At the moment I should either be sleeping or writing my term paper instead of writing this. Who knew that ancient fish hooks could be so interesting? I shall haul myself to the library after dance class tomorrow night and stay there until my work is done!
Enjoy and please review
Chapter 7
Memories
The first thing that she was aware of was the darkness. There was silence and then there was the sound of water rushing down. Arisha gasped as she felt ice cold water splash against her. She heard a clanging sound as someone put down the now empty water bucket. “Who are you?” She screamed into the darkness, but was given no answer.
The water chilled her bones. She shivered as the rivulets slid down her exposed skin and soaked her clothing. What were they trying to do? Give her hypothermia? Her head was still foggy. The aching was gradually subsiding from the after effects of chloroform. Arisha tested her bonds again. Her arms were tightly bound to the armrests of a metal chair. Her legs were shackled similarly. They were keeping her in the darkness.
Arisha heard footsteps approaching and then a light went on nearby. She tried to look for the source, but between the drenched locks of hair hanging over her face and her blurry vision she failed.
The footsteps came closer until Arisha realized someone was right in front of her. “You have nothing to be afraid of, little girl.”
Arisha felt a hand gently push the hair from her face. She looked up at a middle-aged woman with an oddly familiar face. “Who the hell are you?” Arisha shouted. Her arms clenched against the restraints holding her to the chair.
The woman smirked. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.” She pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the younger woman.
“That’s very reassuring,” Arisha shook the water from her hair.
“Sarcasm is not your friend, Arisha.”
“I find it helps in situations like this,” Bristow furrowed her brow. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m a friend,” The woman remarked. There was a hint of Russian in her accent. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Who are you working for? Russian mafia?”
The older woman smiled and sighed. “Nothing like that.”
“Then who?”
“Your parents have been quite worried about you.”
“I’m an orphan.”
“So you openly deny your parentage,” The woman observed. “Do you know what the Covenant would do if they found out who you are? Arisha, they would kill you. They kept your sister for two year and yet they are unaware of your presence.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I know who your mother is. Irina Derevko.”
Arisha drew in a shaky breath and looked the woman in the eye. “Who are you?”
“My name is Katya.”
“Katya Derevko?” Arisha questioned after a moment.
“You’ve heard of me then,” Katya observed. “You’re not as stupid as I first thought.”
“You’ve only known me for about five minutes and you’re already judging me?” Arisha questioned.
Katya laughed. “Just like Irina.”
“Okay then, Katya,” Arisha shrugged wet hair out of her face. “Why didn’t you just come to me instead of the whole kidnapping thing?”
“Would you have talked or run?” Katya stood and crossed her arms. “Irina informed me of your meeting with Sloane in Zurich. What are you running from?”
“The CIA for one,” Arisha remarked. “MI-5, maybe SVR, and the South African government is hunting me because of some diamonds I stole last year. It’s not as if you don’t have skeletons in your closet.”
“How old are you now, Arisha? Twenty-five?” Katya questioned.
“Almost twenty-four,” Arisha answered.
“My God you’re young,” Katya shook her head. “But your mother was much younger when she joined the KGB and found herself married to your father. She had Sydney when she was about your age. The KGB wanted her to terminate that pregnancy. So you can imagine what their reaction was when they found out she was pregnant again.”
“What do you want?” Arisha suddenly snapped. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Giving you something to think about, little one,” Katya smirked. She stood and patted the young woman’s shoulder. “Irina should be here tomorrow. In the mean time be a good girl.” She drew away into the shadows and her disappearance was soon followed by a door slamming.
* * * *
Irina. Arisha cringed at the thought of that name. She remembered the woman looming behind the glass partition at the CIA. Since her encounter with Derevko two years before, many of her memories had returned. Arisha could recall with full clarity the time she had spent in Russia with Irina as a child. Her memory of the actual training she had gone through was still fuzzy, but everything else was there.
She recalled the man Matvei sitting at a desk reading something. He had always been reading. The documents on his desk were old. Arisha had tried to look at them once only to be swiftly reprimanded by her mother. From what she did remember they were written in Old Italian. Matvei Zaitsev had been reading Rambaldi’s manuscripts. What had Zaitsev wanted to tell her? He had said that she had clairvoyant abilities. Arisha found some humor in that. He must have been a loon. Whatever it was he had tried to kill her over it. Still, there were times Arisha recalled that she had known something was going to happen. Too bad it didn’t help me realize my aunt was going to kidnap me! They had made it sound like she was a prophetess or something crazy.
Much like Rambaldi himself had been. Arisha blinked in the darkness as the realization hit. Rambaldi had been an inventor much like Da Vinci, but dissimilarly he had been a prophet. Suddenly she remembered the letter someone had sent to her:
In you Rambaldi sought to preserve the talent that made him so remarkable. Do not be careless, Arisha.
“So I’m psychic then?” Arisha questioned into the air. She doubted anyone was listening. The room was cold and she could swear she would be ill by morning if she remained in the wet clothing. She wondered if Katya would even care.
She shook her head. When had she stopped using her old name? Arisha was merely the alias she had assumed out of convenience. Two years ago she had been Saoirse Flynn, she had been a respectable citizen, and her past had not been chasing her. In her mind half the time she still thought of herself as the British intelligence agent and sometimes had to remind herself that protocol could be broken seeing as she no longer worked for them. She did miss her family sometimes. Her siblings- or at least her adopted siblings - were the last of that family she had. And she had walked out on them.
The depth of her thoughts was broken as she heard the door open and footsteps approached her. The light went on overhead and she met the gaze of the woman standing before her.
“Saoirse?” The familiar voice was warm and tinted with a hint of concern.
Arisha stared into the light. “Hello, Mom.”