Here's the next chapter...finally.
~Chapter 13~
I ran back to the Ops Center. I had to tell Jack what Irina was planning to do. If I didn’t there would be no way out for her.
I saw him talking to a small group of men in a corner of the room. I waited until they were finished to tell him.
“Jack,” I said in a low voice. “She’s going to do it. She’s going to-”
“I know.”
“How do you know? She told you?”
Jack gave a small, forced laugh. “No. Some things you can just tell. Actually, I’m surprised she didn’t try to escape earlier.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“Help her get out.”
I didn’t see how we could help Irina. She was going to be accompanied by a team of marshals, surely, all of them armed and willing to shoot.
“You have a plan?”
“Of course.” He turned back to his desk, picking up a stack of papers. He handed them to me. The first page had a detailed map of the route the team would take to the prison.
“Here’s where my team will intercept the van.” Jack pointed to a dot on the middle of the map. “They’ll take out the guards. They’ll get Irina and we’ll put her on a plane back to Russia. Hopefully.”
“What do you mean, ‘hopefully’?”
“There’s a chance that she might not make it out. One of the guards might shoot Irina so that she can’t escape.”
Oh great, I thought bitterly.
We’re helping her escape so she can get shot and killed.
“It’s not likely to happen, though,” Jack added. “My team is one of the best.”
But I knew he was thinking the same thing I was:
If it wasn’t going to happen, why bring it up?
“We leave in two hours. Be ready.” He started walking towards the exit.
“I’m going with?”
He stopped and looked back. Any other person would have probably said, “Well, duh.” Jack Bristow, however, just stared at me for a moment, then turned and walked away.
TWO HOURS LATER
Irina
Irina sat in the back of the van, surrounded by armed guards, her hands and feet manacled. She stared straight ahead, appearing very calm to the guard seated across from her. In her mind she was thinking of what would happen when she got to this prison. Irina came up with horrible thoughts: being chained to the wall and beaten, or being electrocuted by the guards, or…
She shook her head slightly. She doubted that they really did any of that in American prisons, but couldn’t chase away the thought of it.
No need to worry over something that isn’t going to happen.
The van hit a bump in the road, jerking Irina from her thoughts. Outside there was a bang and the van came to a screeching halt. Someone had shot out one of the tires. The back door was opened and the marshals tumbled out of the van, guns at the ready.
Damnit, Irina thought, realizing what was going on.
Why are people always trying to kill me?
Cecilia
I’m ready, I’m ready, I chanted in my head. Ok, I wasn’t ready.
Being rather inexperienced in shooting, I was just supposed sit in the van until somebody brought Irina. Personally, I didn’t understand why Jack had taken me along when I wasn’t of any use. But if this was the last time I would see my mother, then I guess it was a good reason to come.
The agent sitting in the passenger seat leaned out the window and turned around to face the van speeding down the gravel road. He started firing. The agents poured out of both vans, shooting at one another. Jack jumped out, too, but not before saying, “Stay here.” Like I really had to be reminded.
I closed the door, leaving only a crack open so that I could watch for Irina. I heard bullets raining down on each team outside. I knew many of the agents would be killed. I silently hoped that Irina-and Jack, too-would make it back alive.
Finally I saw Jack leading Irina back to our van. Her feet had been unshackled so that she could run, but her hands were still cuffed together. I waited until they were about a foot away from the van to open the door. Irina got in and Jack ran around to the driver’s side. The door was halfway closed when I felt a white hot, searing pain near my heart. And then, blackness.
Irina
Her daughter had fallen into her arms. She looked down to see that Cecilia had been shot twice in the chest. Irina just stared down at her daughter, not believingly that this was real.
“Mom,” Cecilia moaned. “I’m sorry.” And like that she went limp, her eyes rolling back into her head.
“Jack! She’s dead!” Irina cried shrilly, her voice filled with fear and shock.
Jack pulled over. He turned around, looking down at Irina and the body in her arms.
“Dear God,” Jack whispered.
Irina didn’t realize that she was crying until she held a blood-stained hand to her face. It was as if a dam had burst; she was sobbing uncontrollably and rocking back and forth. She held a hand to Cecilia’s cheek, which had already begun to grow cold.
She knew it was her fault. If she hadn’t killed her granddaughter and then tried to escape, her daughter wouldn’t be dead.
It’s all my fault. It’s always my fault.
“That marshal is going to pay,” Jack said.
Irina shook her head and sobbed even more.
It’s my fault, she wanted to say, but her voice was lost. She picked up a gun that had been left on the floor. She just wanted to die right there alongside her daughter. She put the gun to her head.
Jack knocked it away as Irina pulled the trigger. The bullet punctured the door.
“You can’t kill yourself,” Jack said. “You need to be strong now.”
“For what! What is there to live for?!”
“For your daughters. For Sydney and Cecilia. Neither would want you to kill yourself.”
Irina tried to blink away the tears, but to no avail. Jack was right, of course.
She’s dead, Irina kept thinking.
My baby is dead, all because of me.
