AllTheBest
Cadet
Woohoo! 100th Update! So, here's the latest update!
For two months, Irina saw Bristow off and on, dinner, lunch, coffee. She saw Sloane at a few functions, and the same woman she had met the night of the ball accompanied him. They regarded each other with a comfortable disdain. As Irina got to know Jack Bristow she began to like him more and more, but never in the way she had felt about Arvin Sloane. They were very different men.
In the late summer, Jack invited Irina over for dinner – just the two of them. “I’m going to cook,” he said, very proud. Irina laughed. She arrived at his home around eight o’clock with a bottle of wine. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
“You look lovely, my dear,” he said. Irina could only smile at him. He had opened the door with a white apron tied around his waist.
“And you look…like a chef,” she said, then kissed him back. He took her hand and led her into the kitchen, where she settled on a stool and watched him stir pots of simmering liquid. “It’s smells fantastic! My compliments to the chef.” She was proud of herself, using one of the idioms she found so complicated in the English language.
Jack smiled. “I can only hope it tastes half decent.”
“I’m sure it will, darling.” Irina stood up and went over to the cabinet. She took out two wine glasses and poured the wine. She handed a glass to Jack. He took a grateful sip, then returned to cooking.
Shortly after, Jack had finished cooking. They settled at the dining room table and Jack served up the pasta. Irina took a bite. “It’s delicious, Jack. Why didn’t you ever tell me you were so talented?”
“I would hardly call this talented, Laura,” he said, but Irina could tell he was grateful for the compliment. “Now, this may seem a little sudden, darling, but I was wondering if you would like to go away for a weekend some time soon.”
“That sounds delightful,” Irina said with a smile. “Where were you thinking of going?”
“I thought New York City might be nice. Have you ever been there?”
“Only the airport,” she said with a smile. “But it was a very nice airport.”
“How about next weekend?” Jack said.
“Fantastic,” Irina said. “That would be great.” She took another bite of the pasta. It really was very good. She thought they would eat quietly for a few minutes before conversation started again, but Jack spoke suddenly.
“Laura, I don’t mean to be forward, but I think I love you.” Towards the end, Irina could barely hear what he was saying, and Jack’s cheeks had turned a bright red.
“I…I don’t know what to say,” Irina stammered, but couldn’t bear it when Jack looked crushed. She hesitated. “But…I think I love you too,” she whispered. Jack’s frown turned into a smile. Irina felt bad over having blatantly lied to Jack’s face, but she forced her face into a smile. She took Jack’s hand across the table.
At the end of the night, Jack walked her to the new car the agency had arranged for her so she wouldn’t have to keep taking taxis. “Thanks for stopping by, Laura.”
“Dinner was great, Jack. I can’t wait for the trip next weekend.” Irina got into the car. She rolled down the window and gave Jack a quick kiss. “I’ll see you soon. Call me tomorrow.” Jack nodded and watched as she drove away.
She called Kozlov when she got home and told him about the trip Jack had invited her on. “Great,” he said in response. “That means you’re gaining his trust.”
Irina hesitated, then whispered. “He told me he loved me.” She cringed as she waited for Kozlov’s response.
“Really?” came the amazed response from the other end. “Already? Bristow seemed to cautious for that. I thought it would take longer. Great job, Agent Derevko.” Irina smiled to herself. She had learned quickly that Kozlov did not hand out compliments often and had come not to expect them. That made it all the better when he said something like that.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “So you want me to go to New York.”
“Of course, Agent Derevko. We’ll send a team to trail you, make sure he doesn’t get any funny ideas, make sure he doesn’t suspect anything.”
“Good.”
“Call me as soon as you get the flight information. The more time we have to plan, the better. They’ll probably bring you in for a briefing along with the rest of the team. I’ll contact you if that’s the case.”
“All right,” Irina said and hung up the phone. She went into the second bedroom that she had converted into an office. She sat at the typewriter and wrote up her lesson plans for the next week. Professor Clarkson had all but turned the class over to her. He had even spoken shortly of arranging for her to have her own class the next semester, which Irina realized would make her a full professor.
She stayed up until well past two in the morning working on the notes she would need for the class. She would have to see if Clarkson would let her teach a class on Russian literature. She had been studying that in Russia before her recruitment.
The next morning she woke up early to get to her office at the university. She called Kozlov from her office. They had checked the phone earlier and made sure it was bug-free. It was now deemed a secure line. She talked to Kozlov for a moment, but since there was nothing new to report, she got off fast. She reviewed her notes, pacing back and forth throughout the small office, preparing herself for the class. Irina still had trouble getting up in front of a whole room full of students. She had to prepare herself.
Students knew that Laura Ivanov was always in her office prior to class, and they often took the opportunity to stop in and ask questions. It sometimes frustrated Irina. She needed to do her work, but it was fun to watch the students, all leading normal lives. Sometimes she craved the freedom she had had before, but her freedom was nothing compared to the freedom her students had.
For two months, Irina saw Bristow off and on, dinner, lunch, coffee. She saw Sloane at a few functions, and the same woman she had met the night of the ball accompanied him. They regarded each other with a comfortable disdain. As Irina got to know Jack Bristow she began to like him more and more, but never in the way she had felt about Arvin Sloane. They were very different men.
In the late summer, Jack invited Irina over for dinner – just the two of them. “I’m going to cook,” he said, very proud. Irina laughed. She arrived at his home around eight o’clock with a bottle of wine. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
“You look lovely, my dear,” he said. Irina could only smile at him. He had opened the door with a white apron tied around his waist.
“And you look…like a chef,” she said, then kissed him back. He took her hand and led her into the kitchen, where she settled on a stool and watched him stir pots of simmering liquid. “It’s smells fantastic! My compliments to the chef.” She was proud of herself, using one of the idioms she found so complicated in the English language.
Jack smiled. “I can only hope it tastes half decent.”
“I’m sure it will, darling.” Irina stood up and went over to the cabinet. She took out two wine glasses and poured the wine. She handed a glass to Jack. He took a grateful sip, then returned to cooking.
Shortly after, Jack had finished cooking. They settled at the dining room table and Jack served up the pasta. Irina took a bite. “It’s delicious, Jack. Why didn’t you ever tell me you were so talented?”
“I would hardly call this talented, Laura,” he said, but Irina could tell he was grateful for the compliment. “Now, this may seem a little sudden, darling, but I was wondering if you would like to go away for a weekend some time soon.”
“That sounds delightful,” Irina said with a smile. “Where were you thinking of going?”
“I thought New York City might be nice. Have you ever been there?”
“Only the airport,” she said with a smile. “But it was a very nice airport.”
“How about next weekend?” Jack said.
“Fantastic,” Irina said. “That would be great.” She took another bite of the pasta. It really was very good. She thought they would eat quietly for a few minutes before conversation started again, but Jack spoke suddenly.
“Laura, I don’t mean to be forward, but I think I love you.” Towards the end, Irina could barely hear what he was saying, and Jack’s cheeks had turned a bright red.
“I…I don’t know what to say,” Irina stammered, but couldn’t bear it when Jack looked crushed. She hesitated. “But…I think I love you too,” she whispered. Jack’s frown turned into a smile. Irina felt bad over having blatantly lied to Jack’s face, but she forced her face into a smile. She took Jack’s hand across the table.
At the end of the night, Jack walked her to the new car the agency had arranged for her so she wouldn’t have to keep taking taxis. “Thanks for stopping by, Laura.”
“Dinner was great, Jack. I can’t wait for the trip next weekend.” Irina got into the car. She rolled down the window and gave Jack a quick kiss. “I’ll see you soon. Call me tomorrow.” Jack nodded and watched as she drove away.
She called Kozlov when she got home and told him about the trip Jack had invited her on. “Great,” he said in response. “That means you’re gaining his trust.”
Irina hesitated, then whispered. “He told me he loved me.” She cringed as she waited for Kozlov’s response.
“Really?” came the amazed response from the other end. “Already? Bristow seemed to cautious for that. I thought it would take longer. Great job, Agent Derevko.” Irina smiled to herself. She had learned quickly that Kozlov did not hand out compliments often and had come not to expect them. That made it all the better when he said something like that.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “So you want me to go to New York.”
“Of course, Agent Derevko. We’ll send a team to trail you, make sure he doesn’t get any funny ideas, make sure he doesn’t suspect anything.”
“Good.”
“Call me as soon as you get the flight information. The more time we have to plan, the better. They’ll probably bring you in for a briefing along with the rest of the team. I’ll contact you if that’s the case.”
“All right,” Irina said and hung up the phone. She went into the second bedroom that she had converted into an office. She sat at the typewriter and wrote up her lesson plans for the next week. Professor Clarkson had all but turned the class over to her. He had even spoken shortly of arranging for her to have her own class the next semester, which Irina realized would make her a full professor.
She stayed up until well past two in the morning working on the notes she would need for the class. She would have to see if Clarkson would let her teach a class on Russian literature. She had been studying that in Russia before her recruitment.
The next morning she woke up early to get to her office at the university. She called Kozlov from her office. They had checked the phone earlier and made sure it was bug-free. It was now deemed a secure line. She talked to Kozlov for a moment, but since there was nothing new to report, she got off fast. She reviewed her notes, pacing back and forth throughout the small office, preparing herself for the class. Irina still had trouble getting up in front of a whole room full of students. She had to prepare herself.
Students knew that Laura Ivanov was always in her office prior to class, and they often took the opportunity to stop in and ask questions. It sometimes frustrated Irina. She needed to do her work, but it was fun to watch the students, all leading normal lives. Sometimes she craved the freedom she had had before, but her freedom was nothing compared to the freedom her students had.