Eighth Day – After Midnight
Jack shot up out of bed. Irina woke him with an animal scream. He switched on the light. Irina was asleep, but in the throes of a nightmare. She lay on her stomach and her hands were gripping the edge of mattress with almost maniacal strength. She screamed again, her voice muffled against the sheet.
“Pazhaluysta, pazhaluysta…nyet, nyet...” She heaved, struggling in the dream. “Perestan’ mne jabat’ mozgi svojimi voprosami…” She screamed again. “Moya bog…nyet…”
Jack grabbed her, pulling her up into his arms, holding her tight. “Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, “sweetheart…please, darling, wake up, wake up….” She had been begging someone, probably an interrogator in Kashmir, not to mess her brain up with questions.
“Pazhaluysta, pazhaluysta!” Her voice seemed to soften as though she heard what he said to her.
“Ya tebyA lyublyU,” he whispered soothingly in her ear. “I love you. Ya tebyA lyublyU. I love you. Ya tebyA lyublyU. I love you.” He said it over and over. Her body shuddered and tears streamed down her face. Jack cradled her in his arms and rocked. “Irina, wake up…wake up.”
Her eyes opened to see him staring down at her. “Jack?” She looked around, confused as though she didn’t know where she was. “I had a nightmare, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” he brushed the tears away from her cheeks, “and by all that you said, a brutal one.” He looked at her. “What happened? Was it Kashmir?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she tried to move from his arms. She was still gripped by her dream and what she experienced in them. Jack held her, not allowing her to move.
“Irina, you should talk to someone, if only me.”
She reddened, glancing away, “I—I can’t. Let me go.” Tears filled her eyes again, spilling over onto her cheeks. She felt awful and sick to her stomach.
Jack gripped her wrist. “Stop it. You’re my wife. Let me help. I can’t if you won’t talk to me.”
Without warning, Irina pulled loose, rolled out of bed, and ran to the bathroom. Jack shoved the covers back as he heard her vomit. He ran inside the room to find her heaving again. When she finished, she leaned her head forward onto the edge of the seat, gasping.
Jack kneeled beside her. He had a washcloth in his hand, wiping her face. Sweat was visible on her upper body. “How often do you have this—this nightmare?”
“Less frequently now, but every once in awhile, it comes back.” She smiled weakly.
“Are you finished,” he asked.
“I think so.”
He pulled her up. “Do you want to shower?”
She nodded weakly, “I probably don’t smell so good.”
Jack held onto her, opened the door, and turned on the water. She was already naked, so he pushed her gently inside. A moment later, his pajama bottoms were off, and he too stepped inside. He took the washcloth and began soaping it. He kept the water temperature neither hot nor cold. He moved the washcloth back and forth over her body.
Pushing her out of the shower, he pulled the white bath sheet off its rack and enfolded her with it.
He turned her into him and finished toweling her body. He leaned down, “I do love you. I have never stopped, but you very nearly killed me and…”
She stopped him, her hand on his mouth. “I paid a heavy penalty, more than you can ever know. I too love you.” He believed truly.
“Stay with me. Stay with your family.” He led her toward the bed. “There have been too many lost years and there are times when I cannot bear to be alone. It’s only Sydney that keeps me sane.”
Irina stared at him. “Jack, ti nuzhna mne, I need you to be here—to know you are the rock I can come back to whenever necessary.”
“Sweetheart, stay, please…pazhaluysta…” He pulled her into bed, sitting and holding her.
She laid her head back against him. He could not see her eyes, but he wanted her to feel safe. “Remember when I told you I wanted to quit the CIA?’
“Yes…just before I…”
“I will quit now if that would mean you would do the same.”
“Oh Jack, I can’t…they’ll kill me! I shouldn’t even be here, you know that! We’d both have to disappear. The girls…even they wouldn’t be safe.”
“Irina, I could work something out.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Laskovaya moye, I cannot take the risk of something terrible happening to you or the girls.”
Jack sighed. He was all too aware of the danger. If the Russians thought Irina Derevko, a top agent of the SVR was not loyal, they would kill her or worse yet, they would kill the people who meant the most to her. He sighed again. Glancing down, he saw she was asleep. Gently, he slid down so her head was on the pillow. She would have to leave in the morning for the journey back.
Using his right index finger, he quietly traced her face and figure, as if hoping he would retain the image in his head.
Then, driven by desire, his hands were all over her, and his mouth, heating her blood, tripping her pulse. Irina was not fully awake yet.
“Ti nuzhna mne,” she murmured and slowly, she shifted her body under him. She sensed his smell, taste, and shape, and the need for him was heightened, even though she had almost fallen into a deep sleep. She sighed.
His fingers lightly stroked her soft, warm flesh. Her eyes opened languidly to see the outline of his head as he bent slowly down. His tongue asked and she permitted it to slide across her half-open mouth. His lips brushed hers; then she heard the erotic words close to her ear. “I want to be inside you. I need to carry the memory with me.”
Irina was aroused, still floating on a hazy cloud where pleasure was lazy and sweet.
“Irina,” he said her name softly, as his mouth ravished her and his hand slid down to cup the dark patch and the wet aching need.
He wanted her, but this moment played to sensation of heat, thundering blood. He rolled her and their limbs tangled. Irina ran her hands up and down his body thrilled by the muscle, angles, and smooth skin. He knew her wants and needs. He knew her as only the man who loves deeply could.
He was hungry for her. He’d felt the need for her as she screamed in the midst of a nightmare he could not keep her safe from. Still, just the warm comfort of her beside him was and had been a memory he’d never forgotten nor wanted to forget. Just to touch her and see her face was all he needed.
She had become his constant. She was the lynchpin now that he wanted his life to revolve around. Deep in his mind, he knew that would not happen…but if he planned carefully…
Her mouth was eager; her hands reached for him, gently squeezing. He knew their moods matched here and now.
Half-mad, Jack dragged her up. He could see her eyes, gleaming, focused on him as she locked her long legs around him, as her hips surged to take him in—into the wet heat. She watched him still as she clung to him, already coming as she surrounded him.
His breath caught in his throat and his heart jumped in after it.
He might have spoken, or tried, but she pulled him closer, took him deeper, and banding her arms around him used those strong narrow hips to drive him.
She gripped him while the hungry burning consumed them both. Fires burned as they both felt the explosion of their inner heat.
“F*uck! F*uck! Irina cried.
They slid down together, shuddering. When his head rested between her breasts, she closed her eyes again. “O grom i molniya!
“Guess you’re feeling better,” he said, laughing. “Thunder and lighting, eh?” He raised his head to look at her. She was crying.
“Oh Jack, I love you.”
He kissed her gently, looking into her dark eyes. “Lyublyu tebyA vsem sertsem, vsey dushoyu.” He kissed her again. “Rest, sweetheart. You have a long trip ahead of you.”
It was seven in the morning. There was fog and the day looked gloomy. Irina stood before the closet, containing only the red dress and red stilettos. She would love to have those shoes with her. They made her feel human. She carried nothing. She was dressed in the clothes she wore coming to see Sydney. Her heart felt constricted. She shut the door and turned, leaning against it.
Jack was downstairs fixing a light breakfast. He was going to drive her to the train station. She wanted to see Sydney again; hopefully Nadia would be there also, but if not…
“Jack,” she called…starting down the stairs…
The CIA agent sat next to the door, reading the morning newspaper. Jack walked up and introduced himself. “Is there anyone inside visiting?”
“No,” the agent answered.
“Good. My sister is leaving town and would like to see her niece one more time. Come with me. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
”My orders are to stay here.” He glanced at Jack.
“I know, but I don’t think anyone is going to be bothering my daughter. I called headquarters. You should be…” there was the sound of the cell phone ringing.
The agent answered, listened and nodded. “Very well. Thanks.” He looked at Jack.
“I’ve been ordered back to the office.”
Jack nodded, watching him disappear in the elevator. He whistled softly. Irina walked from around a corner where she’d been waiting. She entered the room. Jack took the chair vacated by the agent.
“Sydney,” Irina called softly. Her daughter looked so much better. She was thankful. “Sydney, it’s Mom.”
Her daughter slowly opened her eyes. She had taken a sleeping pill last night and was a bit drugged. She smiled when she saw Irina. “Mom!”
Irina leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks. “I have to go. Your father will keep me informed.”
“Oh no, Mom, please stay.”
“Ssh, ssh sweetheart. You know I can’t. I would if I could, please believe me.” Her right hand tucked a strand of her hair that had fallen across her face. “Promise me you will do everything you can to get well?”
“Of course,” Sydney gripped her mother’s hand. “I love you, Mom. Thanks for coming. I know you took a terrible chance.”
“I would do it for your father and your sister.” She rose up. “I’ve got to go.”
Sydney watched her mother leave the room, more tears welling up in her eyes.
Translations:
Pazhaluysta - Please
Perestan’ mne jabat’ mozgi svojimi voprosami - stop f*ucking my brain with your questions
Moya bog - my God
nyet - no
Ya tebyA lyublyU - I love you
ti nuzhna mne - I need you
Laskovaya moye - My sweet
Jack shot up out of bed. Irina woke him with an animal scream. He switched on the light. Irina was asleep, but in the throes of a nightmare. She lay on her stomach and her hands were gripping the edge of mattress with almost maniacal strength. She screamed again, her voice muffled against the sheet.
“Pazhaluysta, pazhaluysta…nyet, nyet...” She heaved, struggling in the dream. “Perestan’ mne jabat’ mozgi svojimi voprosami…” She screamed again. “Moya bog…nyet…”
Jack grabbed her, pulling her up into his arms, holding her tight. “Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, “sweetheart…please, darling, wake up, wake up….” She had been begging someone, probably an interrogator in Kashmir, not to mess her brain up with questions.
“Pazhaluysta, pazhaluysta!” Her voice seemed to soften as though she heard what he said to her.
“Ya tebyA lyublyU,” he whispered soothingly in her ear. “I love you. Ya tebyA lyublyU. I love you. Ya tebyA lyublyU. I love you.” He said it over and over. Her body shuddered and tears streamed down her face. Jack cradled her in his arms and rocked. “Irina, wake up…wake up.”
Her eyes opened to see him staring down at her. “Jack?” She looked around, confused as though she didn’t know where she was. “I had a nightmare, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” he brushed the tears away from her cheeks, “and by all that you said, a brutal one.” He looked at her. “What happened? Was it Kashmir?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she tried to move from his arms. She was still gripped by her dream and what she experienced in them. Jack held her, not allowing her to move.
“Irina, you should talk to someone, if only me.”
She reddened, glancing away, “I—I can’t. Let me go.” Tears filled her eyes again, spilling over onto her cheeks. She felt awful and sick to her stomach.
Jack gripped her wrist. “Stop it. You’re my wife. Let me help. I can’t if you won’t talk to me.”
Without warning, Irina pulled loose, rolled out of bed, and ran to the bathroom. Jack shoved the covers back as he heard her vomit. He ran inside the room to find her heaving again. When she finished, she leaned her head forward onto the edge of the seat, gasping.
Jack kneeled beside her. He had a washcloth in his hand, wiping her face. Sweat was visible on her upper body. “How often do you have this—this nightmare?”
“Less frequently now, but every once in awhile, it comes back.” She smiled weakly.
“Are you finished,” he asked.
“I think so.”
He pulled her up. “Do you want to shower?”
She nodded weakly, “I probably don’t smell so good.”
Jack held onto her, opened the door, and turned on the water. She was already naked, so he pushed her gently inside. A moment later, his pajama bottoms were off, and he too stepped inside. He took the washcloth and began soaping it. He kept the water temperature neither hot nor cold. He moved the washcloth back and forth over her body.
Pushing her out of the shower, he pulled the white bath sheet off its rack and enfolded her with it.
He turned her into him and finished toweling her body. He leaned down, “I do love you. I have never stopped, but you very nearly killed me and…”
She stopped him, her hand on his mouth. “I paid a heavy penalty, more than you can ever know. I too love you.” He believed truly.
“Stay with me. Stay with your family.” He led her toward the bed. “There have been too many lost years and there are times when I cannot bear to be alone. It’s only Sydney that keeps me sane.”
Irina stared at him. “Jack, ti nuzhna mne, I need you to be here—to know you are the rock I can come back to whenever necessary.”
“Sweetheart, stay, please…pazhaluysta…” He pulled her into bed, sitting and holding her.
She laid her head back against him. He could not see her eyes, but he wanted her to feel safe. “Remember when I told you I wanted to quit the CIA?’
“Yes…just before I…”
“I will quit now if that would mean you would do the same.”
“Oh Jack, I can’t…they’ll kill me! I shouldn’t even be here, you know that! We’d both have to disappear. The girls…even they wouldn’t be safe.”
“Irina, I could work something out.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Laskovaya moye, I cannot take the risk of something terrible happening to you or the girls.”
Jack sighed. He was all too aware of the danger. If the Russians thought Irina Derevko, a top agent of the SVR was not loyal, they would kill her or worse yet, they would kill the people who meant the most to her. He sighed again. Glancing down, he saw she was asleep. Gently, he slid down so her head was on the pillow. She would have to leave in the morning for the journey back.
Using his right index finger, he quietly traced her face and figure, as if hoping he would retain the image in his head.
Then, driven by desire, his hands were all over her, and his mouth, heating her blood, tripping her pulse. Irina was not fully awake yet.
“Ti nuzhna mne,” she murmured and slowly, she shifted her body under him. She sensed his smell, taste, and shape, and the need for him was heightened, even though she had almost fallen into a deep sleep. She sighed.
His fingers lightly stroked her soft, warm flesh. Her eyes opened languidly to see the outline of his head as he bent slowly down. His tongue asked and she permitted it to slide across her half-open mouth. His lips brushed hers; then she heard the erotic words close to her ear. “I want to be inside you. I need to carry the memory with me.”
Irina was aroused, still floating on a hazy cloud where pleasure was lazy and sweet.
“Irina,” he said her name softly, as his mouth ravished her and his hand slid down to cup the dark patch and the wet aching need.
He wanted her, but this moment played to sensation of heat, thundering blood. He rolled her and their limbs tangled. Irina ran her hands up and down his body thrilled by the muscle, angles, and smooth skin. He knew her wants and needs. He knew her as only the man who loves deeply could.
He was hungry for her. He’d felt the need for her as she screamed in the midst of a nightmare he could not keep her safe from. Still, just the warm comfort of her beside him was and had been a memory he’d never forgotten nor wanted to forget. Just to touch her and see her face was all he needed.
She had become his constant. She was the lynchpin now that he wanted his life to revolve around. Deep in his mind, he knew that would not happen…but if he planned carefully…
Her mouth was eager; her hands reached for him, gently squeezing. He knew their moods matched here and now.
Half-mad, Jack dragged her up. He could see her eyes, gleaming, focused on him as she locked her long legs around him, as her hips surged to take him in—into the wet heat. She watched him still as she clung to him, already coming as she surrounded him.
His breath caught in his throat and his heart jumped in after it.
He might have spoken, or tried, but she pulled him closer, took him deeper, and banding her arms around him used those strong narrow hips to drive him.
She gripped him while the hungry burning consumed them both. Fires burned as they both felt the explosion of their inner heat.
“F*uck! F*uck! Irina cried.
They slid down together, shuddering. When his head rested between her breasts, she closed her eyes again. “O grom i molniya!
“Guess you’re feeling better,” he said, laughing. “Thunder and lighting, eh?” He raised his head to look at her. She was crying.
“Oh Jack, I love you.”
He kissed her gently, looking into her dark eyes. “Lyublyu tebyA vsem sertsem, vsey dushoyu.” He kissed her again. “Rest, sweetheart. You have a long trip ahead of you.”
It was seven in the morning. There was fog and the day looked gloomy. Irina stood before the closet, containing only the red dress and red stilettos. She would love to have those shoes with her. They made her feel human. She carried nothing. She was dressed in the clothes she wore coming to see Sydney. Her heart felt constricted. She shut the door and turned, leaning against it.
Jack was downstairs fixing a light breakfast. He was going to drive her to the train station. She wanted to see Sydney again; hopefully Nadia would be there also, but if not…
“Jack,” she called…starting down the stairs…
The CIA agent sat next to the door, reading the morning newspaper. Jack walked up and introduced himself. “Is there anyone inside visiting?”
“No,” the agent answered.
“Good. My sister is leaving town and would like to see her niece one more time. Come with me. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
”My orders are to stay here.” He glanced at Jack.
“I know, but I don’t think anyone is going to be bothering my daughter. I called headquarters. You should be…” there was the sound of the cell phone ringing.
The agent answered, listened and nodded. “Very well. Thanks.” He looked at Jack.
“I’ve been ordered back to the office.”
Jack nodded, watching him disappear in the elevator. He whistled softly. Irina walked from around a corner where she’d been waiting. She entered the room. Jack took the chair vacated by the agent.
“Sydney,” Irina called softly. Her daughter looked so much better. She was thankful. “Sydney, it’s Mom.”
Her daughter slowly opened her eyes. She had taken a sleeping pill last night and was a bit drugged. She smiled when she saw Irina. “Mom!”
Irina leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks. “I have to go. Your father will keep me informed.”
“Oh no, Mom, please stay.”
“Ssh, ssh sweetheart. You know I can’t. I would if I could, please believe me.” Her right hand tucked a strand of her hair that had fallen across her face. “Promise me you will do everything you can to get well?”
“Of course,” Sydney gripped her mother’s hand. “I love you, Mom. Thanks for coming. I know you took a terrible chance.”
“I would do it for your father and your sister.” She rose up. “I’ve got to go.”
Sydney watched her mother leave the room, more tears welling up in her eyes.
Translations:
Pazhaluysta - Please
Perestan’ mne jabat’ mozgi svojimi voprosami - stop f*ucking my brain with your questions
Moya bog - my God
nyet - no
Ya tebyA lyublyU - I love you
ti nuzhna mne - I need you
Laskovaya moye - My sweet