The Derevko Journals

18. Truth Takes Time

We drove to a private airfield near the canal and boarded Arvin’s private jet. Our destination would be Europe. After takeoff, Arvin and I faced each other. I changed clothes, wearing something a little more comfortable. Julian was sitting across the aisle working on his lap top.

“Do you have any operatives left,” asked Arvin.

I think he wanted to add them to his own group. No one, not even Sark, knew about my lieutenants and what I told them. The Man was no longer in business. I shut everything down. I let my friends, my comrades, continue if they wanted, otherwise they would retire. I did keep three operative intact, because I knew Sloane would ask. I had two others, but he wouldn’t know about them..

“I still have operatives in St. Petersburg, Madrid and Cairo.”

“How reliable?”

“Reliable,” I said.

“Good.” He looked at me. “Are you all right?”

“The extraction went well,” I said. Of course, I had other thoughts.

“I’m asking about you, Irina.”

I knew what he meant. He knew I’d been interacting with Sydney, my daughter, as well as Jack. He was probing for my regrets, but he wasn’t going to get them.

I’d made my choice. “I’m happy to see you again.” Big lie, but I was using all my charm that dazzled men before this to make him believe it. I knew he didn’t know yet about Nadia and I wasn’t going to tell him until the time was right, if then.

“I was thinking the same thing myself,” he said. “What about the genetic database?”

Sloane was in hiding unable to show himself. His picture was plastered in every police station all over Europe, the U.S., Canada, Mexico and the Far East. I’m sure they were even in the bigger cities of those continents not thought of. Part of his plan was to obtain the genetic codes of millions, especially those located in Europe. I wanted those genetic codes for something else...a possible lead on Nadia’s whereabouts.

“Sark and I will meet you back in Zurich. As soon as they are acquired, you’ll have the files.”

“Good. I’ll be in Tuscany with Emily.”

“How is she?” I was genuinely concerned. Sydney told me Emily had died of cancer, but I did know different. It was all a part of his scheme to divest himself of The Alliance, Emily was alive.

“She’s in remission. The hard part for her now is missing the people she had to leave behind, especially Sydney. You know how much we loved her, as if she were our own.” He smiled.

I looked at him and was not amused. I turned to Sark. “Excuse us.” I waited as he stood and left; then I leaned forward. “I see through you. You must know that.”

“This is who I am.”

What the frack is he talking about? “You may need to think of yourself as an honorable husband, a father figure, but I don’t. I will never see that man in you, which frankly is why we have this agreement.”

“You need to get some rest,” he almost sneered.

“Never talk to me about your love for Sydney again,” I warned.

He stood, “get some rest.” He turned and left

I leaned back in my seat thinking. I would have to proceed with care if I was to attain my goal. He wasn’t going to know about Nadia either. Not if I could help it!


Several hours later, we landed in Stuttgart. I’d changed clothes wearing a business type suit. Sloane handed me a briefcase and Sark was given a package. We left the plane which would soon take off to fly to Tuscany where Emily waited for Sloane. We were to call him when we successfully concluded our mission.

Brucker Biotech was my objective. I’d set up an appointment with one of its officials while in the air. He was to meet me in the reception hall. I was planning to offer him a substantial sum of money for some of their work. Of course that would not happen as I would take what I wanted once I had him in the computer room where the data was kept.

We met and began walking down a hall to the elevator. “Like many pharmaceutical companies, the firm I represent has closely monitored your work mapping the human genome. We are interested in licensing that work.”

“We’re in the process of fielding many such offers. I’m afraid your firm, Schtat Pharmaceuticals is one I’m not familiar with.”

We took the elevator to the third floor. When we exited, I handed him a card. “Oh we are a small Scandinavian consortium, but I will not have come all this way if I did not believe my offer was significant.”

He looked at the card, nodded and said. “I will show you where the data is processed. Right this way.” He was impressed by the dollar signs.

“Thank you.”

Just then I heard Sark’s voice on our COM link. “Servers are located on sublevel E. Beyond radio contact. When you’re prepared for extraction, I’ll be standing by.”

Minutes later, we entered the server room.

“It took fifteen years of analysis, but we finally assembled all the information in a high-resolution DNA map of equal detail.” The official led the way past the working computers.

Suddenly the door opened and Sark entered. I was surprised as he calmly shot out the camera. Then he turned and shot the official in the chest, sending him backwards into a chair, dead. I was in shock. What had happened?

“There’s a CIA tactical team in a van out front. We’ve been tracked. I’ve swept myself, I’m clean.” Sark explained, taking out a bug sweeper. He ran it down and up my body. It beeped in front of my breasts.

“Jack,” I said, remembering now the sharp pinprick pain. Jack tagged me! He’d known I was going to leave.

Sark took out a small medical kit. “I don’t understand; when we extracted you from the CIA, we scanned you for transmitters.”

“It must have been on time delay.” I opened my business suit jacket, revealing my chest. Sark took out two electro medical paddles, looking at me as though unsure about proceeding.

“Do it!” I snapped. I leaned up against the wall, bracing myself. Sark shocked my chest, scrambling the signal.

“Unnhhh!” I grunted in a painful response. I knew the signal would be lost wherever it had been transmitting to.

Buttoning my jacket, I walked to the computer and took out a disk I’d brought. “This will get us into the hard drive.”

“Is the file on the network?” Sark asked.

“Yes, but it’s encrypted. I’ll transfer the file and we can decipher it later.” I stood watching.

“How long will it take to download?”

I looked at the computer. “Five minutes. Make sure there’s no evidence that we were here.” I knew the CIA did know, but they might not know what we were after or why.

He moved to the door, “All right, I’ll take care of it. I’ll set the detonation for six minutes. Meet me at the extraction point.” He was gone.

I glanced at my watch. I probably had two minutes after the disc was completed to get out of the building.

When the computer was done the download, I grabbed the disk and hurried out. I didn’t even look at my watch. I was lucky, the elevator was open. I jumped inside and hit the button for the first floor. I was out in thirty seconds. Now, glancing at my watch, I saw I had a minute. I hurried toward the exit. There was a commotion behind me. I glanced back. Oh God, it was Sydney with Vaughn. She was headed the other way.

“Sydney!” I screamed, turned and ran. I knew Sark was waiting with the car at the foot of the stairs. I jumped in and he sped off. I didn’t even want to look back. I could only hope Sydney had seen me and had come racing after me.

The explosion rocked the car. I glanced at Sark. “How much C-4 did you use?”

“Enough,” was his only comment.

I sat back in the seat and opened my briefcase. The disk rested inside. We had a drive to get to the border between Germany and Switzerland through some lower mountains. It would probably take us until dark. Sloane was in Tuscany with Emily, but I also knew he kept his plane ready. Perhaps it was at the Zurich air field, but in any case we would need to get away until we knew whether or not Sloane had been compromised. I had to call him. I called the airfield and learned that Sloane had sent the plane back for us.

“Who are you calling?” Sark asked.

I was punching in Sloane’s number in Italy. “Sloane. He has to know what happened.”

The phone rang a few times; then I heard, “Hello?” It was Emily.

“May I speak with your husband,” I asked.

“Just a moment.” Sloane must have entered whatever room she was in, because I heard Emily say, “It’s for you. A woman.”

“Yeah?”

“I recovered the file, but I was tracked.”

“By whom?”

“CIA.” I answered not wishing to elaborate on how it was done. “Until we know otherwise, we have to assume you’ve been exposed as well. You better leave the house until we know for sure.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“Meet me at the airfield. We’re going to fly from Zurich in your plane.”

“Okay.” Arvin hung up.

We took Arvin’s plane from Zurich to the airfield outside Florence. I was sure Arvin had persuaded Emily to come with him. I took the opportunity to change clothes. I was also preparing myself to see Emily, who thought I was, as Laura Bristow, dead. I knew Jack and Arvin didn’t tell her who I really was, but now she would know.

The plane landed and taxied to a hanger where small, expensive private jets were kept. As we neared it, I saw a black limousine parked. Arvin was here. The plane came to a stop and moments later the two of them came on board.

“What do you mean, you own this?” Emily sounded oddly disconcerted.

“It’s my plane, sweetheart. It’s ours.”

“Arvin, I’ve been more than patient. It’s enough.”

I thought I’d better make my entrance and leave. “Hello.” I said standing and moving toward Emily who was staring at me in shock.

“I don’t understand...” she said.

I came up to her and gave her a hug.

“Laura...Laura, I thought...”

I smiled. “Arvin will tell you.” I looked at him. The disk, as promised.” I handed it to him walking past them to leave them alone. I did not envy him. Emily was obviously upset when she saw me. I’m sure Arvin didn’t confess and I certainly was not either.

The plane took us to Leonardo Da Vinci International Airport, which was about 21 miles from Rome itself. We took a taxi into the city and rented rooms at a small hotel. I was tired and wanted to sleep. Sloane was checking on the villa to see if anyone who wasn’t expected showed up. There had been no activity and Sloane felt that Emily should return for safety and comfort.

I went to their suite. I wanted to find out if Emily had come to grips with my return to life. Knocking at the door, I waited. Someone came to the door and opened it. It was Emily, who looked at me coldly.

“May I come in?” I asked quietly.

“Yes, please do.”

I touched her arm, but she flinched and stepped away. Emily led the way into the sitting room. “May I sit down?” Again I asked politely.

“Just who are you,” she said, sitting down in a chair. She nodded to the other chair.

“My real name is Irina Derevko. When I knew you, I was...was a spy for the KGB.” I decided not to elaborate, especially about the special assignments I did.

“Arvin told me that,” she said. “I just can’t fathom how you could do it? Jack is a wonderful man and good friend of ours. You even had a child with him.”

I nodded. “I love her, Emily. I imagine you cannot believe it, but it’s true. I know this is hard for you, but I want Sydney to be free of the CIA. I want her to get married, have children, maybe teach also.” I kept my eyes focused on her face. “I’m afraid she will not give it up now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think she will until she has both Arvin and myself in custody or dead. She thinks I betrayed her again.”

“You brought it on yourself.” She said coldly.

“Yes,” I said, lowering my eyes and looking away. I stood. “I just came to see if you had any questions. I know Arvin must have filled you in on everything about me that he knows.”

“Yes...” She answered. “I know all that I want to know.” She said it without emotion or even caring. Laura Bristow was still dead to her.

“Good. Then I’ll leave. Tell Arvin I’ll be in my room until morning. I’ll probably take a run then, before breakfast.” I strode out of the room, biting my lip. I’d lost the friendship of Emily for good.

The next morning I was told Emily was back in Florence. Sloane learned the villa had not been under watch by anyone, so he sent her back and gave her the disk to put in their safe. I knew that was a relief for him as he wanted to keep her from harm and not involved. I thought he was being a fool. Emily was not stupid. I’d learned he’d told her about The Alliance and the part he played. When she agreed to play dead, she became involved.

We stayed in Rome while Arvin made contact with friends in Washington DC to see how far the investigation was going and if the CIA had made further plans to locate and capture him. I made contact with my own personal mole and wanted to know what Sydney was doing. So far, nothing. She had returned from Stuttgart and been debriefed. She and Vaughn had gone home together afterward.

About four days later, I was into the third mile of my morning run when my cell rang. I stopped and pulled if off my belt. “Yes?”

“Irina?” It was Sloane.

I told him. “I’m meeting with a man this afternoon who can get us six hours in a KRX1 computer. It should be able to decrypt the genetic database.” There was silence. “Are you there?”

“What if I told you that I wanted you to buy me out? That I’d be willing to sell you the breath of my assets, my contacts, all the Rambaldi artifacts I’ve acquired over the last thirty years, everything?”

I gasped. He would sell me everything? I knew I had more than enough money to do that. What was he up to? “I’d say that either you’re setting me up to kill me...or I underestimated your love for your wife!” I meant the first part as a joke.

“Well, I’m going back to Tuscany tomorrow to see Emily. The house is safe. Emily’s meeting me there. You can pick it up the database from me there. I can’t blame Emily, she’s right. I want out.”

I was stunned. He wanted out...not to pursue Rambaldi, his theories and his predictions? I had no wish to prolong anything. I wanted that database. “Why don’t I just go with you. I’ll arrange for Sark to pick me up by helicopter. How about payment? I don’t have cash to bring with me. I have to arrange for the sale of some assets. You haven’t told me your price.”

He did. It wouldn’t be a hardship. “Cash or negotiable bonds?”

“Cash will fine and I’ll have you transfer it to my bank.”

“Good. I’ll make some calls. When do you want to leave?”

“Nine. It will take us about four hours to get there.” He hung up.

We didn’t say much on the trip back. He gave me a list of his assets in various cities and banks. What I was really interested in was where he kept the Rambaldi artifacts, which included those he’d robbed from the DSR which had them stored in a Nevada warehouse. He’d said he thought he had everything needed to put the machine together that Rambaldi designed. I made calls and arrangements based on my obtaining the disk.

We arrived at the villa mid-day. Emily was inside waiting for him. The Mercedes pulled up and we got out, including two bodyguards. He told me that once I had the disk, I could leave by a secret tunnel that led to the field just outside the perimeter of the villa. Evidently the previous owners had a need for it.

“Where is it?”

“The entrance is in the kitchen. I’ll show you after I see Emily.”

We entered the house. He pulled a card from his pocket. “The genetic database is in a safe in the study. It’s just off to the eft. This is the combination.”

“Are you certain about this?”

“Yeah, yeah,” and he disappeared down the hall.

Arvin had given me directions to the study. I moved quickly to it. I opened the door and pulled out the disk, just as shots, a lot of them, were fired from outside and inside the villa. There was the sound of glass crashing. I ran quickly to the kitchen. I was pressed against the wall when Arvin and Emily came running past me. Arvin hit a button and a door slid open, revealing the secret passage.

“Come on,” said Sloane, pulling Emily.

I knew he meant me, but I had to get word to Julian. “Go!” I said to them. Then on the Com link, I said, “I have the disk and am ready for extraction.”

“Copy that,” said Sark.

I ran into the passage. Arvin and Emily were out of sight. I heard a sound behind me. Someone else was coming. It had to be a CIA agent. I pulled my gun. I ran around a corner, down a short corridor, and around another corner just as shots were fired at me. Holding the disk in my left hand, I fired my gun. As I ducked back I caught a glimpse of the agent. Oh God, it was Sydney.

She fired again. I returned fire, hoping it would keep her back long enough for me to climb the ladder to get out. Perhaps she wouldn’t shoot me, but in a fleeting instant, I knew that wouldn’t happen. I ran to the ladder, climbing as fast as I could. I was almost at the top when...

“Freeze! Don’t move.” It was Sydney.

I looked down at her briefly. She wasn’t fooling, but I had to take the chance. I could hear the helicopter which meant Sark was there and would provide covering fire. I moved up the ladder; then she fired. The bullet struck my left upper arm. I dropped the disk, but managed to pull myself up and over.

“Ugh! Ow...ahhh...” The pain for the moment was bad, but I had to get up and moving. I saw the helicopter. Sark was in the doorway with an AK-47. Just then I heard a shot from a rifle. I glanced to where Arvin and Emily were running. Emily dropped to the ground, wounded or worse.

Holding my arm I hurried over to Arvin who was bending over Emily, crying. She was dead. I grabbed him and practically dragged him toward the helicopter. Sark had fired at Sydney when she came up out of the tunnel, driving her back. It gave me time to get Arvin on board..

“Go, go, go!” Sark yelled at the pilot.

Arvin and I watch as Sydney ran toward Emily. She was crying.

“Do you have the disk?” asked Sark.

I shook my head, holding my arm, and looked down as the helicopter moved off. Sydney was holding Emily and crying. I felt a terrible loss and I knew Arvin did even more so. The only comforting thought I had was that Sydney was down there...with Emily. She would take care of everything.


We flew north to a small heliport outside Florence and then took Arvin’s jet to Zurich. I was taken to a hospital for surgical care of my wound. I spent two days in the hospital, but asked Sark to bring me the broach I’d given him earlier. It was well after midnight. Everyone was asleep. The staff was not going to be coming to check on me.

I took the broach and began tapping it. Would she hear it and would she know that TRUTH TAKES TIME?

TBC :eek:hmy:
 
19. Endgame

We flew to Florence where we boarded Arvin’s plane. Arvin was a mess. The death of Emily had hit him hard. I had Sark tell the pilot that we should go to Zurich. I needed a doctor, but in Switzerland before Italy. Not that the doctors were not capable, but a crime had been committed in their country. I would rather go to a hospital in another country where not many questions would be asked.

Before we landed, I called Arvin’s headquarters with his permission and arranged for a car to pick us up. I was taken to a discrete hospital where surgery would have to be done. The bullet was still in my upper arm. Sydney had used a .22 caliber and luckily it didn’t do as much damage as it could have.

I would have to have a talk with her one day about that. Dangerous not to put an enemy down with the correct caliber. However, I knew we’d probably not meet again, so I put that idea on hold.

The doctor told me I would have to have minor surgery. I told Julian to take Arvin to his quarters; then come back in the evening. I thought they would keep me overnight. He agreed and said he’d see me later.

The surgery went off just fine. The wound was cleansed and repair of a tendon that had been severed was done. The wound was closed and bandage applied. The doctor suggested I stay overnight for precautions.

Sark returned at seven. I’d just finished the dinner they provided. He seemed glad to see I was all right.

“Mr. Sloane is in his rooms. I don’t think I’d ever seen a man cry so much.”

“He was in love with his wife,” I answered. I thought of Jack and the conversation we’d had on the plane to Hong Kong, a couple of weeks ago. Sloane was devoted to Emily as Jack had said. Of course, I rated the same devotion until the extraction. I wondered briefly if it would hold true after twenty years.

“Seems odd for a man who doesn’t practice a devotion to the lives of others.”

“Yes, doesn’t it.” I understood it though. It was like my love for Sydney. She was the one good thing about my own life. “It’s what I feel for Sydney.”

“She shot you,” he exclaimed.

“Payback,” I said smiling.

He stared at me for a minute and then said, “The artifacts are in the warehouse, here in Zurich.”

“All of them. The raid went off perfectly thanks to your information.”

I wanted to leave my bed and go there, but I knew it was impossible now. I would get ahold of them some way and soon. “You know this how?”

“I helped steal them.” He grinned.

“Good.”

“There’s another problem.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Dr. Neil Caplan. Sloane kidnapped him and is holding him in Sarria, Spain.”

“Why?”

“To decrypt the DNA data base that Sloane already had. The one from Brucker we lost, but he had more. However nothing is readable. Caplan is supposed to be able to get it done, but so far...”

“Pick me up in the morning. We’ll get Arvin and go to Sarria tomorrow.” I wanted to know what was on that data base. I know Sloane wanted it for a reason that was like mine...to identify one person out of the possible millions on it. I wanted to find Nadia and it was the DNA results that could possibly find her. I knew she was out there somewhere in the world, but where I had no idea.

Sark picked me up and we drove to Arvin’s headquarters. He was at his desk when I arrived. He sat behind his desk looking out at nothing. I stood beside it looking at him.

“Arvin? Arvin? This plan might not hold up. The CIA knows too much. They could guess why we were after the genetic database.”

“I’m not interested in the database. I want satellite footage of Tuscany. I want to know who murdered my wife.”

“We both had to make sacrefices, Arvin. You won’t forgive yourself if you stop now. We’re so close to knowing what Rambaldi knew.” I pleaded with him.

“I wish I’d never heard that man’s name.” He answered.

I put my hand over his sympathetically. Emily was truly the love of his life in spite of everything he’d done. I would not bring that up again. It wasn’t worth it. I wanted that information.

“We need to go to Sarria, Arvin. You’ve held Caplan for two months. Surely he’s been able to do something.”

He looked at me, his eyes were dead, lifeless. “You go.”

“Not without you.”

I finally got him to move. We left an hour later, flying to Bilbao. Sarria was nearby in the mountainous area. We would drive to it.

It was midnight before we drove up to a small hotel. Sloane had a suite there. His men were staying at the warehouse. I was tired and my arm ached. I would put off visiting Caplan until morning.

It was near nine o’clock when I strode into the warehouse. Neil Caplan was chain handcuffed, seated behind a desk that had a laptop and other things on it when I entered the room. Arvin had told me what Caplan had been asked to do. However it seemed that the CIA rescued his wife and child, whom he was using to keep Caplan working.

“We still need your help.” I held a disk in my hand. “I just downloaded this. That’s a catalog of over ten million people’s DNA. We’re looking for someone specific, a man. However it’s encrypted. We need you to break it.” I placed it in front of him.

“For the past two months I haven’t heard a word about my family or been given any indication whether they’re dead or alive. SO you can just kill me. Just kill me because there’s no way in hell I’m going to help you people anymore.”

“What if I told you that your family is not only alive, but that we let them go?” I took out a cell phone from my pants pocket and dropped it in front of him. “Call your house. Call.”

He punched in the number. It rang.

“Hello,” and his reaction was excited.

“Elsa, it’s me!” He cried.

“Hello?” He listened again.

“Elsa, Elsa. I’m alive!” He shouted.

I took the phone from him. “She can’t hear you. I modified the cell phone.”

“Hello!” I heard her voice.

“They’re home. They’re safe. Now you have something to live for, Mr. Caplan.” I put the phone in my pocket and left him.

I went back to Sloane’s office, to wait. Sloane was out somewhere and I had no idea how long it would take Caplan. I was not familiar with his work. Sloane knew of it and that’s why he brought him here. Still that was before Emily. Now, I wasn’t sure about Sloane’s feelings.

I did not have Rambaldi’s artifacts that Sloane held. He’d rescinded his offer. Although I said nothing, I was angry. We’d agreed. I’d even helped him obtain everything that the DSR and NSA had. I didn’t care about his plans—locating the single man he was looking for…I was looking for my daughter.

It was a day later that I decided to see what Caplan had accomplished. I found him at his desk staring at what I don’t know.

“It’s been twenty-four hours.”

He glanced at me. “This database is encoded with an 8192-bit military-grade polymorphic encryption. Unless you want to kidnap a smarter genius than me, it’s going to be a little while.”

“Tell me what you need to speed this up.” I felt myself becoming irritated.

“I need access to a Cray supercomputer.” He sighed.

“I hope you’re not stalling, Mr. Caplan, because your safe return to your family is no guarantee. Understand?”

Suddenly and without warning, Caplan grabbed me, threw me on the desk on my stomach. He took the chain that connected his handcuffs, and put it around my throat, choking me.

I gasped! “Arggh!”

Almost at the same moment, I heard a shot. Caplan let go of me immediately, yelling and groaning in pain. Sloane stood behind us with his gun. He pressed the gun against Caplan’s throat.

“A few days ago…” he said.

“My leg! Aghhhh!” Caplan held his leg.

“…I would have done anything to keep you alive,” Sloane continued. “Now I don’t care.”

He was about to pull the trigger. Rubbing my neck, I stopped him. “Arvin! Arvin! Arvin, don’t. We need him.”

Caplan cried out. “My leg!” He fell to the floor.

I made Arvin leave and pulling out my cell phone, called a doctor. We were not in a large city, so I had to deal with whoever I could get. It was fifteen minutes and two thousand pesetas later that a silver-haired man carrying a black bag was led into the room by Sark. He examined Neil and noted that it had been a through and through shot.

I’d actually found the bullet on the floor near him. I’d picked it up. I wasn’t sure about the gunshot policies in Spain, but soon learned they were not as strict as they were in the U.S; He cleaned the wound and bound it with padding over the in and out openings. He left us with bandages and some pain pills. I gave Neil two pain pills. Sark was admonished to keep an eye on him and I left.

“Wait until tomorrow. Let’s give him time to not only to think about what happened, but how much easier it will be to comply with our request.”

“You want me to stay here?”

“No, wait until he’s asleep, before you leave. I gave him a powerful sleeping pill. He’ll sleep for eight hours. Tell the guards to check on him occasionally. You come back in the morning.”

Julian nodded, relieved, I knew, not to be staying the night here. I didn’t blame him. Now, however, I had to get Sloane up to speed.

The next day we were invaded by the CIA and Caplan was rescued. It was Sydney and Vaughn! The men on guard were killed and Julian barely escaped as Vaughn chased him through the warehouse and out onto the roof. Julian knew where the fire escape was and was gone by the time the other man found it.

We hustled Sloane into a car at the hotel and left quickly. We would get to Bilbao bfore the CIA located us. I assumed they were more concerned about Caplan’s safety than catching us, at least for the moment. When we arrived at the airport, we took off within minutes, for Zurich. Sloane didn’t say more than a half dozen words during the entire flight. He was still morose over Emily’s death. I wasn’t sure when he’d come out of it.


20. Countdown

I left Julian in charge of Sloane while I went on some important errands. We’d lost the Sarria spot and we needed another space, at least that’s what I told Julian. He’d pass on the message to Sloane. I didn’t know then that he’d finally came to a decision about taking revenge for Emily’s murder, as he called it. If I’d been there I might have been able persuade him otherwise. I knew Emily had taken the bullet that was meant for him. Whoever took the shot certainly was well enough trained not to miss. Something had happened that I nor Sloane was aware of. However, it was too late. Sloane probably would not find any solace in what he ordered.

Using my cell, I called Viktoria in Rome. I wanted to know our status not only there but elsewhere in the world.

“Irina! Are you okay?” She said after I identified myself.

“Yes. I need information.”

“Of course. What?”

“How bad are Arvin Sloane and I wanted?”

There was silence at the other end. Then she said, “You and Sloane are at the top of almost every wanted list. Only Osama bin Laden is above you.” She said nothing more.

“Chyort!”

“Yes, it’s a bitch.” She replied. “Where are you?”

I glanced out the window. “I think we’re passing over the northern part of Italy. I’m looking for someplace to land. I’ve got to get back to the U.S.”

“Why?”

“It’s personal. Thanks. How are things with you?”

“Everything is buttoned up here. I’m going to be married soon.”

I laughed softly, “Congratulations. Is it someone I know?” We had exchanged words on several occasions.

“No. He’s Italian and is in the foreign service. We’re going to be married and then we’re going to London. He’s being posted to the Italian Embassy there.”

“Then the best of luck to you. Perhaps we’ll see each other again someday.”

“I hope so. Good luck and keep safe.” She hung up.

“Yes,” I whispered to myself. I stood and walked to the cockpit. Opening the door, I looked at the pilot. “I need to change our destination. Tirana in Albania. Do you know it?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll leave the plane and you can fly back to take Mr. Sloane whereever he might want to go.” I knew it was more reasonable than to continue on to Cyprus. Besides I didn’t want to go there anyway. It might take us a couple of hours to Albania, but by then I would have my plans in order.

I wanted the Rambaldi artifacts, but I thought I wasn’t going to have a chance now to remove them from his warehouse. Sloane had doubled the guard there and, more importantly, he’d made arrangements to move some of the collection to someplace in the Western Hemisphere and where I was not a party to that destination.

When I landed, I went through customs without raising the flag so to speak. Officials in Tirana, the capitol of Albania, were more inclined to accept money rather than turn anyone into the international police. They all had the blood of bandits in their veins. I went to a local hotel near the airport and arranged for a room.

There I sat in the chair provided and thought about my options. Sloane had sent someone to Panama to obtain what he called the Di Regno heart. He needed it for the Rambaldi machine. Every part was in the warehouse except it. Soon he would have it also. That meant I would not be able to get it either. How was I going to manage stealing everything? I thought of several ways, but they all ended up with a disaster.

I would wait and keep Sloane in my sight.


21. Second Double

Unfortrunately, Sloane suddenly disappeared. He said nothing to me…or Sark. He left no note or gave me an excuse. He was just gone. Damn it! I wonder if he thought I was going to double cross him. He had taken back his offer to sell me all his Rambaldi artifacts.

Acting on a hunch, I used the computer to check the security on the warehouse in Zurich. Everything was still there. There was no sign of anything being disturbed. Perhaps Arvin was still mourning Emily’s loss and had secluded himself somewhere. However, his absence was disturbing.

The DiRegno heart had disappeared also. Sloane expected it here, but somehow the CIA found out where it was and confiscated it. Now it was in NSA’s hands. He had not been pleased when the news was passed to him. If he’d left to get it, I was sure he’d tell me. So why did he go without leaving a note?

Now I was left without something. I only had access to Julian and his asset. How was I going to use them? I knew we had to set up Tippin, so pressure would be taken off any one else close to Sydney, including Francie.

I called Sark, who entered my office. “Julian,” I started. “Will Tippin…”

He interrupted me. “I assume Sloane wanted Tippin killed before the CIA interrogates him?”

“Sloane’s gone. Perhaps for good. We can’t wait for his return.”

“If the CIA uses regression therapy to find out who he’s been leaking information to, our Los Angeles asset will be compromised.”

I looked at him. “I don’t want Tippin killed. I’ve set up a meeting with someone who can help us obtain the DiRegno heart. In the meantime, tell our asset Tippin’s frame needs to be convincing.”

He nodded, leaving me. I made a phone call to my contact who was arranging the meeting with man who could get us plans of the NSA building where the heart might be found. I had to go to a local bank and arrange for some cash.

As I waited at the manager’s desk in the bank, my cell buzzed and my contact confirmed the place where I would meet the man with the plans. I gave him my assurance that I would have everything with me. The meeting was supposed to be this afternoon at a warehouse in City of Commerce. I would have Sark drive me when he returned.

At the appointed time, I met the man. “The plans, please.”

He was checking the contents of the briefcase. “What surprised me is you want blueprints to a government storage facitily, rumor being that you’re working with CIA now.” He handed me the blueprints. “Do me a favor and tell me how you plan to do it.”

“Doing what,” I asked.

“Getting past the new access control system. Because unless you know how to crack it, these blueprints won’t do you any good.”

I swore silently, but smiled. “Thank you.” We parted company.

I returned to the office to find Sark finishing a phone call. He looked at me. “How did it go?”

“The NSA facility uses state-of-the-art locking mechanisms.”

“We’ve by-passed systems like that before.” He said confidently.

“The access codes I downloaded from the CIA Echelon system won’t work anymore. The NSA uses a time-synchronized key card.”

He stood. “Presumably a CIA agent under the proper duress could obtain such a key card. I’m about to confess something that will either delight you—which I hope is the case—or it will make you furious.”

I think he was standing in order to escape faster. “While you were away Will Tippin was ordered to Camp Harris for unrestricted interrogation. They would have found out about our asset.”

I stared at him. “What did you do?

“I instructed that he be extracted and killed.”

My voice came out low and measured. “I told you I didn’t want him killed. Your asset could have been pulled from the field.”

“Yes, I know, but the situation had changed. Sydney, out of fear for Francie’s life, told her she was going to Marseilles to recover evidence that would clear Tippin.”

“Is he dead?” I asked the question, hoping there was a negative answer. I didn't want another of SYdney's friends killed. She'd be devastated.

“No, he’s at large and believed to have escaped which should provide us the leverage we need to get into the NSA, If we recover evidence in Marseilles before Sydney, we can force her hand. Proof of Will’s innocence in exchange for her aid in securing the key card.”

I studied his face and the idea. If I could get there before Sydney, it might work. “I’m going to check this out. If what I learn is good, I’ll fly to Marseilles immediately. Now leave me…and thank you.”

He smiled happily and left.

I called a special number. It rang a couple of times. “Hello,” I said, “it’s me. I want to know where Sydney is.” I listened for a minute. “Thank you. There will be a bonus in your account if the information checks out.”

As soon as I hung up, I dialed the Santa Monica airport. “Frederick Bonner, please.”
Minutes later, I’d arranged for my flight to Marseilles. I had little time to waste. Sydney was at her apartment packing. I’d bet everything I had in the bank that she was going to invade the facility without the CIA’s sanction. My daughter was very loyal to her friends and would do anything to help them.

I went to the airport immediately after changing clothes. I selected a knife and Glock 9mm automatic. I dressed in a grey long-sleeved tee, black pants, and a vest. I told Frederick to take off and I would catch some sleep. Our ETA meant late night by the time I drove to the warehouse in question.

It was about ten when we landed. I found the car that I rented at the hanger. The driver was told to take me to the address I handed him. I told him I would double his fee if he drove me there within a half-hour. Information from a friend at the airport told me that the CIA plane was just about to land.

In twenty-nine minutes he had me at the warehouse. I handed him his money and told him he could double that by waiting for me. He nodded happily.

“Someplace where you won’t be seen.” I said.

“Oui,” and he pointed to a street. “La, Madame.”

“Bon.”

I left the car, watching him. He parked on the street where other cars were parked. No one would notice another car. I turned and walked to the door. I opened it to find a guard behind a desk which I expected. Without saying anything, I shot him with the Glock which had a silencer on the end of it.

The guard had a screen in front of him. I pulled him to the ground so he would be hidden. I looked at the screen. It was filled with four pictures from cameras inside the facility, but the only one I was interested in was the one showing the Chief of Security at a desk with a control of several servers located through out the building.

I went silently through the double doors after cutting off all the alarm switches. I knew this would help Sydney, but I also knew she would be using tranqs to take down the guards, so probably wouldn’t even pay attention to that fact. Someday I would have to have a serious talk with her if she persisted in using them.

I hurried along a corridor to another set of double doors. I glanced into the window located in each. I saw the server controls and just the edge of a chair. I slipped through them and approached him silently. I was behind him when he sensed I was there. I cut his throat and grabbed his wrist. The kill switch was on it. Pushing the switch would eliminate everything stored.

Ripping the switch off his wrist, I backed away down the hall and transferred the information that would free Tippin while waiting for Sydney whom I knew would not come through the front as I had. I didn’t have to wait long. I pulled the taser from my vest pocket and held it ready, making sure the power surge would be enough to put my daughter down, but not hurt her.

Suddenly she was there, turning the COS around and seeing him dead.

“Hello Sydney,” I said, jabbing the taser at her. It shocked with a crackling sound. She fell to her knees.

“Ahhhh,” she cried.

I jabbed her again and she fell flat to the ground in pain. She wasn’t dead, but she wouldn’t be following me.

I leaned forward, my voice low. “I know what you’re after. Your friend’s suspected of being a double. You believe the information on this server could clear him.” I held the kill-switch in my and was about to hit the button.

“No, don’t--!

I hit it and the power went off and on.

“You erased it,” cried Sydney.

“I transferred a copy to a secure location. I’ll give it to you. In exchange I want you to do something.”

“Go to hell,” she cried, gasping still with pain.

“If you don’t, you’ll never clear Will’s name. He’ll be tried as a traitor and executed. I’ll be calling on you soon, Sydney.” I turned and ran out, leaving her on the ground.

I found the car and jumped in, telling the driver to return me to the airport. I sat back and placed the kill-switch inside my bag along with the gun, taser and knife. I had completed my task. Now I had to wait to see if I could get ahold of the DiRegno Heart before Sloane knew where it was and beat me to it.


FRENCH TRANSLATION
Bon - good
Oui – Yes
La – There

TBC :cool:
 
" I was taken to a discrete hospital where surgery would have to be done. The bullet was still in my upper arm. Sydney had used a .22 caliber and luckily it didn’t do as much damage as it could have.

I would have to have a talk with her one day about that. "

"I went silently through the double doors after cutting off all the alarm switches. I knew this would help Sydney, but I also knew she would be using tranqs to take down the guards, so probably wouldn’t even pay attention to that fact. Someday I would have to have a serious talk with her if she persisted in using them. "

for some odd reason, those comments strike me as funny. i'm kind of imagining how that would go, like, "Now Sydney, I need to talk to you about something..." and syd's staring at her like whaaaat? or something.
 
!r!nab wrote:

" I was taken to a discrete hospital where surgery would have to be done. The bullet was still in my upper arm. Sydney had used a .22 caliber and luckily it didn’t do as much damage as it could have.

I would have to have a talk with her one day about that. "

"I went silently through the double doors after cutting off all the alarm switches. I knew this would help Sydney, but I also knew she would be using tranqs to take down the guards, so probably wouldn’t even pay attention to that fact. Someday I would have to have a serious talk with her if she persisted in using them. "

for some odd reason, those comments strike me as funny. i'm kind of imagining how that would go, like, "Now Sydney, I need to talk to you about something..." and syd's staring at her like whaaaat? or something.

Well, she's her mother and probably concerned now about her welfare. Hey, you gotta have some funny lines here and there, especially since she doesn't interact with Marshall or Weiss!!!
 
22. The Telling

I returned to L.A. the next day. I found out Sydney was due back later that day. My contact said that she was all right. I was relieved. The taser power had been set to a level to knock her down only.

Will Tippin, of course, was her main concern. I knew I’d send her the information she needed, but only after I was sure his release would not impact our asset’s safety. I wanted to get to Sloane, but his cell was not ringing. He’d tossed it. He probably had another and I wasn’t privy to his new number. Damn him!

The security on the warehouse was checked again and it still was okay. I had an idea that might work. Let the CIA take those artifacts. I still had an ace up my sleeve that no one, not even Julian or Sloane knew anything about. Prophet V had contacted me through various servers, wanting to know if I was still interested. Of course I was and Arvin deserved everything he got.

What with Arvin’s unwillingness to share with me, I would let the U.S. Government take everything. Furthermore, they culd do all the work. I found an internet café in Hollywood and sent the information off the Marseilles server to her to clear Tippin.

The next day my CIA contact told me where Sydney would be on her day off. Hockey practice with Vaughn and I was surprised. Vaughn, I learned, was a Kings hockey fan and even played in an amateur league whenever possible. So it was a good spot to catch her. Practice would be over about three, but Vaughn always stayed a little while longer to school Sydney in skating and shooting the puck. I made arrangements for Vaughn to be called away while they were there.

I entered the ice rink at three-fifteen. Practice was over. Slipping close enough to see without being seen, I watched Vaughn moving easily on the ice as Sydney and he talked. They stopped and Sydney removed two cells from her pocket. Then handed Vaughn one, putting the other back. I could see Vaughn arguing with someone. He put the cell in his pocket and after saying something to Sydney, skated off the rink.

I waited a minute before walking a couple of steps onto the ice. Sydney was practicing moving the puck around. She was not very good. Suddenly she stopped and slowly turned to see me. I watched her warily as she skated to about six feet from me. She was angry.

“You received my intel. Your friend was cleared. I told you I wanted a favor. This is it. Two six six Kroner Strasse in Zurich is the address of Sloane’s warehouse where he’s hiding the Rambaldi artifacts.

“That’s not why you’re here,” said Sydney.

I wondered what other reason she thought I was. “Yes. It’s the only reason.”

“I know you’re lying, of course, but I don’t know why!” She was studying my face.

“Sydney, I’m here to help you.”

Sydney who was angry came charging at me with her hockey stick in her hand. I reached out grabbed the stick and Sydney fell on her back, hitting her head on the ice. I could see she was stunned.

I leaned over her. “Stop being as stubborn as I am! I knew from the beginning when I turned myself in that I would betray the CIA, but not you.” I remembered our first meeting in that glass cell.

“I had to be careful. I needed you to trust me, but I also couldn’t tell you my plan. Sloane had twenty three artifacts and CIA had twenty-four. In order to assemble the device, they all had to be brought together. Those are the pieces in Sloane’s warehouse.”

She was shocked. “You stole Rambaldi pieces from the US Government?”

“Yes…by winning your trust, the CIA’s trust.” I continued.

“And then as planned, I had a proposal delivered to Sloane, a proposal that we work together to take down the Alliance and raid the CIA all at once.” She looked shocked. “I came up with a scenario where the CIA needed to let me use their computer. I used the opportunity to learn where the US Government kept its stash of Rambaldi artifacts. They were being held in a secure NSA lab in Nevada. One month later, Sloane had a team raid the lab.”

“I never heard of the NSA being raided.”

“Of course not,” I responded.

I hesitated a moment, remembering when I last saw her at the CIA. “When the time came for my escape, it was painful because of my love for you, for your father, was not a contrivance.”

She ignored my confession of loving them. “Suddenly you want us to have Sloane’s artifacts?”

“Sydney, I know our relationship is complicated, but I’m your mother. I have to believe that would be the case under any circumstance. Go to Zurich!”

“You’re insane!” Sydney was still angry and petulant.

“One more thing I need to do and I’m sorry for this too.” I elbowed her in the forehead. She fell back, unconscious.

I ran out wondering if she would follow up on what I told her. I didn’t doubt the CIA would because they’d check and find out I was telling the truth about the NSA raid. There would be hell to pay in Washington DC when powers that be also learned about it. That alone gave me pleasure as I drove away. My regret was not seeing Sloane’s face when he found out.

I contacted a friend in Zurich who had been useful several times and told him that a certain warehouse would be raided by a tactical team from the US. I didn’t say what branch. I asked that he call me when he saw or heard anything. There would be a bonus sent to him if he was on site when it happened…or at least close by. The CIA contact let me know the team had taken off early afternoon.

When I arrived at the office, I found Sark gone. There was a note on my desk. “Sorry, but Mr. Sloane offered me a far more lucrative position.”

So Julian switched sides. He was a fool. He had no idea how much power I had waiting for me.

I was in the process of checking what I had on my computer when the Zurich contact called me.

“Irina?”

:”Yes?”

“The raid was a bust. There were no artifacts. The tactical team was very angry…at you.”

I sighed. “Of course. Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

The next day my cell rang. It was my contact at CIA. “You should know that Jack Bristow was captured by a group of men who made off with the DiRegno Heart. Brandon of NSA was killed. No one knows where Bristow is or why he was taken prisoner.”

“Thank you.” I sat back in my chair. Jack captured! It had to be Sloane. Anyone else would have killed him. Now what? I closed my eyes and began to run scenarios in my head.

Jack and Sloane were friends from Jack’s first days at the CIA. Now that he had the heart to complete the Rambaldi machine, did he want Jack to join him? No, Jack wouldn’t join Arvin. He was too loyal to his country and the CIA. I rubbed my temples my mind racing. Why did he need Jack? Perhaps to gloat when he completed the machine. Maybe he wanted to show off?

Where were they? The only person who knew was Sark. Now what was that name Sloane mentioned once. A Swedish scientist who had developed some kind of new miniature chip…Sloane wanted to buy it. I slowed down.my thought process, emptying my mind. I was sure I would remember what he’d said if I could meditate.

I awakened, refreshed, and with the answer. Now I had to get to Sydney. I walked up to the roof top. I punched in her number.

“Hello?” Her voice was clear.

I began, “I didn’t know that Sloane was going to switch crates. I thought they were still there. I swear it.”

“Where the hell are you?”

I don’t know why she thought I would answer her. “Sloane must have known I was going to double cross him. Somehow he knew.” Julian probably gave him the idea. I don’t know why I trusted that boy.

“I am going to find you. I don’tcare—“

“I don’t know where Sloane’s gone, but Sark does. It doesn’t have to be you, just make sure someone from the CIA goes to Vel Smokander. Vel Smokander. It’s a club in Stockholm. Sark’s going to be there, ten o’clock, tomorrow night.”

“How stupid are you to think I would ever believe you again?” She was angry.

“Ultimately you will do what you want. That’s what free will is all about.” I threw in the ‘free will’ to remind her that I kept my promise about Tippin. I cut off our communication. I knew she’d go if anyone went. Now my contact would earn double his money when he heard where Jack and Sloane were. Sydney would have to fly back before she could be in on the rescue.

I flew to Mexico City and arrived there a couple of hours before the tactical team. Sark was in CIA custody and probably be put in prison for a very, very long time. I was going to help Sydney if I could, but I had to be prepared for her stubbornness which nearly matched my own.

Earlier I called on a friend who was an extreme sports addict. He loved doing dangerous stunts. We met at his home. I explained the situation and that I might have to make a quick exit.

He gave me a startled look when he heard what I proposed. “Are you kidding me?”

I shook my head. “I need you to design the thing.”

“Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“I’ve done a bungee jump or two.” I grinned. “It was exhilarating.”

“But off a 50-story building?”

I shrugged. “No, but it can’t be any different than off a two hundred foot bridge?”

He rolled his eyes. “You have to remember you are in Mexico City and at eight thousand feet. There’s going to be windy and it will be extremely cold.”

“So I’ll wear thermal undershirt and pants.” I answered that concern. “Armand, I need to have this in place before my daughter arrives.”

He sighed. “Very well. I’m going to give you the tactical gear to use. If your description is correct, you won’t have much time if she sees you.”

“I know.” I watched him pull out some gear from a box.


I entered the building and took the elevator to the top. I knew Sloane and his men, as well as Jack were somewhere on the 47th floor. They couldn’t be any place else, since Rambaldi dealt a lot in that prime number. I put up the gear as Armand told me to do. It took me only a minute to get everything on me. I’d be over the side in no time. I didn’t look down, that would come later. I looked at my watch. Sydney and the others should be here. I needed to get to the 47th floor and wait.

It was cold, but anticipating Sloane’s capture and my escape made me hot thinking it would be very soon. Jack’s rescue was important. I did not want Sydney parentless. I slipped along the hall and heard a cranking sound. The machine! Sloane had completed it and it was working! Chyort, I wanted to see it! However, I knew that was impossible. Midway along the hallway, I found an empty room. I closed the door and waited.

Minutes later, I heard shots from the hallway. Opening the door to a slit—enough to see some of the hall, I saw Sydney and Agent Vaughn at the far end firing. Looking back, I saw Sloane standing in a doorway. Suddenly one guard told Sloane to go while he fired to cover his escape. Where was Jack? Then the two guards were firing non-stop at Sydney and Vaughn, pinning them down.

I jumped out behind them, firing at both and killing them. “Go after Sloane,” I shouted.
Sydney, of course, sent Vaughn while she ran toward me. I turned and ran up the three flights of stairs to the roof.

I was locked into the bungee and crouching on the ledge when Sydney raced toward me her gun raised.

“Freeze! I’ve shot you before, I will do it again! Keep your hands in the air.” I did. She touched her Com Link “I’m on the roof. I’ve got Derevko.” She looked at me sternly. “Get off the ledge.”

“I’ll tell you what you need to know now, Sydney.”

“Get off the ledge NOW!” She shouted.

I didn’t move, other than to stand up. Armand was right. It was windy. “Sloane believes he’s been chosen to realize the word of Rambaldi. But you too have been chosen.”

“If you think I’m bluffing…”

“It’s you in the prophecy, Sydney, not me. Only you can stop him.” I smiled at her. “Good luck, sweetheart.”

“Get down now!”

“I love you,” I said and fell backward off the roof. I pulled the automatic rifle and fired at the windows in front of me. According to Armand, I had only seconds once the bungee stopped and it pulled me back up past the same windows, to make my choice. I dropped the gun, reached behind my shoulder and pulled the dart gun to my front. I could hear a voice screaming and I guessed Sydney was in shock at the sight of her mother escaping in a rather bizarre manner.

I pulled the trigger on the dart gun just as I came up to an open window; it flew through it and struck the wall across the room a rope trailing behind it. I was slammed against the building, hard enough to jar my rib cage. I grabbed the rope and as it rose again, used it to get into the building. I divested myself of the equipment, letting fall. I wouldn’t be needing it. That was something I hoped I’d never have to do again.

My holsters still held my guns. I checked my loads and knew I still had a few shots left if I needed them. I walked to the office door and peeked out. No one was anywhere near, although I could hear a vacuum cleaner near. That explained why the lights were on…janitors cleaning the offices. Its noise covered the sound of the glass breaking.

I made it to the elevator. I was on the 19th floor. Looking up, I saw that the car was up on the 47th floor. Someone would be coming down. I had to hurry. I pried the doors open. I leapt for the cables, grabbed them, then began to descend in a quick manner. I reached the bottom and jumped down. There was a service door on the same side as the entry and exit doors to the elevator. I pried it open and stepped out. No one was around. There was a long corridor that went off to the right.

The exit led to the garage. I didn’t have a car there so ran up the ramps—there were two which led to the first floor entrance. I ran by the empty guard box and turned left. It was fortunate that it was very late, almost two in the morning, because there was very little foot traffic. I hurried down two blocks to the car I’d rented. I had more confidence in leaving it on the street here in the financial district of the city than anywhere else. I entered the car after putting both guns under my seat.

Frederick was waiting at the airport and I gave him instructions as to when I would arrive. He was to bribe the customs officials as usual. I was going to head for London. I had an apartment there. I was on the lam as Jack kiddingly said once. I had to go in hiding, because Sloane would not be happy the way things turned out. Sark captured and facing prison; Jack rescued; and Sydney still after him—and me. I had to minmize all of my contacts and stay ‘under the radar.’

I wondered if I would ever see her—or Jack again.


RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Chyort - damn

:cool:
 
She does love Sydney and is trying to keep her safe. Too bad she couldn't protect her when she really needed it. She was too busy going under the radar.
 
!r!nab Posted Jan 23 2008, 01:14 PM
whoa. getting nearer to Season 3..... (NOT that i'm anticipating lauren )
I doubt Lauren will even be mentioned!

mbellsdiva Posted Jan 24 2008, 09:40 PM
She does love Sydney and is trying to keep her safe. Too bad she couldn't protect her when she really needed it. She was too busy going under the radar.
Self-preservation!

MariaPurt Posted Today, 12:02 PM
Nice chapter, and well, looking forward to knpw what happened to Irina while season three was bombing us with its secrets.
Get ready!

:cool:
 
Author’s Notes: In season three of Alias, we did not see Irina. Although we found out in Season 4 what happened, nothing other than the computer emails traded by Jack and Irina were the only indication that she was alive and well. So rather than back-track when we get to Season 4, I’m carrying on with her story as little as there was during the third season. We also learned that Jack was still married to her. He still didn’t have the marriage annulled nor did he divorce her.

Because she was in hiding, writing a journal on a day to day basis was not feasible since each day was almost the same. So we dispensed with dates during this period of time also.


PART VII – HUNTERS AND HUNTED

2002
Irina is 51


1. Vienna


I was on the run, but slipped into London under the radar of any intelligence group who was looking for me. I went through customs wearing dark glasses, blonde wig, and using a cane. I was only given a cursory glance as the customs official stamped my passport which was under the name Gail Kutsnova from the Ukraine, a business woman, but who was on holiday. It is a good idea never to give too much information about oneself when dealing with customs officials who have not received a bribe.

I found a taxi and had him take me to the Bedford Mews where my apartment was located. I had called ahead to have my housekeeper open it up and get some food there. The apartment had been mine for about five years and I’d hired a woman to be its caretaker when I wasn’t there. I’d not used it for much other than to take a few days off from my lucrative endeavors to rest.

Entering the apartment, I found it aired out and heat warming up the rooms. I had a bedroom, bath, kitchen and large family living room. Since I’d never spent more than a week in it, I was now looking at living here for several months. I had to lay low, keeping myself off the intelligence community’s radar. Sloane probably was doing the same. The problem was he was looking for me also.

I set about a routine that would keep me physically healthy, but keeping me in a low profile. Hyde Park was a few blocks away which meant my daily running would not be hard to keep up. I found a gym that I could use near Piccadilly Circus and that would occupy some of my day. I didn’t want to stand out or be any where someone who might be looking would see me. I purchased some computer equipment to use and set it up in a corner of my living room. I could keep up with news and stay in touch with the world.

It wasn’t long before I had my daily routine down pat. Up early to start a run for five miles, followed by breakfast and The London Times newspaper. I usually ended my run near a newsstand where I also purchased Izvetsia which was a Russian newspaper and the New York Times. I had plenty of time in the morning to read them almost cover to cover.

The afternoons started with a lunch followed by a two-hour workout at the gym, then afternoon tea about four, followed by either a movie, or a three hour stint on my computer. Dinner was late followed by a television program or two and then to bed. The next day began all over again.

Two weeks later I was as buff as I’d ever been. I felt lean and well-conditioned. Those months in the glass cage in Los Angeles had not left me in good shape. However now I felt able to take on anyone. In fact at the gym I found someone who liked kick-boxing and was able to work out with them. I might be fifty one plus but I gave the man more than he could handle.

I’d been in London a month when one morning lingering over my tea I came across a personal ad that startled me.

“Distinguished Mozart music lover from Los Angeles is looking for Handel Music lover from Russia. Object: daughter.” There was an email address to use to contact him or her.

I thought about it the rest of the day. Who was that? Still the only one I could think of was Jack. We both liked classical music. He was a Mozart fan and I, a Handel fan. I don’t think anyone knew that. It was one of those private little things married people never discussed with friends—or at least we didn’t.

Jack! What did he want? I couldn’t come up with an answer, so I decided to get in touch with him tonight after dinner. It would be early afternoon in Los Angeles. He’d be at work, but knowing him, he’d know within minutes of my message.

At nine o’clock I sat down in front of the computer and sent an email to Mozart4me at the server I knew he used when we were married. He hadn’t changed it according to the ad’s return address.

“Glad to hear from you. What about Sydney?” I typed the message and knowing I probably would have to wait for him to know it was there.

“I need to see you,” he said an hour later.

“I miss you too, but unless you can guarantee my safety...no.”

“Guaranteed. It’s about Sydney.”

“What’s wrong?” My heart skipped a beat. I tried to tone down my fears.

“I want to talk to you in person.” He typed.

I paused and a minute went by. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Where can I see you?” He said.

“Vienna. The Hotel Oberhaus on Austraplatz. Tomorrow.”

“See you.”

I picked up my cell and made a call to Heathrow. There was a plane out to Vienna in the morning at 10:00, a two hour flight. I packed a few things since I didn’t expect to spend much time there. If Jack left within the next few hours, he’d be there a little before I arrived. I wanted him to be there first. It would give me a chance to check out the hotel and his room, because Jack never missed lunch unless he was on an assignment. There some regularity to my husband’s habits and I was assuming that had not changed.

I arrived at the hotel at noon. I rented a room and asked if there was a Jack Bristow registered. The clerk obliged my request along with the 100 Euro note and gave me his room number.

“I believe he’s in the café, Madame,” he added.

“That’s okay. I need to freshen up. Is there a shower or tub in the bathroom?” I asked nonchalantly. It turned his attention away as he glanced at his room chart.

“There’s a shower only.”

I nodded my thanks and key in hand, walked to the elevator. My suite was on the third floor also.

Ten minutes later, after leaving my bag, I was in his room, having picked the lock. I looked around. There was no suitcase. Checking the closet, there were no clothes. Evidently he’d planned to give me the message and leave. Well that was good. Perhaps Sydney was getting married and he wanted me to know. I could wait. He should be here in a few minutes.

It was just then that I heard the key in the lock. I stood back in the doorway where he wouldn’t see me, waiting. The door opened and he stepped inside. He stopped, looking around.

“Irina?” His voice sounded strained.

“Jack!” I stepped out of the bathroom and came up to face him.

We stared at each other. He was dressed in blue slacks, polo shirt and leather jacket. Neat but not looking quite as business-like as he did when he worked at CIA. I knew he liked what he saw. I was wearing a black pin-striped suit and red blouse. I smiled at him warmly. The man did something to me every time I saw him. I could see the same look in his eyes as he stared at me.

I told Sydney that I loved him and I think he did me at some level. Still I was the one who perpetrated the betrayals, so his love probably was not the same.

“Well, I’m here. What about Sydney? Is she getting married to Agent Vaughn?”

He sighed. “No. I just don’t know how else to say this—everyone thinks Sydney is dead.”

I heard the words and I didn’t. I couldn’t move. It was hard to breathe. Before I knew what I was doing, I slapped him—hard.

“I told you to get her out of CIA,” I screeched. Tears tumbled out and down my face. I gasped, stumbled and fell to my knees, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

“Irina, Irina, please!” He bent down and pulled me up. He held me, stroking my hair, as the tears didn’t seem to end.

My baby, my Sydney, dead? I was no longer a spy, criminal, terrorist. I was a mother who had lost a child. I felt his arms tighten around me. He was shushing me, trying to get me to stop.

“Irina, please!” He whispered.

“Oh Jack,” I sobbed. “Why, why didn’t you...”

“I’m afraid you were part of her wanting to stay. She wanted to capture you as well as Sloane. You escaped from her in Mexico City and...” He paused. “Hush, hush now. Let me tell you what I think happened.”

I leaned back from his shoulder. “Think...think? Don’t you know?”

“Let me talk, damn it.” He held onto me and sat me on the bed next to him. “It happened after she returned from Mexico City. We don’t know everything, but there was a fire in her apartment and it was bad enough that she was burned beyond recognition. Francie was the double, wasn’t she?”

“Yes! Sloane had her killed the night he disappeared.” I was sniffling. He handed me his handkerchief.

“That explains a lot. Anyway Will Tippin was found alive in the bathtub and told us that the doubled Francie had knifed him. I think Sydney thought the two were in love. Anyway Sydney’s body was found in her bedroom. It was a wonder the entire apartment house didn’t go up in flames, but the fire department prevented that.

“Vaughn drove up just as the fire trucks did and it was all the firemen could do to keep him from dashing inside after her.”

“Oh moy boje,” I said softly, thinking about him. We didn’t like each other, but I truly believed he was deeply in love with Sydney.

“We think Sydney learned from a phone message Will left her that Francie was the double. The two of them fought. Francie’s body was not found, so we think she escaped, possibly setting the room on fire.”

“I’ll kill her,” I said.

“No! We don’t know where she is anyway. We think the Covenant may be responsible, but again it’s speculation. However, Sydney was buried at sea three weeks ago.”

‘Why aren’t you going after her killers?”

“Because I don’t think she’s dead!” He shouted, trying to get through to me. “I did say everyone thinks...she’s dead. I don’t.”

I gasped. “What makes you think differently?”

“A hunch, but no one in the intelligence community will believe it!” He stood and pulled me up with him. “Someone removed the faux Francie; they probably took Sydney too.”

“But why would they want her?” I asked.

“They’ll try to turn her. They’ll use any method they can to break her, to make her believe she’s someone else. In other words, Irina, brainwash her.”

My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. “She won’t turn, will she?” I said.

“No, I’m positive she won’t.”

“Project Christmas!” I said, remembering some of the techniques Jack proposed when he drew up his plan to turn children into spies for the U.S., but not as children, but adults when the time came.

“Yes! I know Sydney. I trained her. She will not break.”

“Thank God,” I whispered.

“Irina, I need you to help me. I want you to believe that she is alive. I do. I think they wanted her for that reason. You have contacts, informants, and connections with criminal organizations that will give us access to information, right?”

“Y-yes!” I blew my nose. “You have files?”

He walked to the chair by the door where he’d dropped his briefcase when entering the room earlier. “There’s not much room here.”

“I have a suite down the hall. It definitely has two chairs and a table.”

Moments later we were in my room. Jack pulled up a chair to the table and opened the briefcase. He handed me files he’d copied. “These are yours. I could go to prison for this but I don’t care. I want to find Sydney.”

“I did not include the names of my contacts and...” he paused, “...I don’t want to know yours. We probably do not have the same people...and this way, they will be safe.”

“Yes, thank you.” I had been apprehensive, but his solution was fine with me.

We spent more than three hours going over everything in the files as well as what every contact Jack made had said. There was nothing. I thought I might get some information, because Katya, who had not joined the Covenant, might be able to find out something that would help us. If she didn’t find out anything however I had many more I could get information from if I was careful. Unfortunately there was a price on my head and a miss-step would or could mean capture. Still I was going to try. If Jack believed Sydney was not dead, then I would believe also.

We finally finished talking, having exhausted the topic. Jack looked at me “It is now going to be up to you mostly. I’ll help you anyway you need me.” He smiled, glancing at his watch. “How about some dinner before you go?”

“I would love some.” I stood. “Where do you suggest?”

“Let’s eat here. Neither of us can risk being spotted. Lunch was good.” He smiled. “My treat.”

I laughed. “Thanks. May I take these with me when I leave?” I pointed at the files.

“No, I’m going to pack them in my briefcase and take it to dinner with us. I’m not going to chance that anyone would find them. I’ll give them to you when you leave...after dinner.”

We walked down to the café which was not busy and had a long, leisurely dinner with a bottle of Riesling. We’d decided we couldn’t talk about Sydney out in the open. It was better to confine conversation to the past. I asked about friends and neighbors. Jack, it turned out, had never moved.

“Jack,” I put my hand over his, “I don’t understand. Why did you stay?”

“Because I liked the house and I have paid off the mortgage. It’s a comfortable home.”

I stared at him. “But...”

“It was my decision, Irina. I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”

I shrugged and sipped my wine. It was only his decision. I had no claim to the house. My extraction and his subsequent knowledge of my secret life had left me nothing.

We finished dinner and made one important decision. We would concentrate our efforts in two ways: first, if Sydney was alive, we had to find where she was and second, if she truly was dead, we swore together we would find her killers. Both of us though had to be careful. If the CIA found out, Jack would be arrested and sent to prison for consorting with the enemy. Never mind the fact I was Sydney’s mother that wouldn’t matter to them. Then there was always the possibility I’d be spotted and taken prisoner.

We went back to his room. He opened the briefcase and took out the copy of the files.
“Take these and don’t let anything happen to them. Be careful. We know very little about who or why anyone did this.”

“Of course, Jack.” I began to tear up. Having those awful files in my hands brought back everything that we’d not talked about while dining.

Suddenly I was in his arms and his mouth closed over mine. We stood together kissing as though it was 1971 again and we were both young, falling in love. I clutched him around his neck, savoring the taste of his mouth on mine. I felt the heat rising. I wanted him, but wondered, briefly, if he did me.

We broke apart and looked at each other, searching for answers. Well, why not? We both had sustained a loss. We were the parents. “Jack? Do you want to take off my clothes?”
I looked into his face and saw the desire there. He stepped back and gently wiped the tears from my face. He removed my jacket and unbuttoned my blouse. His mouth found that erotic spot beneath my ear and jaw. I gave a little shudder. I began to tear up as he removed my blouse and dropped it. The bra came next. He looked at me.

“Now, now,” he whispered, “don’t cry. I didn’t think Irina Derevko ever cried?”

“I—I can’t h—help it.” I was remembering our past encounter in Panama and the deceitful way I’d betrayed him.

I was naked from the waist up. Jack bent down and kissed my breasts, sucking at the nipples each time. I gasped, feeling it down to my center. I stood quietly as he pulled down the skirt. It dropped of its own accord from my hips. He then put his hands on my waist, hooking his thumbs at the waistband of my slip and drawing it down until it too dropped on top of my other clothing.

Now I was clothed only in my briefs and panty-hose. He stared into my eyes, which only gave him the love I thought he needed and I wanted to give. He took me in his arms again and kissed me with emotion I recognized. It was that which came from the agony we both felt losing that which had made any sense of our marriage, job, or missions—Sydney. I could feel his heart beating as mine did.

“Jack,” I said, “I’m not a nice person. I’ve done some pretty awful things these past thirty years—betraying you and more. I told Sydney once that I loved you both.”

“I’m aware of some of them, Irina. The ten years we had together were the best—and the worst. I never stopped loving you either.”

He kissed the nipples of my breasts again as he hooked his hands at the top of my panty hose and briefs which he then drew down to the floor in a hurry. I was naked. He took off his jacket, eyes never leaving mine. I reached out and unbuttoned his shirt. He took it off as I unbuckled his pants, drawing down the zipper. They fell to the floor. Kissing me again, he nodded at the bed. I slipped in between the sheets as he removed his boxer shorts. He was swollen and rock hard.

We made love a couple of times that night. It was intense, wild and immensely satisfying. I went to sleep with Jack’s arms around me and I felt safe again.

“Irina! Irina! Wake up!” Jack stood next to the bed, already dressed.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“You have time to shower and dress before breakfast. I have a plane to catch before noon.”

A half hour later we were sitting at a table in the café having breakfast. Jack looked at me, “You know, I think Sydney would have approved.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Can we get together again?” I asked, hardly daring to hear his answer, but wanting it nevertheless.

“We need to keep meetings to the bare minimum, but contact me by email anytime.”

He was right, of course, damn it! “Of course.”

“If you find out anything, any hint or word, I’ll come to you. It would be far too dangerous for you to fly to the U.S.”

I nodded. I finished my tea and glancing at my watch saw that it was nearly eleven. “You need to go, milochka.” I put my hand over his. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He asked.

“Last night.” I leaned forward and kissed him. “I’ll be in touch.” He nodded, slipped out of the booth and disappeared out into the street.

RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Milochka – darling
Moy boje – my God
 
2. Warsaw

It had been three months since I saw Jack. We’d communicated several times, but had nothing of importance to report. That changed. I had contacted Zoya who was in Warsaw and one of my people. Since the operation shut down, she was therefore surprised to hear from me.

“Irina! How are you? Where are you?” Those had been her first words since my leaving for the U.S.

I told her that I’d been a captive of the CIA and had escaped as she probably heard. I was in hiding, but needed help on another matter.

“Of course,” she answered without even asking what.

I appreciated the promptness with which she answered. “I’m looking for information.” I told her I needed anything she would hear about brainwashing, specifically someone who specialized in it and if they did, where were they to be contacted.

She took the information as well as how to contact me. I let her know and warned her to be careful. The man we were looking for could be dangerous or, at least, the people around him could be. Zoya told me not to worry that she knew she would have to be especially since she was doing it for Irina Derevko.

I didn’t hear from her for several weeks; then I had an email. She thought she had found someone who knew a doctor who was a specialist. However he wanted money for the information and it was too much for her to handle on her own.

“No problem.” I replied and asked, “How much?”

“Fifty thousand Euros.”

I was surprised. “Does he guarantee his information? Is he reliable?”

“Ummm, I think so, but there is no way I can guarantee it.”

Thinking about it, I decided to get the money and email Jack. “I want to set up a meeting. I’ll get the money.”

Jack responded two days later. He was on an assignment and didn’t get back to pick up his personal email until then. “I’m going with you.” He said. “What hotel?”

“Campanile,” I said, “in the heart of the city and a five to ten minute walk to the railroad station.” I planned to arrange the meeting with our informant near there if not inside.

“When?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.”

Zoya was my next communication. I called her from an untraceable cell phone. “Have you talked to your informant?”

“Yes, Irina. He says he will give you the information wherever you wish to meet.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jan Wolchak.”

I didn’t know him. “There’s an alley, about a block west of the railroad station, next to a boarded up café. Tell him to be there at eleven p.m. If he’s five minutes late, there’s no deal. Tell him to wear a red scarf.” I hung up and dropped it into the sewer. I hailed a taxi and told him to take me to Gatwick Airport. I had booked a flight on a small Polish airline.

Arriving in Warsaw four hours later, I had a taxi take me to the Campanile, where I registered as Mrs. Jonathan Donahue. I explained that my husband was flying in later having had to come from the U.S. The bellboy took my small bag, but I held on to the briefcase. It had the money for our informant. I’d stopped by a bank which had some of my funds under a different name.

I ordered some wine and pouring myself a glass, walked to the window which fronted the street below. I was unable to see the entrance as there was a canopy that blocked my view. Jack should be arriving soon. It was dark outside. We were supposed to meet our informant in three hours.

There was a knock at the door. “Irina?” I heard his voice, but checked the peep hole. I opened the door.

Jack entered and put his small travel suitcase down. “How are you?” He gave me a hug.

“Fine. Any problems leaving the job?”

“No, just told Lindsey I had so much vacation time coming that I wanted five days off. He approved it immediately. I think everyone is tired of seeing me in a foul mood. They’ve written Sydney off and they all know I don’t like it, no matter what
DNA evidence they say they have.”

I felt good in his arms, but broke away when he’d finished. “I can imagine.”

“Who is the informant?”

“Zoya said his name is Jan Wolchak, but doesn’t know him personally.” I went to the table and poured him a glass. “Drink this. It will warm you up.”

He inclined his head and took the glass. “Do you want dinner?”

“Good idea, we can eat here or elsewhere.”

Jack smiled. “Here would be safer. I don’t want to be around too many people. It isn’t safe for you...or me.”

“Let’s go now.” I said.

We returned to our room about ten. I went to my suitcase and changed clothes. I wore my comfortable work clothes: black pants, shirt, and a fleece-lined jacket which I put on over my shoulder holstered Glock 9mm. I was not planning to go unarmed. Jack nodded his approval.

“How do you want to do this?” I said.

“I’ll go first,” glancing at his watch. “I’ll be in the alley. You, my dear, do not go any further than twenty-five feet. I’m sure you’ll find sufficient cover. You have the money?”

“Of course.”

He grinned. “Be sure you hide where it’s easy to confront him...and be careful.”

“Jack—I am not stupid.”

“Well, there’s some debate about that, considering you’re on the run and in hiding.” He feigned being afraid.

“Humph!” I knew he was taunting me. “Maybe if Sydney had gone after Sloane instead of chasing me, he’d be in prison and she’d be married. That girl is stubborn.”

He turned grim, “Yes, but that stubbornness will see her through the nightmare she’s experiencing.”

I swallowed. “You think she’s alive?”

“Yes, don’t you?”

I nodded, “but there’s been no word—nothing really to confirm that. The name we get tonight is our first lead to Sydney if she’s alive, in over three months.” A tear generated down my cheek.

Jack pulled me to him, hugging me. “Irina, she’s alive...I know it! Just have faith in her abilities.”

I leaned forward on his chest. “Yes, I will.” God, how I loved to feel his arms around me.

“Have you the link?” He asked.

I turned and walked to my suitcase and removed the two Com links. The power pack I sat on the small table. It had an immense range. I gave a link to Jack and inserted one into my right ear. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” Jack walked to me, lifted my face and looked into my eyes. “Believe,” and gently kissed me. “I’ve got to go.” He turned and left the room.

I waited ten minutes. I stood checking my ability to pull my gun fast with my briefcase in my left hand. I did it well enough to boost my confidence in being able to handle any situation that might arise tonight. Jack and I were going in absolutely cold having not cased the alley at all. I’d given Zoya the directions but had not seen that alley for a few years.

Leaving the hotel by the side entrance away from the front desk and any curious onlookers, I walked back up to the street in front of the hotel and turned right. It took me five minutes to get to the station which was not busy at this time of night. I passed it, walking another block. The alley was up ahead, but damn, the café I thought closed, had a light from the window and a neon sign going.

We’d have to deal with this. Hopefully no one would exit from the café in the front or from the kitchen. I turned into the alley and walked about twenty paces. At this point, I looked around for some place where the contact wouldn’t see me first. There was a large empty box with several smaller ones piled up around it. They afforded me a niche of darkness which I took advantage of instantly.

“Jack?” I glanced at my watch. It was ten minutes until Jan Wolchak was supposed to enter the alley.

“I’m here. Where are you?”

“Boxes about twenty five paces inside the alley, just past the café’s kitchen exit.”

“Okay, going silent.”

I stood quietly in the dark. Noise came from the café, but it was muted. I was sure they were doing clean-up and getting ready to close. I could see shadows moving about in the window which was located high up in the wall. I hoped Jan Wolchak and I would finish our business before anyone left.

Standing alone and waiting, my mind drifted to Sydney. If Jack was right and she was being brainwashed, where was it being done? I knew very little about The Covenant, but I was sure I’d know some of those involved. According to Katya, there were many ex-KGB men and women who were members. Fortunately for her, Katya had decided not to be a part of the group. She like managing my money and the money she was making as a result for herself. Things might have to change. She could be a valuable asset inside the Covenant.

Perhaps if I got a name I could contact her to find out if the name meant anything to her. I sincerely hoped Jack was right and the Project Christmas training he’d done to Sydney would prove to be her being able to stay alive. I’d come to know that Jack was very thorough. She’d survive anything.

Suddenly there was a noise from the entrance to the alley. I peeked around the box and saw a shadow walking toward me. The street light was behind him and I caught a glint of something in his right hand. The fool was armed by either a knife or gun. I pulled my Glock, took the silencer from my left pocket and screwed it on.

He was approaching slowly. When he was next to me, I stepped out to confront him. “Jan Wolchak?”

“Yes,” he answered, momentarily startled.

“Name!” I demanded.

“Money,” he said.

I shoved the case at him so that he was forced to take it in both hands. His right held a gun. He fumbled it and grabbed the briefcase with his left, swinging the gun up. I kicked him in the knee with the sharp toe of my boot. He cried out and dropped to the ground, his gun flying out of his hand

Putting my own gun in his face, I said, “I want the name, you idiot.”

He moaned. “Oleg Madrczyk.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” He held onto his knee. “I only know he is a specialist in brain functions.”

“You have...”

I was interrupt by shrill whistles and shouts. Looking up, I saw four men enter the alley followed by a police vehicle. They were in uniforms of the police. felgercarb! I grabbed the briefcase. “You won’t need this.” I turned and ran, keeping to the same side of the alley I was on. “Jack!”

“I see them. Keep coming. They haven’t seen you yet.”

I knew it wouldn’t be long, because there were some boxes piled up and I had to go around them. Whistles blew and men shouted, but I didn’t stop. I ran past the boxes and there was Jack.

“Keep going,” he said, “the alley ends at the next street, maybe two hundred feet.”

I kept running, but heard a noise as the boxes and garbage cans tumbled out into the center of the alley, followed by a fusillade of shots. Jack was covering my escape. I left the alley and kept running back in the direction of the railroad station. I had to enter it and immediately slowed down. I should have killed that swine. If anything happened to Jack, I would hunt him down.

I crossed through the station and out the entrance. There was no activity from the direction of the alley, so I fast walked my way back to the hotel, entering it the same way I’d left. I didn’t meet anyone on my way to my room. I let myself in and threw the briefcase onto the bed. I walked to the table and poured myself a glass of wine as I waited for Jack.

The sweat I felt on my face wasn’t from exertion, but from the close call I’d had. I’m glad I didn’t kill Wolchak. That might have been too dangerous. Still Wolchak would tell them that Irina Derevko was in their city. They would cover Chopin International airport, all bus and train terminals. I knew the picture of me was the one furnished by the CIA. I could wear a disguise or even leave by car if necessary. Perhaps I would anyway.

There was a knock at the door. I went to the peephole and saw it was Jack. I unlocked the door and grabbed him, slamming the door and locking it behind us. “You okay?” I asked, staring at him.

“I’m fine!” He smiled. “He gave you the name?”

I nodded my head. “Oleg Madrczyk. I’ve not heard of him.”

He frowned, taking the glass of wine I poured for him.” No, I haven’t either. I suppose he didn’t give us an address.”

Sighing, I shook my head. “What happened in the alley, I didn’t turn around.”

“The police had to duck when I sprayed the alley with my gun. Your client wisely kept down. They scattered and I ran back to the end. I saw you a full block away heading for the railroad station. I hurried after you.”

“What now?”

“We stay put for the night and leave in the morning. What about the money?”

“I’ll redeposit it in the morning before I leave.”

“Irina, Jan will have told the police that you are in their city. They are going to pull out all the stops to get you. Forget the plane or any other mode of transportation, except for automobile. I’m fairly conversant in Polish. We’ll drive to Berlin and fly out from there. Do you have other clothes and can you leave these here without it creating a problem?”

I knew he was right. On with the disguise and of course the maid would be delighted with the clothes she found. “Okay, whatever you say.”

He yawned and put glass down. “Now, I think, we should get some sleep.”

“Jack, I can’t...”

“I’m too tired, Irina. We don’t need to have sex every time we meet.”

I blushed, but immediately stripped. I slipped beneath the sheets. Jack followed in a minute. We both fell asleep instantly.

I was awakened by Jack kissing me under my ear and jaw. He wanted sex and so did I. I slid under him. I felt his hard penis on my stomach. I opened my legs. He slid down, kissing me every inch of the way. I was shivering with expectation.

“I’m ready,” I breathed.

He entered me hard and thrusting in and out. I joined him in a rhythmic dance. It was only a minute or two before I knew I’d peaked. “I’m coming.” I cried. He shoved his penis deep and hard. I threw my legs over his buttocks holding on for dear life as I crashed.

“frack! frack!” I screamed as Jack deposited his fluid inside me. I didn’t let him go and seconds later, I came again.

He pulled out and moved up. We kissed. My arms went around his neck. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I love you, Jack.”

“Do you?” He responded. “You have a funny way of showing it.” He stared down at me.

“I know, but the years with you and Sydney were the best years of my life. Why don’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you, Irina. That’s why you’re here and the only reason. I can trust you with this.”

“But nothing else?”

He laughed and rolled off. ‘I’m going to shower. While you get ready, I’ll arrange for a car and check us out. Go out the side entrance so they don’t see you at the front desk.”

He was in and out of the shower in minutes. He dressed in the business suit he’d arrived in the day before. I showered, changed into the clothes I’d worn yesterday. I then put on the blond wig and put on the make-up as well as contact lenses which were blue. I looked entirely different from the woman who’d checked into the room last evening. I wiped down everything I’d touched as a precaution. I hung the clothes I’d worn the night before in the closet.

Leaving a tip for the maid, I left to join Jack. It’d been forty minutes. Sure enough, he was in a rented Ford Taurus, waiting. I jumped in the car and after depositing the money back in my bank, we left Warsaw. We drove all day and entered Germany without any trouble. Jack told me that police and intelligence agents had covered airport, train stations, bus depots and major highways, but we didn’t run into any of them because he was familiar with a road out of Warsaw that he doubted the police would cover. They hadn’t and we made our escape.

In Berlin, we bought tickets for our respective destinations: I to London and he to Los Angeles. Mine left first and we said goodbye at a bar before I went through security. He had to wait a few hours and was planning to make some inquiries about Madrczyk from some of his contacts. I would do the same when I got to London.

“Take care, Irina,” he said. “Contact me if you hear of anything.”

“Of course.” I finished my drink. “I’d better go.”

“I hope this will lead to something concrete,” he said thinking about Madrczyk.

“Me too! Goodbye, Jack.” I turned and left him standing watching me.

I returned safely to London and to my apartment.


3. St. Petersburg

It took me nearly two weeks before I got a lead to Madrczyk. According to my source, he was born in St. Petersburg and had a home there. I couldn’t believe he would take Sydney there if it was he who was in charge of brainwashing her. Still it had to be checked out. I wrote to Jack by email, routed through the usual servers.

“Don’t go by yourself.” He said as an answer.

“Why not? I know St. Pete almost as well as Moscow.” I did too! I was very partial to the former Leningrad and it was probably second only to the city of my birth.

“You need back up. You’re now #5 on the most wanted list. You’d probably be lower except that Sloane’s giving himself up and making a deal, upped your—ummm—worth.”

Damn him. I thought I could visualize him chuckling. “It has to be you then.” I kept my voice emotionless.

There was a pause. “How sure are you of this information?”

“Probably slightly less than 99 percent.”

“Good. I’ll leave tonight. I should be there,” I could see him looking at his watch, “about two in the afternoon.”

“I’ll be at the airport and meet you.”

I flew into St. Petersburg that morning. I was using the Laura Donahue passport. I had no trouble going through security and made my way to the 30A’s waiting room. According to the announcements inside, the flight from New York was due in 90 minutes. I was eager to see Jack even though it’d been less than a month.

Under any other circumstances I realized we would be friendly enemies, but this was all about Sydney and her welfare. Jack was positive she would not be broken and I had to believe him. Of course the belief was predicated on her being still alive. I had done some online research and had located the Madrczyk home on the outskirts of St. Petersburg. I had the address and rented a car. I had only to wait for Jack’s arrival, before we set out for Oleg’s home.

I saw Jack before he saw me. He carried a briefcase and was wearing a hat. It was cool as winter was approaching. I stood and followed him a few paces before slipping my left arm through his right. “Good trip?”

“Yes! Where to?”

“Rental cars. I’ve rented one for us. Avis.”

“Good. American I hope.”

“Ford Taurus.”

He glanced at me for the first time and nearly stopped. “Good lord.”

I was dressed in a clinging red dress which stopped at mid-thigh, knee high black boots, and a faux sable coat. I topped it off with a blond wig with long curly hair that was a little longer than shoulder length. I had on dangling gold earrings that were nearly four inches long. My makeup was somewhat garish also, but matched the outlandish garb I wore. I had a tote that I’d slung over my shoulder.

“What are you supposed to be?” Jack said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Over-dressed tourist.” I motioned to a camera around my neck.

“I’ll say and in spades,” he answered. “Which way to the rental cars?”

We’d come to the end of the concourse. “Follow me,” I said, turning to the right.

At the rental desk, I presented my copy of the rental agreement and was handed the keys to a black Taurus. I handed them over to Jack. I took the map from the agent. Hopefully we’d have little trouble finding Oleg’s home.

It took us thirty minutes, but Jack turned inside the apartment complex and parked. “What now,” he asked.

“We go up and knock.”

“You have any way to get in?” I looked at him in an ‘are you kidding’ way. He grinned. “I should have known.”

I led the way to the entrance. Oleg’s home apartment was on the fourth floor. There was no elevator which meant we hoofed it all the way. Although neither of us was out of breath by the time we arrived at his door, Jack had a bit of sweat on his forehead. I knocked and stood in front of the peephole just in case Oleg was at home. He didn’t answer.

Jack stood guard as I bent over with my picks and unlocked the door. We didn’t move once inside. I pulled out a pair of latex gloves and handed them to him; then pulled on a pair myself. The apartment was dark. I reached for the light switch and flipped it on. The light flooded the living area which was like many others. There was a dining area at one end near the kitchen area, which was open and not enclosed.

Jack looked around to make sure there were no tight wires or string. Nothing—no booby traps! I was grateful, but it also meant there was nothing here for him to hide. He was not here, but neither was Sydney.

“She’s not here,” said Jack.

“Yes, I know. Let’s search for any information.”

“I’ll take the bedroom,” he said, “you check in here.”

It was interesting to note Oleg had very little written material. He did have books. Most of them dealt with the brain, psychological effects of programming the brain, and assorted related subjects. I went through each book, carefully fluttering the pages. Nothing fell out and the small desk was devoid of any paper at all.

Jack joined me in an hour. “I’ve found nothing. The only indication we have is that he’s gone! I’m going to check with the neighbors.”

“Be careful. We don’t want to spook him if he does show up and the neighbors talk.”

“I know.” Jack said. I think he thought I was stupid to even think he’d leave any trace of his being here.

I continued the search, but there was nothing. He might be our man yet there was nothing to indicate he was connected to The Covenant. Jack was back in less than 30 minutes. He too was stumped. The neighbors knew nothing. In fact, two out of the four he’d talked too didn’t even know Oleg.

“Now what?” I said.

“I go back home and we keep probing for information.” Jack looked determined.

“When’s your flight?”

“This afternoon...about two hours from now.”

“I’ll go with you.” I said, putting my hand in his.

He looked at me. “It’s too dangerous. If anyone sees you...”

I shrugged. I was tired and perhaps a bit cranky. Things had not worked out and we still knew nothing about Sydney...alive or...dead. “Don’t argue. I’m coming.”


When I left Jack, I returned to the center of the city. The camera which was a prop, I promised it to a young teenager, if he watched the car. I walked down Nevsky Prospekt looking in the store windows. I stopped at a bookstore called Dom Knigi and went inside. I might find something written by Oleg Madrczyk, because if he was university trained, he could have written a paper or book.

There was a young man standing behind a desk in the center of the room. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. He looked at me quizzically.

“I’m just browsing,” I said with a wide smile.

He melted. “If there’s anything I can do, just ask.”

“Thank you. I’m interested in old books—very old books.”

“We have many.” He pointed to the rear. “I believe there are some boxes that we haven’t even opened yet. Someone dropped them off. We aren’t exactly a library, but the boss said we should look at them first. He’s been ill and hasn’t had a chance and I’m the only one here.”

I believe he was going to tell me his life history as well as that of his boss. “Thank you. I may browse through them.”

I’m not sure why I came inside the store. There didn’t seem to be any premonition that I’d find anything, but I spent a good hour browsing through the book shelves. I didn’t find anything by Madrczyk. There were some good books there, but not by him. I turned my attention to the two dusty cartons lying on the floor.

Opening the first, I noted some old, old books that looked to be first editions. They were by Russian authors, so I wasn’t interested, but I would tell the clerk. I opened the second box and began sorting through the books inside.

Lifting the last book off the top layer, I paused. There was a very old book which I pulled out carefully. It was in a leather binder, but old and cracked.

I turned it over and looked at the front of the book. There was only one thing on the front.
<o>
The mark of Rambaldi! I stood and looked around. I could hear the clerk. He was talking on the phone. I opened to the first page. I could not translate what I saw, but I knew what it was—the red ball, just like the ones Sydney had taken and destroyed. I know my heart was beating faster than it ever done before. I grasped the book and kneeled again in front of the box. I returned the other books to the box, arranging them so no one would suspect I’d taken one. I folded the lids on that box and then placed the other box on top.

Glancing behind me, I saw the clerk was still on the phone. I thought for a moment; then placed the book tightly under my left armpit. I had to give him something of interest. I wanted him to be a hero. He hung up the phone just then.

“Hi, did you find anything?” He looked at me.

“Nothing I wanted, but I think you’ve got some money-makers in those two boxes. There are some first editions and perhaps a rare book or two. I would suggest you bring those boxes up here for safe-keeping. Call your boss. Tell him you went through the boxes and what you found.”

“Thanks!” His eyes lighted up. “Ummm, would you mind staying here for a moment, while I bring them here?”

“Of course not.”

He had both boxes back in a minute and put them down at his feet. “I appreciate your telling me.”

“Think nothing of it. Have a good day,” I smiled again and left.

I retrieved my car and drove off, heading for the airport. My heart was pounding as I contemplated what my discovery meant.

TBC ;)
 
3. St. Petersburg

It took me nearly two weeks before I got a lead to Madrczyk. According to my source, he was born in St. Petersburg and had a home there. I couldn’t believe he would take Sydney there if it was he who was in charge of brainwashing her. Still it had to be checked out. I wrote to Jack by email, routed through the usual servers.

“Don’t go by yourself.” He said as an answer.

“Why not? I know St. Pete almost as well as Moscow.” I did too! I was very partial to the former Leningrad and it was probably second only to the city of my birth.

“You need back up. You’re now #5 on the most wanted list. You’d probably be lower except that Sloane’s giving himself up and making a deal, upped your—ummm—worth.”

Damn him. I thought I could visualize him chuckling. “It has to be you then.” I kept my voice emotionless.

There was a pause. “How sure are you of this information?”

“Probably slightly less than 99 percent.”

“Good. I’ll leave tonight. I should be there,” I could see him looking at his watch, “about two in the afternoon.”

“I’ll be at the airport and meet you.”

I flew into St. Petersburg that morning. I was using the Laura Donahue passport. I had no trouble going through security and made my way to the 30A’s waiting room. According to the announcements inside, the flight from New York was due in 90 minutes. I was eager to see Jack even though it’d been less than a month.

Under any other circumstances I realized we would be friendly enemies, but this was all about Sydney and her welfare. Jack was positive she would not be broken and I had to believe him. Of course the belief was predicated on her being still alive. I had done some online research and had located the Madrczyk home on the outskirts of St. Petersburg. I had the address and rented a car. I had only to wait for Jack’s arrival, before we set out for Oleg’s home.

I saw Jack before he saw me. He carried a briefcase and was wearing a hat. It was cool as winter was approaching. I stood and followed him a few paces before slipping my left arm through his right. “Good trip?”

“Yes! Where to?”

“Rental cars. I’ve rented one for us. Avis.”

“Good. American I hope.”

“Ford Taurus.”

He glanced at me for the first time and nearly stopped. “Good lord.”

I was dressed in a clinging red dress which stopped at mid-thigh, knee high black boots, and a faux sable coat. I topped it off with a blond wig with long curly hair that was a little longer than shoulder length. I had on dangling gold earrings that were nearly four inches long. My makeup was somewhat garish also, but matched the outlandish garb I wore. I had a tote that I’d slung over my shoulder.

“What are you supposed to be?” Jack said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Over-dressed tourist.” I motioned to a camera around my neck.

“I’ll say and in spades,” he answered. “Which way to the rental cars?”

We’d come to the end of the concourse. “Follow me,” I said, turning to the right.

At the rental desk, I presented my copy of the rental agreement and was handed the keys to a black Taurus. I handed them over to Jack. I took the map from the agent. Hopefully we’d have little trouble finding Oleg’s home.

It took us thirty minutes, but Jack turned inside the apartment complex and parked. “What now,” he asked.

“We go up and knock.”

“You have any way to get in?” I looked at him in an ‘are you kidding’ way. He grinned. “I should have known.”

I led the way to the entrance. Oleg’s home apartment was on the fourth floor. There was no elevator which meant we hoofed it all the way. Although neither of us was out of breath by the time we arrived at his door, Jack had a bit of sweat on his forehead. I knocked and stood in front of the peephole just in case Oleg was at home. He didn’t answer.

Jack stood guard as I bent over with my picks and unlocked the door. We didn’t move once inside. I pulled out a pair of latex gloves and handed them to him; then pulled on a pair myself. The apartment was dark. I reached for the light switch and flipped it on. The light flooded the living area which was like many others. There was a dining area at one end near the kitchen area, which was open and not enclosed.

Jack looked around to make sure there were no tight wires or string. Nothing—no booby traps! I was grateful, but it also meant there was nothing here for him to hide. He was not here, but neither was Sydney.

“She’s not here,” said Jack.

“Yes, I know. Let’s search for any information.”

“I’ll take the bedroom,” he said, “you check in here.”

It was interesting to note Oleg had very little written material. He did have books. Most of them dealt with the brain, psychological effects of programming the brain, and assorted related subjects. I went through each book, carefully fluttering the pages. Nothing fell out and the small desk was devoid of any paper at all.

Jack joined me in an hour. “I’ve found nothing. The only indication we have is that he’s gone! I’m going to check with the neighbors.”

“Be careful. We don’t want to spook him if he does show up and the neighbors talk.”

“I know.” Jack said. I think he thought I was stupid to even think he’d leave any trace of his being here.

I continued the search, but there was nothing. He might be our man yet there was nothing to indicate he was connected to The Covenant. Jack was back in less than 30 minutes. He too was stumped. The neighbors knew nothing. In fact, two out of the four he’d talked too didn’t even know Oleg.

“Now what?” I said.

“I go back home and we keep probing for information.” Jack looked determined.

“When’s your flight?”

“This afternoon...about two hours from now.”

“I’ll go with you.” I said, putting my hand in his.

He looked at me. “It’s too dangerous. If anyone sees you...”

I shrugged. I was tired and perhaps a bit cranky. Things had not worked out and we still knew nothing about Sydney...alive or...dead. “Don’t argue. I’m coming.”


When I left Jack, I returned to the center of the city. The camera which was a prop, I promised it to a young teenager, if he watched the car. I walked down Nevsky Prospekt looking in the store windows. I stopped at a bookstore called Dom Knigi and went inside. I might find something written by Oleg Madrczyk, because if he was university trained, he could have written a paper or book.

There was a young man standing behind a desk in the center of the room. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. He looked at me quizzically.

“I’m just browsing,” I said with a wide smile.

He melted. “If there’s anything I can do, just ask.”

“Thank you. I’m interested in old books—very old books.”

“We have many.” He pointed to the rear. “I believe there are some boxes that we haven’t even opened yet. Someone dropped them off. We aren’t exactly a library, but the boss said we should look at them first. He’s been ill and hasn’t had a chance and I’m the only one here.”

I believe he was going to tell me his life history as well as that of his boss. “Thank you. I may browse through them.”

I’m not sure why I came inside the store. There didn’t seem to be any premonition that I’d find anything, but I spent a good hour browsing through the book shelves. I didn’t find anything by Madrczyk. There were some good books there, but not by him. I turned my attention to the two dusty cartons lying on the floor.

Opening the first, I noted some old, old books that looked to be first editions. They were by Russian authors, so I wasn’t interested, but I would tell the clerk. I opened the second box and began sorting through the books inside.

Lifting the last book off the top layer, I paused. There was a very old book which I pulled out carefully. It was in a leather binder, but old and cracked.

I turned it over and looked at the front of the book. There was only one thing on the front.
<o>
The mark of Rambaldi! I stood and looked around. I could hear the clerk. He was talking on the phone. I opened to the first page. I could not translate what I saw, but I knew what it was—the red ball, just like the ones Sydney had taken and destroyed. I know my heart was beating faster than it ever done before. I grasped the book and kneeled again in front of the box. I returned the other books to the box, arranging them so no one would suspect I’d taken one. I folded the lids on that box and then placed the other box on top.

Glancing behind me, I saw the clerk was still on the phone. I thought for a moment; then placed the book tightly under my left armpit. I had to give him something of interest. I wanted him to be a hero. He hung up the phone just then.

“Hi, did you find anything?” He looked at me.

“Nothing I wanted, but I think you’ve got some money-makers in those two boxes. There are some first editions and perhaps a rare book or two. I would suggest you bring those boxes up here for safe-keeping. Call your boss. Tell him you went through the boxes and what you found.”

“Thanks!” His eyes lighted up. “Ummm, would you mind staying here for a moment, while I bring them here?”

“Of course not.”

He had both boxes back in a minute and put them down at his feet. “I appreciate your telling me.”

“Think nothing of it. Have a good day,” I smiled again and left.

I retrieved my car and drove off, heading for the airport. My heart was pounding as I contemplated what my discovery meant.
 
4. London

I didn’t look at the book until I returned to London. I couldn’t. It was too scary and too incredible a find. I was in possession of one of his manuscripts, one that everyone thought he might have written, but that no one had heard of. I found it in an ordinary book store.

When I entered my apartment in London, I said or did nothing but sit in my easy chair holding the book with reverence. It was almost an hour later that I turned on the light and opened it. It would take me some time to decipher the writing, but I’d learned from Viktoria’s professor the key to translating the Old Italian. What I really was thrilled about was that I had the book to myself and did not have to share it with Sloane or anyone else.

The drawings had caught my attention when I first opened it. Now as I went through the book, they were more detailed than Mueller had thought. The most startling was the immensity of the ball in conjunction with everything else. I had to translate it to find out just what its purpose was. I brewed myself a pot of tea, got a pad of paper from my desk, and sat down at the table.


Two months later, I was exhausted, but I’d finished the translation. I was not excited by what I’d learned. Instead I was horrified. IL Deluvio! The purpose of the machine was to kill the population. He wanted to wipe the planet clean. I’d thought that the liquid from inside the ball was the ultimate weapon. Agent Vaughn caught it and lived thanks to Sydney. But some of my scientists, Klaus and two other lieutenants had died from it. It was a different type of virus that radiated from the ball. It turned people into animals and set them against one another to kill. How it worked was not written down. I found no reference to an antidote, but there had to be one. Where was it?

I stared at the manuscript and then out the window. I’d been working for so long. It was nearing noon of this day. I knew I had to do something. I could not keep the manuscript. I had to destroy it. What was Rambaldi thinking? I know he thought it was for the good of mankind, but not this way. Did he really want to do this? Perhaps he’d thought to do it to the population in the time he lived. Certainly it would do less harm then than now.

As far as I knew, no one had any idea Irina Derevko had the book. I had to destroy it, but how?


The book is gone. I decided that burning it was too chancy and dangerous. Instead, I purchased a shredding machine with crosscut abilities. I fed the manuscript page by page into the machine. Everything ended up as confetti which I divided up and distributed in several different waste disposal cans between my apartment and Hyde Park. No one and I mean NO ONE would be able to ever put that manuscript together. Because I had a photographic memory, the only way anyone would get any information was to go through me and I wasn’t going to volunteer.

I spent a week trying to reorient myself to the task at hand—finding Sydney. It had been almost six months now and there was no word, nothing, from any of my contacts or Jack’s. No one had seen her. No one had even heard her name. She was dead according to the CIA and all other intelligence organizations.

A few days later, Jack emailed me wanting to know if I’d heard anything, seen anything. He was beginning to sound desperate—we both were. I didn’t know if Sydney was dead or alive.

“I want to recheck the files to see if we’ve missed anything.” He wrote.

“Very well. Come to London. I’ll meet you at the Thistle Victoria Hotel this weekend. Register as Jonathan Donahue.”

“Right.”

I still had a couple of days before we met. I wanted to think about our partnership. I did love the man and had definitely loved him by the time we were married four years and Sydney was born. I had my job for the KGB, but it became hard to maintain a cold exterior every time I met Valenko and spoke of Jack; it was harder when I ran into Katya. I thought I was cool when Yelena showed up. I don’t think anyone of them ever suspected my true feelings.

However Jack’s feelings had to be ambivalent. I mean I’d betrayed him twice. He was not happy to see me show up in CIA hands and brought to Los Angeles. I knew he thought I was going to steal Sydney away. I didn’t want to do it, but seeing and talking to my daughter after so many years made it almost impossible for me not to increase my love for her again.

Then this happened. Jack and I worked together now for almost six months and we’d found nothing. Maybe he was right; maybe we had to find some lead or else call off the hunt. I know he didn’t want to do it. He was desperate to find her, but was I? I know I did want to find her alive and well, but it was increasingly obvious that if she was alive, whoever took her had buried her deep into their system. If she was being brainwashed, she would not appear until they thought they were successful.

Saturday rolled around and I had no clue as to where Sydney could be, only supposition. I was going to meet Jack at his hotel this evening. He was coming in by red-eye express he said and wanted to catch up some sleep. He would see me at five.

I was prompt. I knocked on his door and he opened it almost immediately, sweeping me into his arms, kicking the door shut. “Irina! I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” I hardly had the words out of my mouth, before his covered it. I felt his hand slide up under my blouse, cupping my breast. I broke away. “Jack! I love our sex, but let’s talk about Sydney.” I was frightened to think that he of all people had lost his way.

“Sorry—it’s just that I’ve not seen you for a few weeks,” he sat down on the edge of the bed and held his head, “Oh God, Irina, I’m sorry. I know she’s alive. She has to be some place.”

“Let’s have a quick dinner first and then go over the files.” I pulled him to his feet and walked to the door.

It was almost one in the morning before we’d finished. There was no stone unturned that we hadn’t tried and every contact was made both his by him and mine by me. We had not missed one. No one knew anything. I think we were bleary-eyed from going over the files, so I told him I was going home. I needed to sleep. I left his room with him still sitting in the chair he’d occupied for six or seven hours.

I took the elevator to the garage where I’d left my car. On the second floor a man got in and I smelled ‘agent’ or ‘cop’. He looked the part. He didn’t seem interested in me though. The car stopped at the first floor. I stepped out, thinking I would take the stairs. I wanted out of his sight.

The doors were about to close, when they opened again and he stepped out. “Don’t move,” he said, “there’s a gun pointed at your back.”

I stopped, but didn’t put my hands up. “Who are you,” I asked? “I’m a citizen of the U.S.” Technically I was still Jack’s wife, therefore a citizen.”

“—and a terrorist named Irina Derevko. Walk to those stairs and make no sudden moves. I’ll kill you.”

My blood turned cold. “Who are you?” I demanded walking to the stairway.

“MI6. My lucky day. Catching you.” We went through the door. He stopped just inside and handcuffed my wrists behind my back.

We were at the bottom of the staircase. The door in front of me led to the garage. I felt the gun in my back. “Move and be extremely careful, because you are wanted dead or alive and I don’t mind bringing you in dead.”

That was the second time he’d mentioned that. I shoved open the door with my shoulder.

He followed. “Turn left. My car is in the rear. Keep a steady pace and smile if you meet anyone.” He walked up next to me. The gun was pointed at me through his jacket. I could feel it. If anyone saw us, they would not suspect anything unless they turned around. I was frantic, because if he got me to MI5, I could easily be lost to anyone looking for me, meaning Jack.

“Stop,” he said.

I looked around. There was no one in the area. I had to do something. I had to take a chance. I kicked backward hoping to hit his leg and by doing so create a way I could escape.

“Bitch,” he yelled, staggering slightly. He swiped at me with his gun. I lurched back against his car and it missed me by inches, but his fist caught me hard in the jaw and I dropped, losing consciousness and my freedom.


The room was dark when I woke up. I was in a bed, but it wasn’t a jail cell or a bunk. My jaw ached. I was confused as I looked around. “Hello!”

The bathroom door opened and a man stood framed in the back light.

Jack!

“You’re awake,” he said.

“What happened? How did you...?” I suddenly realized my clothes were gone. I was wearing only my panties and bra.

“Just a minute, I’ll turn on the light.” Fortunately it was not bright. “I was on my way to my car when I saw him knock you out. He was re-cuffing you when I came up behind him and hit him in the back of the head with my gun. I couldn’t say anything or let him see me.”

“He was MI5,” I said.

“Yes, I know. I put him in the trunk. I carried you back upstairs to my room. A few people saw us, but you know British reserve. They thought you’d fainted. Anyway I laid you down on the bed and returned to the garage. I moved his car to another part of town. It will take him a lot of effort to extricate himself from the trunk after he wakes up.

“When I returned, you were still out. You have quite a lump on your head.” He sat down on the bed. “I’m of the opinion that we get out of the hotel. It’s three a.m. and I don’t want him looking for me. They see me and they’ll make the connection.”

I slid out and stood. My head ached like hell, but I could manage. I was sure there wasn’t much activity in and about the hotel, so driving off would not be difficult. “Where are my clothes?”

“I just finished sponging them off. You won’t look too bad. The garage floor was dirty.”

I smiled. “Thank you.” I half staggered into the bathroom, putting on my clothes. Can I take you anywhere?”

“No! I have a rental car. I’ll leave a few minutes after you.” He gripped my upper arms. “Be careful. British Intelligence will know now you’re hiding in London, you’ll be in extreme danger. Not only that, but they’ll notify all law enforcement agencies that you are in this part of the world.”

“Damn it!”

“Yes, I agree. You and I may have to terminate our search for a while. Are you agreeable with that?”

“Yes, of course, but we can still probe our connections, can’t we?”

He nodded. “We will communicate only by email...and Irina, take care of yourself.” He bent down and kissed me.


It was the last time I saw Jack. Because MI5 knew I’d been in London, tapes were pulled from security cameras all over the hotel, including one in the dining room. There we were having dinner together as though nothing was wrong. My face was printed on the front page of every newspaper and on television. I knew Jack was in trouble also and it was imperative that I somehow get out of the city. I tried once to get a hold of him by email but there was no answer and because there was none I guessed he’d been arrested, possibly imprisoned. I had to leave.


5. Escape


It was obvious I would have to disguise myself and find a different method of leaving England. Going by air was too dangerous. Where and how would I go? I wore a couple of disguises when I was in CIA custody and working with Jack and Sydney. They would have pictures on file, I know, so blond wife and whore disguises were out. I had to go by way of either the Chunnel or the ferry. I had a British passport which helped. Still even those were not safe.

Something buzzed in the back of my mind. Something I’d seen recently. I frowned trying to bring it forward. It didn’t want to make the trip. I sighed and stood by the front window looking down into the street which was really an alley. There was no room anywhere for anyone to park their car except in the garage that went with their apartment. I edged close to the window and looked up toward the main street which I took to my run every morning.

That’s it! I remembered. I hurried to my bedroom and rummaged in my closet. I tossed out a thermal undershirt and pants, black woolen cargo pants, boots, socks, underwear, red flannel shirt, fleece jacket, a black hoodie and a backpack I’d bought a few years ago and left in the back of my closet. I opened it up and began to pack items I would need including two knives and a gun.

The gun rested at the bottom and on top of it I packed a mess kit, and an extra canteen. One knife I carried in a sheath at my waist. The other, a stiletto, hung from the necklace down my back where I could reach it fast. Once I was dressed, I pulled on a woolen watch cap over my hair which I’d twisted into a French Braid.

I glanced out the window. It was darkening fast. I had to move to get to the Metro for the train to Kent station. It had only been two days ago while I was on my way back from my run when I was stopped by a young couple asking for directions to the nearest metro. Both were dressed for hiking and both had heavy backpacks on their backs, walking sticks in their right hands. They were on their way to join a group that was hiking to the Coast and then going by ferry to Ostend. They were planning a hike to Paris by way of Belgium and it sounded as though there were several people going.

Finished packing, I went to the phone book and began looking up sports shops. I still needed a few pieces of gear. I had time to get to Dover which was their jumping off place. I made it to the store in time and added a thermal blanket, walking stick and bed roll to my gear.

I left at midnight. My apartment was in lock-down. No one could get in unless they knew the combination. I checked to see if my passport was in order. I had about four hundred Euros in cash which I wore in a money belt securely hidden around my waist. I’d kept out a hundred for expenses to get to Belgium.

My pass out of England would be on a group hiking tour.

I called Lucinda Howard, my lieutenant in London.

“Hello,” she said sleepily.

“It’s me,” I said. I heard her catch her breath. “Christ, Irina, are you crazy?”

“Just give me a ride to Dover.”

“I can do it. Where are you?”

I gave her the Westminster Metro Station. “I’ll be waiting outside. What do you drive?”

“Jaguar, white.”

“Nice,” I commented.

“...and fast,” she answered. “What time?”

“One hour,” I said. “And thanks...”

An hour later I stood in a doorway next to the metro. I’d been there for several minutes, but there was no one about. I saw the Jaguar pull up. I ran to it, threw my back pack in the rear seat and jumped in beside Lucinda.

“I say,” she said, throwing the car in gear, “you look rather sporting.”

“I hope so.” I answered. “I’m going on a hiking tour.”

She laughed. “Where?”

“Europe.”

I leaned against the window and dozed. It had been a stressful day. The hardest part was getting a last minute reservation to go on the tour. However I told the owner of the tour that I would pay him double if he arranged for me to go. I was on the edge of being foolish, but somehow I didn’t think that he even knew about Irina Derevko or cared.

It was close to six a.m. when Lucinda pulled up before the ticket offices of the Hoverspeed, Ltd. It operated between Dover and Ostend, Belgium. The boat was the Sea Cat. It made a couple of trips a day and it took two hours. They were leaving at 8:00 a.m. and I needed to see the tour guide as soon as he came into sight. I knew the group had spent the night in Canterbury. It was part of their tour. I looked around and saw a coffee shop across the street.

Minutes later I had hot tea and a couple of pastries. I walked to the Hoverspeed office, dropped my back pack and sat on it, drinking my tea and eating the pastries.

Minutes later, a small bus drove up and off loaded about two dozen people. I watched as a young blond woman talked with the driver who was off loading back packs. The passengers began picking theirs up as it hit the ground. Finally most of them were in the terminal when the blond waved at the driver.

I walked up to her. “Fran Carlton?”

“Yes?” She stopped and looked me. I hope she liked what she saw.

“I’m Laura Donahue. Did your boss phone you?”

“Yeah, woke me up.” She grinned. “I must say you don’t look anything like I expected.”

“And that was?”

“Spoiled rich kid doing the trip on a lark.” She smiled. “You paid double to walk?

I smiled back, “It was on a lark, but I’m not spoiled. I’ve done a lot of hiking and running, so I might be older, but I can keep up if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Fran shook her head. “Now that I see you, you look in better shape than some of the guys on the trip. Come on, I’ll take you inside and get your ticket.”

I followed her and she pointed to the group. I dropped the back pack and smiled. “Hi, I’m Laura Donohue. I just joined up.”

They jumped up and began introducing themselves. Thirty minutes later, we were all old friends. I gauged the experience of the group and thought they were probable intermediate in experience. That was fine with me, because I didn’t think was any better. I could walk all day if need be, but rock climbing and hiking rough terrain might not work out so well.

We all got through security without a problem. The customs guys actually didn’t run us through a gate, but hand checked our luggage and not very carefully. My agent only went through about half the items I’d packed before waving me on board. Since I was with the group, I sensed that they were not interested in detailing our bags, especially since we all hiking. Searching through more than two dozen hikers’ bags did not seem to be fruitful. Lucky me!

Our crossing was uneventful and in a little more than two hours, we were in Belgium. Going through customs again was easy. I was in the middle of a large group of hikers, all of whom seemed to know one another. By the time the agent got to me, checking my passport was about all they cared about. So my gun and my knife slipped through and I wasn’t recognized. Lucky me!

We headed for the hostel in Ostend where we would spend our first night. I was assigned to the girl’s side. I dropped my backpack and joined the others for dinner. Everyone was excited about the beginning of the trek tomorrow and celebrated by having a couple of beers or glasses of wine. I joined in with them, because, for a different reason, I too, was glad to get started. Their trip ended in Paris, but mine did not. I was going to Prague first then to Russia.

I was also going to get in touch with Katya. I had decided that she should make her way into the Covenant. The possibility Sydney had been taken by them was becoming more and more a probability. Why, would be something Katya might learn. Sydney had been missing for nearly a year.

TBC :dry:
 
Wow that was close, Jack to the rescue! Poor guy he still got arrested in the end. That was a smart idea with the hiking trip,lol. Glad she got away.
 
Although how you portray Irina in this fiction isn't compatible what I have in mind regarding her, I loved how she destroyed the Rambaldi book. The next chapter will be the re-appearance of Sydney I guess.
 
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