the hospital. She had surgery. She probably will be out another eight hours. Kendall said to bring her here. He said he would brief you. Where do you want her?” Sydney’s voice was so impersonal that he found it hard to believe she was talking about her own mother. He stood up. “We don’t have hospital facilities. What is the extent of the wound?” “I shot her in the left arm.” He looked at her, surprised. “Well…uh…if she’s had surgery, we’ll put her in a regular cell.” Mark walked out of his office and found two men carrying a stretcher. Irina Derevko was strapped down on it. She was unconscious. Mark motioned them to follow. Sydney walked with them. At the cell door, Mark gestured to the bunk. The two men, with Sydney helping, put Irina into the bunk. Sydney checked the bandage on the arm. It was dry and there was only a spot or two of blood that had dried. The wound looked clean. “I think whoever did the surgery knew what he was doing,” she said looking at Hanson. “I would say you could interrogate without worry.” She waited for the two men with the empty stretcher to leave. Hanson closed the door. “I’ll call Kendall right away.” He said. “Do you want to be informed?” She nodded, handing him a card. “This is my private cell. I would appreciate a call personally after you report to Kendall.” He smiled. “I’ll do that. Oh, she’s going to need clothes.” “They’ll be here before she wakes up.” Hanson Mark walked into his office carrying a cup of coffee. It was morning. He turned on the monitor. The camera was located in the cellblock. He looked at the scene before him. Irina Derevko was still in the bunk, sleeping. Mark looked at his watch, thinking she ought to be stirring. As if on cue, Irina began moving her legs. Irina Irina felt awful. She was coming out of a long, long dream. She had wanted to leave it, but couldn’t. She stretched her legs. Then she opened her eyes. The view was not familiar…and yet was… She closed her eyes thinking she was dreaming again. She reached out with her right hand touching the wall beside her. She turned her head, looking at the wall. There had been no wall when she was in her room, at least not this close. She was beginning to feel panic rise inside her mind and body. Something was very wrong. She pushed herself up, wincing at the pain she felt in the left arm. She looked around, her mouth open in shock…then dismay. She had been here before! She was in the CIA Interrogation camp in the California desert, near Los Angeles. Her head was reeling. She fell back onto the pillow, trying to figure out what had happened. She looked at her left arm. There was a bandage on it and it looked new. That meant the surgery had been done. Something happened after that! It meant the CIA had tracked her. How? They had extracted her from the hospital and now she was here! What happened to Sark? She turned her head as a door opened. A man approached and he wasn’t smiling. It was the chief interrogator. She was not going to have a good day. “There are clothes on the chair. Put them on immediately and don’t argue. If you don’t have them on by the time I get back, I will have two men do it. I’ll be back with some food and water.” He turned and left. Irina struggled into the clothes left for her. The CIA had no sense of fashion, she thought wryly. They were the same as her costume while at the op center: cropped blue jeans, black tee and a lightweight blue jacket. Even the shoes were the same. The outer door opened again. The interrogator opened the cell door and left a tray on the chair, saying nothing. Irina shivered. She put the tray on her bed. It smelled wonderful, even though only hot oatmeal. She took the bottled water and drank it all first to quench her terrible thirst. She took her time, though, to eat. It had been a long time and she didn’t want to get sick by eating too fast. Two men entered the cellblock when she had finished. They said nothing, but opened the door motioning her out. They put handcuffs on her, then ankle cuffs with a tether chain. She was then led down the hall to a room she was familiar with from the last time. They settled her into a chair. The interrogation was about to begin. ‘WHERE IS ARVIN SLOANE?” The voice was loud, harsh and there was a screeching sound from the microphone. Irina shouted almost instantaneously, “Florence!” Then she leaned forward trying to get away from the noise. Her heart was pounding. The screeching stopped, the voice went away and there was a deafening silence. She shuddered, wanting to rub her ears, but couldn’t. They had chained her down to the chair so she couldn’t move. Irina took a deep breath and shook her head. That was the first time she had given them any information. She was mad at herself. No matter, though, Arvin was probably far away by this time. She would have to be more careful. Sydney Five days later at the op center Sydney placed a call to Camp Harris. Mark Hanson told her that her mother had said nothing since giving the place Arvin Sloane could be found. “She has put herself into an almost comatose state. She did it the last time.” “How did you get the information about Sloane? And why can’t you do it again?” “Tried!” He paused. “I’ve never had a prisoner I couldn’t get information from until her. Sometime, somewhere, she was interrogated rather brutally I think and must have trained herself to go away somewhere in her mind.” He sighed. “I doubt we will get any more information.” “Have you tried everything?” “We haven’t used brute force,” he said, “but I don’t think that will work either.” Sydney was impressed with her Mother’s ability to absent herself from the scene. What was that thing she did—autocircadian meditation? She thought about it. “Can I come out there?” “Sure. When can I expect you?” She told him and hung up. She stood up from her desk and looked around for her father. He wasn’t on the floor. Vaughn was in Langley, pleading his case before his superiors. He didn’t want her to come, just be there for him here. Marshall was at his desk. “Marshall,” she said, “I meant to ask you how you located my mother so quickly?” He grinned at her, blushing a little. “Previous intel indicated she had contacts in several cities in Europe. Given she was shot, I figured she had to go somewhere in that general area.” He blushed again. “So I ran an analysis of the types of hospitals versus your mother’s preferences. Then I checked the data bases and voila, I found her. Everyone uses computers and it’s a great boon to me. It also helped that she used the name Laura Bristow.” Sydney blinked in astonishment. “Well thanks!” She flashed him a big smile. “Are you looking for Sloane?” “We’re trying.” Irina and Sydney An hour and a half later Sydney entered Camp Harris. She put on her badge before entering. Mark met her near the door. He walked her down the hall to the interrogation rooms. “If you have any ideas for me, I’d be happy to hear them.” “Can I talk to her?” “Why don’t you take a look? If you can get through to her…” he shrugged. They entered a small room with a window looking into another room. Irina sat chained to the chair. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were moving ever so slightly. She was gaunt, looking much older than Sydney remembered. “What is she saying?” “I think she’s saying some kind of mantra, but we can’t make out what it is. I think she’s speaking Russian.” “Can I hear?” Sydney, an accomplished linguist, spoke excellent Russian. ”You’ll have to go into the room.” She nodded. He opened the door. “Raise your hand when you want out.” Sydney entered the room. The door shut silently behind her. She stood watching Irina. Her eyes were closed, but her lips stopped moving. There was no sound in the room. Sydney felt her heart pounding. “Sydney, was it you?” Irina’s voice seemed to echo. Somehow she had heard her daughter come into the room. “Yes, Mom, it was me.” “Good job!” She gave a short familiar laugh. She opened her eyes and looked at Sydney. “Are you going to answer our questions?” Irina shook her head. “No, I can’t!” “Then you’ll probably be taken to the federal prison, tried and executed.” Sydney leaned down, touching Irina’s cheek and looked into the dark eyes which were almost the color of her own. “I want you to know something.” Irina looked at her not breathing. “I was beginning to love you as my Mom. I had hoped we would become real friends in spite of your past. Then you betrayed us again, dad and me. Dad warned me once that you would gut me and you did. He is in worse shape than I am because of Panama. What happened there? He won’t talk about it.” Irina, tears filling her eyes, shook her head. “It’s between your father and me.” “Then you get what you deserve. I won’t be back, ever.” Sydney walked to the door, holding up her hand. “Sydney!” Irina’s voice was weak, raspy. Her daughter turned. “Be careful of Sloane. He will try to kill you.” “And I, him!” Sydney left the room without looking back. As soon as Hanson shut the door, she leaned against the wall crying. Hanson said nothing. He had heard everything. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle this. Finally, he said, “You going to be all right?” She shook her head. “No, probably not, at least for awhile.” PART 2 is being completed, will post soon.