3. Helix Protocol
My head was splitting when I regained consciousness. I was not in the empty building. I was lying flat on a table in a very, very white room. There were machines of some kind lined up against the wall to my left. I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. My wrists were shackled to the table I was on and my ankles similarly held. A wide metal band ran across my abdomen and across my chest which served to fasten me to the table. I couldn’t move.
“Impressive, Irina.” The voice resonated in my head and I knew Yelena had caught up with me.
From somewhere behind me I heard a buzzer and then a clanging as a lock of some kind was thrown either manually or electronically. The door opened behind me. I strained to look. However I needn’t, because Yelena moved to my left side, followed by two other figures.
“Awake?” Yelena said.
“Let me go,” I snapped. I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I had to tell her I wasn’t going to let her browbeat me.
She flashed a quick smile. “Of course. All you have to do is tell me about Il Diluvio.”
“Chto?” I knew she’d been looking for that particular Rambaldi manuscript for some time. “I don’t have that—whatever it is.”
“Liar!” She snapped. “Where is it?”
“I don’t have anything by that name. Let me go!”
“No, but we have time to explore your unwillingness to talk. But first we have a little experiment to complete. Doctor!” She stepped to a spot behind me.
The doctor who was the one wearing a white coat. “Yes, Yelena?”
“Start harvesting the protocols.”
The machines started to come on. In my present situation, I could see very little. A noise from above caught my attention and I saw two large hooks descending from the ceiling. I watched with a bit of fear as the doctor hooked one through the buckle on my chest and the other to the band across my abdomen.
“Start the lift.” He said to someone to his right.
I was lying, it seemed, on a padded platform. It was lifted straight up about three feet. The doctor took hold of the platform and moved it with me to a tank on my right. I had not had time to notice it. There was water in it which was roiling. Since there was no steam rising from it, I quickly surmised it was not hot. The platform was moved over the top.
“Chto za chyort,” I yelled.
“Don’t worry, Ms Derevko,” the doctor explained. “You will be submerged only for minute. I would advise you to shut your eyes and mouth.”
The water closed over me and I did what he suggested as he put a clamp over my nose. Then in a second I was completely under water. I felt the water boiling around me, but I knew it wasn’t hot. Still what was happening? I fought against breathing and kept myself calm. I was not afraid because Yelena wasn’t going to harm me until she got what she wanted. I wasn’t planning on giving it to her. I could open my mouth and perhaps drown. That would end her plans...but I wanted to live.
Then the platform was raised and moments later I was back on the table where I’d been a few minutes before. The clamp was removed and I could breathe normally. I took several breaths as water streamed from my body and the clothes I was wearing. The doctor stood next to me, hypodermic needle in his hand. Before I could object or say anything at all, he’d plunged it into my arm.
I awakened sometime later. The room was pitch-black. There was no light anywhere. I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. My clothes were gone, but not the chains. My ankles were shackled. Bending from the waist I was able to ascertain that there was only 18 inches between them. That was not going to allow me much movement—my steps would be limited. However, my wrists were free...no manacles.
“Chyort!” I swore softly. I stood somewhat confused. I decided to find a wall and go from there. Three steps forward and I hit the wall, but not hard enough to cause any injury. I reached up as high as I could. At six feet, my hands reached about two and half feet above my head. Standing on tip toe, I could feel the crease where the ceiling met the wall.
“Start moving, Irina,” I said softly to myself. I slowly shuffled my feet to the left, feeling the wall for any sign of a door or window.
I was careful. I did not know what was in the room...table, chairs, anything to give me a sense of where I might be. I touched nothing as I came to the corner. Now I had to take measure of the room’s size. I worked my way slowly along the wall and used my wing span of six feet to measure it. This particular wall measured eight feet.
My hands explored for something to indicate anything that would give me information. I came to the next corner and my left foot hit something that clanged. I stopped. The item whatever it was moved slightly. I bent down and felt for the object. I found it and lifted it slowly. It was light in weight, but bulky and my fingers sensed it was some kind of bowl. I put both hands around it and lifted it closer. An acrid smell hit my nose and I nearly dropped my urinal.
Okay, that was not a positive find, but a necessary one. I continued my way along the wall after setting the bowl down. This one measured six feet. My hands moved slowly up and down the wall, searching for any kind of crease that would indicate a door, but there was none. I ran my hands along the top where ceiling met wall and there was nothing.
The next side was explored carefully, but there was nothing to indicate any kind of a door. However at the top near the ceiling was a six-inch wide item that felt like mesh of some sort. I tried to pry it off with my fingers, but couldn’t budge it. It was a speaker I thought. Yelena would use it to communicate with me.
I continued exploring the wall, but there was nothing more. In fact other than the speaker there was nothing on the any walls to indicate a door of any kind. I looked up, seeing nothing of course and began to slide my hands along the ceiling. Finally, my fingers touched a minute crease and tracing it, I thought that I’d been dropped through a trap door...but where? Was I underground or in a cellar? I found nothing on the floor to indicate another way in or out.
Backing up, I felt for the wall behind me and slid down into a seated position. I was Yelena’s prisoner and would have to wait for her to make the next move. I decided to begin meditating. That was something I could do that would make the minutes and hours pass. When my sister wanted to talk to me, she would. I could wait her out.
I don’t know how long I was in the room...days, I think, but exactly how many was impossible to figure.
“Irina!”
I looked toward the speaker. “Da?” My voice cracked.
“Have you thought about my request?” Her voice grated on me.
“Go to hell.” I snapped.
There was no response. Silence. She had cut off communication. Then I heard a sound. It was a door and it was not from overhead. Light poured into the room. I blinked hard and threw my right arm over my eyes. Someone stuck a plastic bottle in my left hand.
“Drink it slowly.” It was not Yelena. It sounded like that of the doctor.
I did as I was told. The water tasted good. I wanted to gulp it down, but previous experience with a lack of water had taught me to be prudent, especially if I wanted to keep it down.
Someone else was in the room. I heard the bowl being picked up and another dropped into its spot. I said nothing, but kept my eyes closed. The doctor was taking my pulse. Then he pulled my arm down.
“Open your eyes.”
“It hurts,” I said, not wishing to do so.
“If you want something to eat...” He left the rest unsaid, but I knew what he meant.
I opened my eyes. He had a small pencil light which he used to look at both my eyes. “Now open your mouth.” He looked and then stood, running the light over my naked body. “Bring the bowl.”
Someone entered and handed a bowl to me. I took it and looked for a spoon. There was none. Yelena’s paranoia. As if I would be able to use it in this room or even escape. I held the bowl up and slowly consumed what was in it. It was warm and I resisted the temptation to gulp it down. No use getting sick. I finished by licking the bowl clean.
I cleared my throat. “How...how long?”
“Evidently not long enough,” said the doctor. He left.
The door slammed shut and I was in pitch blackness again. I felt better even though I’d had only a minimum of food and drink. I sank back against the wall wondering how much longer this was going to continue.
I’m sure days passed before anyone came to see me. I was feeling dizzy this time. I essentially was being sensory deprived. It obviously was Yelena’s way to get the information. She was a fool, if she thought I’d give in. I had to keep myself thinking about other things and other people. I thought about Jack, but that just caused my heart to race. Then I thought about Sydney and I thought about Nadia. Where was she? Even more important, was she alive? Katya said she was, but no one knew where she’d gone.
“Hey Mom,” came a voice out of the darkness.
I scrambled until I was sitting with my back to a wall. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Mom, Sydney. You wanted to talk to me?”
I blinked. I was delusional. Sydney wasn’t here...she couldn’t be. “Go away.” I whispered. ”You are not real.”
“No, you really don’t want that. You wanted to talk to me and here’s your chance. You can tell me everything.”
I bowed my head, trying to make sense of it. Chyort, why not? Perhaps it would help me through this. I’d wanted to talk to her for so many years, but at CIA there was no chance at a private talk. Everything was videoed and recorded. “Yes, Sydney, I do.”
“SO...I’m here. Go for it.”
“Sydney, I love you. I truly do, in spite of what you may think.” I felt a tear start down my cheek. “I left because I had to. If I didn’t, I was told they would kill you and your father.” I opened my eyes staring into the black, but sensing Sydney’s presence. She really wasn’t, but it felt like she was sitting in front of me.
“Yeah, I think you do, Mom. I do wish you’d been around some more.”
“What...what was it like after I left?”
“I cried a lot. Dad said you were...dead...that you’d been in a car accident. Two days later, he was gone. Emily Sloane came over to hire a nanny for me. Then Dad came home again. I heard him tell Emily that he was going away for he didn’t know how long and that he had to get someone to stay with me for the long term. He said he had money so we wouldn’t be homeless.”
I was silent then said, “He did, didn’t he?” I wondered where he’d hidden it, because our bank account had not been robust when I left. “Was she nice to you?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t care who was there. You were dead and Dad was gone—to prison I learned.”
“When did you learn about...about me?”
“Vaughn and I thought Dad was the KGB agent and were pursuing it. Then there was this meeting Vaughn called to expose Dad. Instead...”
“All those years,” I sighed, “and you were working for CIA as a double agent? What a blow. I’m sorry, Sydney.”
“I cried and ran home to tear up the only picture I had of you and me. Now I wish I hadn’t.”
I was silent again. “I told your father once that I’d never forgotten him; that I pictured him in my mind each day, never knowing if I would ever see him or...you. I also pictured you, but never could see you grown up. You were always a little girl to me.”
“Why didn’t you turn yourself in? Then you could have been around to watch me grow up.”
“I was too far into my job; I’d completed several assignments.”
“Killing those agents.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Why Bill Vaughn?”
“He was a member of The Followers of Rambaldi. He stole Nadia from the KGB and took her to Argentina. He refused to tell me where she was. I killed him figuring that then no one would know. Turned out I was wrong.”
“Yeah...Yelena.”
“Have you seen Nadia?”
“Not yet, but we’re looking.”
“Tell me, Sydney, do you remember your first kiss?”
She hesitated. “Why?”
“Because I’m your mother. If circumstances had been different and I was home, you would have told me.”
“Well it wasn’t anything spectacular. I certainly didn’t tell Dad, although I think he wouldn’t have heard me if I did. It was a boy from my eighth grade class. He took me to see a movie called “Big” with Tom Hanks. He kissed me when he brought me home.”
“Nothing special?”
“Well, it was my first one.” She answered,
“And you didn’t tell your father?”
“Mom, he wasn’t at home.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. “Besides I think he would have killed the boy.”
“When did he teach you the Project Christmas protocols?” I asked because if he’d been in prison, he didn’t do it immediately after my extraction.
“When he got out of prison, but I don’t remember exactly when that was.”
“How was high school?” I decided not to pursue Project Christmas any further. “Did you have a good time? You must have kept up your grades in order to get into UCLA.”
“Yeah, but I was wild. Dad was never home. There was a housekeeper, but she wasn’t exactly the most sympathetic, so I did what I wanted. I tried pot and got sick. Tried drinking beer, which I did like. Drank too much and was really hung-over a couple of times, so stopped it.”
“Sex?”
“Mom, that’s getting too personal. I don’t think I would have told you even if you were home.”
I laughed. “Sydney, I would have found out. By the way, did Jack ever talk to you about...about having sex and protecting yourself?”
She sighed. “No. In fact, he didn’t tell me about menstruating either. The housekeeper did when it first happened. I was twelve.” She paused. “Still I knew some stuff because the girls at school seemed to think it was a big deal in their lives. Now they were grown up and could have sex.”
I groaned mentally. I remember Katya telling me that our mother had told her about periods and what they meant. She got sick with cancer and barely had time to tell me about s ex before she died. Then HE gave me lessons.
“Did you?”
“Well, not right away,” she confessed. “Mom, we were in an AIDS crisis in our country and it was no good having sex. Getting pregnant was stupid...at least I thought so, especially since I wanted to go to college.” She paused. “I wanted to be a teacher like you.”
“You still can, sweetheart, just get out of CIA.”
“I’m going to get Sloane—and you.”
I didn’t think she would ‘get me’ because Yelena was my captor. “Well just now I’m someone else’s prisoner and I don’t think I’ll be free any time soon. Concentrate on Arvin.”
“I’ll get you both.”
“Sydney, stop being so stubborn!” I was peeved by her reasoning. “Get out!”
“Unh uh,” she said.
Then she was gone. I wondered if she’d be back. Of course I knew it was my imagination that brought Sydney to me. I wanted to talk to her for a long, long time and now it seemed so real even though I knew it wasn’t.
“Derevko!” The loud voice grated on my ears. I was slapped hard in the face. “Derevko!” The voice echoed in my ears so loud that I held my hands over them.
My hands were pulled away and I was brought back into a seated position. “Snap out of it. Who were you talking to?”
“Go away.” I mumbled. But I knew it was too late, Sydney had gone...at least for the moment. “Go away...” I began to slump to the right.
Hands caught me and I was shoved back against the wall hard enough to snap me awake. I’d been dreaming or talking in my sleep to Sydney. My God was I dying or just hallucinating? “Go away,” I said distinctly.
“Open your eyes!” It was Yelena’s voice. “I want to show you something.”
“Go to hell,” I said.
“I think you went first, dear sister,” she said. “Drag her out of here.”
Hands pulled at my arms, lifting me up to my feet. I stank, because the two men who lifted me up were holding their breath, at least that’s what it looked like. They hurried me out of the room.
“Clean her up and bring her to me.”
They put me into a shower and turned the water on high. A woman joined them and began washing me from head to foot. I’ve never loved a shower more than this one. It seemed to revive me. I don’t know how long I was there, but long enough to cleanse the filth and stench from my body.
I was put into a hospital gown, taken to another room where they gave me some food. I demolished it in minutes. Then I was marched down a hall to another room which was Yelena’s office.
“Sit down, Irina.” She nodded to the two guards who shoved me into chair and handcuffed me to it.
“Go to hell,” I muttered.
One guard hit me. I was so weak still that I nearly fell out of the chair and would have if I hadn’t been cuffed to it.
“You know you can save yourself a lot of pain if you would simply tell me what I want to know...Il Diluvio.”
“What makes you think I ever saw it?”
“I’m not stupid. I’ve been after that manuscript for years and you probably know it. I traced it to a man who died before I could retrieve it. I learned his son had taken the books to a dealer in St. Petersburg. He swore that that old book was in the box. When I went to the store, I was told I could look at the box, but not take anything. There was no old book by Milo Rambaldi.
“The young clerk told me that the only person who had gone through the box was a woman. He described her very well as she was extremely attractive standing over six feet. I knew it had to be you.”
I shook my head. “No, not me.”
“We shall see, but first I want to show you a video that was taken three nights ago in Vienna.” Yelena walked over to the television. She shoved a tape into the player and turned it on.
I watched in horror as I entered a basement, a glass of champagne in my hand, talking to someone. The view switched and I saw Jack, my Jack, standing there watching me approach. We talked for a moment; then he took me in his arms and we danced. I blinked back tears as we kissed, with some amount of passion. I knew it wasn’t me. I was here. I wasn’t dreaming this.
As the scene continued Jack was asking me something. There was no sound so I couldn’t understand. Suddenly he took out his gun, holding it in front of me. He pulled the trigger and I fell backward into the pool...dead.
He killed me!
I couldn’t move. I was in shock. “Why,” I asked?
“Because you ordered Sydney killed,” smirked Yelena. “You paid Tomasaki, an international assassin to kill your daughter.”
My heart stopped for the moment. “Kill Sydney?”
“Of course. She’s The Chosen One. Sooner or later she and The Passenger would meet and one would kill the other. I am making sure that Nadia, when I find her, will stay alive.”
“You bitch!” I yelled. I knew now why I’d been dunked into the tank. They wanted my DNA to make someone over to look like me. The helix protocol to clone was used on me as it had to double Sydney’s friend, Francie.
“You are going to talk, Irina, sooner or later.” Yelena nodded to the guards who removed me from the chair and took me back to my cell.
SYDNEY AND KATYA
Sydney watched her aunt come off the plane. She had just landed in Vancouver, Canada. They had planned to meet for another financial update. Sydney was pregnant again. She knew she and Vaughn would have a boy this time. Iz was excited when she was told she would soon have a baby brother to help take care of. Sydney was glowing with happiness.
“Katya!” She saw her petite aunt at the last of the first class passengers. She rushed forward to kiss her. “How are you?”
Katya looked at her niece. Sydney would be giving birth very soon. “I’m fine, but look at you. When?”
“Next month. It’s a boy. Iz is so excited and Vaughn is positively bursting with pride.”
“Men!” Katya laughed. She pulled her small case behind her. “Did you make reservations at the hotel?”
“Of course.” The pair had not seen each other for about six months and they each were pleased with what they saw. Katya was unchanged. Sydney was robust in her eighth month of her pregnancy. “Vaughn took Iz skiing and should be back tomorrow. I, of course, would look ridiculous on skis.”
Katya laughed.
Back at the hotel, Sydney ordered a bottle of vodka sent up with a glass of milk. Katya promised to meet within the hour. Sydney opened the door to the suite when she heard a knock. Katya kissed her niece and followed her to the sofa.
“Drink?”
“Yes, vodka.”
“Straight or on the rocks.”
Katya snorted. “Sydushka!”
Sydney handed her a glass filled with vodka. She sat down with her glass of milk. Katya took a swallow.
“So, is there anything else new?”
“No, just Jack.” She pointed to her stomach.
“So you decided on a name?”
“Jackson William.”
“Ahhh.” Katya took another sip. She knew the William was for Vaughn’s father. She looked at her niece. “Did you ever find him? Jack, I mean.”
Sydney sobered, shaking her head. “They told us the cave had collapsed and that it was possible he’d gone back inside. I knew he had when we couldn’t find him. My guess is that he...” she paused. “...that he some how blew up the cave with Arvin in it.”
Katya sighed. What a waste. She liked Jack and from the little she gleaned during the years she and Rishka talked, her sister loved him. “Shall we?” She pointed at her brief case. Sydney nodded.
Two hours later Katya put away the papers that required Sydney’s signature and the financial reports she had brought.
“Dinner?” Asked Sydney. “We can eat here or go out.”
“Out, Sydushka, Vancouver has many fine restaurants.”
“Nothing too spicy. Jackson objects when I do.”
Katya laughed, “Very well. You get ready and I’ll find us a good one.”
Sydney disappeared and Katya made a call to the front desk. When her niece returned, she had the restaurant and had made reservations.
They were eating their salads when Sydney asked a strange question. “Do you believe in telepathy or thought transference?”
Katya’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“I’m reading Mom’s journal she wrote after Yelena captured her. She mentions in it that she had a conversation with me. She thought she was delusional at the time.”
“And you?”
“It’s strange and I’m telling you only because you’re my aunt and knew Mom, but I had the strangest dream one night. I never forgot it. I dreamed Mom and I were talking about me when I was young...just like she describes in the journal.”
Katya took a sip of water. “Your mother had some strange qualities about her that I never probed. It’s possible...” She stared off into space, thinking about something that had happened recently. She decided not to say anything to Sydney.
“Did you have any odd occurrence happen to you with Mom?”
“No,” said Katya firmly. “Nothing like you described.”
14. Heart Attack
I don’t know how long I’ve been here. They come periodically to feed me and sometimes to bathe me. It doesn’t take long for the stench of my tiny room to permeate my hair and body. I’m taken to see Yelena who questions me. I refuse and back I go to the prison room. Yelena has developed patience beyond my expectations.
One morning they came to get me. I was shoved into the shower, scrubbed, and dressed in a white gown. Instead of my prison, they marched me down the hall to that white room I awakened in days and days ago. I was placed in a reclining chair and ankles and wrists locked down. They pulled a wide metal band over my abdomen.
The doctor then attached pads with wires leading to a machine. There were several on my chest and under my left arm. I recognized an EKG machine. Now what? The doctor went to another table that had several instruments on it.
Just then the door opened and Yelena came in, a smile on her face. “SO sister, have you thought more about giving me the information I want?”
“Poshla k chyortu,” I snarled.
“Very well. I think you should know that you are going to feel pain as you’ve never felt before, not even in Kashmir. It will be so excruciating that you will think you are dying. Your heart will actually stop. We’ll bring you back though. I don’t want to kill you yet, sister dear.” She patted my face and stepped back, motioning to the doctor to continue.
He began to inject the liquid into my vein. For a few seconds, I felt nothing. Then pain, waves of pain streaked from my head to my toes. The pain was excruciating. It rippled through my body, time after time after time until I felt sweat running off my face. My heart rate rose with every wave of pain. It was so loud; I thought I heard it pounding through my chest and would burst through any moment. I screamed and screamed again; then I lost consciousness.
I woke up in a bed and thought my body was still shaking. I knew my heart was racing. Not good. I closed my eyes, wondering if I could sleep. They shackled my ankles and wrists to the bed frame so I could not move. A man entered the room with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. He quickly checked my heart and pressure. I gave him a lesson in Russian swearing, which didn’t faze him a bit. He smiled at me, wrote something on my chart which was hooked to the bed frame and left.
I didn’t care; it made me feel good to swear. I hadn’t lost it yet. I looked at the restraints. They were solid; I would not escape from them. I closed my eyes, calming myself, and wondered when Yelena would come back. Periodically, the doctor came into my room and looked at the chart. He never spoke to me. No one spoke to me. However, I did get food for the first time on a regular basis.
Three days passed. Then the two guards entered and took me out of the restraints. I was weak, but they practically dragged me down the hall two doors and into the third. The room with the chair. I was put into the chair and restrained as before.
Yelena entered the room. “And did you think about pain? Are you ready to give me information?”
‘Nyet!” I said.
The doctor appeared by my side and inserted the needle into my vein. Waves of pain struck without warning. Every nerve ending burned as though on fire. I gasped for breath willing myself not to scream. My chest heaved. I strained against the chair trying to break the restraints, but could not. Pain pulsated, throbbed and shot through me time and time again, until I screamed obscenities by the dozen at the doctor, at Yelena, and at the guards.
I collapsed, lost consciousness and...died.
I opened my eyes when I felt someone shake me. Chyort, I was still breathing. That meant the doctor and Yelena brought me back. My heart feels as though it’s racing, but other than that, I felt okay. I closed my eyes and shuddered. It was scary losing consciousness and thinking you were dying. Yelena was right the pain was awful and even worse. I wasn’t going to tell her. I closed my eyes again and fell asleep.
I began losing track of the number of times I was given the injections. At first it seemed like every two or three days. I was numbed by the pain and went into cardiac arrest every time. I do know the ‘treatments’ seemed to get farther and farther apart, until the anticipation of what would happen became almost too much to bear.
In between the ‘treatments’, I was left alone. Fed and bathed by my guards, but never allowed to do it myself. It was a change in tactics designed to humiliate me. Yelena thought it would hasten my willingness to talk. I couldn’t exercise either. They kept me chained down day after day. They even made me use a bed pan to eliminate urine and feces. It infuriated, but didn’t break me.
After a period of two or three weeks, Yelena ordered me back to the room and it began all over again. The doctor informed her that my blood pressure had risen everyday and that I probably would collapse sooner this time because of the heightened anticipation.
“Good,” she said and left the room.
The pain exploded once more over my entire body. I gripped the arms of the chair and thrashed as much as was possible, which was very little given the circumstances. Then I screamed and screamed and screamed...
“Sydney, Sydney!” I cried. “Please come, please!” I took deep breaths trying to erase the pain and the terror I was feeling.
“Mom?” The voice was hesitant, curious. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know!” I sobbed. I know my voice was weak and not very positive. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Tell me about Danny.” If I could just get my mind off the terrible pain.
“Danny? But he’s...:
“I know, but he was there with you during your UCLA days. How did you meet?” I was crying, but I knew she didn’t know.
“He was going to be a pediatric heart specialist. We met in the cafeteria. He was nose-deep in a book when I sat down. The room was filled and his table had an empty chair, so I took it. He barely looked up and just grunted when I asked if it was alright since every table was full.”
“Did he recognize how pretty you were?”
Sydney hesitated almost laughing, “Well I really thought he was good looking and was a pre-med student. So I checked the cafeteria the next day and he was there again. I sat down again. He didn’t even notice me until the fifth time I sat down.”
I laughed. It was the first time I’d heard me laugh for months; that is, if I did...maybe I was imagining all of this. “So...”
“He said, ‘this is getting to be a habit” and looked at me for the first time. I just grinned at him. “True,” I said, “but I wondered how long it would take you to look at me and maybe...ask me out on a date.”
“...and...?” I prodded.
“He looked at me from head to toe, nodded, “How about dinner?”
“Sure!” I told him where my dorm was.
“Unh uh, you meet me at the Pizza Palace in Westwood. Know it?”
“Yeah?”
“Be there promptly at 7:00 p.m.”
“Aren’t you supposed to pick me up?”
“I’ve got a test to study for and I’m budgeting my time with you. Take it or leave it.” Sydney laughed. “That was our first date.”
“I take it you made a lasting impression on him.”
“Yeah. We moved in together three months later, just after my freshman year was over.”
“You loved him?”
“Of course. But...” She paused, “...I made a terrible mistake. I told him I worked for the CIA in their black ops company.”
“Sloane found out.” I knew he’d probably had her telephone tapped.
“Yeah. Danny called, slightly drunk, and left a message on my machine, telling me he would marry me in spite of my special work. That was all Security at SD-6 needed to hear. They told Sloane. I was away and I found him in our bathtub, very, very dead.” Sydney stopped.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” My pain was subsiding. I wanted to sleep. “Talk to you later.”
Days passed, maybe months, but I was fighting to stay sane enough to deny Yelena access to Il Diluvio. She changed tactics after letting me stew in terror as I was anticipating my next visit to the room. I was finally taken to the chair. The doctor took my blood pressure which was high...too high. He told Yelena that I would have to be monitored 24/7. There was the possibility I would have a heart attack not associated with the injection.
“Hear that, dear sister? An unprovoked heart attack...and we might not get to you in time.” She smirked.
“frack you,” I cried, tears running down my face as I watched the doctor approach with the syringe.
It took another week. Four more times they took me into the room with the chair. I screamed myself hoarse, but Yelena was implacable. The doctor warned her that I was close to dying simply because my heart was been overworked and the stress on it reviving me might cause it to stop entirely. At this point, I hoped I would die soon, but that was not to be.
She didn’t need to worry. I broke down when I came out of the last injection. I was weak, hungry, and shaking so badly my bed rattled. Tears streamed down my face as I said I would cooperate. Yelena’s men came and took me to the showers. I was washed thoroughly, top to bottom. I was fed small amounts of good food and given plenty of water.
They brought me, dressed in clean clothes, but shackled, to Yelena. They put me down in a chair facing her.
“I want everything you read in Il Diluvio,” said Yelena. She had a syringe lying on the desk in front of her. “Hesitating will only mean another bout with your devils.”
I began. I told her everything from the beginning of the manuscript to its end. I drew pictures of the machine and everything that Rambaldi had included in the directions of how to get it to work.
I was with her for ten hours before I collapsed exhausted. I awoke in a bad that was much more comfortable than the last. I stretched and the door opened to admit my two caretakers. They pulled me out, shackled me and walked me back into Yelena’s office. We continued where I left off. She was already at work to end the world as Rambaldi saw it, but I didn’t know it.
Three months’ later, the machine was built and ready to be set up. I asked, but Yelena would not tell me. She was working with someone. I didn’t know who it was. They were going to carry out Rambaldi’s plan.
Millions would die.
RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Chto – what
Chto za Chyort – what the devil
poshla k chyortu – go to hell
My head was splitting when I regained consciousness. I was not in the empty building. I was lying flat on a table in a very, very white room. There were machines of some kind lined up against the wall to my left. I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. My wrists were shackled to the table I was on and my ankles similarly held. A wide metal band ran across my abdomen and across my chest which served to fasten me to the table. I couldn’t move.
“Impressive, Irina.” The voice resonated in my head and I knew Yelena had caught up with me.
From somewhere behind me I heard a buzzer and then a clanging as a lock of some kind was thrown either manually or electronically. The door opened behind me. I strained to look. However I needn’t, because Yelena moved to my left side, followed by two other figures.
“Awake?” Yelena said.
“Let me go,” I snapped. I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I had to tell her I wasn’t going to let her browbeat me.
She flashed a quick smile. “Of course. All you have to do is tell me about Il Diluvio.”
“Chto?” I knew she’d been looking for that particular Rambaldi manuscript for some time. “I don’t have that—whatever it is.”
“Liar!” She snapped. “Where is it?”
“I don’t have anything by that name. Let me go!”
“No, but we have time to explore your unwillingness to talk. But first we have a little experiment to complete. Doctor!” She stepped to a spot behind me.
The doctor who was the one wearing a white coat. “Yes, Yelena?”
“Start harvesting the protocols.”
The machines started to come on. In my present situation, I could see very little. A noise from above caught my attention and I saw two large hooks descending from the ceiling. I watched with a bit of fear as the doctor hooked one through the buckle on my chest and the other to the band across my abdomen.
“Start the lift.” He said to someone to his right.
I was lying, it seemed, on a padded platform. It was lifted straight up about three feet. The doctor took hold of the platform and moved it with me to a tank on my right. I had not had time to notice it. There was water in it which was roiling. Since there was no steam rising from it, I quickly surmised it was not hot. The platform was moved over the top.
“Chto za chyort,” I yelled.
“Don’t worry, Ms Derevko,” the doctor explained. “You will be submerged only for minute. I would advise you to shut your eyes and mouth.”
The water closed over me and I did what he suggested as he put a clamp over my nose. Then in a second I was completely under water. I felt the water boiling around me, but I knew it wasn’t hot. Still what was happening? I fought against breathing and kept myself calm. I was not afraid because Yelena wasn’t going to harm me until she got what she wanted. I wasn’t planning on giving it to her. I could open my mouth and perhaps drown. That would end her plans...but I wanted to live.
Then the platform was raised and moments later I was back on the table where I’d been a few minutes before. The clamp was removed and I could breathe normally. I took several breaths as water streamed from my body and the clothes I was wearing. The doctor stood next to me, hypodermic needle in his hand. Before I could object or say anything at all, he’d plunged it into my arm.
I awakened sometime later. The room was pitch-black. There was no light anywhere. I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. My clothes were gone, but not the chains. My ankles were shackled. Bending from the waist I was able to ascertain that there was only 18 inches between them. That was not going to allow me much movement—my steps would be limited. However, my wrists were free...no manacles.
“Chyort!” I swore softly. I stood somewhat confused. I decided to find a wall and go from there. Three steps forward and I hit the wall, but not hard enough to cause any injury. I reached up as high as I could. At six feet, my hands reached about two and half feet above my head. Standing on tip toe, I could feel the crease where the ceiling met the wall.
“Start moving, Irina,” I said softly to myself. I slowly shuffled my feet to the left, feeling the wall for any sign of a door or window.
I was careful. I did not know what was in the room...table, chairs, anything to give me a sense of where I might be. I touched nothing as I came to the corner. Now I had to take measure of the room’s size. I worked my way slowly along the wall and used my wing span of six feet to measure it. This particular wall measured eight feet.
My hands explored for something to indicate anything that would give me information. I came to the next corner and my left foot hit something that clanged. I stopped. The item whatever it was moved slightly. I bent down and felt for the object. I found it and lifted it slowly. It was light in weight, but bulky and my fingers sensed it was some kind of bowl. I put both hands around it and lifted it closer. An acrid smell hit my nose and I nearly dropped my urinal.
Okay, that was not a positive find, but a necessary one. I continued my way along the wall after setting the bowl down. This one measured six feet. My hands moved slowly up and down the wall, searching for any kind of crease that would indicate a door, but there was none. I ran my hands along the top where ceiling met wall and there was nothing.
The next side was explored carefully, but there was nothing to indicate any kind of a door. However at the top near the ceiling was a six-inch wide item that felt like mesh of some sort. I tried to pry it off with my fingers, but couldn’t budge it. It was a speaker I thought. Yelena would use it to communicate with me.
I continued exploring the wall, but there was nothing more. In fact other than the speaker there was nothing on the any walls to indicate a door of any kind. I looked up, seeing nothing of course and began to slide my hands along the ceiling. Finally, my fingers touched a minute crease and tracing it, I thought that I’d been dropped through a trap door...but where? Was I underground or in a cellar? I found nothing on the floor to indicate another way in or out.
Backing up, I felt for the wall behind me and slid down into a seated position. I was Yelena’s prisoner and would have to wait for her to make the next move. I decided to begin meditating. That was something I could do that would make the minutes and hours pass. When my sister wanted to talk to me, she would. I could wait her out.
I don’t know how long I was in the room...days, I think, but exactly how many was impossible to figure.
“Irina!”
I looked toward the speaker. “Da?” My voice cracked.
“Have you thought about my request?” Her voice grated on me.
“Go to hell.” I snapped.
There was no response. Silence. She had cut off communication. Then I heard a sound. It was a door and it was not from overhead. Light poured into the room. I blinked hard and threw my right arm over my eyes. Someone stuck a plastic bottle in my left hand.
“Drink it slowly.” It was not Yelena. It sounded like that of the doctor.
I did as I was told. The water tasted good. I wanted to gulp it down, but previous experience with a lack of water had taught me to be prudent, especially if I wanted to keep it down.
Someone else was in the room. I heard the bowl being picked up and another dropped into its spot. I said nothing, but kept my eyes closed. The doctor was taking my pulse. Then he pulled my arm down.
“Open your eyes.”
“It hurts,” I said, not wishing to do so.
“If you want something to eat...” He left the rest unsaid, but I knew what he meant.
I opened my eyes. He had a small pencil light which he used to look at both my eyes. “Now open your mouth.” He looked and then stood, running the light over my naked body. “Bring the bowl.”
Someone entered and handed a bowl to me. I took it and looked for a spoon. There was none. Yelena’s paranoia. As if I would be able to use it in this room or even escape. I held the bowl up and slowly consumed what was in it. It was warm and I resisted the temptation to gulp it down. No use getting sick. I finished by licking the bowl clean.
I cleared my throat. “How...how long?”
“Evidently not long enough,” said the doctor. He left.
The door slammed shut and I was in pitch blackness again. I felt better even though I’d had only a minimum of food and drink. I sank back against the wall wondering how much longer this was going to continue.
I’m sure days passed before anyone came to see me. I was feeling dizzy this time. I essentially was being sensory deprived. It obviously was Yelena’s way to get the information. She was a fool, if she thought I’d give in. I had to keep myself thinking about other things and other people. I thought about Jack, but that just caused my heart to race. Then I thought about Sydney and I thought about Nadia. Where was she? Even more important, was she alive? Katya said she was, but no one knew where she’d gone.
“Hey Mom,” came a voice out of the darkness.
I scrambled until I was sitting with my back to a wall. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Mom, Sydney. You wanted to talk to me?”
I blinked. I was delusional. Sydney wasn’t here...she couldn’t be. “Go away.” I whispered. ”You are not real.”
“No, you really don’t want that. You wanted to talk to me and here’s your chance. You can tell me everything.”
I bowed my head, trying to make sense of it. Chyort, why not? Perhaps it would help me through this. I’d wanted to talk to her for so many years, but at CIA there was no chance at a private talk. Everything was videoed and recorded. “Yes, Sydney, I do.”
“SO...I’m here. Go for it.”
“Sydney, I love you. I truly do, in spite of what you may think.” I felt a tear start down my cheek. “I left because I had to. If I didn’t, I was told they would kill you and your father.” I opened my eyes staring into the black, but sensing Sydney’s presence. She really wasn’t, but it felt like she was sitting in front of me.
“Yeah, I think you do, Mom. I do wish you’d been around some more.”
“What...what was it like after I left?”
“I cried a lot. Dad said you were...dead...that you’d been in a car accident. Two days later, he was gone. Emily Sloane came over to hire a nanny for me. Then Dad came home again. I heard him tell Emily that he was going away for he didn’t know how long and that he had to get someone to stay with me for the long term. He said he had money so we wouldn’t be homeless.”
I was silent then said, “He did, didn’t he?” I wondered where he’d hidden it, because our bank account had not been robust when I left. “Was she nice to you?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t care who was there. You were dead and Dad was gone—to prison I learned.”
“When did you learn about...about me?”
“Vaughn and I thought Dad was the KGB agent and were pursuing it. Then there was this meeting Vaughn called to expose Dad. Instead...”
“All those years,” I sighed, “and you were working for CIA as a double agent? What a blow. I’m sorry, Sydney.”
“I cried and ran home to tear up the only picture I had of you and me. Now I wish I hadn’t.”
I was silent again. “I told your father once that I’d never forgotten him; that I pictured him in my mind each day, never knowing if I would ever see him or...you. I also pictured you, but never could see you grown up. You were always a little girl to me.”
“Why didn’t you turn yourself in? Then you could have been around to watch me grow up.”
“I was too far into my job; I’d completed several assignments.”
“Killing those agents.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Why Bill Vaughn?”
“He was a member of The Followers of Rambaldi. He stole Nadia from the KGB and took her to Argentina. He refused to tell me where she was. I killed him figuring that then no one would know. Turned out I was wrong.”
“Yeah...Yelena.”
“Have you seen Nadia?”
“Not yet, but we’re looking.”
“Tell me, Sydney, do you remember your first kiss?”
She hesitated. “Why?”
“Because I’m your mother. If circumstances had been different and I was home, you would have told me.”
“Well it wasn’t anything spectacular. I certainly didn’t tell Dad, although I think he wouldn’t have heard me if I did. It was a boy from my eighth grade class. He took me to see a movie called “Big” with Tom Hanks. He kissed me when he brought me home.”
“Nothing special?”
“Well, it was my first one.” She answered,
“And you didn’t tell your father?”
“Mom, he wasn’t at home.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. “Besides I think he would have killed the boy.”
“When did he teach you the Project Christmas protocols?” I asked because if he’d been in prison, he didn’t do it immediately after my extraction.
“When he got out of prison, but I don’t remember exactly when that was.”
“How was high school?” I decided not to pursue Project Christmas any further. “Did you have a good time? You must have kept up your grades in order to get into UCLA.”
“Yeah, but I was wild. Dad was never home. There was a housekeeper, but she wasn’t exactly the most sympathetic, so I did what I wanted. I tried pot and got sick. Tried drinking beer, which I did like. Drank too much and was really hung-over a couple of times, so stopped it.”
“Sex?”
“Mom, that’s getting too personal. I don’t think I would have told you even if you were home.”
I laughed. “Sydney, I would have found out. By the way, did Jack ever talk to you about...about having sex and protecting yourself?”
She sighed. “No. In fact, he didn’t tell me about menstruating either. The housekeeper did when it first happened. I was twelve.” She paused. “Still I knew some stuff because the girls at school seemed to think it was a big deal in their lives. Now they were grown up and could have sex.”
I groaned mentally. I remember Katya telling me that our mother had told her about periods and what they meant. She got sick with cancer and barely had time to tell me about s ex before she died. Then HE gave me lessons.
“Did you?”
“Well, not right away,” she confessed. “Mom, we were in an AIDS crisis in our country and it was no good having sex. Getting pregnant was stupid...at least I thought so, especially since I wanted to go to college.” She paused. “I wanted to be a teacher like you.”
“You still can, sweetheart, just get out of CIA.”
“I’m going to get Sloane—and you.”
I didn’t think she would ‘get me’ because Yelena was my captor. “Well just now I’m someone else’s prisoner and I don’t think I’ll be free any time soon. Concentrate on Arvin.”
“I’ll get you both.”
“Sydney, stop being so stubborn!” I was peeved by her reasoning. “Get out!”
“Unh uh,” she said.
Then she was gone. I wondered if she’d be back. Of course I knew it was my imagination that brought Sydney to me. I wanted to talk to her for a long, long time and now it seemed so real even though I knew it wasn’t.
“Derevko!” The loud voice grated on my ears. I was slapped hard in the face. “Derevko!” The voice echoed in my ears so loud that I held my hands over them.
My hands were pulled away and I was brought back into a seated position. “Snap out of it. Who were you talking to?”
“Go away.” I mumbled. But I knew it was too late, Sydney had gone...at least for the moment. “Go away...” I began to slump to the right.
Hands caught me and I was shoved back against the wall hard enough to snap me awake. I’d been dreaming or talking in my sleep to Sydney. My God was I dying or just hallucinating? “Go away,” I said distinctly.
“Open your eyes!” It was Yelena’s voice. “I want to show you something.”
“Go to hell,” I said.
“I think you went first, dear sister,” she said. “Drag her out of here.”
Hands pulled at my arms, lifting me up to my feet. I stank, because the two men who lifted me up were holding their breath, at least that’s what it looked like. They hurried me out of the room.
“Clean her up and bring her to me.”
They put me into a shower and turned the water on high. A woman joined them and began washing me from head to foot. I’ve never loved a shower more than this one. It seemed to revive me. I don’t know how long I was there, but long enough to cleanse the filth and stench from my body.
I was put into a hospital gown, taken to another room where they gave me some food. I demolished it in minutes. Then I was marched down a hall to another room which was Yelena’s office.
“Sit down, Irina.” She nodded to the two guards who shoved me into chair and handcuffed me to it.
“Go to hell,” I muttered.
One guard hit me. I was so weak still that I nearly fell out of the chair and would have if I hadn’t been cuffed to it.
“You know you can save yourself a lot of pain if you would simply tell me what I want to know...Il Diluvio.”
“What makes you think I ever saw it?”
“I’m not stupid. I’ve been after that manuscript for years and you probably know it. I traced it to a man who died before I could retrieve it. I learned his son had taken the books to a dealer in St. Petersburg. He swore that that old book was in the box. When I went to the store, I was told I could look at the box, but not take anything. There was no old book by Milo Rambaldi.
“The young clerk told me that the only person who had gone through the box was a woman. He described her very well as she was extremely attractive standing over six feet. I knew it had to be you.”
I shook my head. “No, not me.”
“We shall see, but first I want to show you a video that was taken three nights ago in Vienna.” Yelena walked over to the television. She shoved a tape into the player and turned it on.
I watched in horror as I entered a basement, a glass of champagne in my hand, talking to someone. The view switched and I saw Jack, my Jack, standing there watching me approach. We talked for a moment; then he took me in his arms and we danced. I blinked back tears as we kissed, with some amount of passion. I knew it wasn’t me. I was here. I wasn’t dreaming this.
As the scene continued Jack was asking me something. There was no sound so I couldn’t understand. Suddenly he took out his gun, holding it in front of me. He pulled the trigger and I fell backward into the pool...dead.
He killed me!
I couldn’t move. I was in shock. “Why,” I asked?
“Because you ordered Sydney killed,” smirked Yelena. “You paid Tomasaki, an international assassin to kill your daughter.”
My heart stopped for the moment. “Kill Sydney?”
“Of course. She’s The Chosen One. Sooner or later she and The Passenger would meet and one would kill the other. I am making sure that Nadia, when I find her, will stay alive.”
“You bitch!” I yelled. I knew now why I’d been dunked into the tank. They wanted my DNA to make someone over to look like me. The helix protocol to clone was used on me as it had to double Sydney’s friend, Francie.
“You are going to talk, Irina, sooner or later.” Yelena nodded to the guards who removed me from the chair and took me back to my cell.
SYDNEY AND KATYA
Sydney watched her aunt come off the plane. She had just landed in Vancouver, Canada. They had planned to meet for another financial update. Sydney was pregnant again. She knew she and Vaughn would have a boy this time. Iz was excited when she was told she would soon have a baby brother to help take care of. Sydney was glowing with happiness.
“Katya!” She saw her petite aunt at the last of the first class passengers. She rushed forward to kiss her. “How are you?”
Katya looked at her niece. Sydney would be giving birth very soon. “I’m fine, but look at you. When?”
“Next month. It’s a boy. Iz is so excited and Vaughn is positively bursting with pride.”
“Men!” Katya laughed. She pulled her small case behind her. “Did you make reservations at the hotel?”
“Of course.” The pair had not seen each other for about six months and they each were pleased with what they saw. Katya was unchanged. Sydney was robust in her eighth month of her pregnancy. “Vaughn took Iz skiing and should be back tomorrow. I, of course, would look ridiculous on skis.”
Katya laughed.
Back at the hotel, Sydney ordered a bottle of vodka sent up with a glass of milk. Katya promised to meet within the hour. Sydney opened the door to the suite when she heard a knock. Katya kissed her niece and followed her to the sofa.
“Drink?”
“Yes, vodka.”
“Straight or on the rocks.”
Katya snorted. “Sydushka!”
Sydney handed her a glass filled with vodka. She sat down with her glass of milk. Katya took a swallow.
“So, is there anything else new?”
“No, just Jack.” She pointed to her stomach.
“So you decided on a name?”
“Jackson William.”
“Ahhh.” Katya took another sip. She knew the William was for Vaughn’s father. She looked at her niece. “Did you ever find him? Jack, I mean.”
Sydney sobered, shaking her head. “They told us the cave had collapsed and that it was possible he’d gone back inside. I knew he had when we couldn’t find him. My guess is that he...” she paused. “...that he some how blew up the cave with Arvin in it.”
Katya sighed. What a waste. She liked Jack and from the little she gleaned during the years she and Rishka talked, her sister loved him. “Shall we?” She pointed at her brief case. Sydney nodded.
Two hours later Katya put away the papers that required Sydney’s signature and the financial reports she had brought.
“Dinner?” Asked Sydney. “We can eat here or go out.”
“Out, Sydushka, Vancouver has many fine restaurants.”
“Nothing too spicy. Jackson objects when I do.”
Katya laughed, “Very well. You get ready and I’ll find us a good one.”
Sydney disappeared and Katya made a call to the front desk. When her niece returned, she had the restaurant and had made reservations.
They were eating their salads when Sydney asked a strange question. “Do you believe in telepathy or thought transference?”
Katya’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“I’m reading Mom’s journal she wrote after Yelena captured her. She mentions in it that she had a conversation with me. She thought she was delusional at the time.”
“And you?”
“It’s strange and I’m telling you only because you’re my aunt and knew Mom, but I had the strangest dream one night. I never forgot it. I dreamed Mom and I were talking about me when I was young...just like she describes in the journal.”
Katya took a sip of water. “Your mother had some strange qualities about her that I never probed. It’s possible...” She stared off into space, thinking about something that had happened recently. She decided not to say anything to Sydney.
“Did you have any odd occurrence happen to you with Mom?”
“No,” said Katya firmly. “Nothing like you described.”
14. Heart Attack
I don’t know how long I’ve been here. They come periodically to feed me and sometimes to bathe me. It doesn’t take long for the stench of my tiny room to permeate my hair and body. I’m taken to see Yelena who questions me. I refuse and back I go to the prison room. Yelena has developed patience beyond my expectations.
One morning they came to get me. I was shoved into the shower, scrubbed, and dressed in a white gown. Instead of my prison, they marched me down the hall to that white room I awakened in days and days ago. I was placed in a reclining chair and ankles and wrists locked down. They pulled a wide metal band over my abdomen.
The doctor then attached pads with wires leading to a machine. There were several on my chest and under my left arm. I recognized an EKG machine. Now what? The doctor went to another table that had several instruments on it.
Just then the door opened and Yelena came in, a smile on her face. “SO sister, have you thought more about giving me the information I want?”
“Poshla k chyortu,” I snarled.
“Very well. I think you should know that you are going to feel pain as you’ve never felt before, not even in Kashmir. It will be so excruciating that you will think you are dying. Your heart will actually stop. We’ll bring you back though. I don’t want to kill you yet, sister dear.” She patted my face and stepped back, motioning to the doctor to continue.
He began to inject the liquid into my vein. For a few seconds, I felt nothing. Then pain, waves of pain streaked from my head to my toes. The pain was excruciating. It rippled through my body, time after time after time until I felt sweat running off my face. My heart rate rose with every wave of pain. It was so loud; I thought I heard it pounding through my chest and would burst through any moment. I screamed and screamed again; then I lost consciousness.
I woke up in a bed and thought my body was still shaking. I knew my heart was racing. Not good. I closed my eyes, wondering if I could sleep. They shackled my ankles and wrists to the bed frame so I could not move. A man entered the room with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. He quickly checked my heart and pressure. I gave him a lesson in Russian swearing, which didn’t faze him a bit. He smiled at me, wrote something on my chart which was hooked to the bed frame and left.
I didn’t care; it made me feel good to swear. I hadn’t lost it yet. I looked at the restraints. They were solid; I would not escape from them. I closed my eyes, calming myself, and wondered when Yelena would come back. Periodically, the doctor came into my room and looked at the chart. He never spoke to me. No one spoke to me. However, I did get food for the first time on a regular basis.
Three days passed. Then the two guards entered and took me out of the restraints. I was weak, but they practically dragged me down the hall two doors and into the third. The room with the chair. I was put into the chair and restrained as before.
Yelena entered the room. “And did you think about pain? Are you ready to give me information?”
‘Nyet!” I said.
The doctor appeared by my side and inserted the needle into my vein. Waves of pain struck without warning. Every nerve ending burned as though on fire. I gasped for breath willing myself not to scream. My chest heaved. I strained against the chair trying to break the restraints, but could not. Pain pulsated, throbbed and shot through me time and time again, until I screamed obscenities by the dozen at the doctor, at Yelena, and at the guards.
I collapsed, lost consciousness and...died.
I opened my eyes when I felt someone shake me. Chyort, I was still breathing. That meant the doctor and Yelena brought me back. My heart feels as though it’s racing, but other than that, I felt okay. I closed my eyes and shuddered. It was scary losing consciousness and thinking you were dying. Yelena was right the pain was awful and even worse. I wasn’t going to tell her. I closed my eyes again and fell asleep.
I began losing track of the number of times I was given the injections. At first it seemed like every two or three days. I was numbed by the pain and went into cardiac arrest every time. I do know the ‘treatments’ seemed to get farther and farther apart, until the anticipation of what would happen became almost too much to bear.
In between the ‘treatments’, I was left alone. Fed and bathed by my guards, but never allowed to do it myself. It was a change in tactics designed to humiliate me. Yelena thought it would hasten my willingness to talk. I couldn’t exercise either. They kept me chained down day after day. They even made me use a bed pan to eliminate urine and feces. It infuriated, but didn’t break me.
After a period of two or three weeks, Yelena ordered me back to the room and it began all over again. The doctor informed her that my blood pressure had risen everyday and that I probably would collapse sooner this time because of the heightened anticipation.
“Good,” she said and left the room.
The pain exploded once more over my entire body. I gripped the arms of the chair and thrashed as much as was possible, which was very little given the circumstances. Then I screamed and screamed and screamed...
“Sydney, Sydney!” I cried. “Please come, please!” I took deep breaths trying to erase the pain and the terror I was feeling.
“Mom?” The voice was hesitant, curious. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know!” I sobbed. I know my voice was weak and not very positive. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Tell me about Danny.” If I could just get my mind off the terrible pain.
“Danny? But he’s...:
“I know, but he was there with you during your UCLA days. How did you meet?” I was crying, but I knew she didn’t know.
“He was going to be a pediatric heart specialist. We met in the cafeteria. He was nose-deep in a book when I sat down. The room was filled and his table had an empty chair, so I took it. He barely looked up and just grunted when I asked if it was alright since every table was full.”
“Did he recognize how pretty you were?”
Sydney hesitated almost laughing, “Well I really thought he was good looking and was a pre-med student. So I checked the cafeteria the next day and he was there again. I sat down again. He didn’t even notice me until the fifth time I sat down.”
I laughed. It was the first time I’d heard me laugh for months; that is, if I did...maybe I was imagining all of this. “So...”
“He said, ‘this is getting to be a habit” and looked at me for the first time. I just grinned at him. “True,” I said, “but I wondered how long it would take you to look at me and maybe...ask me out on a date.”
“...and...?” I prodded.
“He looked at me from head to toe, nodded, “How about dinner?”
“Sure!” I told him where my dorm was.
“Unh uh, you meet me at the Pizza Palace in Westwood. Know it?”
“Yeah?”
“Be there promptly at 7:00 p.m.”
“Aren’t you supposed to pick me up?”
“I’ve got a test to study for and I’m budgeting my time with you. Take it or leave it.” Sydney laughed. “That was our first date.”
“I take it you made a lasting impression on him.”
“Yeah. We moved in together three months later, just after my freshman year was over.”
“You loved him?”
“Of course. But...” She paused, “...I made a terrible mistake. I told him I worked for the CIA in their black ops company.”
“Sloane found out.” I knew he’d probably had her telephone tapped.
“Yeah. Danny called, slightly drunk, and left a message on my machine, telling me he would marry me in spite of my special work. That was all Security at SD-6 needed to hear. They told Sloane. I was away and I found him in our bathtub, very, very dead.” Sydney stopped.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” My pain was subsiding. I wanted to sleep. “Talk to you later.”
Days passed, maybe months, but I was fighting to stay sane enough to deny Yelena access to Il Diluvio. She changed tactics after letting me stew in terror as I was anticipating my next visit to the room. I was finally taken to the chair. The doctor took my blood pressure which was high...too high. He told Yelena that I would have to be monitored 24/7. There was the possibility I would have a heart attack not associated with the injection.
“Hear that, dear sister? An unprovoked heart attack...and we might not get to you in time.” She smirked.
“frack you,” I cried, tears running down my face as I watched the doctor approach with the syringe.
It took another week. Four more times they took me into the room with the chair. I screamed myself hoarse, but Yelena was implacable. The doctor warned her that I was close to dying simply because my heart was been overworked and the stress on it reviving me might cause it to stop entirely. At this point, I hoped I would die soon, but that was not to be.
She didn’t need to worry. I broke down when I came out of the last injection. I was weak, hungry, and shaking so badly my bed rattled. Tears streamed down my face as I said I would cooperate. Yelena’s men came and took me to the showers. I was washed thoroughly, top to bottom. I was fed small amounts of good food and given plenty of water.
They brought me, dressed in clean clothes, but shackled, to Yelena. They put me down in a chair facing her.
“I want everything you read in Il Diluvio,” said Yelena. She had a syringe lying on the desk in front of her. “Hesitating will only mean another bout with your devils.”
I began. I told her everything from the beginning of the manuscript to its end. I drew pictures of the machine and everything that Rambaldi had included in the directions of how to get it to work.
I was with her for ten hours before I collapsed exhausted. I awoke in a bad that was much more comfortable than the last. I stretched and the door opened to admit my two caretakers. They pulled me out, shackled me and walked me back into Yelena’s office. We continued where I left off. She was already at work to end the world as Rambaldi saw it, but I didn’t know it.
Three months’ later, the machine was built and ready to be set up. I asked, but Yelena would not tell me. She was working with someone. I didn’t know who it was. They were going to carry out Rambaldi’s plan.
Millions would die.
RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Chto – what
Chto za Chyort – what the devil
poshla k chyortu – go to hell