The Derevko Journals


Jan 22, 2003
So. California
Irina is 21

Sunday – August 13, 1972

At last I am in the apartment! What a trip I had getting here. First I was put on a submarine in Murmansk. We left at night and traveled past Greenland and stayed well of out of the shipping lanes until we reached Newfoundland. They off-loaded me and I met my contact who was to get me to the U.S. border.

We traveled by car and ferry to the U.S. Canadian border. We had to hike across it through some thick woods to a small town where another contact (I knew none of their names for their protection) met me and drove me to Philadelphia. I caught a bus to Arlington where my new apartment was located.

I arrived early afternoon. It was very hot and sticky. The temperature was 80 degrees, but the humidity must have been nearly a hundred. Huge dark clouds were forming in the far west over the mountains which I knew to be the Smokies. It seemed we would be having a storm sometime later…evening or after.

The manager assisted me to my apartment. It was 110 on the first floor. Of course, he asked if I had a job and I assured him I was a teacher at the local city college. I think he was worried about the rent. He also wanted to know what I taught and I told him. We chatted for a minute or two and he gave me some tips where to do my grocery shopping, where the city buses ran and where the shopping district was. He was doing everything he could to stay and talk. All the time he was talking, he was checking me out…top to bottom. I may have to be extra careful and make sure my locks are secure.

After he left, I checked everything inside. I was informed that a telephone would be ready to use and that the electricity would be turned on—all I had to do was go to the business offices and sign some papers. According to my last contact, ‘my father’ had taken care of the utilities and I would have just the billing transferred to me. I needed to go shopping for food first though as there was nothing in the apartment.

Since I had a few days free before I reported to the college, I decided to do everything in the morning including opening a check and savings account at the Arlington First National Bank. I had a cashier’s check for $9500.00 in my purse, courtesy of the KGB. It was drawn on the Burlington U.S. Bank which was located in Vermont’s largest city and capitol.

Monday – August 14, 1972

I met him—accidentally. Jack Bristow, I mean. I was at the mailbox checking the key I’d been given and to decide if I wanted my name on the box. I heard footsteps approaching as I was bending over to insert my key.

“Having trouble?” He asked.

“No, I…” I stood, looked up and recognized him. “…actually no, I’m new here and was trying my key.” I held my hand out. “I’m Laura Caine…with an ‘e’.”

“Nice to meet you, Laura Caine…with an ‘e’. I’m Jack Bristow. Welcome to the Arlington Arms.” He was staring at me in appreciation. I wondered how many beautiful women he knew.

I laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Bristow.”

“Jack, please.”

“Yes…Jack!” I said shyly. He was as good looking as his picture…maybe even better.

“Where are you from?”

“Vermont. I have a job at the city college.”

“Teaching or administration?” He asked.


“Is this your first time in the D.C. area?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yes, I’m eager to see some of the sights and I have a few days before I have to report to the college.”

“Look I’m not trying to make a pass, but you’re new in town and I do know D.C. pretty well. Let’s go Dutch tonight for dinner. I can drive us into the city and I know places that won’t cost an arm or a leg. You can see the capitol by night. Lights are always in place at the various monuments. Next weekend, maybe you’ll let me show you a lot more in the daylight.”

I smiled. “I think that’s very nice of you. I should warn you in case you had any ideas other than dinner or a drive that I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

He laughed and I liked it. “Granted. No, Laura Caine…with an ‘e’ this is an honest to goodness invite to welcome you to DC. I promise not to touch you.”

“Then it’s a deal,” I said, holding out my hand out and he shook it, grinning. Oh, I thought he is going to be so easy.

Saturday – August 19, 1972

Today was a wonderful day. Jack picked me up early and we had a donut and coffee here in Arlington. It was still hot and so I was wearing a sundress that I bought on Thursday and a sunhat. Jack thought I looked wonderful.

“Listen, I thought I would take a long drive and show you the sights in an around D.C. We’ll drive along the mall with the Smithsonian buildings outside the drive and the monuments on the inside: Lincoln, Washington and Jefferson. We’ll end up at where Congress meets, although they aren’t in session. It usually takes off in August. We’’ drive by the White House where Nixon resides now. Then we will drive to Chesapeake Bay, maybe to Annapolis and have dinner at one of the great seafood restaurants in the area. What do you think?”

“Sounds wonderful,” I said.

Although it was steamy, Jack had air conditioning in his car. He did show me everything he said he would. I’m glad I studied some American History, because I wasn’t totally stupid when we chatted about the Civil War, Revolutionary War or the White House. He made some comments about Nixon. I wasn’t sure if they complimentary or not. I knew, but he didn’t know I knew, he worked for the CIA, I didn’t know if he was testing me or not, but he had no reason to suspect me.

“I’m not too political, Jack.” I said. “I find most politicians boring and liars.” This was true in Russia I knew and very well held true here in America.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you.” He said.

Dinner was wonderful. I had lobster. I didn’t mind paying for it…not my money. Anyway we didn’t get home until late. I wouldn’t let him come in but I did give him a light kiss on the cheek…and I gave him my phone number.

Monday – August 28, 1972

School started today. I am teaching two classes – English Literature 101 and 102. They are both introductory classes. I work for Dr. Thomas Olson who must be four times my age. He looks ancient and totters around, barely able to walk. He is my supervisor also for my doctorate at least at this point.

I had no trouble with my papers and have been made welcome by the staff here at the college. Students are due to begin classes tomorrow. I have a lot to do first, however. I thought Dr. Olson would be giving me directions on how to proceed, but so far he hasn’t done so. I am beginning to think I will have to set up my own curriculum. Now I am thankful I had the extra training before I left.

Thursday – August 31, 1972

Jack called. He wants to take me to dinner on Saturday at the Sea Fest Restaurant in Annapolis. It’s the place we first went to dinner three weeks ago. This is Labor Day weekend and there will be a lot of traffic, so he got reservations a week ago for seven. I shall wear something special for him.

Sunday – September 3, 1972

Got him! He’s mine! I’m glad I didn’t follow the suggestion of Nickolai who said to get him into bed as soon as possible. Men—they think only with what they have between their legs sometimes. I am not here for a week or two; more like two or three years. The three weeks leading up to last night were perfect…just leading him on little by little.

We had sex last night as well as this morning and it was good. It was better than I expected. In fact Jack more than outdid himself.

It began with dinner. I wore the red cocktail dress I’d been saving. It was strapless as well as short, showing off my legs to every advantage. I even took a chance at wearing high heels to match the dress. The bust line dropped slightly in the center, showing my cleavage. I had a plain gold watch and gold hoop earrings. No other jewelry was on me.

He picked me up at 5:00 p.m. and when he saw me, he looked as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. I don’t think they ever left watching me, even when he was driving. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, blushing nicely. “You look good too!”

I can say without bragging that when we entered the restaurant and were shown to our table not one eye was looking at anyone but us. I know we presented a striking couple to those there. We both stood over six feet and I was a little taller because of the heels I wore.

“So many people watching,” I whispered to Jack when we sat down.

“You deserve it,” he said.

“I don’t know why.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You are the most stunning creature ever to grace this restaurant.” He smiled so warmly that I thought I would melt.

“Stop it, Jack.” I said with some embarrassment.

“I mean it. You are very beautiful.” He said and held my hand. “I don’t know why I’m so lucky.”

Dinner was excellent and this time he paid for the lobster. We shared two bottles of wine and spent time over a cup of coffee talking about family and friends. I asked him what he did and he said he was in the information gathering business. That was an interesting analogy. He’ll tell me one day…sooner than later, I’m sure.

We left the restaurant at ten and returned to the apartment in an hour. The traffic was very light. I invited him in for a drink. I wanted to get him into bed. It did seem the appropriate time. I knew he was excited when I invited him to the apartment. It was the first time since we’d met.

“I have scotch, vodka, wine or beer?” I asked

“Scotch, please, straight on the rocks.” He said.

I handed him his drink and sat down next to him on the sofa, crossing my legs. My dress slid down about three inches toward my crotch. I sensed he’d caught his breath.

“Tonight I would like to indulge myself…” I paused, “in some serious necking. We’ve been seeing each other for almost three weeks. I like you…a lot, Jack.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “Would you like me to continue? I want to know you better”

He finished his drink and turned to me. “Yes Laura, I think it’s about time.” He took me into his arms and began kissing me like I’d never been kissed before. He was both gentle and insistent, not demanding as his mouth overpowered mine, his tongue surging in and out of my mouth. I moaned softly. He pushed me down, lying on top of me.

We kissed and I could feel him harden. It was time. “Would you like to stay the night?”

Jack stood and then picked me up. He hurried to the short hallway and entered the bedroom. Setting me down on my feet, he kissed me, his hands working at my dress.

“Unzip it, sweetheart,” I breathed, while undoing his belt.

My dress slid off revealing I was wearing only panties. He was panting as I unzipped his trousers, pulling the belt wide so that they slid to the floor. Jack had already kicked his loafers off. He stepped out of his pants his eyes checking out my breasts, leaning down to kiss each nipple. My breath caught in my throat. Now I was gasping with desire. I fairly ripped his shirt off. He wore boxers and his penis was straining against them. I pulled at the snap and they dropped to the ground. One look and I knew he would not disappoint me or any woman.

“Jack…” I whispered as I took hold of his manhood and fell back onto the bed with him on top of me. I spread my legs and lifted my thighs, gently guiding him inside me. Once he was there he came alive, surging all the way and then thrusting about five times before he climaxed. I however was not quite ready.

“Oh God, Laura,” he said. “Please let me continue. I can help you come.”

“Yesss,” I hissed softly, knowing I was just seconds away.

He moved down until he was over my vagina. His head dipped down and he began lapping the cream, slowly and sensuously.

“Oh God,” I said silently. Nickolai never did that!

He then put his mouth over my clit and began tugging at it. He plunged three fingers between the lips of my vagina and down to as far as he could go. He did wonderful movements with those fingers and his mouth and I screamed as I climaxed as never before. I mean it. Jack Bristow was doing something to me, no one else had. He was making my body sing with pleasure.

We did it three more times and twice we came at the same time. That was truly a great experience. I knew I’m going to hang onto him with everything I have. Jack Bristow is mine.


Friday -October 20, 1972

Jack asked me to marry him! I said YES!!! However, I have to be passed by the FBI to run background checks on anyone marrying someone in a sensitive position with the CIA. I was horrified and somewhat angry. It was then Jack told me he was working for the CIA. I was properly impressed, but think he was foolish to tell me right away. Still I do understand his need to explain why my family and home town would be scrutinized. I don’t care. If the KGB has done their job, I won’t be suspected of being anything other than a young teacher.

Jack said once that was out of the way, we could plan when to do it. I suggested during the Thanksgiving holidays and he agreed. He would have four days off and we could have a short honeymoon.

“I promise we’ll have a longer one as soon as I can get away for any length of time.”


Friday – November 24, 1972

Today is my wedding day. It’s very cold here in the D.C. area. We’ve obtained our license early because Jack wants us to get married in Maryland. He’s rented a suite of rooms at an old hotel near the waterfront in Annapolis. Anyway, I don’t think I need to pack much. I suspect we’ll spend most of our time in bed. My sex life has never been this good. Jack said we’d leave as soon as he made sure my apartment was spic and span. We’ve moved into his apartment a week or so ago, but my rent was paid up until the end of this month. I don’t think he should worry. I am always manic about keeping my living quarters ‘spic and span’ no matter where I am living. It was something my mama instilled in me when I was very young.

“Always keep your house clean and no matter where you live you will not have bugs or rats.” I never forgot.


It was nearly 1 a.m. when Sydney closed her mother’s journal. “Wow, what a courtship. I thought Vaughn and I were hot for each other that day we shut down SD-6.” Her parents, however, equaled them in their passion. A tear fell from her eye as she thought of the two lovers. She sighed, shaking herself, but one was a cold-blooded killer—an assassin…her mother. So beautiful, so deadly and yet, obviously, at least it seemed so from Sydney’s point of view, seemingly falling in love with the man she was tasked to spy upon.

TBC :love:


Jan 22, 2003
So. California
I know Jack and 'Laura' were fast.
However it was love at first site for Jack and he didn't want to lose this beautiful woman who was his equal in intelligence if not more so, plus good in bed. LOL
As for 'Laura', he was her target. That means when he proposed she would say yes.



Jan 22, 2003
So. California
Friday - February 2, 1973

Dr. Olson has asked me to go to a conference in Prague next month. He’s paid for it, but has developed some heart problems. His doctor wants him to stay put. He said I’ve been doing so well according to the monitors he’s sent that I would benefit by attending the conference. It’s about World Literature, but I am going to be on a panel about English Literature…taking his place.

I’m flying to Prague on a Thursday and return on Sunday after the conference ends. I don’t have a class on Fridays, but there is one on Monday. Olson promised he’d have someone cover it for me.

Jack isn’t happy about it, but realizes it’s a chance we wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise. I’m going to take just a hundred dollars. We figure that it would cover my food that I have to pay for as Dr. Olson had paid for the banquet on Saturday night and the luncheon on Sunday. We’ve been saving for a house, but this is an opportunity that might see an increase in money down the road…for me and…us.


Saturday – March 3, 1973

I’ve just flown into Prague. I am ordered to my first assignment. I was in the city for a conference and V gave me the name the day before I flew out of Washington. Jack let me out at Dulles International and ten hours later I was in Paris where I transferred to another plane for Prague. My assignment was a man called Ulrich Koric. I plan to do it tonight after the banquet. My requests are to be filled by agents here.

That night the street in front of his villa was deserted. Set in regular intervals, wrought-iron lamps cast pools of light across snow-covered sidewalks and illuminated a handful of empty cars parked along the empty street. Off in the darkness I could see many trees of pine, oak and birch, marking the location of other homes set off in among the trees well off the road.

I was about a hundred meters down the road from Koric’s driveway, waiting motionless between two oak trees. I had run through the forest from where I had hidden my rental car. It took several minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dark and my surroundings. There was no movement to indicate guards. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred. There were no suspicious shapes or silhouettes or shapes lurking between those parked cars or among the trees and shrubs bordering the quiet street.

Good, I thought. Sometimes even the best intelligence agents made mistakes. Ulrich Koric was an American and a CIA operative. He’d been living undercover in Prague for years and not even my country knew it, until, by accident, he was seen intercepting a dead drop. Still the details were not my job to know. I was given the assignment to eliminate him.

Earlier, at an assigned place, I picked up clothes and weapon. I had a Beretta and it was concealed in my shoulder holster. I wore a ski jacket over it, disguising its holster. I stepped out from between the oaks and strolled down the street, walking fast and making no effort to hide my movements. With luck anyone who saw me would think I was on my way home from work or shopping.

Not far up the street, I passed a silver Porsche parked in a spot that offered a good view of Koric’s driveway and property. I’d seen it earlier, but now I confirmed the license plate. There was no one in it now. According to the information I received, it was my backup. I was not to worry. I growled under my breath. Idiots! I think it is because they don’t know if they can trust me since I married my CIA agent.

Fifty meters down the street from Koric’s property I took out keys from my black leathers and opened the gate which led into the spacious front garden of the neighboring villa. Wide gravel paths meandered between barren flowerbeds now mounded with snow. Up at the house a light shone over the door, but the rest of the building—built to look like a Renaissance Italian palazzo—was dark. I was in luck. The owners were not home yet.

So now that I was out of sight, I sprinted across the garden staying off the gravel paths so as not to make noise. I went straight for the wall that marked the edge of Koric’s property. Barely slowing down, I caught the edge of the wall with my gloved hands and pulled myself up to the top. For a minute I waited, slowly pulling out the black ski mask out of my jacket pocket and putting it on. I was conscious of my pulse racing briefly, but then focused instead on any faint sounds that might be rising from the grounds next door.

I heard a muted noise some distance away, nearer the house, so I dropped to the ground, pulling my gun, and faced the direction of the sounds. I was in good cover among the tall trees and flowering bushes planted around Koric’s Edwardian-style home. Although lights glowed behind several of the villa’s second-floor windows, casting elongated rectangles of faint illumination across open lawn near the house, this narrow fringe of woods was wrapped in almost total darkness.

Staying low, I slid cautiously to the right, edging around broad tree trunks and snow-crusted shrubs, carefully watching where I put my feet to avoid snapping any fallen branches and twigs. I froze almost immediately as I spotted a faint movement which was highlighted by the glow from the windows.

It was a short man with a paunch. He headed for the Audi parked in the driveway. He entered it and drove down the drive. I fell to the ground as his headlights swept the area. I didn’t want him to spot me. Although I wondered who he was, my target was Ulrich. I was not tasked to do anything more.

I moved carefully toward the villa, making sure there were no guards. V said he didn’t think anyone would think Ulrich was in danger. The Russian agents sent to scout the villa and the target left an encrypted message in my box at the hotel. I’d read it and then tore it into bits, flushing it down the toilet.

The message was simple. “He’s an easy target. No guards and lives alone. Bedroom is on the second floor.”

I saw there was an open space ahead of about ten yards. I’d have to be in the open for a second or two. I gathered myself and, knowing there were no guards, ran for the side of the villa, half-expecting trouble, but there was none. The street remained empty with no cars. I flattened my back against the wall listening for any shouts. Nothing, only silence. I moved to windows through which light was showing and carefully looked.

Koric was sitting in his study, working. Perhaps, he was writing a report. I made my way around the house, checking windows and doors. I found a window that was partially open. Too much noise could emanate from lifting it up, especially since Koric was in the next room. I wondered if there was a silent alarm. The report didn’t say anything about that. I backed up a few feet and looked up to see that another window was open on the second floor.

I holstered my weapon and climbed the trellis. I tried the window and it slid up silently, allowing me full access. I entered the room which was a bedroom and went to the stairs after checking every room. There was a master bedroom…his room, no doubt. I didn’t want to risk the stairs as who knows which one might creak and alert the target. So I waited for him to come upstairs.

Ulrich came up forty minutes later. There was a creaking stair. I grinned, thinking I’d made a smart decision. I was in his closet in the back so that if he opened the door, he would not see me immediately if at all. However he did lift out his pajamas from a hook inside the door. He closed it almost immediately. I heard him in the bathroom. He got into bed and turned off the light. I was patient, waiting a good hour before even thinking about leaving.

Quietly I turned the handle and pushed the door open. He was asleep and snoring softly. There was a pale light coming from the window near his bed. I looked out, noticing that his bedroom overlooked his own garden and drive to the street. Glancing at my watch, I noted it was after midnight. Time to get the job done and get back to my hotel. The conference began at 8:00 a.m. sharp with breakfast. I walked over to him, picking up the pillow which lay beside him. In a swift motion, I placed the pillow over his head and fired three times into his face. His body jerked and then fell still.

He was dead. Target acquired.

God that was exhilarating. It was almost as good as an orgasm. However, I’m glad I didn’t have to eliminate any guards.

I returned the weapon to the secret cache along with my all my clothes including boots.

I came back to the hotel and had a nice hot bath.

Monday - March 6, 1973

I’m home and Jack was there to pick me up from Dulles International. I was so happy to see him. I knew I didn’t want him there in Prague, but now that it was over I was so intoxicated by the success of my first mission that I wanted him. I was all over him when we got into the car.

“Good grief, Laura.” He gasped as my hand slipped into his pants pocket, reaching for his balls through the cloth. I leaned over and kissed him. He stopped the car, breathing heavy. “Look I’m flattered as all get out and I’ll take care of you, but not in heavy traffic. Take your hand out of my pocket!”

“Spoil sport!” I breathed. I obeyed, but kept my hand on his thigh.

We made it home to the apartment in record time. Jack grabbed my bag and I had his other hand. He unlocked the door, dropped the bag as I began shedding my clothes. He was almost as quick; then he threw me down on the kitchen table. I threw my legs around him as he thrust himself deep in one motion. I groaned with pleasure.

“My God you are ready,” he said. He thrust and we rocked back and forth.

I could feel the orgasm coming. “Oh, oh, oh Jack…JACK!” I felt the surge of emotion take me up to the heights and then again and again until I grabbed his face between my hands and kissed him hard. He was also exhausted having coming just that moment. When we kissed, I cried. “frack me again, please.”

“Woman you are insatiable!” He said, but bending down between my legs, he reached down and lifted me up. I put my legs up over his shoulders as his lips took hold of my clit which was throbbing almost maniacally. He sucked on it and then moved his tongue to my labia, lapping up my cum and driving me wild. I was clenching at the table cloth as he worked his magic with his fingers, having done it several times since we were married.

This time was no different. I screamed. “frack…fucks…frack me, Jack!” He did until I finally collapsed in exhaustion.

“God, what happened in Prague to make you…you…?”

“Horny? Sweetheart, I just missed you so much!” I sat up slowly and then stood. “Well, looks like we’ll have to throw this away.” I bunched up the tablecloth and dropped it in the wastebasket.

*** IRINA IS 22


She thought about how sexy her mother was and how her parents had had sex…a lot. She giggled. They were…about 22 and 23. She and Vaughn were a little older, but no less horny.

Sydney closed the journal with a sigh. She frowned trying to remember if she’d ever heard of Ulrich Koric. She knew about the wall back at Langley, but there were no names under the stars. Vaughn’s father was among those her mother had killed. She wondered if ‘Mom’ had written about Bill. She also wondered if Vaughn wanted know what Irina Derevko thought when she killed him. Sydney decided she would not show that particular journal to her husband. The fact was she didn’t know if she could read it either.

Sighing again, she decided to wait until Bill Vaughn’s assassination came up. Turning off the light, she slid down until her head was on the pillow. Turning she reached out for Vaughn who was asleep and snuggled up against him.


Thursday – May 24, 1973

Jack is taking me to Toronto. He has a conference to go to on Child Development. The CIA is sending him and gave him permission to take me along! I let V know. Sure enough, I was called to the motel where I was getting another assignment. I gave them parameters which had to be met. The job had to be set up for an early morning when Jack thought I was out running. They told me who and where. I said that I would need a sniper rifle with scope and my on-the-job clothes. He promised all would be in place by the time I arrived at the hotel in Toronto.

Friday – May 25, 1973

We arrived in Toronto less than an hour after leaving D.C. It felt like spring. We took a taxi to the hotel. Jack was originally from Toronto before his parents immigrated to West Virginia. He knew the city and wanted to show me around.

When we entered the hotel, Jack met several people he knew. I was surprised to note most were psychologists specializing in children’s mental health. He was really working hard to get his Project Christmas completed and used them to help him with any problems that he came up with. I doubt any of them knew what he was planning. He didn’t know I knew either. I was going through his briefcase almost every night and passing along the information to V for transmission to the KGB, but there had been nothing substantial as yet. This conference might produce a surge in Jack’s methodology and I could report them.

Although I looked bored, I did listen intently to everything they talked about, putting the pieces together that Jack was trying to make into a whole. The rough design of his project was to train children to be spies and when they were old enough, recruit them into the CIA already armed with skills that would decrease their training time as well as enabling them to be sent out into the field almost as soon as they finished training. Even I am becoming interested, especially since it took almost two years for me to be assigned a mission.

Saturday – May 26, 1973

We got up early. I wanted to run and Jack needed to go over the program and the seminars he was going to attend. I told him I’d meet him for breakfast at 7:00 a.m. We kissed and headed off in different directions.

Downstairs there was a cab waiting. It was driven by one of our agents who took me immediately to the motel. It was dark still as I changed clothes. I threw my running clothes and shoes into a duffel bag. Another bag held the rifle. I said nothing to the driver when I entered the cab again.

Ten minutes later, I was on top of an office building which was basically empty. I had gone up the fire escape with both bags. I located the building where my target was to be within the next fifteen minutes. It was quarter to six. The target always worked on Saturdays and, as expected, the American consulate was lighted up. Marine guards stood at attention at the gates. It was two hundred yards away and easily in my range.

There were gray clouds hanging in the sky which could portend a spring storm. I sprawled out on the roof and set up the rifle on it’s tripod after securing the scope and adding the silencer. In order to facilitate my escape, the silencer would keep the Marines from locating which building the shot came from.

My target was another CIA agent who was stationed at the Consulate. Why the assignment was never explained. That probably was for the best since the less I knew, the more impersonal the kill. They were only the enemy and nothing more. I checked the sight, made a minimal adjustment; then settled back to wait for the target to arrive, which according to my watch, was just about five minutes away.

The gates opened to allow a car inside. The car parked in a numbered space. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The agent left the car walking to the main entrance. I pulled the trigger twice. The target crumpled to the ground. I left the rifle where it was and changed clothes out of sight, leaving my work clothes in the duffel. Three minutes later I was in the cab being driven back to the park next to the hotel. Another agent was already putting the rifle into its bag. My job was the kill. Other agents took care of the clean-up. It made my task that much easier. If they screwed up, they would pay.

I ran until about twenty to seven and then jogged slowly into the hotel and to our room. I took a quick shower and dressed. Minutes later I was walking into the café where I saw Jack sitting in a booth drinking coffee. His day was beginning and mine, well the most important part was just over. I slid into the booth after giving him a kiss. I wanted him to make love to me, but I would have to wait until tonight.

Monday – May 28, 1973

I think Jack has heard about his colleague being killed. He came back from the conference this evening looking pale and out of sorts. I asked him what happened to make him so gloomy. He told me he couldn’t talk about it. I didn’t press him for more information. He’d tell me if he wanted me to know. We will be flying out today at ten in the morning. Jack didn’t say much until we got home. Then he seemed to gather himself and come out of his gloominess. He apologized. We made love quietly until I climaxed.

“My God, I love you,” he said. “You have brought me such joy.”

I moved into the crook of his arm trying to comfort him. I leaned up and kissed him gently. “Good night, sweetheart. Try to get some sleep.” I closed my eyes and was asleep instantly satisfied with the job well-done.


Friday – June 15, 1973

Graduation was this past week. Jack is away. He had to go to Vienna for the job. He couldn’t take me, which was okay with me. I need to work on my doctorate which is coming along just fine. Dr. Olson, as doddering as he is, is quite fond of me and has been very helpful in my research and approving my outline.

He also was very pleased in the manner I taught this year and has given me excellent marks. I like to teach, especially since I’m young, almost as young as some in my students. They have also given me good marks as their teacher, which is very gratifying. Who knows—I might get a bit of a raise. Jack and I could use it.

Jack! He is so good to me. There are times when I just cannot think of him as my enemy or an enemy of my country. He’s kind, considerate, and respects me! Sex with him is so good that we indulge ourselves five or six times a week! That, of course, gives me time to check his briefcase and the information it might contain as he falls asleep almost immediately after we finish.

He’s been talking about having a child too. I’m on the pill and have told him I want to get my doctorate before raising a family. He is always encouraging me to study extra hard and get the thesis going. I will get it done by next summer, I know. I just don’t know how much longer I will have to stay. I was told two or maybe three years. Having a child would complicate everything I am doing.

TBC :ermm:


Jan 22, 2003
So. California
I'm curious what will Sydney think about her mother when she finishes the journals.
That is far, far away from this point. I believe she will understand her better. She certainly won't condone what she did, but she will get what things drove her mother to her end: patriotism, greed and lust for power. That pretty much sums up Irina in a simple way. As we know, and you will know, she is a complex person.
You'll learn more as the journals progress.

Jan 16, 2006
These journal entries are great. But I just can't see syd reading about her parents having sex, I know I wouldn't want to read that part. Keep up the great work. :)


Jan 22, 2003
So. California
Monday - September 3, 1973

Jack invited one of his friends from the CIA over—Arvin Sloane and his wife, Emily for a Labor Day barbeque. Arvin is not the handsomest man, but his wife is beautiful. He
is shorter than either Jack or I and Emily is about five two. They make a nice looking couple and I enjoyed their company very much.

We talked about a great many things and I was pleased that both Emily and Arvin were not boring. Our conversation covered many subjects including politics, world news and entertainment. We did talk about something neither Jack nor I knew anything about—a scientist named Milo Rambaldi. He was a 16th century genius, according to Arvin, who was so far ahead of his time that he made Da Vinci seem like a student.

“The trouble was,” said Arvin, “his inventions worked and were unlike anything anyone had ever thought of that he was deemed a heretic and burned at the stake!”

He went on to describe one of the inventions. He even said he was on the trail of one of his artifacts and might soon come into possession of it. I was enthralled, because it might be something they would want to know more about.


Saturday - November 24, 1973

It was our anniversary today. Jack took me out to dinner in D.C. It was cold and rainy, but the restaurant was great. I had Beef Wellington. I’d never eaten something so good. It came to me on a plank with mashed potatoes rimming the steak along with sautéed carrots and zucchini. Jack had an 8 ounce filet that he said he could cut with his fork. For dessert he ordered a Baked Alaska. As we finished, he pulled a box from his inside coat pocket and handed it to me.

“For the most wonderful woman in the world,” he said. “Happy Anniversary, happy anniversary, darling.”

“Jack! I thought we weren’t going to spend a lot.”

“I lied. Open it.”

I did and was surprised to see earrings—diamond earrings. “They’re beautiful,” I gasped.

He grinned. “They will only enhance your beauty.”

“Your present is home and it’s not glamorous...or expensive.” I almost felt guilty when I thought about it.

“Then if you’re finished, we’ll go.” He helped me up and we left.

It was raining and it was cold, but I don’t think either one of us noticed. The valet came with our car.

When we entered our apartment, I ran to the closet to get the box. He grabbed me around the neck and kissed me. Then he opened it.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s a new briefcase!” He picked it up, looking it over from stem to stern. “This is a wonderful gift. Mine looks like its a hundred years old. Thank you. I’ll transfer my stuff in the morning. However, the night isn’t over, is it?”

Laughing, I ran to the bedroom dropping my coat and kicking off my shoes. He was right behind me. In seconds he’d removed my dress, bra and panties, leaving me standing there with only stockings and a garter belt.

“Hold on,” he gasped, “don’t move.” He dropped his pants, tie, shirt, boxers…kicked off his shoes. “Bend over,” he ordered.

The sex was great. We slept in each other’s arms that night. I woke up finding he’d mounted me and was covering my breasts with kisses that caused my nipples to stand up straight. I pulled his head to me and kissed him hard. He began thrusting slowly; then a little faster as my vagina became filled with cum and he could go deeper.

“Jack,” I cried, lifting my legs and locking them behind his thighs. My head was swimming with thunder. “Hurry…I’m com…ing, coming…” We rocked as my senses heightened.

We came together. I held him close and shuddered two or three times as his penis was forced to stay inside. When I was done, I sighed and let him go. He rolled over next to me and both of us were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Neither of us, however, wanted to move any further. We lay there panting, catching our breath and deliriously satisfied.

Finally Jack got up and went to take a shower. It was Sunday and we had been invited to one of his friend’s home for a small dinner party. I stayed where I was, thinking about the briefcase. It was a special one that had been provided by V.

I will have no trouble accessing it in the future. It has several features that Jack doesn’t even know about and won’t.


Tuesday – December 4, 1973

Jack called me this afternoon. He’s going out of town for a week or so, but he couldn’t be specific. He didn’t tell me where either. I have called V and forwarded the information. Hopefully I’ll be able to stay at home. I think I’m almost finished with my dissertation and can schedule my orals for later on.

Later: V called and needed to see me. I went and was given another assignment—in London on Saturday. I’m booked into a small hotel in Soho. I told him as soon as I’m done I want to fly back. If all goes well, I shouldn’t be gone more than 24 hours.

Saturday – December 8, 1973

I flew into Heathrow this morning at 10 a.m. I went directly to the hotel and picked up my assignment. I was surprised that the target was staying at a hotel a couple blocks away. My instructions were explicit. I had to do the job tonight. He was expected back from an Embassy dinner by eleven. I called the airline and re-scheduled my return flight for 2:30 a.m. I expect no problems and should be on time if not early.

In the closet was a bag with clothes, boots, ski mask of course, and weapon. This was to be a close-up job. There was a key enclosed also. It obviously was for his hotel door. I sat at the small desk and read the dossier. This was my third assignment.

I did not want to go out on the street. Too many variables could happen that might cause a problem in the completion of the mission. Being careful was also being prudent. At this stage in my career, I wanted to be perfect. I wanted no problems that would appear on my record. After all, I knew I would be going home sometime in the near future.

The day passed slowly. I watched the television which was not particularly good. I spent a part of the morning cleaning the Beretta they supplied. Then I checked the rear entrance of the hotel. It was satisfactory, but I needed my key to get in as the door would be locked at ten p.m. There was a sign to that effect on the door in my room.

I dressed to go out about ten after putting my hair into a French braid. Looking out my window I could see it was snowing lightly. I wore heavy boots with sheepskin lining. I tucked my pants inside. Because of the weather I decided not to wear my usual leathers. Pulling on my thermal shirt, I tucked it into my pants then buckled the leather belt tight to hold it. Over that shirt, I pulled on a thick black flannel shirt.

The jacket had an inside pocket holster that was especially designed for a small gun. I tucked the Beretta inside and looked in the mirror. Perfect. Black leather gloves finished the ensemble. I tucked the black ski mask in the right hand pocket. I checked the room to be sure everything was ready for my departure. I would do the job and then drive to the airport, taking the flight home. I should have plenty of time to make the connection.

Leaving by the rear door I met no one. They were either in for the night or out. It was a Saturday night after all. There was a car waiting in the alley. I entered the rear seat and the driver drove off. It took only a very few minutes for us to reach my target’s hotel. My driver stopped in the alley and handed me a key.

“To get in and out of the room and hotel when you finished the job.”

I nodded, saying nothing. It was understood he would wait for me. As I entered the hotel’s rear entrance, he switched off his lights.

I made it into his room by ten thirty and I supposedly had to wait until his return which had been figured at eleven. I sat down in one of the chairs. My heart was pounding. It had on the previous two missions. It was the anticipation of the kill, I think. I had no second thoughts. It was a job.

It was almost a quarter past eleven, when I heard voices. I went immediately into the bathroom and waited, listening for the key in the door.

“Come on in, Jack.”

JACK?!! My heart leaped into my throat and I blinked. Jack? My Jack? felgercarb! I felt sweat break out on my forehead. I pressed close to the door in order to hear what was being said. My heart was beating so hard I thought they would hear it.

“No…it’s late. How about breakfast before the meeting?”

It was Jack, my husband! I pulled out the mask and put it on, tucking my braid up inside. My hands were shaking a bit. I took a slow deep breath. There was nothing I could do if he stayed. I would have to kill him too! I blinked, keeping tears from falling. Hell of condition to be in when they expected me to do the job I was assigned.

“Okay! How about 7:30?”

“I’ll be in the dining room. Goodnight.” The door closed.

I gave another sigh of relief. I pulled the silencer out of my pocket and screwed it onto the Beretta. There was movement in the room. I thought maybe he was going to bed, but then heard light footfalls coming toward the door. I plastered myself against the wall, hoping he wouldn’t slam the door open against me. He didn’t. He opened just enough to step inside.

I stepped around the door, pointed the gun at his ear, and fired. He dropped to the floor without a sound. He never knew I was there. I opened the door and left the room. The mask was stuck in my pocket and the gun holstered. Walking to the end of the hall, I saw there was a fire escape. Three minutes later I was in the back seat of the car.

“You can leave. Target was acquired.”

The driver nodded. “Your hotel?”

I nodded. I thought about the near miss I had. I realized Jack could have stayed for—whatever and problems would have developed. I was relieved he’d left.

“You’re here.”

I left the car and didn’t even look at the driver as he drove off. I re-entered the hotel with my key, running quickly up to my room. I undressed, leaving my clothes with the gun. The KGB cleaning crew would be here shortly to remove all traces of my being in London. I would leave Heathrow looking entirely different, flying back to Washington before the target was even discovered.

Thursday, December 13, 1973

I received the phone call from the airport. Jack was back in the states, but in D.C. He told me that he had to go to Langley first and perhaps would be home in time for dinner. I was feeling excited and was so wound up that I needed Jack for my usual release. I showered, dressed appropriately, and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

However he didn’t come home until nearly midnight. I was so tense one could bounce a tennis ball off me. I wondered what had happened to make him so late.

He dropped his coat and hat on the sofa and swept me into his arms. “I’m sorry, darling, but they needed to debrief me. They didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

“What happened?”

“Philip Krasner was killed. He’s an agent working on a particular matter.”

“But why you?” I asked.

”I was with him the night he was killed. They wanted to be sure I hadn’t seen or heard something that would give the director of operations some idea of why he was murdered.”

“Did you?” I asked.

He shook his head, “No, I just walked him to his room and we made a date to have breakfast the next morning. As near as I can tell, he was murdered shortly after. The killer might have been there all along. That’s the reason I wasn’t home on Monday. I was assisting Scotland Yard and waiting for forensics to finish their cursory examination of his room. He was killed there—in the bathroom.”

“Do you want some dinner? I could heat it up.”

“No, darling, I’m so tired, I will probably sleep like a dead man.” He said.

He did. I would have to wait until tomorrow night.


Sunday – December 17, 1973

We went to Philip Krasner’s funeral today. Langley flew his body over on Friday after Scotland Yard released it. Jack asked me to help out Amanda Krasner at the gathering after the burial. That wasn’t easy considering. However I helped with the food: putting it on the table and cleaning the dishes when they were empty. I thought it was a nice gesture to leave her kitchen spotless.

Everyone was sad, because it happened just before Christmas. The Krasners have two children, a boy Philip Jr. and a girl, Betsy. The boy is 6 and the girl is 4. I don’t think they really knew what it was all about. They are almost too young to understand their father isn’t coming home again…ever.

Jack told me later that the office is going to pitch in to see that the children have a real Christmas. I offered to bake some cookies for them and maybe we could afford to buy a toy or two. Jack said the office was going to take care of all the gifts, but he was sure everyone would appreciate anything such as cookies. They are going to put this together on Christmas Eve. They want to be sure the children have a happy holiday. I don’t think Amanda is going to have one.

I can make Toll House cookies.



“I don’t know how she could do it.” Sydney said.

“What?” Vaughn was packing their clothes. They were leaving Rome for Florence.

“Go to that agent’s funeral. She killed him!” Sydney put the journal into the trunk, locking it; then she turned to Vaughn.

“Your mother,” he said carefully, “was a trained spy and assassin. Sydney, wake up! Irina Derevko was not a nice woman.”

“Yet suppose the shoe were on the other foot. What if, in doing my job, I had to do the same thing?”

Vaughn shook his head. “You wouldn’t do it! You couldn’t.” He pulled the trunk over to the door.

Sydney stiffened. “I would if I had too!”

He shook his head. “No, darling, you wouldn’t. You were not trained to be an assassin…to deliberately aim at and pull the trigger to kill another human being…someone you’d never met and knew nothing about. You could kill someone to save yourself, but never on the orders of the CIA.”

Sydney sat on the sofa. “Where’s Isabelle?” She suddenly looked around, not seeing their daughter.

“Darling, Katya took her so we could pack in peace.” He picked up the phone and dialed his Aunt-in-law. “Hi, it’s us. We’re finished. Bring Isabelle over.”


Thursday – March 14, 1974

We’re moving to Los Angeles!

Jack has been assigned to the Field office there. Sunny California! I told V, but have not heard back. Jack is making headway in his Project Christmas. He doesn’t know I know anything about it. I’ve not said anything.

One thing I do know—Arvin and Emily Sloane moved to Los Angeles a few months ago. I did miss them. I was really interested in this mad scientist guy and so were they! V said I was also being ordered to find out as much as I could about Rambaldi. It seems more people than I suspected are interested. So now, with us moving, maybe I’ll be able to stay. I was afraid that when Jack was posted to L.A. they would want me to come home. I guess not!


Wednesday – March 20, 1974

Professor Olson, my doctorate advisor, called me to his office. He was pleased, because the committee passed my dissertation. Now all I have left is my orals. He told me that I was the youngest person to have completed my doctorate. I am going to be 23 the day after tomorrow. What a wonderful birthday present.

I do have to set up a time for my orals, before we leave for L.A. Jack said it wouldn’t be until summer. He said that he would go on ahead in order to find an apartment, or maybe even a house.

“You can’t pick it out without me,” I said.

“I won’t sign anything, darling,” he said. “Besides we aren’t moving until June. This is just a preliminary visit.


“Of course,” he said.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Next week.” He kissed me.


Thursday – March 21, 1974

I talked to Professor Olson. I told him I would be leaving at the end of the semester for Los Angeles and that my husband got a promotion. I said that I wanted to take my orals before then and was it possible.

He said that could be arranged. Then I asked if he would give me a recommendation so I could get a job. He said he could do better than that—he would arrange for me to see a friend who taught at UCLA (University of California at Los Angeles) and see if he could persuade him to find a place for me on the faculty, especially since I was a brilliant protégé of his and would be a great addition to the faculty. I blushed at that compliment. He really is a sweet old man.

The date for my orals is going to be Friday, May 11th in the morning. Thank goodness, it is early so I won’t have to wait hours to do this.

Jack took me to a dress shop here in Arlington. He told me to pick out a dress and shoes. But he also told me he had to approve. I must have tried on a half dozen dresses, before the saleslady brought the dress. It was a perfect fit too! It’s a party dress…red with spaghetti straps and comes to just above my knees. I found a pair of red stiletto pumps that I could put my size 10 feet into without discomfort. Jack blinked several times when he saw me in it. He wrote a check immediately. Then we went out to dinner and dancing although I thought we both could use some dance lessons. I made up my mind to sign up for a few when we get to L.A.


Sydney stopped for a moment and laughed to herself. Her mother was a well-trained spy. Why hadn’t the KGB seen to it that she had been able to dance? Then she remembered her father didn’t seem to have two left feet. That her beautiful mother would have to take dance lessons seemed ridiculous considering her ‘job.’

Jun 19, 2006
The sex was great. We slept in each other’s arms that night. I woke up finding he’d mounted me and was covering my breasts with kisses that caused my nipples to stand up straight. I pulled his head to me and kissed him hard. He began thrusting slowly; then a little faster as my vagina became filled with cum and he could go deeper.
Is it hot here or is it me? :sun: :P


Dec 16, 2002
Great fic so far! I love Sydney's reactions & Katya and Isabelle are too cute together ^_^ please PM me when you update!
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