AUTHORS NOTE: Well after the opening episodes of Season Four, I had to write this. If you like my stories, I think you’ll like this. I don’t know exactly how JJ is going to handle the death of Irina (if she’s dead), but this is my take on the storyline he opened up in “Authorized Personnel Only.”
SUMMARY: Jack hunts down Irina whom he thinks has put out a contract to kill their daughter Sydney. He doesn’t know why and will soon find out before he kills her.
RATING: PG-13 except for a small scene
TIME TO SAY GOODBYE
BY LENAFAN
Part 1 - Hunting
Jack stood on the tarmac at Moscow’s Sherymateyo International Airport having just disembarked from a flight from Los Angeles. He took a deep breath, hefted his bag, and walked toward the inside where he would be going through customs. He pulled out a diplomatic passport from his inside pocket and handed it to one of the agents. The customs official studied it and then stamped it.
“Welcome to Moscow, Mr. Bristow.” He handed the passport back.
Jack walked to the entrance of the airport and hailed one of the hundreds of cabs. He got in and told the cabbie to take him to the American Embassy. He sat back, looking out the window at the people, buildings, but not seeing anything. All he could see was his wife, Irina Derevko, as he had seen her the last time…in Panama.
“We should get some rest.” He said, staring at her, putting the tape over the wound. He had just removed the tracking device, knowing full well what she had in mind.
She leaned toward him, looking into his eyes and promising something wonderful. Jack leaned toward her slowly, and they kissed. All the passion he had kept bottled up since seeing her exploded in his heart and mind. She pulled him down onto the bed. Their mouths opened and each sought the other hungrily.
“Jack,” she pulled back, saying in a whisper, “take off my clothes.”
He could feel his own erection growing. He had not made love to her for twenty some odd years. He stood up, pulling her close. He ripped off her blouse and took off the bra, dropping both to the floor. He leaned closed, sucking her nipples. She was caught up in the moment and her body became alive.
“Moya bog,” she whispered. “You haven’t changed.”
He pulled the zipper down and using both hands yanked her pants and panties off down to the floor. She had stepped out of her shoes. He stepped back, his heart beating so fast he almost couldn’t breathe. She was still so beautiful. Lean, lithe and just perfect as he remembered. Her long fingers were working at his slacks. He pulled her close, kissing her again. Her passion was obvious to him. He kicked his loafers off.
They stared at each other with so much desire neither realized they were involved in something more than just raw emotion. Irina licked his nipples. Jack closed his eyes feeling a deep ache inside. She moved down further, stroking his thighs. He gasped when she took his erection into her mouth, sucking and stroking with her tongue. It was as if they had never been apart. He looked down and decided he wanted to be inside her. He pulled her up and they fell back onto the bed, with him on top.
Jack shook himself erect and paid more attention to where they were located. He noted they would soon be at the Embassy. He pulled his papers out of his pocket. He had called in some favors and now had ‘orders’ to work at the Embassy. He reviewed them just as the cab pulled up to the gates. Jack got out, carrying his small bag, presented his papers to the marine guard.
“Go on inside, sir.” The marine saluted.
Jack nodded and went on inside the large mansion. He presented his papers to the Ambassador who called the communications supervisor to get Jack a room to stay in while he was in Moscow. The supervisor grinned at him having seen him a long time ago when he was stationed at Langley.
“Tell me, Jack, what can I do for you?”
“I need a car…something local and not flashy.”
“You here on assignment?”
Jack chuckled, “No, although I have told my superiors why I’m here and they have approved.”
“…And?” Hankins, the supervisor, was curious.
“It’s personal,” Jack answered. “What about it, can you find me a car?”
“Yeah, you can have one of ours.”
“No. I want nothing with diplomatic plates.”
Hankins grinned, knowingly. “I’ll get you a name and number.”
The next day, Jack had a taxi pick him up a couple of blocks away. He gave the man the address. It was to a local Hertz office. There he found an innocuous looking vehicle, paid for it and left.
A week ago, Myron Kartz, an agent friend from Belarus, called him. He had learned of some information about his wife and daughter.
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s a contract out on your daughter’s life. Someone has paid an international killer and terrorist, to kill Sydney Bristow.”
“Who paid,” Jack was stunned.
“Irina Derevko!”
“Her mother?” Jack was angrier than he’d ever been. If Irina had been standing next to him at that moment, he would have strangled her…no questions asked. What reason could she have for doing such a thing?
“I don’t know,” said Myron as Jack realized he had verbalized the question.
Jack hung up the phone and began making plans. He had to find Irina and kill her, before this hideous act came to fruition. He contacted Ben Devlin at Langley. He told him he had to have time off for a personal matter. He told Ben what he had to do and Ben approved the sanction.
Following the conversation with Ben, he had gone back to the Rotunda to see Marshall. Although the young man was somewhat tongue tied around him, Jack felt he had a good working relationship with him. Jack helped him a couple of times with projects. There was one of Marshall’s inventions that no one knew about. It had been their secret.
“Marshall,” Jack closed the door behind him, snapping the lock.
The young oddball scientist and computer genius looked up and grinned. Jack Bristow had bestowed on him an honor. At least Marshall thought so. He agreed to be Mitchell Flinkman’s godfather, joining Sydney as the baby’s godmother. Jack had done everything that Carrie and Marshall had asked albeit not much other than showing up at the church when they had Mitchell baptized.
Marshall put down the piece of equipment he was working on and looked up at Jack. “What c-can I do for you?”
“I want to know if you can find our experiment.”
Marshall blinked a couple of times. Then it hit him. “What’s wrong?” They had agreed some time ago to never speak of the other tracking device Jack had put on his wife, Irina Derevko, that night in Panama.
“I need to find her. It’s about Sydney.” Jack did not elaborate. “Can you?”
“Do-do-do bears love honey?”
Now here he was in Moscow with the small hand held PDA that, when Jack pushed a small button, would show a tiny white blinking dot, leading him to her. Jack sat a moment in the car he had just rented from Hertz for a week. He had the PDA sitting beside him on the tray. He knew Moscow traffic would not allow him to hold the box in his hand and maintain control of the car.
Jack started driving east along the highway and about ten miles out from the rental car company, located in the heart of the city; he stopped and picked up the box. The light was almost to the top of the three by three screen. She was not in this direction. He turned around and headed north. The same result happened, only the dot appeared to the left edge of the screen. Jack turned west driving along the major highway leading toward Belarus. Again he stopped. The dot was near the center of the screen. She was in this section of the city.
He got out of the car and started scanning the city. She was somewhere west still, but not far. He looked around. There seemed to be nothing but apartment buildings of varying heights. Jack drove off the highway and into the apartment suburb. Up one street and down the other, checking the PDA. The dot moved very little and told him only that Irina was somewhere in this area. Jack Bristow was a patient man. He could afford to spend the time. His only purpose was to find Irina and kill her.
It was dark when he saw the dot stop blinking and a small steady sound emitted from the PDA. He stopped the car and looked around. Ahead of him loomed a large building. He got out of the car and walked toward it, patting his right side. He had a plastic gun in a holster…another of Marshall’s innovations. He walked a hundred feet or so from car to the end of the block and stared at the building.
It was a hospital. He looked at the PDA, pointing it toward the building. It did not waver. Irina Derevko was somewhere in that building. Jack turned and went back to his car. He would return in the morning…with flowers.
Part 2- Found
Jack walked up the steps leading to the entrance of the hospital. There were several stands outside the hospital, which sold flowers. He bought some yellow roses and at an outrageous price, but it didn’t matter, just so long as he was able to get inside without suspicion. She was in the prison ward. He had contacted Marshall, who hacked into the SVR and Fapsi files to locate information on her. He found out Irina Derevko was an enemy of the state, so to speak, and was, according to the notations on her record, in the hospital for a lung disorder. Jack knew she didn’t smoke at least as long as he had known her while they were married and never during the short time they spent together after she walked into the CIA.
Before leaving for the hospital, Jack had new papers faxed to him by Marshall, complete with the official signatures and stamps. On this visit, he wanted to establish himself and he wanted to talk to Irina. He left his gun in his room, dismantled and hidden just in case someone with the Company was instructed to search it.
Inside the hospital, he approached the desk, asking to see Irina Derevko. The receptionist made a call as Jack expected and shortly thereafter, a uniformed man wearing Sergeant stripes came out of a room down the hall near the elevators. Jack held the flowers calmly and confident in his ability to get past any bureaucratic blocks.
“Sir, who are you.” The sergeant was polite.
“I am Irina Derevko’s husband.” Jack handed over the papers. “I have been given permission to see her.” He had not only the papers Marshall sent him, but calling in a favor owed to him by Sergei Voloroff of the SVR, a fellow agent and confidant, he had real papers. In the back of his mind, Jack had some ideas, the completion of which would depend on his seeing and talking with Irina.
“Ah,” said the sergeant, “I must give these to the Lieutenant.” He turned a left Jack. A minute later, another man approached Jack, the papers held in his hand.
“You are an American?”
“Yes, and she is my wife.”
“Did you know she is a dangerous criminal, wanted in many countries, including your own?”
“Yes, but I understand she is very ill. If she is dying, I need to talk to her about our daughter.”
The lieutenant studied him for the moment. The husband was tall, extremely distinguished looking…steel gray hair, cold dark eyes, and prominent ears. “I see you brought flowers.”
Jack handed them to him. “They are her favorite.”
The lieutenant checked the flowers, knowing he would not find anything. He handed them back. “She’s on the tenth floor. I’ll take you up.” He pointed to the elevator.
When they reached the top floor, the lieutenant led him down to a door, which he opened with a key. “She is in the third room on your left.”
“Thank you,” Jack said. “You are most kind.” He shook hands, leaving a thousand Euros note in the man’s hand.
The lieutenant glanced at it and beamed at Jack. “Let me know when you want to leave. There is a phone…” he pointed at it. “Call. It is a direct line.”
Jack nodded and walked down the hall. He heard the door snap shut behind him. There was a loud click. The door was now locked. He didn’t worry about it. At the third door on the left, he pushed it open, pausing to look over the room.
There was only one patient in the room meant for three. The beds were plain and stark. No electric buttons and no trays on wheels to help patients. There was one bedside table located next to the patient on his or her right. One old wooden chair was painted white. No pictures on the walls and definitely no television. There was no bathroom either. He saw no phone anywhere. Jack was puzzled too by the lack of any nurse anywhere in the unit. There was a stench in the room, which meant all was not well with the patient.
He walked to the bed. Irina was lying on her side, staring out the window. He hesitated noting how thin she was and as he came around to face her, how gaunt her face had become. Her hair was long, stringy, and unwashed. She smelled.
“Leave me alone,” she said in a low raspy voice.
Jack threw off his coat, tossing it on the chair. “No.” He glanced at the table and saw something that might be a bedpan. “Irina, look at me.”
“I can’t, I’m having a dream.”
“When did a nurse come in to see you…or a doctor.” Jack was rolling up his shirtsleeves.
“Maybe yesterday.” She said, still not looking at him. She was afraid.
Jack looked at her again, putting his hand on her forehead. She was running a low fever. She definitely was ill. He turned and turned the covers down on the empty bed next to her. She wasn’t moving to watch him. He quickly ascertained that she moved to the side of the bed in order to not lie in her own excrement. He pulled back the covers before she could object and picked her up in his arms depositing her onto the other bed. He pulled the covers over her as she stared at him dumbfounded.
“Damndest dream I’ve ever had,” she muttered.
Jack rolled up the dirty sheets and stalked out into the short hallway. He saw no one, even in the ward where several beds were occupied. He dropped the bedding on the floor near the door. Then he went to the phone and picked it up.
“Lieutenant, I want a nurse up here now. Who is her doctor?” He listened for a moment. “Don’t give me that crap, get her and the nurse, before I do something you won’t find pleasant.”
He slammed the receiver down and stalked back into the room. Irina was staring at him as he came through the door. “Jack?” Her eyes were wide open now and she was in shock. She was shaking.
Jack stood next to the bed staring at her. “My God, Irina, what happened?”
“They found me over a year ago, I think. It was the SVR. Someone told them where I was hiding.” She dropped down onto the bed, exhausted. “Was it you?”
He shook his head. “No. What’s wrong with you?” He pulled another blanket off the other bed and put it over her.
“I don’t know. I’m sick that I know, but the doctors haven’t told me, which isn’t unusual in my country. What are you doing here? How did you find me? Sydney! Did you find her? Is she all right?” Irina’s last communication with Jack had been about Sydney’s disappearance.
Jack processed the questions and now knew it wasn’t this Irina Derevko who had put out a contract on Sydney’s head. Someone else was responsible, but used her name. “Sydney is all right. Turn over.”
She barely had the strength to do so, but did. Jack swore under his breath. She was dirty with her own filth and he saw what looked like a breakdown of her skin, which meant an ulcer.
The door opened and two people entered with the Lieutenant immediately behind them. Jack nodded and waved him back. The doctor stared at the patient then at Jack. She spoke a few words to the nurse who hurried out of the room. The doctor was a woman.
“Doctor, what is wrong with my wife?”
“You are her husband?” She was surprised.
“Yes,” Jack went to his coat and pulled the papers. “I want to know her condition.” He motioned to her to go out into the hall. The nurse was back with a basin of water and clothes. She began to clean Irina.
Jack continued speaking with the doctor. “That is beside the ulcer I see on her buttocks.”
“She has tuberculosis. That is why she is isolated.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed and he studied the doctor. “TB? How long has she been here?”
“Just three weeks…she’s advanced and there’s nothing I can do for her. We do not have access to some of the medicines being used in Western Europe or the United States, especially for convicted criminals.”
“I see,” Jack sighed with regret. “How long?”
“I’m not sure…” she looked into those cold dark eyes and was surprised to see a look that might resemble sorrow. “She may die any time…it could be days, weeks, perhaps a couple of months…”
“Look, I’m going to be here for a few days. My wife and I have some things to settle. While I’m here, I want her cared for, prisoner or not.” He reached in his pocket and handed her two one thousand Euro notes. The doctor was surprised, but didn’t refuse. Things were still hard in Russia.
“I’ll give you a copy of her medical records. It’s obvious you speak Russian well. Do you read it?”
“Yes…and thank you.”
When Jack entered the room, he saw that the nurse had finished. She was about to help Irina out of the bed and into the one by the window. “Here,” said Jack, “let me lift her over.” He picked Irina up and gently laid her down on the newly made bed and pulled the sheet and blanket up.
Irina had tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said to him. She warm and clean for the first time in three days.
Jack turned to the nurse. “Bring me a vase and her some food. Good hot soup…with dark bread. Hot tea with sugar and cream…,” He handed her another large Euro note. “…and none of the swill they usually feed prisoners. There’s more of these for you if you don’t fail.”
“No sir!” The nurse tucked the noted into her bosom and left the room.
Jack turned around, brought the chair to Irina’s bedside, sitting it down to face the door. He already checked the room for ‘bugs’ and there were none. Obviously every one thought Irina Derevko was dying and there was no one to visit her. He didn’t doubt that would change as soon as the powers that be learned he was visiting.
Part 3 - Why
“I don’t expect us to be able to talk freely after I leave.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m glad to find you here, however.”
She stared at him confused by his kindness and concern. “I’m dying, Jack.”
“Maybe and maybe not…” He bent over again, taking her right hand in both of his, leaning close to her. “I came to kill you, Irina.” He felt her tense up as she tried to pull loose. “Listen. I came because someone told me that you had put a contract out to kill our daughter.”
“No, no,” she whispered.
“I can see that someone else is using your identity to set it up. Who do you think it could be and why?”
Irina was crying, shaking her head, “No, no,” she whispered again. “Please, Jack, not Sydney?”
“Yes. My contact, who is quite reliable, was positive when I asked him who had put it out. I was so angry and horrified to think you would do such a thing. But now, seeing you like this, I know you didn’t.”
“Jack,” she whispered, “I think it’s the Covenant. It’s Katya.”
“Your sister?” Jack was remembering what Katya told him after she arranged for Sydney’s escape from North Korea. “In time, Irina will make her intentions clear.”
He sat down. “Why?”
“The Covenant is worried about the Prophecy. If Sydney is the Chosen One, she will be the one who will end their attempt,” she began to cough. It was a deep, racking cough. She was wheezing, coughing, and finally began to spit up. Jack held her and a towel in front of her mouth.
“They are up to no good and it will be Sydney’s destiny to stop them.” Irina was reminding Jack of the Prophecy.
“And what about The Passenger?” Jack was reminding her of someone she knew about, but had never told him.
“Oh…” She looked miserable.
The door to the room opened and the nurse entered, carrying a tray. Jack rose up and took it from her. He brought it to the bedside and put it on the chair, turning then to help Irina up into a sitting position. He put the tray on her lap. The soup was steaming and the cup of tea looked hot.
“Need some help,” he asked.
“Sorry,” she whispered, lifting her eyes to meet his.
He knew what she was thinking of…the affair that led to the birth of Nadia. “What happened?” He said gently.
“Sloane found out I was a KGB agent. If I didn’t sleep with him, he’d turn me in … and say you knew, but didn’t care.”
Jack stared at her, wondering how much of it was true. There was a child, but was it an accident or was the child planned. He had done some serious thinking about The Chosen One and The Passenger. Sloane believed he had the connection to Rambaldi, but Jack was sure now that it was Irina Derevko.
“Eat,” he commanded. He watched her spoon in the soup and eat some bread. She sipped the hot sweet tea between bites. He still wanted to know more about the two Prophecies that had brought so much danger to his family.
Jack watched her. She had made his life so complicated and he hated her for so many years not realizing she was alive. Then Sydney who so wanted her mother had precipitated the initial contact that brought her back and with it, the hatred, anguish, and the love he felt for her. Irina’s passion for all things Rambaldi was her downfall. She could not give it up.
There was one thing he had now, Nadia. Sydney was enamored of her sister and his kindness toward the young woman had made his daughter appreciate him even more. He sighed, thinking about the reason he was here in Moscow. If she ever found out about the sanction, his relationship with her could change. He couldn’t think about it. He had to think about the contract and who had really put it out. Was it Katya? He coldly reviewed the relationship with that woman.
He had slept with her, angry with Sloane and the affair. It wasn’t as though it happened after Laura…no, Irina, left. It happened while they were married. He thought Arvin was his friend. Of course, by this time, he knew different. Jack compared Katya to Irina in their sexual encounter and the sister came up short, at least he thought so. Irina and he had something that few married people had—a great sex life.
Jack saw Irina falter in spooning the soup into her mouth. “You had enough?”
She nodded. “I—I don’t have much of an appetite.”
He picked up the tray. “Want some more tea?” He noticed only half had been sipped.
“No,” she sighed tiredly. She watched him take the tray outside the room. He was back with a vase he found outside the door. It had some water in it. He took the roses he left on the bed stand and put them in the vase. “They are beautiful. I haven’t had roses since…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered.
She started coughing again, trying to get her breath. Jack picked up the towel lying at the end of the bed and held it again as she spit up sputum. He noticed a slight pink tinge.
When the coughing stopped, she fell back onto the pillow, exhausted. “Jack, I want to tell you something.” She could not give her voice strength.
“I will be back tomorrow.” He leaned down and looking into her eyes, said, “we can talk more tomorrow. You need to rest. It has been quite a day for you.”
She smiled and almost laughed, “more than you know, Jack. Still I want you know this…I have money, lots of it. When I die, it will go to Sydney. There is a lawyer in Basel, Switzerland. Henry Hochner, Sr. has a copy of my will.”
Jack was astonished. He had never thought of Irina as someone who planned so far into the future. He had thought if she were smart, she would never have continued with her fanatic involvement with Rambaldi. He wondered if she realized how entangled she was with the 15th century scientist and seer, Milo Rambaldi. Could she be a relative?
“Will you, Jack?” She whispered.
“Of course,” he answered softly. He kissed her gently on her cheek.
She watched him leave the room, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. She had to make a decision.
Part 4 – Kill me!
Jack stood at the window of his small room in the Embassy. He would be going back to the hospital this morning. He was waiting for the morning mail to be delivered. He had sent a fax to France when he returned from seeing Irina. If all went well, a bottle of great wine would be delivered with the mail. He was contemplating a plan of action, but he wanted to see her.
It was ten o’clock when the diplomatic mail pouch arrived and with it a bottle of wine for Jack Bristow. He took the wine and left immediately.
Jack greeted the Lieutenant at the hospital with a handshake and two one thousand Euros. Jack also invited him to join him at lunchtime. He extended the same invitation to the doctor whom he had met at Irina’s door.
“How is the patient, Doctor Miraslova?”
“Much better, I think. However, it was probably the excitement of your visit. I do not anticipate a miraculous recovery at this point.”
“I understand.” Jack handed her two one thousand Euros. “I do appreciate your taking better care of her though.”
Dr. Miraslova left with a smile, hoping Jack would be here every day. She would certainly see to it he was kept happy with her and the prisoner’s status.
Inside the room, Jack was satisfied there was no repeat of the smell he had encountered. Irina looked as if she were asleep. Jack removed a small black box from his pocket and swept the room. Two lights went on immediately, both located near Irina’s bed. He walked over and pinpointed one in the flowers. He looked and saw the miniature wireless bug that had been placed in among the roses. Silently, he followed the light to the other one. This too was a wireless bug. It had been poorly placed underneath the chair. He removed it and walked quietly out of the room.
“Irina!” Jack sat in the chair, looking at his wife.
She opened her eyes slowly, a small smile playing on her face. “Jack, you came back.”
“I said I would, sweetheart.” He leaned forward taking her hand in his. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I think we’re …”
He nodded knowing she knew their conversations would be monitored. “Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of them. As far as anyone listening knows, you are asleep and I’m just waiting for you to wake up.”
“Jack, I—I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Kill me.”
He gaped at her, stunned. That had been the reason he came to find her. Then, knowing she had not ordered a contract on Sydney’s life and was dying herself, he made other plans.
“Why would I do that?” He said softly at last.
“I’m dying, Jack, by inches. I served my country and in doing so, destroyed my life and yours. I would rather I die by your hands than this way. Just don’t blow my head off.” Her feeble attempt at humor brought a wry smile to his face.
“Irina…I won’t promise.” He gripped her hand hard. “I did bring you some wine though. I thought we’d have a drink before I left this afternoon.”
“I thought you wanted…my death.” She stared at him accusingly.
Jack sighed. She knew how he felt. How could not Irina imagine his hatred for what she had done while living as his wife and mother to Sydney. It was her job and she did it well for her country. He sighed again. Yet, he still loved her. He could not erase her from his memory, even though, God knows, he had tried.
“I—I’ll think about it.” He straightened up, letting go of her hand. “There is one thing I do want to know. If you die, where do you want to be buried? I can take you to Los Angeles. The girls could visit your grave.”
“Why would they?” Irina was surprised.
“Because you are their mother, Irina. Who here would mourn your passing?”
She stared at him. Then she nodded, “If and when I die, take me there.”
The phone call came late that evening. Jack stood at the window watching the night march across the city. Lights were turned on around the Embassy and a short distance away lights were seen around the Kremlin. He walked to the phone and answered it.
“This is Jack Bristow,” he said. “What? You’re sure? I’ll be there in a half hour.”
Dr. Miraslova met him at the door to Irina’s room. “I’m sorry, but sometimes these things happen sooner than we anticipate. However, I know she was happy these last two days while you were here.”
She led the way into the room. Irina was lying in her bed, eyes closed and still as death.
Jack stood over her, touching her cheek tenderly. “I’m taking her home to Los Angeles.”
“But I thought …she’s Russian.”
“But her daughters are in Los Angeles. She has no real family here. They have already asked me to bring her home.” He smiled. “I would appreciate it if you would assist me in getting a casket. I’ve made arrangements to leave in an hour on the next polar flight to LA.” Jack had cut it close.
“But shouldn’t she…”
“It will take too long. Put her in a casket. I’m going to have her cremated.” He handed the doctor five one thousand Euro notes. “I know you will see to it.”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m coming down with you to the morgue.” He seemed to offer her a chance to challenge him, but she only nodded.
An hour later, the plane rolled up to the tarmac on the freight side of the airport. Jack, dressed in a suit, tie and overcoat, stood waiting at the side of the truck. The sole item on it was a plain wooden box containing the remains of Irina Derevko, spy, assassin, wife, and mother. She was at peace at last. She was going home to Los Angeles.
At a crematorium outside of Moscow, a woman’s body was delivered in a wooden box. She was to be cremated and her ashes put into an urn. Someone would pick them up within the week and take them to the mausoleum. A card, with the name, Irina Derevko, was attached.
***
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