The following is a WHAT IF story. This is like playing dominoes. By placing a tile (or a story idea) at right angles to what JJ Abrams and his motley crew are doing, we can play around and enjoy something that didn’t happen.
All of JJ’s characters belong to him. My characters are mine.

In Abduction, Episode 10, Jack offers Irina a chance at freedom if she will tell him why she really walked into CIA Headquarters. He will see to it she is held in a place near Puget Sound in Washington, but under 24-hour guard. “Still the illusion of freedom is better than none at all.”
So on the premise that Irina agrees, with an amendment or two as you will see, I thought it would be fun to work out a story that would give her a chance to escape the cell as well as….

THE PRISONER AT PUGET SOUND

Part One

Irina Derevko stood on the deck of the large house, sipping at a cup of steaming tea. She stared out into the darkness. To her right, in the east, an early dawn was traveling westward. Twinkling lights were barely visible to the south on the other side of the Sound. The water was still the color of black, deep, and cold, even in April. To the west, she saw the sharp outlines of the Olympic Mountains. They too, were black in the clear early morning. She took another sip of tea. She had finished twenty minutes of warm up, stretching, bending, and twisting, before she and her escort began her morning five-mile run.

The door behind her opened. Three young men stepped out, dressed in track outfits. They were part of the FBI squad, which also resided in the large comfortable home at the end of a lonely dirt road. It was cold and they began to limber up. She turned a critical eye on their bodies. All were an elite squad of physically fit young men who were hand picked for this duty—guarding one of the most wanted criminals in the history of intelligence organizations, namely the CIA and M-15. Rumor had it that Russia’s SVR wanted to talk to her about certain activities involving blackmail.

Irina walked inside to the kitchen and put her cup into the sink. At the front door, she put on a baseball cap over her coiled long hair. She wore runner’s shorts and Lycra shorts under those. Returning outside, the men were waiting for her. One of them motioned to her wrists. She held them out and a modified set of handcuffs locked on. The cuffs had been lengthened so she could run more freely. Glancing toward the east, the sky had lightened quickly. She looked at her watch. Time to move, she thought.

“Let’s go,” she said, running lightly down the stairs to the driveway and heading toward the gate. The three men groaned simultaneously and started after her.

Ever since she arrived at the guarded and gated home, she had made up a time schedule. She ran at five in the morning and five at night and she ran five miles in the morning and three at night. During the day, she did yoga, meditated, read, or wrote letters she never gave to the agent in charge. She had a good breakfast when she returned from her run. She ate lunch at noon and a light dinner after the three-mile run. At night, she watched supervised television or a DVD movie.

Now as the four jogged out of the compound and down the road, Irina’s mind returned to that day in early December, when she was in the cell at CIA Headquarters. Jack had come to see her.

He saw Irina at the small desk, reading. She looked up and immediately walked over to face him. She smiled tentatively.

“How are your wounds?” Irina could see his face had no swelling and the cut inflicted by the gun butt had healed.

“You obviously had the chance to betray us in Kashmir, but you didn’t.”

“I don’t imagine that means you’ve decided to trust me.”

“Our previous,” he pauses looking at her, “dealings would indicate that your strategy here may be long-term. So for now, I trust that your behavior is predictable.”

Oh, oh, she thinks, what does he want? “By previous dealings you mean our marriage? You know, technically, we may still be husband and wife.” Irina has a big smile on her face. Then she notices his cold stare. “I’m sorry.” She glances away for a moment.

“Sydney’s on assignment,” he explains, “with Sark.” His voice is cold as though he is privy to a secret. “It’s my belief that he’s still working for you, that you’ve coordinated your efforts to infiltrate both SD-6 and the CIA. Whatever you have in mind, I promise you, it won’t work. So, I’m going to offer you a deal. I’ll see to it that you’re relocated to a private residence on Puget Sound, under twenty-four hour surveillance, of course. But the illusion of freedom is better than none at all.”

Irina stares at him. “In exchange?” She asks softly.

“In exchange, you’ll confess, tell us what you’re really doing here, why you’ve turned yourself in.”

She says nothing.

He looks at her for a moment, saying, “I’ll give you a chance to think it over.”

Irina returned to her bunk, sitting cross-legged and taking a meditative pose closed her eyes. What should she do? It was obvious from her Kashmir experience; Sark had deviated from the plans she had decided to pursue. If he changed his allegiance from Irina to Sloane, she was in a precarious position. She need time and space to go somewhere she could re-evaluate her position and perhaps, then take action.

First, Irina had to think of a believable enough confession. She had to make sure Sydney would be able to visit her—and Jack too. Therefore, the confession must not involve any manipulation of Sydney, supposed recruitment or betrayal.

When Jack returned a couple of days later, he found his ‘wife’ pacing the floor. She seemed stressed. Vaughn told him she had been doing this off an on for the last twenty-four hours.

“What have you decided?” Jack asked.

“Jack, how do I know you’ll keep your word—or that CIA will also? After all, you both nearly had me executed.” She stared at him, challengingly.

He winced, thinking about his own part. “DOJ will give you a signed Immunity Agreement with the stipulation you must remain in custody at a place of our choosing near Puget Sound in Washington.”

“It sounds as though this place has been used before for same purpose.” Irina said.

He flushed, “Yes, it has, but no one resides in the home now.”

“Will I be safe?”

“From whom?”

“Arvin!” She rubbed her arms as if he were lurking around a corner. “He knows I’ve double-crossed him by now.”

“He won’t know where you are.” Jack had a feeling she was going to take him up on his offer.

She frowned. “Will you come to see me?”

“Me?” He was surprised.

“I want to see people I know and—and care about…you and Sydney, too.”

He saw she was serious. “I can’t speak for Sydney, but I’ll try to come.” He was not sure he could keep that promise.

“Before I confess anything, I want to see Sydney.” Irina seemed positive.

“She’s on assignment in London with Marshall. When she gets back, I’ll ask her to come see you.” He said.

“What is twenty-four hour surveillance: electronic or people?” She stared earnestly.

“Both! The FBI will rotate a squad of agents who will serve inside the compound. The fence around the property is electrified.” He suddenly grinned. “And yes, we’ll provide someone who can cook.”

“I will tell you everything then, but first I want to see Sydney.”


Two days later, Jack and Sydney returned together. Irina heard them coming and stood at the window. She knew she was going to have to be so open and honest to them both if she was to get them to believe her.

“Dad said you wanted to see me,” said Sydney.

“Yes. Your father has made me offer. I can go to a home in Puget Sound under twenty-four surveillance if I will confess the real reason I am here.” Irina said. Jack nodded to Sydney. “Before I do anything, I want to know if you will come to see me there.”

“Yeah, sure, Mom, whenever I can get away.” Sydney responded with a broad smile. Secretly she had wanted to know more about her mother’s missing years. She couldn’t believe her father had been able to get Irina Derevko to agree to this. “Tell you what; I will come with you on the trip up if I don’t have an assignment.”

Irina looked at Jack. “Can she?”

“Before you say anything, I should tell you,” said Jack, “what safe-guards the government will make to be sure you don’t try to escape.”

“They are?”

“You will be implanted with an electronic tracker. You will not leave the house unless you have two guards minimum. You will also be handcuffed as soon as you step onto the ground.” He stared at her wondering if she would go for it.

“Will they be allowed to talk to me,” she queried with a touch of sarcasm.

“Of course,” he answered. “Are you prepared to tell us?”

She nodded.

Four nights later Irina left the op center handcuffed and placed in a van. She was transported to LAX to a special terminal. Accompanied by two US Marshals, she boarded a small jet plane owned by the CIA. Just before take-off, Sydney climbed on board followed by Jack. Irina was surprised to see them both, but delighted. It would make the trip in chains more pleasant.

“What’s happened?” she asked, knowing the CIA and FBI had acted on what she told them.

“Arvin and Sark disappeared.” Jack answered. “However, we took over the men and women working at SD-6. They will be debriefed and then allowed to work for the real CIA.” He smiled at his wife. “ The Alliance has been crippled and dismantled. We found the twenty-three artifacts in the safe at SD-6. Arvin didn’t have time to take them with him.”

“Will they be safe now?” Irina hoped the question was delivered so off-hand that neither Sydney nor Jack would suspect it.

“They’re being flown to Langley for safe-keeping.” Jack smiled, thinking she would accept that lie easily as any other.

It was an interesting trip up to Washington. They talked about the ten years they had been together as a family. Sydney was especially interested in the places they had taken her as a little girl. It was Irina, who mentioned the merry-go-round in Griffith Park. Both Jack and Sydney had frowned a little. They both remembered the conversation they had before Irina returned. She sensed their discomfort and wondered why, but did not ask. She told them about her imprisonment in the KGB secret prison and her subsequent release in the custody of her father. She did not tell them everything. She also revealed she had spent the years of eighty-two through ninety-one as a teacher of English at the KGB’s spy school.

The plane landed, taxiing over to a small terminal next to which a black Hummer was parked. Sydney went to the doorway. Irina turned to her, putting a hand on her face. “I’ll miss you—and your father.” Jack stood now behind Sydney. He gave her the briefest of smile.

“I’ll miss you too, Mom.” Sydney hugged her. “I’ll come up to see you as soon as I can.”

“Be careful, sweetheart,” Irina said, “I love you!” Her dark eyes met those of Jack and she nodded both a farewell. She walked down the steps with two U.S. Marshals following.

Jack stepped by Sydney, “I’ll be right back.” He had papers in his hand. He moved quickly down the stairs, catching up with Irina and her guards. Three men stepped out of the Hummer and walked to them. The Marshals took off her handcuffs, and the FBI put another set on her. She was now in their custody for the rest of her life. Jack handed the papers to the senior man, Frank Orson, shook his hand. As he turned, he touched Irina’s arm, saying, “You be careful and don’t take any chances. I’ll come up too sometime.”


Irina turned up the drive. It had been almost an hour and her pedometer indicated that the three had done five miles in fifty-four minutes. She had shaved another ten seconds off the last time out, yesterday. She slowed to a walk, cooling off.

“Hey, someone’s here?” One of the agents who was breathing hard, stopped and pointed at a car that did not belong to the compound.

Irina had stopped, bending over to loosen her running shoes when she heard the report of a rifle and a bullet passing over her, striking the agent on her right. He fell hard. Irina dropped instantly to the ground and looked at the agent. Blood trickled from a corner of his mouth and nose. Irina saw he was dead.

“Terry’s dead,” she whispered to the agent on her left.

“Christ!” exclaimed Frank. He was the agent in charge of the team. “Is that one of your friends?” Now he was accusatory.

“No!” she answered, “the bullet passed right over me as I bend down. It was meant for me.”

Three more shots were fired from inside the house. The three remaining runners hugged the ground hard. Irina looked at Terry again. She knew he had a gun. She hated being what the Americans called a ‘sitting duck’. The shots pinned them down on the driveway and the only thing that saved them was the car that stood between them and the shooter. Irina wondered if it was Arvin or Sark. More likely, it was the latter. Arvin didn’t usually get his hands ‘dirty’. How had they found out where she was? She raised her head and looked at the car.

“Frank,” she addressed him by his first name for the first time since her arrival. “Do you have a plan?”

“I’d like to get into the car. I think if I went through it, the angle would be so acute that the gunman couldn’t fire at me.” He looked at Dave, the other agent. “Can you draw the fire without getting hit?”

“Sure.” Dave grinned. This was exciting. He’d been grousing to the other men that this job was the pits. Guarding a spy was *shit-duty.

“Okay.” Frank turned his head to Irina. “You stay put. We’ll take care of this.”

“I can help.” Irina offered.

He shook his head. “No, you aren’t to touch a weapon.”

“I don’t need one.” She said. “Suppose Dave goes to the right to draw fire then runs to the left, while you enter car. As soon as he is shot at, I’ll go for corner of house. The man inside will have to turn his rifle. It’s going to take him one, maybe two seconds, to swing rifle and find me as target. You can get through the car and out on steps. Dave comes around car. I am target. You get him.”

Frank and Dave thought a minute and both looked her. What she proposed was extremely dangerous—for her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded. “Terry was good man—good runner. I do it for him.” They all looked at the fallen agent.”

Irina squirmed along the ground to her right near the rear of the car. Dave followed her. Frank reached up with his left hand to grip the door handle. It gave under pressure. The car was unlocked. He glanced over at Dave who was going to draw fire there, then run to the other end of the car and draw another bullet. Irina, a half second later, would run for the corner of the house. Frank motioned they would go on the count of three.

Dave stood up and fired three shots into the window. He ducked as a bullet clipped the rear bumper. Irina watched the young agent, now pop up on the other end of the car, and fire three more bullets into the house. At his first shot, she was running for the corner of the house. No bullets came her way, so she continued around to the back of the house. She heard more rifle shots. She tried the back door. It was unlocked. Pushing the door open quietly, she entered the small room. There was another door separating the porch from the kitchen. This door had a window. She looked inside and grimaced. Mason DuBois was on the kitchen floor with a bullet through his head. He was the team’s cook.

More rifle and pistol shots came from the front of the house. Why hadn’t Frank gotten to the door as they planned? Irina listened to make sure she knew where the intruder was. She moved through the dining room. She had a small chef’s knife in her right hand. It felt balanced and was a perfect weapon. She could throw this one at least ten feet with a hundred percent accuracy.

There was a sudden cessation of gunfire. She moved silently into a short hallway. It was darker here. The stairway was to her right. She knew whoever was in the living room could not hear her. She heard another set of shots. The killer probably needed to reload. She looked around the corner to the left. The man had pulled the drapes and closed the blinds, shrouding the room in soft grayness. She saw him staring out the corner of the window. Irina frowned. The shape was slightly rotund. It definitely wasn’t Sark and not Arvin. She stepped out and threw the knife. The killer moved slightly at the same moment and the knife caught him in the upper right shoulder.

“Arrghh!” He grunted, dropping the rifle.

Irina was on him, whipping the handcuff chain over his head. She pulled, putting her knee into the small of his back. There was a terrible cracking sound. The man cried out; then he was silent. He dropped to the floor and didn’t move.

“You son of a bi*tch,” came a voice from behind her. “What did you do to him?”

Irina had not seen the woman, who had been sitting in a chair on the right. She knew the woman did not know who she was either. As she turned, she saw the automatic. She didn’t have a weapon and was staring at Death for sure. She leaped for the floor in front of a sofa. The gun spit out its deadly gift. Simultaneously, the front door crashed open and both Frank and Dave came through, their guns blazing. Their bullets struck the shooter, killing her instantly.

“Derevko?” Frank shouted her name.

Dave reached for the lights. The two FBI agents saw a woman with a gun to their right. Three bullets had struck her one in the chest, one in the neck and another in the hip. The neck wound was bleeding copiously. The bullet hit her carotid artery. She was bleeding out. The man, crumpled on the floor, had a knife in his shoulder. His neck was at an odd angle. He wasn’t moving. Irina lay face down on the floor in front of the sofa. She didn’t move.

Frank checked the man, who was dead. Dave saw there was nothing he could do for the woman. The chest wound was heart high. Both men rushed to Irina. Frank leaned down, calling her name. There was no response.

“Turn her over,” he said and both men gently rolled her over. Blood was everywhere. She had two deep cuts on her face. Blood gushed from her right upper arm and it looked as though she had hit her head against the leg of the coffee table. The gashes were caused by broken glass from the window that had been destroyed during the gun battle.

“Call for medics,” Frank told Dave. “Both shooters are dead. Derevko needs medical attention now.”

OK

Me likey this one :rolleyes:

now post more already LOL
cruel cruel sharp cliff

Now you've got me hooked on another SpyFamily adventure! :wacko:
Please send more of The Prisoner of Puget Sound AND more, more, more of The Di Regno effect.
Thanks for the great entertainment, lenafan.
I hope you had a wonderful vacation.
EspionageFan :ph43r:

Hey thanks guys. I whipped this piece out in a week.
I'm not at home so that's why no Di Regno. When I get home will post one chapter before Sunday and another on Wednesday. I will also post more on The Prisoner at Puget Sound.

"..I'm addicted to you, cause you know that your toxic....do do de de.." :P
I LOVE this one!! :wub: I'm definitly hooked....gosh, your my SpyFamily achilles heal...you know this?? :huh:
I'm so gonna be late to school already...but I couldn't pass up this PM of a new SpyFamily adventure!!! :reallyexcited:
And you left it like THAT?? :blink:
Please update soon......and can you 'forget' to post more often before going on trips....the outcome is VERY nice!! :innocent:
Colly E. :bunny:

Some of you know that Lenafan is the number one techno idiot of the computer world. To give you an example, last night while attempting to leave my story here in the computer I accidentally deleted everything. Yes, I deleted the entire story! Yeeeowww! That scream was brought to you courtesy of me. We tried to find it, but this laptop is not the same as my computer at home.

So, as promised, I bring you the next part of THE PRISONER AT PUGET SOUND by dint of hard work and memory. Of course, it could be karma, fate or whatever you want to call it. It’s possible the story will be even better. Rate it R for the last line. :wub:

Part Two

The two orderlies gently lifted the woman’s body from the gurney onto the bed. They left, leaving her in the care of a nurse, who busily laid a monitor pad over the heart and in the crook of the elbow of the left arm. A catheter was inserted. The sheet and blanket were drawn over her still body. The nurse stood at the doorway, checking once more to se if the patient was awake, but there was no sign yet.Recovery had released her for return to the assigned private room The FBI didn’t want her exposed to another possible attack.

Two men stood outside waiting. She smiled at them “She’s still out. She could wake at any time now. Sometimes people react differently to anesthesia.

“Ciccarelli, you take the first shift.” Frank Orson, the man in charge of keeping Irina Derevko guarded, had acquired another agent in the place of Terry who had been killed during the attempt. It was to the new agent, he now gave further directions. He handed him the handcuffs. “Put these on her left wrist.”

The younger man, dressed in “fibbie” uniform of a dark suit, dark tie, and black shoes, entered the room. He walked over to the patient, pulled up one side of the bed, and hooked one end of the cuff to the bed, the other to her limp left wrist. Irina Derevko was a prisoner of high- ranking importance. She was a spy and assassin of twelve CIA agents in the seventies. He had been told not to take any chances. He took out a small notebook from his inside coat pocket and made some notations. He took one of the two chairs in the room, leaned it back against the wall next to the door, and sat down. He had the first four-hour watch.

Outside, Frank Orson sat in the chair, reading a newspaper. He had gotten to the sports page when he noticed two people at the desk. He recognized both immediately. It was Derevko’s daughter and, he shook his head, her husband, CIA agent, Jack Bristow, who had some kind of cowboy reputation in the Company. His daughter was also a CIA agent and her reputation as one of the brightest, smartest field operatives they had was almost the equal to that of her father’s.

They approached Frank, who stood up. “Nice to see you again, Jack.” They had met at the airport when Jack accompanied his ex-wife to Seattle a month ago. “You must be Sydney Bristow. Nice to meet you.”

“We’d like to see my mother,” she answered with a bright smile. “How is she?”

“Dunno, she’s still out. We had them bring her here instead of the recovery room. Too many people there. Give me a minute and I’ll be right out.”

Moments later both men came out. Frank held the door for the two Bristows to enter. They approached the bed. Irina was finally stirring, coming out of the anesthetic. Sydney stared at her mother with concern. She wore bandages on her left cheek and another over the right eyebrow. Her right arm had been casted and was in a sling. The monitor picked up speed as a normal heartbeat began showing on the screen.

“Mom!” Sydney said quietly. “Mom, can you hear me?”

“Son of a bit*ch,” muttered Irina, slowly opening her eyes, “where am I?”

“In the hospital,” answered Sydney. She was on Irina’s right. She touched her right cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”

Irina turned to look in Sydney’s face, blinked, and smiled weakly, “Sydney! You look wonderful.”

“You don’t, Irina. Haven’t you learned how to duck trouble by now?” Jack’s voice caused her to turn her head left. She smiled again.

“Jack! The trouble was that I was a sitting duck.” She felt the pull of the bandage on the left cheek. “What happened to me?”

“Looks like you cut your face on the left cheek and over the right eye.” Jack looked at the arm. “Your right arm is in a cast and sling.”

“Who did it, Mom?” asked Sydney.

Irina shook her head. “Don’t know. I think I killed the shooter, but I didn’t see his partner in time.” She tried to move her left arm, but it was locked in place by the handcuffs. She said nothing. “It was a woman, sitting in a chair on the other side of the room.”

“Yes, we know. Frank and Dave crashed through the front door, saw her fire and they killed her.” Jack grimaced. “We’re running fingerprints and DNA through the NSC, CIA and FBI data base files. We hope we’ll have them identified shortly.”

Irina stared around her, “I don’t like it here,” she said. “It’s not safe, especially since people evidently know where I am.” It was the first inkling she had there might be a mole somewhere within the two organizations.

“I agree,” said Jack, who had thought the same thing when he first heard about the attack and subsequent wounding of Irina.

However, the doctor would not let her go for another two days. Jack and Sydney spent time with her until the day arrived that she could be released back to the safe house. New protocols were designed to make it safer. Sydney pushed her mother in a wheelchair out of the hospital to a van driven by a CIA agent and FBI agent beside him. They did not leave by the front. Twenty minutes later, they drove up onto the ferry bound for Bainbridge Island. From there, they would drive over to the mainland. It would several miles, before finding the lonely dirt road.

When they finally arrived at the safe house, it looked the same. The windows, however, had been replaced. Frank had a new team in place. Sydney and Jack helped Irina out. Frank grinned at her. She gave him a tentative grin back. Sydney helped her mother into the bedroom.

Jack entered the living room with the other men. “Tell me what you plan to make sure what happened two days ago won’t again.”

Frank outlined everything. The compound was off limits, no matter what the reason. The gate had a camera and speakerphone. A password was now designed for anyone coming in with a guard change. Only men and women working in the compound would know the word only on the day they left for the safe house.

“Have you planned for every contingency?”

“There’s only one problem, your wife.” Frank added. “She insists on running twice a day, rain or shine.”

Jack grimaced then sighed. “My wife always runs. She’s done it as far as I know every day of her life since her training as a soccer player in high school or the Russian equivalent. I don’t think she’s going to want to give that up. It keeps her limber and quick. I’m sure you saw evidence of that two days ago.” Jack read Frank’s detailed report on the assassination attempt.

“Yes!” He smiled “She was quicker than I gave her credit for when she made it around the house without the shooter spotting her.”

“So design a program that will allow her to run and be safe.” He stood up. “My wife has asked my daughter and myself to stay over. Is there room?”

“Yeah, we have a guest room. Sydney can bunk with her mother.”

Jack stared at him. Frank suddenly was aware that was not what the CIA agent meant. “Er, well, or vice-versa,” he finished lamely.

“Irina has also expressed a desire to take a bath later. Can we arrange for a plastic cover for her arm?”

“Of course, just ask the cook.”

Jack disappeared around the corner going to Irina Derevko’s room. Frank looked at Ciccarelli, whose eyebrows had risen quizzically. “He’s spending the night with her?”

“He’s married to her still. I checked. Probably the craziest marriage ever on record in the intelligence community.”

Jack knocked and Sydney answered. He went inside. It was the first time he’d been in the safe house’s prison bedroom. It was larger than he expected. To his left was a television and against the left wall, a large dresser with nine drawers. There was a walk-in closet on the right. Next to it, an open door revealed a bathroom. He could see a bathtub and assumed the toilet and shower were out of sight. The king-sized bed faced him. Irina was sitting up and Sydney was adjusting a pillow or two behind her. Over her head, was a painting, depicting a coastal scene somewhere in Washington. There were no windows.

“I see you’re settling in,” he looked at her. “How are you feeling?” He gave her a brief smile.

“Listen Dad, I’m going to unpack my things. Why don’t you take over the nursing duties for the time being?”

He stood to one side as Sydney hurried out the door. She sensed her father wanted to talk to her mother privately. The door closed and Jack walked to the bed. Irina moved her legs to allow him to sit down. They stared at one another for a minute. Then Jack sat down, taking Irina’s left hand in his two larger ones.

“Irina, I am sorry this happened.” He was sincere. “I will let you know the outcome of our DNA and fingerprint search. You might be able to help us though.” He pulled out two four by five photographs from his inside jacket pocket. “Do you recognize these two people?”

She took the pictures without looking at them, a smile on her face as she explored his. He was so handsome, graying hair and all, she thought. Jack wondered what was going on as her eyes caught his. She smiled again then looked at the pictures. She gasped, sitting straighter. “Emil and Trudy Hoffenstatz.” In the half-dim light of the living room, she hadn’t seen enough of them clearly to recognize either. “They are contract killers. They worked in Europe mostly. Who hired them?” She handed the pictures back.

“We don’t know yet, but now that I know who they are, we’ll start back-tracking.” He stood up. “I’ll tell Frank. He’ll want to get the FBI on this right away. I’ll be back in a minute or two.”

She watched him leave. She leaned forward and then slowly drew the covers back. Moving gingerly, she stood up. She was tired. It had been a long trip back by car and a bath might feel good. Irina turned the water on with her left hand, watching it flow into the tub as she thought about Emil and Trudy. Had Arvin hired them? They were a successful pair of killers since no one would ever suspect two venerable seniors. Emil was at least seventy and Trudy a couple of years younger.

“What are you doing?” Jack had returned to see her standing by the tub.

“I thought a bath would feel good. I can’t shower.” She turned to face him.

“Then let me help you. We need to get a piece of plastic to cover the cast.” He turned and left.

Returning, Jack stood in the doorway with the plastic bag in his hand, watching Irina struggle to take off the hospital gown she’d been sent back wearing. She never wore nightclothes of any kind as long as he had known her and now was no different. She turned as the gown fell to the floor. He stared at the woman who had betrayed him and Sydney catching his breath at the sight of body he knew and dreamed about for so many years. He kept his face neutral, but inside he knew this time was different than on board the train from New Delhi. Things had changed—a little. He took the plastic bag and put it over her arm, tying a string around the top. He helped her down into the steaming water. She kept watching him.

“Let me soap you.” He said taking the body wash provided and a washcoth. “It seems like we’ve done this before.” Hell, that’s a line from a song, he thought.

She tilted her head looking up at him. “Yes, I remember it quite well.”

He washed her as a mother would a child. He scrubbed her back and her front. Her eyes never left his face. She had always enjoyed his hands on her body no matter the circumstance. He reached down and gently scrubbed her legs and then her feet. When he touched the bottoms, he heard her sigh. It was something she’s always enjoyed almost more than anything he did to her other than sex. He took her foot and began giving it the massage he knew she loved. He was amazed at himself. Time seemed to drive itself backward in his memory. Although she now loved to shower, when they married—no, when they were together as husband and wife, he had done this very same thing to soften her up—to make her feel desired. His fingers paused, stopped. He reached for the other foot.

When he had finished, he turned to look at her. Tears were streaming down her face. “Jack, will you stay with me tonight?”

He smiled and touched the uninjured right cheek. “I thought you’d never ask. Now then, suppose I help you out before the tub runs over. I think you need your hair washed. It looks dirty and tangled.”

Irina let him help her up. He took one of the large bath towels and toweled her off, enjoying the action. He kissed her on the shoulder. He then proceeded to wash her luxurious chestnut brown hair, using the sink. He found the hair dryer and used it almost expertly, but it brought a wealth of memories back to them both. No one ever knew what went on in the Bristow’s bedroom and neither had ever talked about it to anyone. The bathing and hair ritual had happened many times. Jack adored his wife and it made him the happiest when he could arouse her by the simplest of ordinary husband duties.

“When is dinner?” He asked gruffly.

“After I run…”

“No running yet. The doctor said you’d have to wait. That bullet glanced off the humerus and it was lucky the bone didn’t break.” He helped her on with her clothes as if they had never been apart. “You can keep your arm inside your blouse or out—which will it be?” He put the sling over her head.

She was puzzled. Everything he’d done for her was out of character. His coldness and hate when she first saw him last September was gone. He was the kind, loving man she had married—fraudulently, but married still nonetheless. “Out, please.” She watched him adjust the sling so her arm was comfortable.

“Jack,” she said, “why are you being this way?”

“Irina, I promised you safe haven and the illusion of freedom. I did not foresee this.” He touched her face and the arm. “The least I can do while I am here is make it easy for you.”

She looked into his eyes, smiled, and then kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Dinner was at seven. The new agent/cook grilled steaks, baked potatoes and cooked a pot of fresh green beans. He had baked a blueberry pie that Jack declared was the best he’d ever eaten. The other agents finished eating and went elsewhere, leaving the Bristows alone at the table.

Sydney had spent time at dinner gazing at her parents speculatively. There was something different about them. Her mother’s hair had been washed, blow-dried, and brushed . Hampered by the cast, how had she been able to do that—unless her father had…but Jack? Her father washed her mother’s hair? What was going on between the two? Unless, she thought, they had called a truce; they were ignoring the past twenty years and were carrying on as if they were still husband and wife. What else had happened in the bedroom after she left? She grinned.

“What’s so funny,” asked Jack a bit stiffly? He had caught the smile on his daughter’s face.

“Nothing!” She responded, still grinning. “Just memories.” She stood up. “I’m going to watch television for a while.” It was eight o’clock. “Threat Matrix is on and I like to see it whenever I have time.”

“I’ll join you,” Jack said. He enjoyed dissecting these shows that didn’t know what they were talking about. He looked at Irina. “How about you?”

“I can’t watch that show. It’s on the no-watch list.” She started to get up. “You two go ahead. I’ll read.”

Jack helped her up to her feet and then to the bedroom. “Can I help you undress?” He unbuttoned the blouse.

Irina paused, looking at him. “Later,” she said softly.

It was nine when Jack entered the bedroom. It was dark and silent. He tried to be quiet. Suddenly the lamp on the nightstand went on and he turned to see Irina lying under the covers. She had removed as many clothes as she could, but still wore her blouse and bra. They looked at each other without speaking.

“Jack,” she finally whispered, “help me.”

He was by her side instantly. He removed the red blouse carefully after taking off the sling. She leaned forward so he could unhook the bra. He took it off, dropped if on top of the blouse, and then pulled her into his arms, kissing her for the first time in over twenty years. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue probing deep, in and out, hard, and insistent. She gasped, pulling back to catch her breath.

“Jack, take off your clothes,” she whispered urgently.

Their eyes never left each other as he kicked off his loafers, removed the sport shirt, his pants and the boxers she knew so well. He slid into bed next to her. Carefully, slowly, he kissed her face, the lips and the neck below her chin. His hands massaged her breasts. He moved his mouth over the familiar, sucking and pulling at the nipples gently. She moved her legs, letting him in between them. He made no other move other than to continue kissing her body. Irina was squirming, moaning with the pleasure he was giving her. They had learned long ago how to gratify each other. Their foreplay was always extensive and never failed to arouse them both.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” she whispered. “Never!”

“You talk too much,” he said, lifting himself up on his hands to stare down into her dark eyes.

He felt her reach for him, helping him slide inside her.

:wub: Yowzer!
And to think you had to rewrite this chapter from memory!!!
Thanks for the PM, lenafan.
EspionageFan :ph43r:

Oh wow

I hate to review withOh wow but this was tender sweet and memorable

Is Jack really OK with this?

please tell me he is not stringing her along for revenge

brenda_wood Posted on Mar 11 2004, 03:21 PM

I don't know about Jack, but Irina definitely is. :wub:

B)

heh, heh, heh

awwwww. :wub:

This was a brilliant chapter, with a very sweet ending...waitaminute...there wasn't a cliffhanger!

Lenafan, are you feeling alright? Temperature? Fuzzy vision?

Well, considering that some of us have been around computers since birth and still haven't grasped the joys of saving at regular intervals, I think you're in good company.

I loved that chapter

Oh, please don't let it be a deception or dream or something ...

No cliffhanger. Hmmm..


I'm a J/I shipper so I loved it without one.

Aww! :wub: Jack is soo sweet with Irina..even after all the years between them...it doesn't seem to matter. :)
I really like that he's taking care of her now....and Sydney picking up on all of it is the best....I love when she eyes them, smiling all giddly like that. :lol:
Can't wait for more....poor Irina though..she just HAS to be taken care of Nurse Jack then!!! :D
Colly E. :bunny:

That was Excellent. I can't wait to read more.

Thanks for the pm.

Hey Thanks everyone. Glad you like it. This is really a romance...ah, yes and no cliffhanger. Am I losing touch with reality? Am I losing my grip? Hardly. Hummm just wait. There's more to come. :D :D :D :lol: :lol: :lol:

B)

Part Three

Jack returned to Los Angeles emotionally spent. He had not talked to Sydney even though he could see she had many questions. She also saw he was not going to tell her anything. It was private between him and Irina. When he closed his eyes, he could see her in front of him, lips parted, her tongue running across her teeth, then down to moisten her lips. He wanted smash her, but it was futile emotion. The anger and hate he had harbored for so many years, was not gone, but only suppressed. Instead, he was falling in love with his wife again. Her admission to him that she had never stopped loving him in spite of everything that happened between them had been shock. He never fathomed she would be just like him—hiding her love.

That night, evading Sydney, he returned to his apartment to sit in the dark with a glass of Chivas at his side. He stared into the darkness, wondering if she was going to survive once more. He remembered telling their daughter that her mother was a survivor; that everything the CIA had learned about The Man led him to believe she was twenty times more dangerous now.

“Your mother runs a criminal organization with a steel hand. She has killed her opposition whenever necessary to maintain her hold on the top spot. According to what we have learned, she is ruthless. She kills without warning.”

Then she entered their lives again. The adventure in Kashmir had been a revelation for Jack and Sydney both. Irina fit into the family dynamic as though she had never left it. They worked as a team on a highly dangerous mission. Now, he paused in his thoughts to take a sip of Chivas. He looked at the golden liquid, remembering that night over thirty years ago, when she plied him with his favorite drink, and seduced him. He laughed aloud. Seduced indeed, thinking about his own desires and passion to have this earthy, exotic woman for his own.

Now she was a prisoner for the rest of her life. She had told the CIA what she was after. Rambaldi artifacts had driven her for years. As The Man, she had accumulated a dozen of them. They were now in the hands of the CIA. She turned them over when she confessed. Jack, himself, had traveled to Budapest, found the bank vault she told them about, and retrieved them. Langley had put them with the others they had collected.

He had the feeling however, that Irina had learned exactly what she wanted to find out when she walked into Langley. There were three dozen Rambaldi artifacts in one place. If she ever got loose…he didn’t expect she would spend the rest of her life under 24-hour surveillance. He knew his wife only to well. He sighed, closed his eyes, and remembered the night they spent together at the safe house.


Irina stood once again staring out across the Sound from the deck of the new safe house. The weather was beginning to warm up and the doctor released her. She could run her usual five miles. He had told her she could only go two miles after he took off the cast. X-rays now revealed the humerus fully healed. The bullet wound had filled in, leaving an ugly scar, but it was little price to pay for her life. The band-aids that replaced the heavier bandages on her cheek and eyebrow were gone. Today, was the first time, she could go the maximum.

The FBI had just moved her to this safe house. Because it was only a mile away from the other, they did not worry about the tracker in her shoulder revealing anything significant to any mole. The location was on a cliff with no road leading up to it. They had flown her by helicopter at night to the new residence. The safe house was actually a mountain cabin. Behind the cabin were trails that zigzagged through forest, a meadow, and up into a high pass. Isolated, quiet, and unseen by no one except someone flying a plane.

Irina thought about Jack often. Nights were the hardest because she could remember and relive everything that had transpired between the two of them. It was almost as if they both went back in time to when they were dating, then married and long before Sydney. After Jack left, she never showed any emotion while in the company of her guards, but when she was in bed at night, there were tears. She knew however that neither he nor Sydney had any idea what the future might hold for them all. For the present, she had to honor her agreement, but if an opportunity presented itself…

“You ready, Irina.” Frank Orson, her FBI caretaker, had become an admirer of this woman who was a known spy and assassin. She survived the attack. She killed one of the assassins with her bare hands. He thought she was one of the most deadly women he’d ever met; yet, she was friendly, helpful, and open to the men assigned to be her jailors. Frank and Irina had often discussed the two organizations: KGB and CIA.

He was surprised that she was not a fan of either. She even thought they were similar in many ways. However, she did agree the KGB was not very protective or caring about their ‘illegals’—the men and women who changed their lives in order to serve their country.

She was sitting with her feet up on the railing of the porch one night shortly after Jack and Sydney left, looking out over the dark, silent forest below them. They had been talking about the intelligence community. He asked her again about ‘illegals’.

“Why would the KGB let you walk in to the CIA? I mean, wouldn’t it be to their advantage to have you home?”

She sighed, “I thought so once.”

“You left and got back home, to Russia. They must have been happy to see you.”

Irina smiled in the darkness, “Yes. At least that’s what they said when I was being debriefed, then I was thrown into prison.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I do not kid about chains, about rape, about beatings especially when they happen to me.” She stared without seeing him. “I might have died, were not for my father, who found out where they took me. It was my choice,” she lied, “to go home and I paid dearly for it.” She stood up and left without saying another word.

It was four-thirty in the morning now. There sun was coming up in the east. Irina waited for her two FBI guards who ran with her. They were leaving a little bit earlier than usual. The door opened behind her and she saw Frank and Dave. The other two agents, Ken the agent/cook, and Ciccarelli, were staying at the cabin. Irina held out her wrists. Frank put the modified cuffs on her. Sometimes he wished he didn’t have to do it, but she never flinched, never complained, and ran with them on as well as she would with them off. She turned, leading the way down the steps and then around the back of the cabin, into the forest about fifteen yards to the left. Directly behind the cabin was a cliff about seventy-five feet high. The path in the forest climbed by a series of switchbacks until it ended up at the top of the cliff, affording the runners an even more glorious view.

They stopped, watching dawn spreading westward. Reds and golds colored the cloudy sky. It was gorgeous. Irina never tired looking at it and supposed it would be something she would see many times. Suddenly there were two high-pitched screams and then two monstrous explosions below them. All three dropped to the ground, which was shaking. Rocks fell below. Smoke rose up to envelop them, causing them to cough, and their eyes to water.

“Shit,” cried Frank in horror.

“Frank,” yelled Irina, “do you have a knife?”

“Yeah,” he fumbled in the right front pocket of his tracksuit.

“Cut out my tracker now. Hurry!” She flattened herself on the ground, pulling her Tee away. “You don’t have much time,” she cried. “They’re homing in on it.”

Dave used his fingers to find the lump. “Here, Frank.” His hand pointed at the spot.

Irina gripped the dirt and rock as Frank plunged the penknife into her back, at the point where the lump designated the tracker. Blood spurted, but Irina did not cry out. Time was of the essence if they were to live. The attackers had to believe she was in the cabin. Frank found the top. He dug a little deeper. Without moving, Irina gasped and cried out. He gripped the end and pulled it free of her muscle.

She cried, “Throw it over into the cabin, hurry.”

Frank squirmed to the edge and tossed the small tracking device into the ruins of the cabin, just as two more rockets hit the remains. More smoke and fire flared up into the sky. Blood poured out of the wound on Irina’s shoulder, but she ignored it.

“Move into the forest,” she cried and turned, running in a crouched position. The two men hurried after her. They didn’t stop until they were out of sight. It was then that Frank realized what had happened. “Shit, those fu*ckers killed Chick and Ken. How did they know we moved you?”

She stared. “There is a mole, either at CIA or your office. Their equipment is also much more sophisticated than you anticipated. They pinpointed the move to the cabin.” She turned. “Let’s go.” The two men didn’t hesitate, they followed her deeper into the forest.

***
Is this her opportunity?

Oh

this could well be a set up but irina would never leave jack and syd for long

she has an agenda I am sure of it

either that or someone is determined to kill her

Good action sequencing lenafan

It could be her opportunity ...

Although I don't think that she would be gone for long even if she gets her 'opportunity'

I love writing this story. :wub:
Thank you, thank you for the kind words and the speculation....
Just think ... the best parts are yet to come. :blush01: :blush01:

B)

Da Da Dun.

Eep!

Once more you take up the mantle of Queen of the Cliffies. I can't wait for the next chap.

ooh! :unsure: This could definitly be an oppurtunity for her...but I think that maybe she has an allie on her side with her two guards there, especially Frank.....and she sure wouldn't be able to leave Sydney and Jack again...she loves them too much. :wub:
I'm sitting at the edge of my seat here wondering who it is that is after her!! :reallyexcited:
Can't wait for more!! :innocent:
Colly E. :bunny:

Oh, that Irina just might come up with an escape plan...I just hope that Frank and Dave won't get hurt if she does.
But, then, perhaps Irina won't take the chance for fear of not seeing Sydney and Jack ever again.
OK...I'm ready for Part Four!
EspionageFan :ph43r:

wau this is amazing, I read it all just now(was kinda on vacation for a while there) and I must say of all your stories I've read so far, this has got to be the most beautiful one, in a weird kind of way, but yeah it's truly wonderful. let's see if Irina can escape, andif she doesn't I think Jack should take a nice long vacation. anyways thanks for the pm's.

Part Four

Jack’s heart lurched. He listened to Kendall’s words, “Irina’s tracker is out.”

“When?”

“Early this morning. FBI is sending a plane to check the safe house.”

Jack frowned. “A plane?”

“Yes, they moved her to a new location. We learned about it yesterday.”

Jack now was sure either organization had a mole. “When did they make the move? Sydney and I were there in April.”

“She was medically released. They took her and the fibbies up by helicopter to the cabin. It’s about a mile from the other, but completely isolated. No roads or trail up to it. The only way there is by helicopter.”

“How do they get supplies.”

“Flown in.”

Jack didn’t like the set up at all. He wondered who approved it. No doubt some bureaucrat who had no conception of who a mole was or did. He finished dressing and drove to the office his mind working at the problem. Irina was wearing something no one knew she had on her.

In March, Jack had dropped in on Marshall’s op tech office at the CIA. The CIA’s genius op tech was happily singing to himself as he inserted a wire into some liquid in a beaker. There was a sizzle; then he removed the wire, the other end of which was in a PDA.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack exclaimed. “Are you trying to electrocute yourself?”

“N-no, Jack, just thought of something last week that would make it easier on everyone when they were tracked. Instead of a device you have to drive into someone, i.e. like your wife’s shoulder, you can wipe it on with a washcloth, or a sponge, but it doesn’t matter…just wipe it on and it soaks into the shoulder, arm or wherever.” He showed Jack the PDA, which was now beeping fast. “The further away you are, the slower the beeps. I’m testing it now.”

Jack smiled, “then you really don’t know if it will work on a human being?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure.” His cell rang. He listened for a moment. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” He put a top on the beaker and then left the room.

Jack didn’t hesitate. He found an empty clean vial, pouring about two inches of the liquid into it. He capped it and then left the room. He was going to use it on Irina the first chance he got. He still wasn’t sure she planned to stay the rest of her life a prisoner. That just was not Irina Derevko.


When Jack arrived at headquarters, he walked to his desk, pulling out the PDA. He switched it on…a white spot showed up on the dark gray screen and there was a light beep. She was alive! Marshall’s formula worked! He waited. It was at least fifteen minutes before he saw the dot and heard the beep again. He heaved a sigh of relief. Now he had to find her. He pulled out his cell and made a call.

When Jack was finished, he stood up, looking out his office inside window to the floor of the rotunda. He saw Sydney talking to Vaughn. She glanced his way and he motioned her to come to his office. Vaughn started to come with her. Jack shook his head. The younger man stopped, a little disappointed, but bowing to Jack’s wishes. Sydney opened the door and shut it. It was evident she was tearful and trying to stay calm.

“Dad!” She looked worried. “The FBI sent a plane to the cabin. They saw that it was in ruins, smoking, completely destroyed.”

“What’s the FBI going to do?” Jack said.

“They have to get a helicopter up there to check it out. They don’t know how many were killed. Mom’s tracker went out. They’re afraid they may have lost all of them.”

“Sydney, your mother is all right.” He held up his hand forestalling her question.
“Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. I want you to start running a complete check on all cell phone messages that were received here from the time the CIA was informed where the prisoner was being transferred.” He hugged her. “I want you to let me know the minute you find anything positive here. If not, then inform the FBI of the parameters and have one of the agents in the Los Angeles office run a check on the people at the Seattle FBI office. This is very important, Sydney, no one is to know you are doing this, not even Vaughn.”

“Dad?” she cried.

“Sweetheart, Vaughn is as much a suspect as anyone. With his issues about your mother, he is a prime suspect. You must think clearly about this. Your mother has just escaped two attempts on her life now. The third one might be the charm.”

“You’re going to try to find her, aren’t you?” Sydney smiled at him.

“Yes, and I’ve got to go. I’m going to give you five hours to set it up.” He stared at her. “Remember, no one including Vaughn is to be privy to what you are doing except myself.”


Jack watched as his friend Henry piloted the helicopter out of the small meadow. He took the large pack and wrestled it into some nearby brush. By the time he had finished, he had a smaller backpack for himself. The rest was hidden out of sight. Hefting the backpack over shoulders, Jack started into the forest, heading north.


Frank led the way, with Irina following. Dave brought up the rear. They had walked nearly ten miles through heavy brush and forest. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. They had seen nor heard a human being, but plenty of deer, rabbits, squirrels, and other smaller inhabitants of the area. They had stopped once or twice to drink water and eat a bite of their only food, the trail energy bar. Fortunately, they traveled along a stream, which had cold water. It made everything a little more bearable except the deaths of their comrades.

Irina kept thinking about Jack. She knew he and Sydney would be devastated if they thought she was dead. Somehow, she didn’t feel Jack would be convinced. She smiled to herself. She had fooled him once, but this time…she mentally shook her head. He’d be the first one at the cabin. She wondered how he would feel, knowing she might be dead. She knew she would be devastated if he was dead.

“Watch where you’re going,” snapped Dave, who caught her left arm.

Irina stopped. She was about a foot from a little drop-off over the creek. She might have fallen and hurt herself bad. She nodded, “Sorry, Dave.”

They had begun to call each other by their first names. It was evident they had to depend on each other if they were to survive. They had no idea who was after her or if they were even safe in the forest.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he answered, letting go of her arm. He noticed she flinched. “What’s wrong?”

She starting walking after Frank who had gone another ten yards, before realizing they weren’t right behind him. “Nothing,” she answered.

“Is everything all right,” Frank said.

“Fine,” answered Irina. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
She grinned. “I’m not a girl scout.” She remembered when Sydney wanted to be a Brownie and she had taken her to the first meeting. ‘Laura Bristow’ didn’t like the leader, so decided her smart little girl was not going to be indoctrinated by this woman.


Jack looked at his chronometer. It not only told time, but also the compass point he was heading. He had been hiking in the gathering dusk when his com link went off in his ear, warning him someone was trying to reach him. It had to be Sydney because no one else knew he was here. He turned it on, pausing beneath a large pine.

“Yes, Sydney?”

“Dad, you have company!”

He looked around him, “What are you talking about?”

“We were monitoring the cabin site when ten men parachuted into the plateau. They were not FBI. We checked. We’re watching them head south.”

“Do you think they might have just been checking on their dirty work?” He started walking again. “Keep me informed about their whereabouts. What have you found out on your end?”

“We may have found the mole.”

“We?”

“Weiss is helping me. I scanned his cell phone messages first and eliminated him.” Sydney explained. “I’ll know in about two hours. I’ll keep you informed about the ten men.”

“I’ll keep the com Link open.” He kept going. He took out the PDA and opened it up. He periodically checked it to see how close Irina might be. The dot and beeps were almost steady. He estimated she might be within five miles. It was now seven o’clock and dark. He took the night glasses out of his backpack and put them on. They would give him more vision than his own eyesight. He hoped she was all right.

Midnight found Irina and the two men asleep. They had traveled nearly fifteen miles over terrain that might be daunting to anyone even with hiking experience. The FBI men were tough and Irina Derevko would let nothing stop her when it meant her life. She had too much to lose to give up. She had to escape Sloane’s vengeance. He had to be persuaded she was dead or that it was futile to keep coming after her. They had finally stopped when Frank decided they were sufficiently far away from anyone finding them. They were tired and could use the rest. He picked a spot where they were almost out of sight of anyone coming along the creek.

Jack noticed his PDA was beeping so rapidly that Irina had to be within yards of where he stood near the creek. He retraced his steps. He had to check on the other trackers and only Sydney could tell him. Three minutes later, he returned to the spot next to a large rock by the creek. Slowly, he swung his head around in a circle. She had to be close and wasn’t moving. That meant she was lying down, maybe sleeping. He made a slight adjustment in the night glasses. He turned again, stopped and then smiled. She wasn’t alone. He moved carefully toward them. It was Frank Orson and Dave, the other FBI man who had been with Irina when she was shot the first time.

“Frank!” Jack removed his night glasses and backpack. He pulled out a LED flashlight. He was being extra careful since the FBI man had a gun in his lap. “Frank,” he again said quietly.

Irina sat up. “Jack!” The joy in her voice was unrestrained as she heard his voice and found his shape in the darkness.

The FBI man awakened as did the other man. Jack turned the flashlight on himself. They stared at him in astonishment. Jack smiled at Irina. His heart seemed to sigh with relief. She looked so good to him. He kneeled next to her as the other two men struggled to awaken fully. He put a hand on her right cheek. He frowned. It seemed hot. He held the light on her.

“Are you all right?” His eyes searched her face.

“It is nothing. My shoulder hurts a little.” She said.

“Jack, how did you find us?” Frank was awake and very curious, though grateful the CIA man had shown up.

“CIA know-how,” Jack said, turning from Irina. “We have company. Ten men were seen up at the cabin investigating. They were not FBI. They have since left and are on their way south. We have no way of knowing if they are trailing you, or using a road, but they are coming this way and they are heavily armed.”

“Those were RPGs that hit the cabin, weren’t they?” asked Frank.

Jack nodded. “We have to get going. I have some food. There is a lot more about five miles from here in a clearing. I take it you were heading toward Indianola or Suquamish.?” Frank nodded. “Then we’d better get going.” He held out his hand to Irina, who took it in her left.

As he pulled her up, he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. She gasped and her legs buckled. Sweat broke out on her face as she let go of his hand. She fell back, striking the tree with her back. She cried out and now Jack saw she was in pain. He lifted her slowly and then turned her around. He pulled up the jacket. The back of the tee she was wearing was bloody. He tried to lift the tee shirt, but the blood had dried. It stuck to her back.

“Christ,” said Frank. “I had to take the tracker out with my pen knife. It wasn’t clean. We had to act fast.”

“What’s wrong?” Irina gasped, as Jack slowly worked the tee away from the dried blood.

Jack didn’t answer her, instead he pointed to his backpack. “There’s an emergency kit in there—a small flat box. Bring it to me. Irina, I’m going to have to make an incision and clean out that wound. Dave, hold the flashlight steady.

“Irina, I want you to lie down on my jacket while I do this.” He spread the jacket on the ground; then turned her around to look at her. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, never taking his eyes off her, “trust me. It is going hurt a little, but I have some lidocaine with me and I’ll use it to deaden the area. Are you allergic at all?”

She shook her head, “I don’t think so.” She dropped to her knees; then flattened out onto the ground.

Jack worked swiftly as Frank held her jacket and tee up toward her neck. He cleansed the area then took a flat sterile package. The syringe’s needle was inserted into a small bottle and the liquid drawn up into it. Quickly, he injected the area around the ugly infected wound. While waiting for it to take effect, he took another package out, opened it and disinfected a small scalpel. He made a small incision. Yellow pus seeped out. Jack knew a couple of days more and she would have been in serious trouble. He cleansed the wound three times. He used a cotton swab to apply more disinfectant. Satisfied, he placed a butterfly band-aid over the wound followed by a thick small two by two gauze pad. He pulled the tee shirt down.

“Okay,” he lifted her up. “You are going to be fine now. You may have some pain, but not for a while because of the lidocaine, but later. I think we’d better go.” He picked up his jacket and put it on staring at Irina, a slight but warm smile on his face. “You’ll be fine.”

Now Jack led the way with Irina following. Frank and Dave brought up the rear, their guns in their hands. They were the rear guard.

Irina watched Jack’s back with a little feeling of awe and respect. He was her man and he had found her. She could hardly believe it when she heard his voice. She had no doubts now that he loved her. She bit her lip and a tear found its way down her cheek. How had he found her in this forest of all places? What was it he said, CIA know-how? She knew he was talented, but, now she frowned, looking at his broad back. There must be hundreds of square miles of forest in this area and he happened to hike to where they were without help of any kind—CIA know-how? Suddenly, she thought she knew what he had done.

“Wait,” she cried, “Wait a minute.”

“What?” said Jack turning to her.

“You son of a bitch, you tagged me without me knowing it. I thought—I thought we—we…” she stopped, angry tears running down her cheeks. “Oh, God damn you, Jack Bristow!” She said no more, the tears on her face saying it all, as she stalked by him, enraged by his betrayal.

Great chapter, lenafan! I think when Irina calms down she'll realize it was a good thing Jack "tracked" her.
I can't wait for part five.
EspionageFan
:ph43r:

Irin

he tagged you becasue he loves you

now he could have told you

this is true

but he does care for you no matter how weird some of his activities may be


Good chapter lenafan

Ah yes, tagged because Jack loves her.
Jack--weird? Not hardly, actually very pragmatic and down to earth.
Thanks for the review.
B)

Good chapter lenafan. Jack is looking out for her ... Irina just doesn't see that yet.

Awesome chapters. Please write more soon.

Thanks for the pm.

Ah Spymoma darlin'....that wound got to ya' huh? :P A wee slower on the uptake...yes he tagged you. :rolleyes:
But it's all love!! :wub: Arn't you GLAD now that he did? He'd NEVER had found you! :)
Great chapter....can't wait for more! :reallyexcited:
Colly E. :bunny:

I for one see no need for her to get angry, he found her didn't he? well either way, brilliant chapter and really looking foward to the next one, thanks for the pm.

Yes, he found her! Betrayed, indeed! SHe should know better than to use that word. :rolleyes:
Ah yes, part 5 coming up in a day or so...
B)

Part Five

She passed him, almost jogging. Her anger was obvious to everyone. Jack’s own anger was rising fast. He closed the gap quickly and grabbed her left arm. He knew, because of the wound in the shoulder, it would bring her up short.

“We do not have the time to discuss it here,” he snapped. “There are ten men out there, somewhere, who are most probably looking for you. They are much more heavily armed than we are. We have to get to the meadow where we can re-arm ourselves and that includes you.”

Now she looked at him. “What?”

“Yes, you! We may need all the fire power we can muster.”

“These,” she flipped the handcuff chain. “The key is back at the cabin. Protocol, you know.” She glanced at the two ‘fibbies’ who were watching a few yards away. They obviously did not want to get into the middle of a family matter.

“We cannot discuss this now. I want to pick up the pack and get into Indianola before those men and before daylight.” He put his hand on the chain. “We’ll shoot them off there. We have to muffle the sound. Once you’re free, there will be four of us, each with an AK-47.”

“What good will that be?” Irina said. “The four of us fighting off ten—someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Hopefully, they will be the ones.” He touched her. “We’ll talk about your issues later. Now, we have to move fast and move safely.” He took the lead again, using his night goggles as well as the flashlight.

They took two hours to cover the five miles. It was after three. Jack pulled out his PDA, checked it and returned it to his pocket. They had maybe a quarter of a mile to go. He glanced back at Irina, who was picking her way behind him. Frank and Dave followed. No one was talking. They were going down hill, which made the going a little bit easier. However, it was night and they were still careful.

Jack’s cell phone rang. “Yes, Sydney?” He paused. “Yes, I did. Do you want to talk to her?” He handed the phone to Irina. “Your daughter.”

“Hello, sweetheart. Yes, I’m okay. You are?” She listened for another moment, smiled, and handed the phone back.

“Where are they?” Jack asked Sydney.

“They are following Mom and the fibbies. The group is probably ten miles back of you. They are making fair time, unfortunately they know Mom’s still alive.”

“The mole?”

“Got him. Name’s Mark Seaver, an op computer tech. Everything fit into the time frame you specified. He’s confessed.”

Jack heaved a silent sigh of relief. “See you later at the place we agreed upon.”
He put the cell back into his pocket. “We’re being followed and they’re coming at a much faster pace, so let’s move. I want to get to my supplies as fast as possible.”

Ten minutes later, the foursome gathered around some thick bushes. Jack bent down and pulled out the pack. Opening it, he distributed the heavier firepower. He gave each man a package of camouflage clothing. He laid out two Kevlar vests for them to put on after the clothing. He took Irina to one side.

“I’m going to shoot the chain at the wrist. If it works a hundred percent, the cuff will also come off. If not, at least the chains removal with be helpful.” He expected no answer from her and he got none. She watched him wrap her left wrist in a Kevlar he brought along in the package for her. He pointed the barrel of the revolver at the point where the chain was linked to the cuff.

“Ready?” He asked. She nodded. He fired the pistol.

By four-thirty they had found the motel Sydney specified. Frank and Dave stood with Irina while Jack entered the office. He awakened the owner and told him he wanted the entire motel cleared. The manager didn’t care. There was no one else registered there. He took the money proffered and left. Jack waited until he disappeared, then took Irina by the arm.

“We’ll be in Room 4. You can take rooms on either side. We have a couple of hours before Sydney, Vaughn and Weiss get here. The FBI will also be sending a swat team. We’ll know in plenty of time before those ten men get to the city.”

He pulled Irina into the motel room and shut the door. “Now, I believe, you had some issues with me?” He kissed her hard.

She blinked, gathered her wits, and snapped, “you—you put another tracker on me.”

“Yes I did. Fortunately for you, it worked.” He kissed her again, this time with a little more tenderness. “You are not only my wife, but you are essentially my prisoner as well. The deal you and I brokered was founded on my belief you had more to hide than you told us when you first turned yourself in to the CIA. However, I have a feeling there is even more than what you confessed. You are a consummate liar and absolutely charming when you want to be. I wouldn’t be surprised that the ten men stalking us were yours.”

“They are not my men, I swear.” She said, still feeling his lips on hers.

“My dear, even swearing on a stack of Bibles, a book you don’t know or have read, won’t do you a bit of good. However, this time, I do believe you.”

“This time?” She was curious to know more.

“From the time we met, married, and you left Sydney and I you never stopped the subterfuge. So why should you stop now?”

She saw he meant what he said. She saw the hurt in his eyes and in his voice. “I was doing my job! I worked for the KGB. They recruited me at the age of 18 to serve my country, just as Arvin recruited Sydney to ostensibly serve her country. I was trained just like Sydney was to be a spy and field agent. They trained me so well, that I never spoke my native language until I left the KGB in 1991. The only difference between us is that KGB sent me to U. S. to marry an intelligence agent; Sydney was not.”

Irina turned from him and moved to the bed. She sat down, her back to the wall drew her knees up and hugged them. She didn’t look at him as she continued. “I was doing my job, until I fell in love. The first three years of our marriage was so—so good, so perfect that I knew I wanted to have a child with you.”

“As payment for spying on me or was it for the murders of men and women of the CIA you killed?” Jack was seething inside all his anger toward her duplicity was beginning to surface after so many years. His voice, however, was cold.

Irina was stunned. “Jack, you can’t believe that? I wanted a child. I took a terrible risk. I didn’t tell my handler until he thought I was getting fat—almost five months pregnant. If the KGB suspected before that time they would have made me abort. I couldn’t do that and I wouldn’t. Tell me if you think I’m lying now. Fortunately, Valenko, my handler, liked me. He told them that I was still doing my job without any slacking off because of the baby.” She did not add that her father, a high-ranking officer in the KGB, was adamant about them leaving her alone. Irina could have her baby.

“Doing your job!” Jack snarled. “Killing men and women, destroying families.” He was angry, angrier than she had ever seen him. It was as though he had not heard what she said.

Irina jumped to her feet, in spite of being exhausted. “I didn’t kill any of those agents except—except Bill Vaughn!” She couldn’t deny that she had spied for the KGB and possibly that led to their deaths, but she didn’t pull the trigger until Bill Vaughn.

“And isn’t that wonderful. Our daughter is now in love with Bill’s son. That’s ironic, isn’t it, Irina?” He grabbed her right wrist in an iron grip. “Was that doing your job too?”

“Let go of me, Jack.” She swore.

Instead, he grabbed her by her upper arms, his face so close to her she thought she could see her face in the pupils of his eyes. “I would go back on my word right now. I gladly turn you over to the men chasing us, if Bill Vaughn could somehow magically return from the dead.”

“You want to know how Bill died and why?” He was willing to give her up for the life of someone else. She was getting angry too

“I know how and why,” he shook her. “You were doing your job.”

“I hope so,” she shot back. “However, you don’t know what happened. Do you know when he died?”

“No! it’s a part of confidential files that are sealed.”

“I shot him five months after I ran from the U. S. I shot him because he begged me to kill him. I shot him twice in the back of the head. The bullets tore his face into an unrecognizable mass. He was a fellow prisoner in the Kashmir prison. They put him in the cell next to mine. He wasn’t a name on a piece paper. Moyo bog, he is the reason I’m still alive.” She had tears in her eyes. Irina pulled away from Jack who was momentarily stunned by her admission.

“Five months? The CIA has a picture of you.”

“I told you in November when we went to Kashmir I had been a prisoner there. Bill Vaughn was on a mission in Kiev. His contact turned him into the KGB, probably for money. They threw him in that prison because most of the time no one ever left there alive. They beat him without fail every day. They systematically broke every bone in his body starting with his feet.” Irina slumped against the wall, her gaze frozen as she remembered the sights and sounds of her prison cell so many years ago.

“So, yes, I was doing my job when I killed him. They dragged me into the interrogation room where he was. I was told I could go home, proving my loyalty to my country, if I killed the CIA agent.” She stared at the bed, visualizing the scene in that dirty, ugly, and bloody interrogation room. “He asked me to kill him, so I didn’t hesitate. It meant freedom for me and for him.”

“You have killed more than once,” he said prodding, still working out in his mind what she revealed.

“How many have you killed?” She looked up into his eyes. “You and I were in the intelligence business. We both killed for our country.”

“Yes, I guess we have.” Jack said. He seemed calmer. He studied her for a moment. Then he bent down and gently wiped the tear-stained face. “I just wish you had turned yourself in to the CIA.”

“Jack, the KGB had agents in your country whose job it was to maintain control over the illegals working in sensitive situations. If I had walked in, they would kill you and Sydney without hesitation. Valenko told me never to think about it or make a move in that direction, that it was too dangerous for my family. I knew then I had to be extracted.” She sighed. “Essentially, when I had Sydney, I sealed my fate. I would leave someday, but when I did,” she looked into his eyes, “I would leave you a part of me.”

“So you’re saying you ran to protect Sydney and me?”

She put her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes. “Yes, and yes, I know, I could be lying to you, but not about this—ever. I love you, Jack. You have been my only love and I meant it when you came to see me last April, I never stopped loving you or Sydney.” She kissed him.

Jack felt his heart soar as they kissed. All the anger in him had dissolved. All he wanted was Irina. The hell with the CIA! He kissed her back. They stood there pressed against each other. Time all but stopped as they explored emotions hidden for so long. Irina squirmed. She felt the wetness between her legs surge. She needed him.

“Jack,” she pulled away breathing heavily, “can we? Is there time?”

He smiled, “Sweetheart, there is always time.” He took a step back and turned the lock on the door.

Now Jack knows the truth about Irina and Bill Vaughn. Good. That information certainly calmed down his anger. But I feel that Jack will always have his doubts about Irina, no matter how much he loves her. :huh:
Thanks for the great read, lenafan. More, please!
EspionageFan :ph43r:

:wub: lenafan,
That last chapter is great, dont you wish you took writing as a career?
I dont know who I enjoy more, you or Abrams.
wottamom1

EF
Thanks for the nice words. :blush01:

He should always doubt anything other than their wild, crazy attraction and love for each other. :wub: That's what makes them star-crossed lovers. But just wait until we reach the climax of The Di Regno Effect. :lol: :lol: :reallyexcited:

B)

Awwww :wub:

Great chapter.

I've got hold of all the pieces of this, and I plan on reading it these holidays at the end of the month, so yay me! How many parts are there to this one? Can't wait to read it!!! :reallyexcited:

Hey K :P
Six plus an epilogue. Sixth part goes up next week.

B)

ah, amazing, how sweet, I though they would be fighting all chapter, but this is uch better. let's hope to see more soon and thanks for the pm.

B)

Thanks...I'll get reading this one now ;) Can't wait...by the sounds of things it's pretty awesome!

:P