AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is a what if story, brought about by the five seasons of Alias. We know the beginning, the middle, and the ugly ending, which, by and large, no fan truly liked, except the magazine staff. Somehow, I don’t even think some of the actors enjoyed the ending.
However, during the five seasons we lived and died with the Bristows, a thought kept running through my mind. Jack was a harsh critic of his wife, Sydney’s mother, who betrayed him, who spied on him, a CIA agent, for ten years. Duplicitous, Manipulative, Devious…all words to describe a woman he was so in love with that he was oblivious to what she was doing. It very nearly destroyed him. It very nearly destroyed the relationship between his daughter and him.
Therefore, this story is about what if Jack was sent to…Moscow…to marry Irina Derevko. I’ve taken some of what we know and twisted them in order to write the story.
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to JJ Abrams and ABC Television with the exception of those I develop.
RATING: R/NC-17
TURNABOUT
By LENAFAN
PROLOGUE
Somewhere in Virginia
Jack Bristow entered The Farm through an entrance known only to a very few men. He was six foot two, muscular, smooth shaven with the exception of a mustache he’d been ordered to grow. The most prominent feature was his ears, which were large, almost too large for his head. Overall, however, he was a handsome young man of twenty-four.
He trained for five years for the assignment he was about to embark on at a facility known only to his immediate superior, Ben Devlin. He was one of several men and women who lived in a small town near the CIA’s training facility. It was actually located off a road in an isolated area of Virginia’s mountains. It was surrounded by a well-guarded fence. No one ever entered the town and no one left until now. No one at Langley even knew there was a town in the area.
There Jack became proficient in speaking as well as reading Russian to the point that he spoke English with a heavy accent. His linguistic ability was the deciding factor when the CIA recruited him when he was a freshman at the University of West Virginia. He read Russian newspapers, books, plays, scientific articles, anything and everything until he buried his previous life to a place even he couldn’t fathom. Family, school, friends, and home were buried as his memory was blocked from everything in his past.
When he met with Ben Devlin, he was no longer Jonathan Donahue Bristow, CIA agent. He was Ivan Brestov, a young 24-year-old aeronautical engineer with a brilliant career ahead of him. He was a graduate of Irkutsk University’s School of Engineering. He graduated first in his class and assigned to the Science College at the University of Moscow by the Party. They needed brilliant engineers to teach others and Ivan got the job.
Ben Devlin rose when Jack entered the bunker. “Good to see you, Ivan.” He said in Russian.
“Da, you too!” He replied in Russian.
“I don’t have to remind you how important this is. You are going to infiltrate a gigantic devilish organization whose tentacles grip the world and live under the gun, so to speak. I’m not going over that, because I’m sure you would not have taken the job if you didn’t know the risks.”
“What is my assignment?”
“Not what, but—who, is your assignment.” Ben reached into a folder and removed a picture. “This is Irina Annya Derevko. She graduated last year with honors from the KGB Academy. She is single and 22 years old.” He handed the picture to Ivan.
He whistled, responding in Russian, “She’s a stunner.”
“—and a brilliant KGB communications officer. She is a code expert and cryptologist.” He pulled another photo out. “This is her supervisor, Nicholai Petroffskiy. He may or may not have bedded her down yet, but there’s a chance he hasn’t.”
Ivan handed Nicholai’s picture back, but kept Irina’s in his hand. “My job is?”
“Marry her.”
“For…”
“…information about anything and everything. We’ve observed her for over a year now and she does bring a briefcase back to her apartment, one she shares’s with her two sisters.”
“They going to be a problem?”
Ben shrugged. “That will be up to you. They all work for the KGB.” He handed him a heavy packet. “In there are all your papers—everything that will back up your history. Irkutsk is a long way away from Moscow. Your Party membership card is in the wallet. There are about 4000 rubles also to get you from Irkutsk to Moscow. We are going to drop you next Tuesday night. There is no moon. You’ll travel to Moscow by train, as flights out of that city are sparse. That will take you a less than a week.”
“Do I have a place to live?”
“No, but the Party supervisor at the University will most assuredly get you a furnished apartment, one you will not have to share. In the packet are copies of papers you wrote and published. Study them and the theories propounded. They are new to the Russians. We’ve kept the lid on them over here.” He grinned. “Our scientists were a little unhappy about it, but we paid them off with some heavy grants that will take them in another direction.”
“When do I leave?” Ivan held the packet in his hand.
“Tonight. You’ll fly to Los Angeles and from there to Anchorage where you will board the next spy plane flight. You’ll be on board and will jump at the pilot’s command.” Ben wasn’t worried as the young man trained for HALO jumps for several weeks last summer.
“Then if there’s nothing more…”
Ben took the young man’s hand. “God speed, Ivan. Oh, by the way, stay as long as you can. However, if they get suspicious, you know the protocol asking for extraction?”
“Da.” He shook Ben’s hand, turned, and disappeared out the door.
PART 1 - COURTSHIP
Moscow
It was late fall and the light snow had fallen for three days, blanketing the city in white. It was the first snow of the season, but Muscovites took it in stride. This was their city and it was good. Irina Derevkova walked into GUM on her way home. She needed a pair of hose. Making her way past kiosks and stalls, she found herself in a woman’s store where lingerie was sold, including hose.
Paying for her purchase, she stuffed the small package into her briefcase and, nodding to the sales girl, turned to leave. Instead, she bumped into a young man who was waiting in line behind her.
“Sorry,” she said.
“My pleasure,” said the man. “You’re not hurt are you?”
“Nyet, spasibo.”
He smiled at her and nodded, taking her place at the counter. Irina left thinking that he was the nicest man she’d met in a while. She glanced back at him noting he was a couple of inches taller than she was and she was six foot. He good looking even though his ears were a bit larger than most. It didn’t detract from his looks though. She sighed, leaving the building. She still had several blocks to go before reaching her apartment.
She rushed out and turned left to cross over the Moscow River. Darkness was falling and there were not many streetlights. Women walking alone were not safe, not even in the best of areas. She wanted to get to the apartment as fast as she could. Irina pulled the collar of her coat up and shoved her hands into her pockets. Her briefcase hung from her wrist as she hurried along.
Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her and they were quickening. Damn it, she thought. She hoped it didn’t mean trouble. Zamoskvorechie was the old and true Moscow residential area. To live here was the best and safest for those lucky enough to have an apartment. She quickened her own pace.
“Miss?” A voice called out from behind her.
A man’s voice! Irina frowned. She’d heard that voice only recently. “Who are you?” She asked, but didn’t stop.
“Sorry, but we didn’t introduce ourselves back at GUM. Please, I just need some directions. I’m new to Moscow.”
Irina stopped and turned. He was only a step behind. “What do you want? I’m late getting home and my sisters will be worried.”
“Ivan Brestov.” He held out his hand. “I’m a teacher and the Party assigned me to the University, but I don’t know where this is exactly.” He handed her a piece of paper. He flashed her the warmest smile she’d seen in a long time. “I asked the girl at the counter you left, but she didn’t know.”
She peered at the paper and then moved closer to one of the few lights on the street. “Oh, that’s funny; you’ve been assigned to an apartment in my building. Come. We can walk together.”
“Spasibo.” He fell in beside her. “How far is it?”
“Five, six blocks.” She walked fast. He kept up with her.
“I appreciate it, Miss…er…Miss…?”
“Irina, Irina Derevkova,” she answered. “I’m in communications work.” She didn’t want to scare him with the letters KGB. It was evident he was not from Moscow or any place close by.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance and thank you for your kindness.”
Irina smiled to herself. She liked him. He was polite and well brought up. Some of the men she worked with were coarse and ranked, by her, as a bunch of thugs. She liked her supervisor, Nicholai, but had been fending him off for months. He was determined ‘to get into her pants’ as Katya so poetically said it. Yelena simply rolled her eyes and warned Irina to be careful and not acquire his wrath. However, Irina was careful…playful with him, but never acceded to his advances. She walked a tightrope and hoped she could keep him at bay until it was necessary to have him…transferred. Irina was the protégé of a high-ranking director in the KGB and who had no such claims on her, namely sex.
Minutes later, she entered an apartment building having glanced first at a window near the entrance. It was closed. She wouldn’t have to answer any questions about Ivan. Sometimes older sisters could be a pain. Irina wished her parents were still alive, but they weren’t so she had Katya and Yelena instead mothering her.
Irina shut the door behind them. “You are in apartment 3A, upstairs two flights.” She gestured in that direction.
“Spasibo, Irina Derevkova.” He kissed her lightly on one cheek and started up the stairs. Then he turned and looked at her. “I have a question.”
“Da?” She didn’t raise her voice.
“Would it be too much to ask if you’d be willing to show me Moscow? I know no one and you’ve shown a willingness to help a stranger.” He stepped toward her.
“Da,” she whispered, touching her cheek where he’d pressed his lips.
“When?”
“Saturday? It’s a day I am free.”
“What time?” He persisted.
“Ummm, ten o’clock?” She gestured at the door. Irina knew Katya and Yelena would be gone by then.
“I’ll be there,” he nodded toward her door, turned and ran up the stairs whistling.
“Da,” she whispered again. She turned the key in her lock and entered the apartment.
RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Da – Yes
Nyet - No
Spasibo – Thanks, thank you
However, during the five seasons we lived and died with the Bristows, a thought kept running through my mind. Jack was a harsh critic of his wife, Sydney’s mother, who betrayed him, who spied on him, a CIA agent, for ten years. Duplicitous, Manipulative, Devious…all words to describe a woman he was so in love with that he was oblivious to what she was doing. It very nearly destroyed him. It very nearly destroyed the relationship between his daughter and him.
Therefore, this story is about what if Jack was sent to…Moscow…to marry Irina Derevko. I’ve taken some of what we know and twisted them in order to write the story.
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to JJ Abrams and ABC Television with the exception of those I develop.
RATING: R/NC-17
TURNABOUT
By LENAFAN
PROLOGUE
Somewhere in Virginia
Jack Bristow entered The Farm through an entrance known only to a very few men. He was six foot two, muscular, smooth shaven with the exception of a mustache he’d been ordered to grow. The most prominent feature was his ears, which were large, almost too large for his head. Overall, however, he was a handsome young man of twenty-four.
He trained for five years for the assignment he was about to embark on at a facility known only to his immediate superior, Ben Devlin. He was one of several men and women who lived in a small town near the CIA’s training facility. It was actually located off a road in an isolated area of Virginia’s mountains. It was surrounded by a well-guarded fence. No one ever entered the town and no one left until now. No one at Langley even knew there was a town in the area.
There Jack became proficient in speaking as well as reading Russian to the point that he spoke English with a heavy accent. His linguistic ability was the deciding factor when the CIA recruited him when he was a freshman at the University of West Virginia. He read Russian newspapers, books, plays, scientific articles, anything and everything until he buried his previous life to a place even he couldn’t fathom. Family, school, friends, and home were buried as his memory was blocked from everything in his past.
When he met with Ben Devlin, he was no longer Jonathan Donahue Bristow, CIA agent. He was Ivan Brestov, a young 24-year-old aeronautical engineer with a brilliant career ahead of him. He was a graduate of Irkutsk University’s School of Engineering. He graduated first in his class and assigned to the Science College at the University of Moscow by the Party. They needed brilliant engineers to teach others and Ivan got the job.
Ben Devlin rose when Jack entered the bunker. “Good to see you, Ivan.” He said in Russian.
“Da, you too!” He replied in Russian.
“I don’t have to remind you how important this is. You are going to infiltrate a gigantic devilish organization whose tentacles grip the world and live under the gun, so to speak. I’m not going over that, because I’m sure you would not have taken the job if you didn’t know the risks.”
“What is my assignment?”
“Not what, but—who, is your assignment.” Ben reached into a folder and removed a picture. “This is Irina Annya Derevko. She graduated last year with honors from the KGB Academy. She is single and 22 years old.” He handed the picture to Ivan.
He whistled, responding in Russian, “She’s a stunner.”
“—and a brilliant KGB communications officer. She is a code expert and cryptologist.” He pulled another photo out. “This is her supervisor, Nicholai Petroffskiy. He may or may not have bedded her down yet, but there’s a chance he hasn’t.”
Ivan handed Nicholai’s picture back, but kept Irina’s in his hand. “My job is?”
“Marry her.”
“For…”
“…information about anything and everything. We’ve observed her for over a year now and she does bring a briefcase back to her apartment, one she shares’s with her two sisters.”
“They going to be a problem?”
Ben shrugged. “That will be up to you. They all work for the KGB.” He handed him a heavy packet. “In there are all your papers—everything that will back up your history. Irkutsk is a long way away from Moscow. Your Party membership card is in the wallet. There are about 4000 rubles also to get you from Irkutsk to Moscow. We are going to drop you next Tuesday night. There is no moon. You’ll travel to Moscow by train, as flights out of that city are sparse. That will take you a less than a week.”
“Do I have a place to live?”
“No, but the Party supervisor at the University will most assuredly get you a furnished apartment, one you will not have to share. In the packet are copies of papers you wrote and published. Study them and the theories propounded. They are new to the Russians. We’ve kept the lid on them over here.” He grinned. “Our scientists were a little unhappy about it, but we paid them off with some heavy grants that will take them in another direction.”
“When do I leave?” Ivan held the packet in his hand.
“Tonight. You’ll fly to Los Angeles and from there to Anchorage where you will board the next spy plane flight. You’ll be on board and will jump at the pilot’s command.” Ben wasn’t worried as the young man trained for HALO jumps for several weeks last summer.
“Then if there’s nothing more…”
Ben took the young man’s hand. “God speed, Ivan. Oh, by the way, stay as long as you can. However, if they get suspicious, you know the protocol asking for extraction?”
“Da.” He shook Ben’s hand, turned, and disappeared out the door.
PART 1 - COURTSHIP
Moscow
It was late fall and the light snow had fallen for three days, blanketing the city in white. It was the first snow of the season, but Muscovites took it in stride. This was their city and it was good. Irina Derevkova walked into GUM on her way home. She needed a pair of hose. Making her way past kiosks and stalls, she found herself in a woman’s store where lingerie was sold, including hose.
Paying for her purchase, she stuffed the small package into her briefcase and, nodding to the sales girl, turned to leave. Instead, she bumped into a young man who was waiting in line behind her.
“Sorry,” she said.
“My pleasure,” said the man. “You’re not hurt are you?”
“Nyet, spasibo.”
He smiled at her and nodded, taking her place at the counter. Irina left thinking that he was the nicest man she’d met in a while. She glanced back at him noting he was a couple of inches taller than she was and she was six foot. He good looking even though his ears were a bit larger than most. It didn’t detract from his looks though. She sighed, leaving the building. She still had several blocks to go before reaching her apartment.
She rushed out and turned left to cross over the Moscow River. Darkness was falling and there were not many streetlights. Women walking alone were not safe, not even in the best of areas. She wanted to get to the apartment as fast as she could. Irina pulled the collar of her coat up and shoved her hands into her pockets. Her briefcase hung from her wrist as she hurried along.
Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her and they were quickening. Damn it, she thought. She hoped it didn’t mean trouble. Zamoskvorechie was the old and true Moscow residential area. To live here was the best and safest for those lucky enough to have an apartment. She quickened her own pace.
“Miss?” A voice called out from behind her.
A man’s voice! Irina frowned. She’d heard that voice only recently. “Who are you?” She asked, but didn’t stop.
“Sorry, but we didn’t introduce ourselves back at GUM. Please, I just need some directions. I’m new to Moscow.”
Irina stopped and turned. He was only a step behind. “What do you want? I’m late getting home and my sisters will be worried.”
“Ivan Brestov.” He held out his hand. “I’m a teacher and the Party assigned me to the University, but I don’t know where this is exactly.” He handed her a piece of paper. He flashed her the warmest smile she’d seen in a long time. “I asked the girl at the counter you left, but she didn’t know.”
She peered at the paper and then moved closer to one of the few lights on the street. “Oh, that’s funny; you’ve been assigned to an apartment in my building. Come. We can walk together.”
“Spasibo.” He fell in beside her. “How far is it?”
“Five, six blocks.” She walked fast. He kept up with her.
“I appreciate it, Miss…er…Miss…?”
“Irina, Irina Derevkova,” she answered. “I’m in communications work.” She didn’t want to scare him with the letters KGB. It was evident he was not from Moscow or any place close by.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance and thank you for your kindness.”
Irina smiled to herself. She liked him. He was polite and well brought up. Some of the men she worked with were coarse and ranked, by her, as a bunch of thugs. She liked her supervisor, Nicholai, but had been fending him off for months. He was determined ‘to get into her pants’ as Katya so poetically said it. Yelena simply rolled her eyes and warned Irina to be careful and not acquire his wrath. However, Irina was careful…playful with him, but never acceded to his advances. She walked a tightrope and hoped she could keep him at bay until it was necessary to have him…transferred. Irina was the protégé of a high-ranking director in the KGB and who had no such claims on her, namely sex.
Minutes later, she entered an apartment building having glanced first at a window near the entrance. It was closed. She wouldn’t have to answer any questions about Ivan. Sometimes older sisters could be a pain. Irina wished her parents were still alive, but they weren’t so she had Katya and Yelena instead mothering her.
Irina shut the door behind them. “You are in apartment 3A, upstairs two flights.” She gestured in that direction.
“Spasibo, Irina Derevkova.” He kissed her lightly on one cheek and started up the stairs. Then he turned and looked at her. “I have a question.”
“Da?” She didn’t raise her voice.
“Would it be too much to ask if you’d be willing to show me Moscow? I know no one and you’ve shown a willingness to help a stranger.” He stepped toward her.
“Da,” she whispered, touching her cheek where he’d pressed his lips.
“When?”
“Saturday? It’s a day I am free.”
“What time?” He persisted.
“Ummm, ten o’clock?” She gestured at the door. Irina knew Katya and Yelena would be gone by then.
“I’ll be there,” he nodded toward her door, turned and ran up the stairs whistling.
“Da,” she whispered again. She turned the key in her lock and entered the apartment.
RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Da – Yes
Nyet - No
Spasibo – Thanks, thank you