Turnabout

2-Birth

Ivan was nervous. His bosses at the University and the Party insisted he go to Prague for another conference regarding his most recent paper, which he published. Irina was in her ninth month and expecting any day. She was cursing him now with the passing of each day she was late. Now he must tell her that he was going to Prague for another conference. He did not relish telling her.

He walked up the steps to the apartment on the second floor. He stood outside their door for ten minutes, trying to figure out a way to tell her the awful news. He told the University President he could not go…that his wife was about to have their first child.

“I am sorry, but you have to go, Ivan. It is important for the Party and for you.”

Ivan nearly cried, “Irina will kill me. She is a week late already; if I go…”

“You have no option.” The President sat down. He tried to look stern, but he did have a great deal of sympathy for the brilliant engineer. However, the Party was not giving an inch.

“I wish they had to face my wife.” Ivan turned around and left the room.

Now was the time. He opened the door and stepped inside. Irina was in the kitchen. She turned when he entered. She was big, very big. Ivan was sure the baby would weigh more than 9 pounds. If she didn’t deliver soon, it might be ten pounds or more. He put his briefcase down, walked over to kiss her.

“No labor pains?”

Her eyes were brimming as if she would cry. She shook her head. “Nyet!”

He sighed. “I have bad news.”

She stared at him suspiciously. “Da…”

“I’m being ordered to Prague for a conference tomorrow. They want me to present my paper!”

She stared at him; then sat down heavily. She began to cry. “Nyet, nyet, nyet…they are monsters.”

“Sweetheart,” Ivan jumped up to put his arms around her. “I begged, but they would not relent. They…they said there were good doctors to help…”

“Sooksin!” Irina replied, wiping the tears from her eyes. “They don’t have to carry a child who is refusing to come out when it’s supposed too!”

“If I disobey…” Ivan knew only too well what would happen, as did she. “We have to manage, Irina!” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently.

Ivan left the next day accompanied by Anton again. He called Irina as soon as they were in the hotel. She was home. Nothing yet. He slept fitfully that night, having purchased a bottle of vodka for Anton, but still hating to be away from Irina. Up early he went downstairs to the front desk and checked for messages. There was one that the clerk gave him without comment.

“Your lecture is in the hall at ten.”

After memorizing it, Ivan burned it. It was a message from the Prague CIA agent stationed at the American Embassy. He quickly returned to his room and decoded it. There was another agent to eliminate. He was a member of the Czech secret police and not a Russian. Ivan was grateful for that. He worried the KGB might put two and two together and come up with the teacher from the University. He had to warn his contact that as he went on lectures to conferences, his extracurricular work must be staggered. He did not want the KGB knocking at his and Irina’s front door.

An hour later, he roused Anton, who was once again in a stupor, hung-over from his drinking bout. Ivan waited for him to shower and dress. He knew Anton had orders to stay with Ivan during the day’s conference and Ivan certainly did not want Anton to get into trouble. He was worried though that the KGB would learn about his drinking problem. They might not assign Anton to be his ‘bodyguard’. Ivan was actually thinking about complaining that Anton was a drunk.

He weighed the pros and cons and assessed Anton’s ability to function during the day. So far, there’d been no trouble. He stuck to Ivan like glue and gave every appearance he was nothing but a sober, serious agent doing his job. Ivan called Irina from the phone downstairs with Anton listening…as he should.

“How are you, milochka?”

“How do you think?” She snapped. Then sounding contrite, she continued. “Sorry but if this child doesn’t make its appearance soon, I’ll rip it out myself!”

“Are your sisters handy today?”

“Nyet!”

Ivan was worried. “Is there anyone at the apartment who can help you? I mean if you get the labor pains.”

“Nyet!”

He groaned. He wanted to be there to help her in case…he sighed, “Please be careful. I present my paper and then maybe I will come home tonight if I can get a plane out of here. I love you.”

“I’m not sure I love you at this moment!” She growled the words as she felt the baby kick her. “I’ve got to pee. Call me if you can come home.”

“Da, sweetheart,” he answered, but she’d already slammed the phone down.

He turned to Anton, “Do you suppose you can get us reservations out tonight?”

Anton sighed. He knew his drinking would be curtailed if they left, but he was a father and he knew what Ivan was going through. “I will try. You present the paper and I go to our Embassy.”

Ivan smiled and nodded. However, he knew he would have the time then to take care of his assignment while Anton was gone.


Ivan sat in his hotel room, waiting for Anton. His mission was accomplished. The weapon assigned to him was on the roof of the building over-looking the police department of Prague. Wearing gloves, dark coat and hat, Ivan found his target in the office directly across the street and shot him. The man was dead. Ivan left the roof making his way to the street below. He knew someone else was close by to remove the rifle and disappear.

There was a knock at his door. “Come in,” he called.

Anton appeared. “I am sorry, Comrade Ivan, but the Embassy cannot help us tonight. They say we have to wait until tomorrow morning.”

“Then let us have dinner and a drink or two. I must call my Irina and tell her the bad news.”

“Of course. Do you want to call now or after dinner?”

“After.” Ivan rose and they left the room.

As they ate dinner in the bar, Anton had several drinks. Ivan decided to have none since it would be suspicious to the KGB when they got the bill to see four drinks. They would suspect nothing if each one had two apiece. When they were finished, Anton accompanied Ivan to the outside telephone. Minutes later, Ivan was talking to Irina, but he watched as Anton moved back to the bar. He knew the man was buying another bottle of vodka.

“Are you okay, darling?”

“Nyet. Our child is seriously making me mad.”

“Hold on, I’ll be home tomorrow. I tried to get a plane out today, but the Embassy said not until tomorrow.”

“I don’t expect our child will make an appearance yet, but both Katya and Yelena are in their apartment. If I need anything they’ll be able to help me.”

“I love you. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

The next day around two in the afternoon, Ivan’s plane landed at the airport. As he left the plane, two men in dark coats approached. Anton was behind Ivan and cleared his throat slightly. He was afraid.

“Ivan Brestov?” One man asked.

“Yes?” Cold fear gripped him for the moment.

“Your wife is at the hospital giving birth. One of us is going to take you and the other will take Anton back to headquarters.”

Ivan took off at a run, “Hurry!”

The other men laughed. Ivan Brestov was about to come up to a woman giving birth and all three knew he might be running into a buzz saw. One man broke after him and led the way to the car. Ivan jumped into the passenger seat, tossing his two bags in the back.

“Don’t worry, my friend, these things take time.”

“My wife is almost two weeks late…it’s already taken too much time.”

They made it to the hospital in less than thirty minutes. Ivan grabbed his two bags and hurried inside where a nurse pointed him in the direction of the maternity ward. He ran frantically to the unit where he found both Katya and Yelena pacing the floor. Both looked at him when he arrived.

“Where is she,” he cried.

“In there.” They pointed as Katya answered.

He ran to the door and pushed it open. “Irina,” he cried. He stopped dead staring at a sight that most men had not seen. Their baby was coming out of Irina, whose face seemed out of shape. She was pushing as hard as she could. The young woman doctor was gently pulling the baby’s head. When the baby’s shoulders came out, she switched and continued pulling using the shoulders. A moment later, the full body and legs were out. Irina gave a gasp of relief and then looked up to see him gaping at the women.

“Ivan! Twenty minutes ago I would have killed you.” Her face was wet with sweat and her long dark hair lie damp on her head.

“Irina, darling! I just arrived here.” He took a tentative step inside.

The doctor turned and shook her finger at him. “Back. We will call you when it is time to see mother and child.”

“It’s a girl,” cried Irina as he turned and left the room.

Katya and Yelena hurried up to him. “What?”

“Amazing, simply amazing,” he said as he sat down, shaking his head. No one ever prepared him for this experience. “We have a baby girl.”

“Good,” said Yelena, “Derevkos have girls.”

“Your father isn’t a Derevko?”

“Derevkos come from mother, grandmother, great grandmother. For some reason, that family line is all girls.”

Ivan didn’t care. All he cared about was the baby was all there and in good health.

TBC :blush:
 
3. Growing up

They named the baby, Alexandra, but Sasha was her nickname whenever speaking to her. Ivan adored her. She was bright and smart, just like her mother, he thought. In the evening, he would take care of her including diapering and putting her to bed. Irina nursed Sasha, but always handed her back to her father. She was thankful that Ivan was so smitten by his daughter. Many friends warned her that men believed taking care of babies was the mother’s job.

“He changes her diapers?” Katya was dumbfounded. She didn’t know one man who would be caught doing such a thing. “I’m impressed.”

“Da and he loves doing it.” Irina was nursing Sasha. Katya had come over to see her niece who was now a month old. “It is a relief now that I must return to work.”

“Who will take care of her while you are away?”

“I’ve made arrangements and I’ll come home to nurse at lunch time.” Irina saw that aspect as necessary until Sasha was through nursing. She pulled her blouse down and gently put the baby over her shoulder and patted her tiny back.

Because he came home before Irina, Ivan picked up Sasha from the neighbor who took care of her while Irina was at work. They settled in a routine that made it easy on them both. Each day saw Sasha grow from a squalling baby into a beautiful little baby girl. To Ivan she was a miracle; to Irina she was a precious gem that made the marriage even better than she could ever imagine. The mere fact Ivan shared the duties in rising the baby made her the envy of every woman who heard about it.

Sasha began talking at six months. Ivan told Irina not to coo and talk what he called ‘baby talk’, but to talk as if she understood everything they said. It was not surprising then that Sasha said “Papa…first and Mama next. Her parents were ecstatic and continued to improve their baby’s vocabulary.

Physically, she was helped by daily manipulations of her legs and arms. Ivan told Irina it would help. “She will walk early. These exercises will strengthen her muscles.”

Sasha continued to make swift progress, both in vocabulary and actions. She crawled at six months and started walking only weeks later, with Papa’s help, of course. Her parents were innovative with her training. Katya and Yelena were astounded at Sasha’s cognitive powers—learning what yes and no meant as well as other commands.

Utilizing his connection to the University, Ivan had baby Sasha tested early. The doctors were surprised and interested in her abilities at nine months. They asked Ivan to bring her back every year. He and Irina were thrilled with their report. To say they were proud of their baby was the understatement of the year.


When she was three years old, Alexandra aka Sasha had an extraordinary vocabulary and understood more than most children her age. Ivan and Irina took her with them everywhere and they were invited to parties given by their fellow co-workers at KGB and at the University. Sasha was a star wherever they went. She chatted, gave outspoken opinions, and charmed every man and woman she encountered no matter where she went with her parents. Both Irina and Ivan learned early not to talk about friends, relations, or co-workers around her. She would repeat anything they said. Sometimes she knew what she was saying, but most of the time the nuances were over her head.

The KGB became interested in the child when Irina mentioned to her supervisor one day of her progress at home. They insisted, much to Ivan’s concern, on having the child tested by their doctors. It was evident they did not trust the University education department. Ivan worried that the organization had some evil intent. Irina told him not to worry. She would see to it that they did not harm Sasha in any way.

“Humph!” was Ivan’s response. He made up his mind though that they would send Sasha to the University school when she was four. They had a good pre-K school. Going there would enhance her abilities even more so. He could take her in the morning with him and bring her home early as he always as able to be home before Irina, whose hours sometimes were long at her office.

During this time, Ivan’s responsibilities at the University increased. His friend, Leon, head of the department, sent him to conferences, workshops and other Universities to teach. Those that sent him out of the country were the result of his applying for grants. He was well-liked by his peers and given another deserved privilege—a new apartment located some two blocks closer to Red Square. This one had two bedrooms. Irina was also moving up in the KGB ranks. She became a supervisor of cryptology with an increase in pay.

When Ivan was away those one, two, or even three nights on assignment from the Party or University, he had his constant bodyguard, Anton. The man still drank, but as far as Ivan could learn, it was only when he was with him. He evidently was able to maintain his job still without being found out. Ivan suspected he drank, but kept it quiet when he was in Moscow at work. Being with Ivan gave him a chance to drink heavily because his charge was never trouble.

This was fortunate for Ivan’s other ‘job’ which at times could have been stressful if not for the fact Anton was sleeping off the bender he went on the night he completed his ‘black-ops’ assignments. He never did it the same way more than twice. The killings so far were scattered over a period of the six years he was in Russia. He was quick and silent whenever he killed. There was never any suspicion of the young professor from the University of Moscow. He never gave the KGB any reason to suspect he was anything but a teacher of aeronautics.


Life was good in Moscow for the most part and Ivan felt comfortable even though he knew it could dissolve in a minute’s carelessness. He was watchful and made no mistakes. He loved Irina passionately even though they’d been married for over eight years. Their lovemaking had changed very little over that period. There were times when Ivan surprised Irina by taking her in places and ways she was not suspecting. Once when they were on vacation, they made love on the beach during a rainstorm and another time when they went camping with Sasha and they love in their sleeping bag.

Irina never told anything to Katya or Yelena about their love life, especially since Yelena did not seem interested in marriage and Katya bedded any man who would give her sex. She did not want to get married thought Ivan. However, Irina swore that if the right man came along, she thought Katya would marry. Yelena she gave up on some time ago. Her eldest sister was creeping into middle age and looked set in her ways.

It was in the spring of their ninth year together that Ivan made a discovery in Irina’s briefcase. The KGB was putting a program together that would turn children into spies as they reach their twenties. Called Project Education, it was Irina’s idea. When the KGB hierarchy gave the green light, they gave her the go, putting her in charge of the project’s development. Ivan thought the title boring, but then he photographed the information and was amazed at the premise of the project. He quickly passed it on to the CIA.

The following weeks Ben Devlin, who was the only man to act as Ivan’s handler, pressed him to get all the information he could on the project. This forced him to visit her briefcase every time she came home and it caused stress beyond what his comfort level was. He did not like it. He was used to sending information in irregular times so that any spies at home would not catch on that there was a spy or mole in the KGB. They would think that no one had the same information they had. The CIA was using codes and cryptology from Russia very judiciously. They were safe doing so, and therefore, so was Ivan.

Now, however, the CIA (Ben Devlin) was pressing him for increasing amounts of information on the Education Project. Ivan became increasingly upset with his boss, who had no idea the danger involved. He loved Irina and Sasha. He also knew that if he increased his ‘peeking’ into his wife’s briefcase, there would be trouble. Ivan decided to continue as he had been doing and not give in to their demands. His safety demanded it plus there was also the possibility Irina would get into trouble, severe trouble.

However, even though Ben kept pressing, he gave him only bits and pieces. He did not want to be caught and most likely executed. He loved his family and Ivan did not want to lose them. Although he was a spy, living a lie, to him it wasn’t, at least on the surface of his everyday life. Since he didn’t use his ‘talents’ each moment, minute or hour, he felt free enough to indulge himself to the degree he believed he would live with Irina the rest of their lives and bring up Sasha for as long as they were together. Perhaps, they would even have another child.

That was about to change and his life, their lives, would never be the same again.
TBC
 
Wow, the characters all grow up so quickly - it wasn't that long ago when Ivan was meeting Irina.. now Sasha's all grown up (well, as in not a baby). Time flies... gah, the 'betrayal's soon'!
 
PART 3- DEATH
1-The Mole

Ben Devlin was at his desk when Arvin Sloane knocked. He sat down after Ben asked him to come inside the room.

“What is it, Arvin?”

“I think we have a mole inside the communications department.”

Ben hunched forward in anticipation, “What makes you think that?”

“I was in the department when we got the latest message from Raptor…about the KGB’s Education Project. It was decoded by Smithers, who dropped it in his out file. I didn’t see who it was, but the message was gone from his box for about thirty minutes or less.”

“Did you witness it?”

“No sir, I did not. I was busy with some code work. When I saw it missing, I thought Smithers delivered to you. Then a half hour later, I noticed it was in his out box again. That’s when I thought you better know, just in case it’s true.”

“Okay we’re going to start digging. I want you to list everyone who was in the code section when you entered. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir. There were not too many at the time. Give me a piece of paper and I’ll write their names down now.”

Ben handed him a note pad. He waited, watching Arvin write names down, pausing only to reflect exactly where everyone was when he entered. Finished, he handed the pad back. There were six names on it, including his.

“Why are you on the list?”

“Sir, I believe I should be considered in the investigation. I was in the room.” Arvin’s reply was curtly spoken.

Ben nodded. “Very well…but if anything occurs to you that might lead us to the suspect I expect you to tell me immediately. Raptor may have to be pulled from his assignment.” He sighed, “It may be time anyway.”

Arvin stood. “You can be sure I will. Are you going to pull him out?”

“Perhaps. You can go and thank you. You may have saved a man’s life.” Ben waited until Arvin was gone, before picking up the phone. He dialed the number and then waited for the man at the other end to answer. “Director?”

“Yes, Ben?”

“I believe we have an internal and external problem. Can I come up?”

“Yes. How bad?”

“A mole.”

Five minutes later, Ben Devlin, Deputy Chief of Operations was ushered into the Director’s office. He took at seat in from of the older man who said nothing but waited for his deputy to speak.

“You may or may not know this but we have a deep cover spy in Russia. He’s been there almost ten years.”

The Director sat up. “Why haven’t I been told?”

“The previous Director assigned him to me and said that no one was to know his name or where he was going or what he would be asked to do. I was to handle everything from start to finish. Our man lives in Moscow and teaches aeronautics. He’s married now for about nine years and has a child, a little girl.”

“He’s American?”

“Yes!”

“Good Lord, Ben, and he’s still alive?”

“As far as I know, but there could be problems. I have one man who handles coded messages to and from Ivan. Today, Arvin Sloane, one of our agents, was in the code room.” He continued telling the Director exactly what Arvin told him. “If there is a spy here and he’s learned about our man, we need to extract him immediately.”

The Director looked at him carefully, “Will he come out?”

“He’ll have to if he wants to live.”

“I think you better get him out as quickly as possible.” The Director grinned, “You say he’s been teaching the Russians aeronautical engineering?”

Ben nodded grinning. “He’s also an assassin. In the past nine years, he’s knocked off some ten of the KGB’s agents all over the world.”

“What? My God!” The Director held up his hand. “No, don’t tell anymore. No dates and no names make it easier not to lie in case I’m ever called into a congressional hearing. That won’t happen will it?”

“I doubt it, but we will get him out pronto.” Ben rubbed his chin. “There’s always the possibility he won’t want to come. I am of the belief he loves his wife…and daughter very much.”

“What does his wife do if anything?”

“Ummm, well, let’s say we’ve gotten some very good code and cryptology information about the KGB workings and agents.”

The Director’s mouth opened and closed. “She’s KGB?”

Ben nodded.

“Extract that man immediately. When he gets here, I want to see him.”

“Very well, sir. I’ll keep you informed of the extraction progress as well as our locating the spy here.”

Three days later, Arvin Sloane returned to Ben Devlin’s office. He stood in front of the Deputy’s desk and without preamble, said, “The mole is Victor Kordan. We’ve been following him after doing an in depth background check again. He left work the day in question and drove to a dry cleaning shop where he picked up shirts.

“After he left, agents raided the shop and found the owner in a back room getting ready to make a phone call. He had a piece of paper in his hand.” Arvin handed it to Ben. “The paper doesn’t have a name, but it warns the KGB there is a CIA spy close to them. It had his call sign…Raptor. The owner was arrested and brought here. We have him in an interrogation room. Our agents are probably just now bringing in our mole, Kordan.”

Ben stood. “Good work, Arvin. Let’s hope any previous messages were never sent regarding our man.”

“Interrogation? Can I be permitted to watch?”

“Watch? No, I think you’ve earned the right to do either the mole or the other man. Your choice?”

“The spy.”

“By the way, how long has Kordan been working for us?”

“A little over a year. He’s actually a clerk, not an agent.”

“Ahh…” Ben nodded a bit thankful. “Good job. Now let’s seen how well you can get information from our ex-clerk.”

Arvin’s cell rang. He looked at the caller and then answered. “Sloane!” He listened for a moment. “Good. Put him into interrogation four. I’ll be down shortly.” He turned to Ben. “We’ve arrested him and have him…” He didn’t add anything else because he knew the Director had heard everything.

“Just one tip,” said Ben, “make sure you wait twenty-four hours before you start. He’ll be tired and upset the longer he waits. I think you will get what we want if you do.”

“Yes sir,” Arvin tossed a loose salute and left.


It took seventy-two hours, but Arvin finally broke Kordan. He confessed to everything. Arvin found out that the Russians now suspected they had a spy in their midst; they didn’t know who or where. Kordan didn’t know the name either only the call sign, but he’d been caught and his contact also, before it was revealed to the KGB.

Ben Devlin knew he’d have to extract Ivan as soon as possible. Going to communications he handed his ‘man’ the message, which he’d encrypted himself. “Get this off at once.”

“Yes sir,” the agent began inputting the message. If all went well, their agent would get the message the next morning.

Ben went to his office where he placed a call to naval operations at the Pentagon. In order to get Ivan out, they would have to penetrate Russian waters near St. Petersburg. It had been arranged earlier when Ivan entered the program. He trained for five years before leaving for Irkutsk over nine years ago. Ivan also knew the basic plan for extracting him if it became necessary. Ben did not want to change the original plan, but this time they would have to deviate. Messages were sent to the American Embassy, which were decoded, and passed to Ivan by the routine method. The first destination was not changed.

Ivan was to go to Leningrad on personal business. He would disappear and the police would find his car deep in the harbor some time. There would be no signs of struggle or blood, just an empty car with no sign of the driver. Ben checked the weather reports and knew this time of the year the harbor started icing up. It was fall and the water was colder than anyone could imagine unless he or she were from the area. With luck, no one would find the car in the immediate future. It gave the CIA time to absorb Ivan Brestov back and return him to his previous identity.

When he arrived, he was to check into the Leningrad Hotel where he always stayed when in the city. It was on the Intourist list for those few people who traveled into Russia. They were mostly Finnish or Swedish and there were even some Americans, but they were never assigned to that particular hotel. After arriving, he was to wait for a contact who would give him his next step toward extraction.

TBC :thinking:
 
HI EVERYONE,
I just want any of you checking on this story that my computer crashed the Mother Board :confused: (I have no idea what that is) and new parts coming on the 5th. After getting it put together, I'll probaBLY be posting at the end of next week. Sorry. :(
lenafan ;)
 
2-Leningrad

Ivan was shocked at first by the demand he come home. He objected. He did not want to leave his wife and child. The CIA warned him that discovery was imminent and that he could save both by ‘dying’ in an accident. If the KGB discovered who he really was his family would most certainly suffer. They probably would execute Irina and who knew what would happen to his daughter.

He anguished about it, but he had to follow orders. Ivan was told he had to leave the next day after he got the message. He was heartsick. It almost devastated him, but he had to go. He would have little time to say good-bye, but then he could not even say that. He would be ‘dead’ by the next evening. He arranged to go to a workshop at Hotel Leningrad that earlier he declined when first getting the information from his friend, Leon.

“I have thought it over and it might give me some ideas.”

“Hummm, I thought you said they were idiots…the one’s planning the workshop?” Leon raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Ivan laughed, “Yes, well, they are, but I can pick their brains a little and perhaps learn more than I thought.”

“Well, I trust your judgment, Ivan.” Leon picked up the phone. “I’ll call Intourist to be sure you and Anton have a room.”

“Spasibo!” Ivan turned toward the door. “I go home to pack, maybe make love to my Irina.”

Leon laughed, “I wish she were my wife. The sex you two…” He left the rest unsaid, but Ivan knew what he meant.


That night, they had sex and more sex. Ivan lay back after he sucked her dry. He rolled over so he could see her. She was smiling and sleepy too. He could tell that she would sleep until morning.

“Moya milochka,” he whispered. “I love you more than anything in my life. You are my everything.” He kissed her. “I want you to remember that no matter what happens.”

Her eyes were half-closed, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Ivan rolled out of bed, “Come we must shower.”

Irina groaned, “We could wait until morning.”

He pulled her over and brought her to her feet. Irina was naked as always and he stood staring at her. Her body was so beautiful. His eyes rove over her top to bottom. His hands roamed along her back and buttocks. He bent over and kissed her shoulders; then he slapped her buttocks.

“Go to the shower, woman.” He growled at her with mock menace.

She giggled a little more awake. “You are foolish man. Your sex machine is taking over your brain.” She walked to the tiny bathroom turning on the water. It was cold as always, but this time he relished it as he got in with her. She was surprised as he pulled her around to face him. “What?”

He kissed her hard, “I do love you almost beyond reason.”

She sighed. “Ivan, what is wrong with you? You’d think you were going to be away for a week instead of a night.”

“My sex drive is strong.” He bent down and sucked on her left nipple; then switched to the right. His penis was hardening, growing and he saw her eyes widen as she felt it happen.

“You want…” she began, but she stopped as he lifted her up and then put his penis into her vagina. She groaned with pleasure jumping up slightly to throw her legs around him.

He staggered, but Ivan held on to her and thrust. He held her against the wall opposite the showerhead thrusting again and again. Irina’s eyes were glazed as the orgasm began to grow from her depths. She pushed when he thrust. She groaned every time he charged into her cervix. She was panting now, throwing her head from one side to the other as they rode each other into near oblivion.

“Boje,” she cried, “Boje! You are frackin my brains out.” She panted.

The water poured over them, but neither cared.

Then Ivan felt his orgasm coming. He sucked on her tits, pulling her close, as his jizzum filled her. He kept thrusting and then she too screamed with pleasure as her orgasm struck with ferocious heat as nerves exploded repeatedly.

They were both exhausted as water sluiced over their wet bodies. Moments later, both dropped into bed naked. Ivan barely was able to pull the sheet and covers over them. He pulled Irina into his arms, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “I love you, Irina Derekova, more than life itself. Don’t ever forget that…ever.” He looked at her. She was sound asleep and moments later, so was Ivan Brestov alias Jack Bristow. It was the last night he would spend in Russia.

Ivan left early in the morning in order to catch the plane to Leningrad. Both Irina and Sasha were up. Irina was giving Sasha some hot gruel. She put coffee in front of him and offered some type of muffins.

“I did not know if you have breakfast at airport.”

“Probably not, spasibo.” He kissed her on the cheek and then looked at his daughter who was staring at them both.

“Papa, are you going to be here to take me to the science exhibit?” Sasha trained her dark eyes on him, holding a spoon in hand. “You promised.”

“Of course, I am,” he answered. “I would not stand up my second best girl!”

“Is Mama your best girl?”

“Without a doubt.” He sipped his coffee grinning at Irina, who smiled back.

“Do you love her more?”

He laughed. He knew it was not a trap. Irina’s left eyebrow went up and she looked at as if to say, ‘how do you get out of this one?’

“I love you both very much.” He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Never forget that…ever.” He kissed her. “Will you do that?”

“Of course, Papa. I will never forget you.”

He kissed them both as he always did and left. His heart was heavy with a sadness he could not dispel with the thought he would be ‘home’ in another day or so. Moscow was home, because it was where his wife and child lived and would live after he was ‘killed’ in an accident.

Not changing his every day MO., he picked up his morning pastry and finished it, tossing the paper into the trash can. Ivan squeezed the tears back he wanted to shed and took the Metro to the University. There he would pick up Anton and their tickets. A university bus would deliver them to the Shermetyevo Airport to catch the flight to Leningrad. He said very little to his companion who looked as if he had a few too many vodkas the night before and was satisfied not to speak.

The plane ride took a couple of hours and they landed at the Leningrad airport, located south of the city. There was a car waiting for them outside the terminal and in less than an hour, they entered the Leningrad Hotel. Ivan unpacked and put his briefcase on the old dresser. He knew everything must be left behind when he went out in the evening. He left no note—nothing.

When it was discovered he was missing, it had to be a mystery. He walked out of the hotel and simply disappeared. Anton would be questioned heavily and when the KGB learned he did not go with Ivan, he would pay with probable dismissal and even prison. It would be assumed Ivan met with a mugger or other criminal who killed him after robbing the teacher.

For all intents and purposes, Ivan Brestov, respected teacher at the University of Moscow was dead, leaving behind a wife and young daughter.



PART 4 - PUNISHMENT
1-Langley


Jack Bristow returned from Russia, more Russian than American. Initially it was not a good time. Some of the directors were suspicious of him. They thought he might be a double agent—turned by the KGB. They did not understand why he stayed in Russia for so long. While being debriefed, Jack told Ben, who was his handler during the entire ten years that he loved his wife and daughter.

“I did everything asked of me. Everything! I do not understand this—this suspicion. How could anyone believe I was anything else, but the perfect spy?” He was sitting now on a bunk in the CIA’s detention building.

“Jack, they have no idea what you went through to do this job. To maintain your cover and still get it done was nothing short of frigging miracle. Let’s just say they don’t believe in miracles.”

“They should. The extraction was nothing short of a fuking miracle. It seemed it would be impossible, but everything went just like clockwork.”

“Sometimes we are ruled by stupid men, but our operations director is brilliant. You did play your part perfectly.”

“What is next? I—I would like to get to work…do something.”

“The Education project—what is your take on that?”

“I’m not sure it will work. You have the information. What do you think?”

“Turn children into spies…that doesn’t seem possible. It could be a pipe-dream of the KGB.”

“Yeah, well, how about it, Ben, do I get to go to work?” Jack said nothing about it being Irina’s idea.

“Sorry, Jack, not today. Make yourself comfortable. Let me see if I can get them to loosen up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

However, Ben was unable to shake his superiors’ caution. They would not let Jack Bristow come back to work. Instead, they moved him into FBI custody for further interrogation. Jack endured hours and days of long and boring questions covering everything he’d done in Russia from the moment he met his target, Irina Derevkova. They want to know about his contacts, his handler in Russia, whom he’d never met formally. They wanted to know what he taught in the Science Academy. They probed every aspect of his secret life.

At night, they took him to the cell where they brought food to him and he slept. He saw no one from the CIA, only the government interrogator. He dreamed a lot about Irina and his beautiful little Alexandra, his Sasha. He wondered if they were recovering from the report of his death. Jack experienced deep sorrow thinking about what might have been the result of his so-called ‘mugging.’

That was the plan…to make it seem an unknown hooligan robbed, killed, and disposed of his body so no one would find it. That too was a set-up. Two other men, arbitrarily chosen, wandered into a park late at night. They too, were mugged and killed. The police found blood, but no body in either case.

When Jack disappeared under the same circumstances, they assumed he succumbed to the same Fate as the other two men. In reality, he was taken by rowboat out of the massive Leningrad harbor to a US submarine waiting outside. He’d boarded the sub and it took him to Helsinki. He was put ashore with his real passport and money to buy a ticket home to Washington D.C. where he was picked up and brought to Langley.

Now he sat in a cell—solitary confinement, because the FBI and CIA did not want anyone to know where Jack Bristow was—in case there was another mole in the Justice Department. Two men knew who Jack was: Ben Devlin, his handler, and Martin Chase, the FBI’s top interrogator. The guards knew nothing, accepting the fact he was a suspected dangerous spy that the CIA was holding. He had an hour each day to exercise…alone. Jack saw no one and talked to no one other than his interrogator.

Martin Chase was a patient man. He could take time because the prisoner had no place to go. He was told to make sure that Jack Bristow was still loyal to the US and was not a double agent. Days he hammered at Jack with questions from what he learned about Moscow and its people to his personal sex life with his wife.

“How many times did you fu*k in a week?” He snapped suddenly in the midst of the interrogation.

“Huh?” Jack blinked.

“You heard me?”

“That’s none of your business!” Jack growled angrily.

Martin sneered, “Maybe you didn’t have sex with her at all…she was your partner or handler for the Russians.”

“Screw you!” Jack snarled.

“Sorry, I have a wife. Just answer the question.”

“Whenever we felt like it.” Jack answered, barely able to keep his temper in check.

It was the personal questions, which grated the most. Jack’s every day life in Russia was examined minutely and Chase was good at his job. Sometimes they would put Jack in an interrogation room and leave him. Chase would not come. Jack was returned to his cell without an explanation. Then there were days when Chase hammered Jack with questions that were without order to them.

It was a method meant to confuse the prisoner so that questions were not answered the same, as they were earlier. Martin recorded the interrogation and then took the disk back to his office to go over to be sure the answers this time were the same as before, even if answered in a slightly different way.

Jack knew he must be careful. He was aware of the technique Chase was using and knew too he could tell the truth and it revealed nothing they did not already know. He endured weeks and months of this. He was angry, but kept his anger in check. If he didn’t, they would not let him loose.

It was six months before he saw anyone other than Chase or a guard.

Ben Devlin was waiting for Jack when he was brought to the conference room at Langley. The older man noted that Jack had a wary look about him, as if afraid to act or even speak. Jack was thinner by about fifteen pounds. Although nearly thirty-five, he had a sprinkling of grey in his hair. He looked fit though, but then Ben expected that having read the case file from the FBI.

He stood. “Jack, please, sit down.”

“What now?” He still had a mild Russian accent, even though his interrogation was always in English. The CIA instructed Chase not to let him speak Russian. They wanted him back Americanized to the fullest again.

“I have good news.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been completely cleared.”

Jack grimaced, “Of what…of being a spy. I am a spy. I was an American spy who gave ten years of his life to his country.” There was a flash of anger in his words.

“I know, but Jack, you have to understand the CIA’s position. You spent ten years in deep cover—which in itself is remarkable, but…” he shook his head, “you returned with no one the wiser…in Russia, I mean.”

“Are you sure of that? Have you seen my wife…my daughter…did you check?” Jack’s voice was raw with emotion just thinking about the two people he loved.

“No…we didn’t!” Ben answered slowly. “We just saw the newspaper articles indicating Ivan Brestov, a beloved teacher at Moscow University, was mugged and probably killed. No body was found and the police believed it to be the third such criminal act perpetrated by an unknown killer.”

Jack laughed. “Is the CIA so naïve to believe the KGB might not catch on, especially if they thought their codes were compromised? Tell me, Ben, tell me they are stupid!”

“No, Jack, they are not stupid. I’m afraid we assumed they believed what happened, happened.”

“I’d like proof that they are still all right. We can easily take pictures, right?”

Ben nodded. “Yes…I’ll see what I can do.”

“As soon as possible,” Jack prodded. “Now…what?”

“We’re putting you into a desk job for the present. No field ops, but we know you can be a handler.”

“For Russia?”

“Sorry, no, we can’t risk it.”

Jack sighed. “I need a little time to re-orient myself. I have to find an apartment…get a car.”

Ben chuckled, “I’m sure you do. I’m going to assign an agent to help you.”

“Really? You don’t think I can do this myself?”

“Ten years and there’s been thousands of changes here in the U.S. You’ve got to have help.” He hit the intercom.

“Yes sir?”

“Get Agent Andrews in here please.” He turned the intercom off. “Agent Andrews will probably be a big help.”

Jack said nothing. Moments later the door opened and young female agent, about twenty-five entered. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and about five foot eight. She wore her hair in a bun and her clothes looked CIA mandated: dark blue pantsuit, white blouse and black shoes. In spite of the severity of her dress, she was very good looking.

“Agent Chris Andrews, this is Jack Bristow. He is going to need some help getting an apartment and clothes, perhaps even a car. You are his go-to person. Take a car,” he handed her a slip of paper, “and get this man re-settled. He’s been out of the country far too long. Bring him up-to-date on as much as you can: answer any and all questions and help him as much as possible.”

“Yes sir,” she turned and smiled warmly at Jack. “I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can, sir.”

“Thank you.” Jack stood, but didn’t shake anyone’s hand.

tbc :(
 
aww, he left Irina and Sasha. that so sad!!

and he was in prison for like half a year!? WTF.

who is this Andrews person. not a new love intrest i hope!!
 
2-Lubyanka

They came for Irina three months after Ivan was murdered; at least, that is what the politzei told her happened to Ivan when she flew to Leningrad after their call. There was no body and no evidence of where Ivan might be. They suspected he met with foul play—that one or more hooligans—had caught him out at a local park. Unfortunately, two other men prior to his disappearance and one after had met similar Fates. The police assumed they were all victims of the same criminal.

Ivan’s bodyguard, Anton, was the one that discovered his charge missing. He made a report to the police and they questioned him for hours. The KGB officer in Leningrad wondered why he let Ivan go out by himself. Anton had no answer. He was sent back to Moscow to answer charges of incompetence by the KGB.

It was his job after all to take care of Ivan and to see he did not get into trouble. Naturally, the agent in Leningrad checked on Anton’s whereabouts. He searched Ivan and Anton’s rooms and found an empty vodka bottle under Anton’s bed. One thing led to another and Anton admitted he was in his room, drinking.

The KGB first assumed as did the police that Ivan Brestov was a victim of a crime. They told Irina that also. Irina arranged for a memorial service for him to which several of his co-workers and friends from the University attended, as well as those friends and relatives of Irina.

The hardest part was telling Alexandra her father was not coming back to them. He was dead. God took him to heaven. Naturally Katya and Yelena were appalled she would tell her daughter such drivel, but Irina shut them up by saying her daughter was too young to be told otherwise.

Irina wore black, as did all widows for a year. However, she did not dress Alexandra in that color. It was not the color for a child. When her sisters suggested she was too liberal, Irina shook her head.

“No, I do not want her sad. She goes to school and is with her friends. I want her to be happy.” It had been bad enough she kept her out of school for a week, but now she was going back. It was better she wore her regular school clothes.

“Doesn’t she miss her father?” Katya asked.

“Of course, she does, terribly. She often cries herself to sleep or comes to bed with me.” Irina smiled, continuing softly. “I miss him so much that sometimes we both cry ourselves asleep.”

Katya hugged her younger sister. “It will take time, but you are too young to…”

Irina started to cry, “Katya, I’m pregnant.”

“Moya boje,” she cried out, “when?”

“About eight months from now. Oh boje, what am I going to do?”

“Go to work. It will keep your mind off everything.”


It was ten weeks later as Irina was at her desk working when four KGB agents all dressed in black, approached. She looked up from her computer, a questioning look in her eyes.

“Irina Derevkova Brestov?”

“Da!”

“You will come with us!” One of the men pulled her up by her arm.

“Wait? Why?” She cried.

“Treason.”

She gaped at them in pure astonishment. “Are you out of your minds?”

They didn’t answer as two men forced her arms behind her back and put handcuffs on her wrists. She was marched out of the room. Irina cried out to her co-workers they were to find Nicholai and tell him.

“Call Katya,” she cried to a woman with whom she was friends.

She was thrown into the back seat of a black Zim. Two men climbed into it with her and the other two sat in front. The car had sirens going, which made everyone in its path dash to get out of the way. Irina did not move. She knew no one was going to tell her anything. Not one word was said by any of the four men.

She had to think…who charged her with such a terrible thing…treason? She was a stalwart Party member, moving up in the KGB hierarchy.

The car raced into the underground garage after stopping briefly at the guard gate. It pulled up to a door. Three men got out, pulling her after them. The fourth moved the car to its normal parking spot. They pushed Irina into the elevator and went up to the second floor. As the doors opened, she was shoved out into the hallway, nearly falling against the far wall. Two men dragged her down the hall to a room. The third went to report the prisoner was inside the prison.

Inside, one man took the handcuffs off Irina’s wrists. They shoved her into a metal chair with arms. The other man produced another set of handcuffs. Both of which he locked onto her wrists and the chair. Then he put shackles on her ankles. Scared, she felt a fine sheen of perspiration on her face. Her heart felt as if it was going to beat right through her chest. A half hour passed and no one entered the room. Her hands were trembling more than she realized. Although handcuffed to it, Irina gripped the arms of the chair.

Suddenly the door opened and two men entered. One carried a file under his arm. He was momentarily taken back by the beauty of the woman facing him. She was obviously scared. He dismissed the three guards. His companion stood at one side of the door observing.

“So Irina Derevkova, I am told you did not believe him when he said you were being arrested as a traitor?”

“Ahueyet? Are you crazy?” Irina cried stiffening as anger overtook fear. “Nyet, nyet, nyet! You are wrong!”

“Are we?” The man sat down, placing the file on the table in front of him. “You are married to Ivan Brestov?”

“Da, but…”

“Yes, yes we know he’s supposed to be dead.”

“…supposed to be dead?” Irina was angry. She tried to rise, but handcuffed to the chair made that futile.

“Very nice. You are very good at the grieving wife.” He said it calmly, running his manicured hands along the top of the file. “Too bad he left you behind to face these charges.”

“What do you mean?”

The interrogator opened the file and removed a photograph. He turned it around and placed it in front of her. “Tell me who that is?”

Irina looked down her long chestnut colored hair falling across half her face and gasped. She stared almost uncomprehendingly at a picture of her Ivan, sans moustache, entering an office building with three other men. In the lower right hand corner, there was a date…five weeks ago. She blinked as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I—I don’t understand?”

“Ivan Brestov is alive and well, in Langley, Virginia, United States. He was identified by a friend of ours who works at CIA. The building is FBI Headquarters in Washington D.C.
He is a spy as you well know.”

Irina gaped at him and then at the picture. She felt as though someone hit her in the stomach…hard. Now nausea rolled up into her throat and she knew she was about to throw up. She could say nothing as her stomach heaved and the food she ate at lunch hit the floor. She gasped and more came up some of it spewing in the hair that fell across her cheeks.

“Nyet, nyet, you are wrong,” her voice gurgled as she struggled to speak.

The two men jumped when she vomited. Now the one with the file was back. He grabbed her hair, pulling her while still in her chair, around to face him. He backhanded her across the face, twice.

“Pizda! You are a traitor.” He slapped her again. “You gave him information…vital information on codes and encryptions for ten years. You will pay with your life for these…these violations of our country’s national safety.”

Irina could not escape as he furiously hit her repeatedly. She lapsed into unconsciousness when he struck her across the jaw, sending her and the chair over sideways onto the pool of vomit on the floor.


It seemed like hours before she finally regained her senses. She was still on the floor handcuffed to the chair. Her mind seemed completely still. The only thing she could think of was the picture of Ivan, clean-shaven, walking…alive. She cried until the tears would not come any longer. He was alive. He was a spy. He was the father of their child. He was a spy. He was her lover and husband. He was a spy. Repeatedly she thought the words until she felt she was drowning in them and could not live any longer.

It was impossible to believe. Ivan was a spy…an American spy. It seemed impossible. All the years they lived together, raising Alexandra, and…she sobered a moment, now she was pregnant again. Boje, what was she going to do? How was she going to get out of this? Hopelessness was the feeling that now overcame her. The motherland would kill her if not for being a willing participant in the spying, but for falling for him, allowing him into her life and for failing to recognize he was a spy.

She was crying again, sniffling, and thinking of her daughter. What would happen to her? O moya boje, what would happen to Katya and Yelena? Would they get out of this mess?

Her mind drifted back to the day he left. What did Ivan say, “I love you more than anything in my life. You are my everything.” Did he know he was going to be…what was it they said…extracted? He even told Alexandra something similar. He told them both never to forget that he loved them.

“Idiot,” she murmured to herself. She willed herself to think about Ivan and his duplicity and her love blinding her to the truth.

She looked at the room as much as possible from her position on the floor. She was alone. Her face was swollen from the beating given her. Her joints ached and she was unable to get any relief as long as she remained on the floor. She wanted to pee, badly, and even worse, she was lying in her own vomit.

The door opened. Booted feet stood next to her, but because she was handcuffed and on the floor, she couldn’t see who it was.

“So you are awake? Have you decided to cooperate?” It was a new voice.

“Doing what,” she murmured. She had to pee. “I—I have to go.”

“You’re going no where.” He gestured to two guards at the door. “Pick her up. Get the handcuffs off.” Irina groaned with relief. “Take her to four.”

Two sets of hands pulled her to her feet. Her knees buckled. She could not walk. “Drag her.”

“I—I have to pee,” she moaned.

“Too bad,” he snarled, “no bathrooms for traitors!”

The two guards pulled Irina into another room and it was long and narrow, painted a bright white that was almost blinding. Two bright lights illuminated the room

“Strip!” The voice was harsh. “Use the drain in the corner.”

Irina staggered by herself to the corner. It was useless to resist or complain. She was in a pile of felgercarb. She pulled off her clothes. She did not argue. She was barely able to stand so she squatted over the drain and relieved herself. The men watched, their faces masked with disinterest. She finished and didn’t move. The interrogator leered at her.

“Irina Derevkova, you insist you are innocent; that you knew nothing about Ivan Brestov’s double life. You lived, slept and fucked him for nearly ten years and knew nothing.”

“Da, I swear I didn’t know.”

He was over her in two strides, pulling her up by her hair. She screamed. “Liar as well as a traitor. Hang her and clean her up. She stinks.”

The other two grabbed her wrists, pulling her to the wall about four feet away. A set of manacles hung from a ring set high on the wall. They snapped the cuffs over her wrists. Her feet barely reached the floor. Seconds later a powerful stream of cold water struck her. It poured onto her body, head, and arms. Water splashed hard into the wall and bounced back into her face. She sputtered and coughed. The water felt like a battering ram. It seemed to go on forever.

Then as suddenly as it began, the water stopped. The door slammed shut and the lights went out. She hung there, naked, wet, and battered. She heard no sound. She was alone again.

Irina knew the protocols for questioning of prisoners. She learned that during her KGB training. She never expected it to apply to her, but now…she must figure out how to stay alive. She would have to be strong and never give in…never to give them the slightest encouragement that she was guilty, because she was not. She would not confess to something she didn’t do, no matter what they did to her. She had to be strong not only for herself, but for Sasha and the baby to be born.


RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Ahueyet – What the *frack?
O Moya boje – Oh my God
Nyet – No
Da - Yes
Pizda – cunt
 
3 - Katya

It was late afternoon when Katya returned from Sasha’s school with her niece. It was her turn as Irina worked late on Tuesdays. She would keep her niece until Irina stopped before going to their apartment. Katya, however, was aware that it would not be long before Irina would have to give it up. The Party would want a family, including a man, to live in it. What would they do with all that furniture?

Tossing her gloves on the table by the door, Katya gave Sasha a small glass of juice while she went to the bedroom she shared with Yelena to take off her work clothes. She was planning on going out that evening with Ybonskiy, one of her co-workers at the office. He did have an apartment where maybe they would test one another. A romp in his bed might give her some idea how their relationship might proceed. She was fond of him and needed to take the friendship up a notch.

Throwing on a new skirt and blouse, she returned to the living area to fix her some tea. Yelena was on a mission somewhere and who knew when she would return. In her forties now, Yelena was involved in some secret project the KGB was overseeing for the Party. She had not told Katya one solitary thing and curiosity was burning inside her. The phone rang. Katya sighed, wondering who it could be. It had better not be Ybonskiy cancelling their date.

“Da?”

“Is this Katya Derevkova?” The voice seemed to be whispering and it definitely was not anyone she recognized.

“Da.”

“I’m calling to tell you your sister has been arrested by KGB.” The voice was so soft that Katya had a hard time hearing her.

“My sister?” Katya questioned. “Which one?”

“Irina Brestova!”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Da.”

“What for?”

“Ogorchenn. I don’t know.” The caller hung up.

Katya glanced over at Sasha, who was busy reading a book. At seven, she was a voracious reader. Her parents encouraged her to read any and all that interested her promising to explain whatever she did not understand. As a result, her intelligence was moving forward at a faster pace than any other child in her class. She would be tested soon by the KGB and learn what her future would be.

Since Sasha was not paying any attention to the conversation, Katya dialed a number. She might have to cancel tonight’s outing. She waited as the phone rang on the other end, biting her lip with impatience.

“Hello,” she heard the other end pick up. “Hello, this is Katya. I need information quick and you must be discreet.”

“Da, so,” said the listener.

“I just heard my sister, Irina, was arrested. I need to find out why.”

“Treason,” said the man on the other line. “All departments were notified thirty minutes ago.”

“Pizdet’,” yelled Katya, stunned.

“No! It is what they said.”

“That’s all you know?”

“Da,” and he hung up.

She hung up the phone and almost immediately, it rang. She jumped, hesitated, and then answered.

“Da?”

“Katya?”

“Da!” She recognized Ybonskiy’s voice. “I’ll be ready on time.”

There was a pause, a long one, then, “Sorry Katya, I can’t make it tonight. I’ll call you soon.” He hung up.

“Govno, govno, govno!” She swore under her breath. It was loud enough however, for Sasha to hear and she looked at her aunt in surprise.

“Aunt Katya!”

“Ogorchenn!” Katya ran to the bedroom. She slammed the door angrily wanting to vent her rage. She knew very well why Ybonskiy cancelled their date. He didn’t want to be seen with the sister of a traitor. Damn it, she better do something quick or she’d be hauled in too!

She stood at the window and gnawed at her fingernails thinking. Knowing how the KGB worked, Irina was probably undergoing questioning now. She would not be having a nice day. Katya looked out the window and down the street. There were no cars parked at either side with men inside. She wasn’t sure if she and Yelena were under suspicion yet, but if they were, agents would be posted.

Katya knew she couldn’t get help from Yelena. Who knew where she was today…it could be anywhere in the world. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered a man who was in the communications department whom she’d had some pleasant afternoons with last year. They broke it off when his wife became suspicious. He seemed to be terrified of her. She had a conduit to first hand information.

Turning she went to the telephone and dialed. She was thankful that it was still afternoon. Sergei would be at work. She listened until there was an answer at the other end.

“Communications. Sergei Orloff.”

“Da, Orloff.”

“Sergei,” Katya purred.

“Katya?” His voice sounded as it were strangling.

“Da. My friend, I need information now. Where is Irina?”

“Lubyanka.” He was whispering. “I can’t talk to you.”

“You will talk, or I will talk to your wife.” Katya paused. She could heard his intake of breath. “Do you know any details?”

“Nicholai said that her husband was alive…that he was an American spy.”

“Sooksin!” Katya gasped. “They’re…” She hesitated and then decided not to continue that thought a loud. “Spasibo, Sergei. I want to know if you hear anything more. Do not fail me because I do have other resources with which to cross check. Do you understand?”

“Da.” Katya hung up.

She knew Sasha was probably hungry by now so she went back out into the living room. Her mind was in turmoil, especially about the news Ivan was still alive and considered an American spy.

“Aunt Katya,” said Sasha “isn’t it time Mama was home?”

Katya forgot the time and it was late. She glanced out the window and saw that it was almost dark. Still Irina had been late arriving many times because of work. Ivan, the frackin bastard, always picked up Sasha, started dinner and generally made life a little easier for Irina. Now…she wanted to hurl something at the wall, but saw Sasha staring at her.

“Yes, but it’s probably work. You know how she is when she is working hard. Now that,” she paused a moment to sort out her words. “Now that your father is not here, she has to work harder.” She thought it was a lame excuse, but at the moment, she couldn’t come up with anything more plausible.

“Da. What is for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, laskovaya moya, I will fix something. Do you not have homework?”

“Da, it is almost done.”

“Then work on it until I have dinner ready.” Katya looked in the small icebox and in the cupboards. There was not much to choose from, but there was some left over borscht, which she warmed up. She added a couple of slices of Irina’s favorite bread and set it down in front of Sasha.

“I’m sorry there isn’t more, but I believe your mother was going to stop at GUM to get some groceries. You eat. I have some business to tend to first.”

While the borscht was heating up, Katya came up with a plan. There was a man in Irina’s directorate who was a friend. He liked Irina and saw to it she was advantageously appointed to communications. Alex Khasinau was the man who recruited Irina into the KGB. She had to get to him before too much damage was done. She knew her sister. Irina was stubborn and explosive. No one knew just how explosive and cruel she could be. Katya never heard Ivan complain about his wife whom he adored. Katya believed the adoration kept the tiger inside Irina at bay.

Thinking about him made Katya angry again and this time she picked up framed picture and threw it. It crashed against the wall and the glass broke over the floor. She looked at the phone and mentally rehearsed what she would say to Khasinau. No doubt, he already knew about Irina’s arrest.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number that might decide Irina’s future.

RUSSIAN TRANSLATION
Govno – felgercarb
Laskovaya moya – my sweet
Ogorchenn – sorry
Pizdet’ – bullshit lie
Sooksin – son of a bitch
Spasibo – Thanks
 
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