AUTHOR’S NOTE: There are several questions left unanswered and probably more about what the future is in store for our Bristow family.
I know you wanted everything tied up into a neat package, but Alias doesn’t operate that way and neither do I. The Rambaldi Stone is finished. It (the stone) is of no use anymore as Sydney can do her own remote viewing without its help.
Is Roberta Quinn a relative and a close one at that? Is she a double agent and if so, who does she work for—the U. S., SVR or someone else?
Jack told Irina he was Tonio…but Tonio, who?
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to ABC and JJ Abrams, except those I developed.
RATING: PG-13 to R


***

THIS WOMAN HERE DEPICTED WILL POSSESS UNSEEN MARKS; THE SIGNS THAT SHE WILL BE THE ONE TO BRING FORTH MY WORKS. BIND THEM WITH FURY. A BURNING ANGER. UNLESS PREVENTED, AT VULGAR COSTS, THIS WOMAN WILL RENDER THE GREATEST POWER UNTO UTTER DESOLATION.

PROPHECY
BY Lenafan

CHAPTER 1
WARNING

Jan went back to his Special Forces unit from the SVR under the orders of General Probukov. Sydney spent her days visiting with Sophia and the children. She even took care of them a couple of evenings a week so Aleksey and Sophia could go out alone. She had not heard from either Jack or Irina and now it was the fourth week since their departure to Africa. She would not use her remote viewing ability to intrude until they asked her “to visit” them.

However, at the beginning of the fifth week she felt as though someone was trying to contact her by meditation. She sat cross-legged on their sofa, closed her eyes, and emptied her mind of outside thoughts.

“Mom?”

“Sydney, are you all right?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. How are things in Africa?” Sydney still had a hard time believing her parents were living somewhere in Tanzania.

“Wonderful, sweetheart.” There was a pause. “You know I never thanked you for taking care of The Master. It must have been a painful shock.”

Sydney suddenly felt a pang of sorrow in her heart. “Yes. Are you going to be back soon?” There was silence. “Mom?”

“I’m still here. To answer you, I truly do not know. Not right away…we’ll let you know.”

“Mom, what’s it like there?”

“Sydney, you wouldn’t believe it. Your father built home on hill overlooking Serengeti Plain. The house is one story with two large master bedrooms on either end of it, large kitchen, and mammoth living room. Entire house, except for kitchen, opens out onto porch. There are no windows and no doors except for one at end of hall near our room. I have not figured how we have no visiting animals at night, but…Sydney, I know you would love it here.” She paused. “Tell me, sweetheart, how are you and Jan?”

“We’re fine. Jan is on duty right now, but we talk every morning and night. I spend a lot of time with Sophia and the twins. Mom, they’re incredible and so smart. I swear to you I think they understand every word I speak to them.”

“Sydney, be careful. They have our genes and they will be dominant over those of Sophia and her family. No one must suspect anomaly.”

“You think they have it?”

“Without a doubt just as your father also. I’m going now. When your father says you may do so, we’ll let you view our home.” Irina left.

Sydney went over the conversation and realized exactly what Irina had implied…her father had the ability to heal fast from injury without scarring. She walked to a window and stared down into the street without really seeing anything. Her father too? When did that happen? Irina told her and Aleksey that an old scientist injected her mother while she was pregnant with Irina. How did her father receive the same type of injection? When?

She frowned remembering her parents telling her about their visit to the Master after leaving Lake Baikul. According to the old monk, both her father and her mother had the Magnificent Order of Rambaldi tattoos. It seemed impossible to her that her father didn’t know he had it, but that’s what Irina related when they were talking.

Sydney focused her eyes and noticed for the first time two men standing across the street reading newspapers. “What the hell,” she asked herself? They were dressed in dark suits, long black overcoats, and hats. Maybe she was being paranoid. She certainly hadn’t done anything to rouse anyone’s suspicion. She turned away. Jan was coming home this night and would be home for three days before returning to duty. She wanted to cook him something special.

That night they made love twice and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Sydney was up early though to fix a good breakfast. They made plans to visit Sophia and the twins, then to go to see the General who had retired two weeks after his return from The Hague. Sydney told him Jan was coming home and he told her to come out for dinner.

Grigor drove them out to the dacha and invited inside to join them. The General greeted him like a son. Their trip across Europe together with the tapes had cemented their friendship even deeper. Mikhail had always felt that he owed the big man a debt he could never repay—that his protection of Irina when she was in prison was worth more than just his friendship.

It was at dinner that night while Jan was telling the General some of his recent training exercises for his men that Sydney’s eyes became unfocused and turned inward. She was thankful that the three men, who were busy swapping army stories, ignored her.

She remembered that when they left that afternoon, there were two men outside the apartment house. The same two men stood reading newspapers. Were they still there? Using her scientific remote viewing capabilities, she saw they were not. Gone! However, where did they go? Scenes flashed by her eyes and then she saw them! They were in a car outside the dacha, several hundred meters away, parked behind some bushes.

She allowed herself to focus on them now…moving into the car with them. They were SVR agents. Why were they following her and Jan? She had given no one any reason to follow her. The two men were bored, but they were following instructions. Instructions from whom? SVR headquarters at Lubyanka might give her the answer. In a flash, she was there and in the new director’s office. It was empty. He had gone home. Something on his desk might tell her. She looked, but there was nothing.

Suddenly, a door opened. Three people entered, a young woman about Aleksey’s age and two men. One was Kendall; the other was the new director, Chornov.

“Our men have her under surveillance now,” said Chornov.

“Well, she hasn’t done anything suspicious?”

“No, nothing. Frankly my men are getting bored. When that happens they can get careless.”

“She needs to be…” the woman spoke, then broke off, looking around the room. “ We’re being watched…”

“Impossible!” Chornov said. However, he looked around to be sure.

Kendall stared at the woman, “Are you sure, Quinn?”

“Yes!” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know who it is, but…” she looked at Chornov, “…have you had success with remote viewing? And don’t deny it; we know you have been experimenting as we are…”

He had the good grace not to try to bluff. “Yes, but only on a short view…room to room.”

“You might want to check to see if anyone is training now,” said Kendall. He watched as Chornov left the room. He looked at Quinn. “Is it…?”

“It could be, but there’s no way telling…yet.” She moved about the room as though searching for a physical body to explain the feeling she had. “I think she’s gone.”

“This is downright spooky,” said Kendall. “We know she’s about 75 kilometers from here. If it is Sydney, then she’s far more advanced than we ever suspected.”

“I told you she could locate Sloane if she wanted to bad enough.” Roberta Quinn sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. Crossing her legs, she looked up at Kendall. “Your Department of Scientific Research probably needs to re-evaluate Sydney Bristow’s capabilities. She is a genius. What is there to stop her from expanding her SRV ability to cover vast spaces? She possibly could view the Pentagon, Langley, the White House and no one can stop her.”

“ANNA!”

“What?” Sydney jerked herself into the dacha. All three men were staring at her.

“Where were you?” Jan looked concerned.

“Sorry,” she drank some tea, “I was thinking about Mom and Dad. Talking about training and the army was kind of boring.”

“I’m sorry too, sweetheart,” Jan stood up. “I think is time to go, sir. I have only two more days with my Anna.” He shook hands with the General. “Maybe next time I come alone so we don’t bore her.”

Sydney kissed her grandfather and they left. Grigor drove them back in the sedan. Sydney pulled Jan over to her, they kissed, and Jan held her in his arms. Sydney closed her eyes and looked behind to see the car with the two SVR agents in it following. She felt Jan nuzzle her neck. She looked up at him and closed her eyes again. She needed to think about what she had seen and heard. That young woman looked extremely familiar. Quinn was a name she had not heard before when she was a CIA agent.

She visualized what she looked like. Quinn was five foot eight or nine; her face was slightly narrow, her lips were full, she had long dark brown hair, which she wore in a French roll. Her eyes were blue, though, and bright. She didn’t pluck her eyebrows and seemed to be wearing only lipstick and some eyeliner. She was attractive. She seemed supremely confident in herself and her ability. However, she was partially wrong. Sydney had not left entirely. She had shut down the viewing power she used. It was as though she was seeing through a zoom lens and ‘powered’ it down.

“Why are they so interested in me? I don’t work for anyone any more.” She thought, somewhat puzzled.

“Anna,” Jan whispered. His right hand slipped under the top of her dress. “Is everything all right?”

Sydney smiled and felt a sudden surge. She loved his roving hands. He was always respectful of her needs and knew to get her ready for sex. He knew he had to make foreplay a prerequisite to their having sex and he wanted her again…tonight.

“I will make big love to you this night.” He whispered. His right hand explored her other breast, rubbing the nipple tenderly and slowly.

She pulled away and turned slightly to look at him. “Be careful, darling, I might wear you out before you leave.”

Jan laughed aloud, leaned down, and kissed her. “You are my one and only love. I am how you say—delirious with my happiness.”


Meanwhile thousands of miles away in the Artic a strange phenomenon was taking place. The polar ice cap was wet, leaking, pouring uncountable tons of water into the oceans, bays, and seas. The denizens of the deeps noticed it. The oceans were cooling as the icy water mingled with the warmer waters. Whales thought about it and began going south, much, much earlier than they had ever gone. It would not be much longer before another mammal, Man, noticed it.

A weather plane flew over the polar ice cap and brought back pictures. The ice was melting! Weather scientists hurriedly booked seats on planes headed for Alaska. In Russia, the scientists headed for Vladivostok where they would take their planes north into Siberia and thence over the ice cap.

Two days later scientists from all nations close to the Artic were in a meeting discussing the matter via satellite. They all agreed the ice cap was melting and probably had been melting the past three months and no one had noticed until now. Suddenly, someone cut into the international feed and interrupted the meeting.

its here its here

chapter 2 is coming soon right lenafan?

bren

yay, it's finally here.
awesome first chaper, loved it of course, that remote viewing is so cool.
i'm so excited this really made my day, can't wait for the next part!
and thanks for the pm.

Well, another brilliant start! This means that you have 10 chapters in the bank doesn't it...YAY! More story! *woot!*

Oh yeah, guess my #1 fan knows me too well. :rolleyes:
Yes, ten chapters nearly completed and more being written. :D

B)

CHAPTER 2
CAPTURE

In London, intelligence agents met hurriedly. Arvin Sloane had finally re-appeared and was demanding control of all communication and military satellites. The most chilling thing was that he knew how many there were and how many countries had put up satellites. The original twenty agents had grown to over fifty with at least one representative from each country involved.

Chairing the committee was MI5’s, George Lacey, by election. He was extremely cool headed and at six foot six was a commanding presence in the room. There was a large television screen behind him. A picture of the polar cap was being shown as one of the many satellites passed over it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please stop talking.” He paused as silence permeated the room. “Thank you. We still do not know exactly how he is doing it, but Arvin Sloane has told everyone involved, that he and he alone is responsible. Our scientists know about global warming. We can expect, according to all of the scientists, an increasing surge in flooding around the world as the ice cap melts. However we’re not sure that Sloane is actually controlling the process.”

“Do we know what else Sloane wants?” Zui Ching from China asked. He was fat. His hands folded over a massive stomach. Black eyes stared out from his moon face. His black hair was cut short. Thick lips spoke in a soft but almost sinister tone.

“Not yet, at least nothing beyond the ones he already demanded,” but he paused again, looking at everyone. “Our governments are vulnerable: communication satellites not only involve television, but all phone calls. The military satellites have incredible capacities. I do not want to enumerate those in deference to your governments.

“We have no way of stopping him?” asked Kendall of the United States.

“We don’t even know where he is,” said a voice from the back of the room.

Lacey looked at Vaughn and Weiss who were seated close by. “We need help and there is an outside chance someone can help us find him.”

“How is it our own agents who are spread out around the world cannot locate him?” Zui Ching said.

“There is a person who may have the ability to see where he is.”

Silence as those in the room assimilated her words.

“See where he is?” Ching dropped his hands from his belly and sat up. “You mean remote viewing capabilities that good?”

“Yes, but…” again, Lacey stopped.

“The problem, ladies and gentlemen, is that our one hope will probably not want to cooperate.” Roberta Quinn stood up and faced the others. “I’m Quinn of the FBI. I’m a profiler. The CIA asked me to ‘study’ our SRV subject. I am confident this person could find Arvin Sloane if we outlined the problem.

“However, because of an error in judgment, we recently caused our SRV not to trust us.” Roberta glanced in the direction of Vaughn. “I’m not sure our phone call would be answered.”

“If he understood this is a world crisis,” suggested Chornov of the SVR. “This is for humanity.”

“Who is this person we are talking about?” demanded someone from the rear of the room. “Does he have a name?”

Silence for the moment…then, Lacey answered, “Sydney Bristow.”

There was not one intelligence agent in the room who didn’t know who her. Her exploits while with the SD-6 and then the CIA were almost legendary. They were also aware of who her parents were. Now retired, she was married to a Special Forces officer of the Russian Army and living in Moscow.

“Has anyone approached her about this?” Another agent asked.

Suddenly the door burst open and a man rushed up to Lacey with a piece of paper in his hand. “Sir, you better read this.”

Lacey took the paper and read it. He gasped, looking up, motioned to Roberta and Kendall to join him. He handed the paper to Kendall and Roberta read it from his side.

“Sloane has sent another demand. He wants Sydney Bristow without delay and…her mother, Irina Derevko. If we hand them over to him, he will give us another forty-eight hours to send him the controls of the satellites. In the meantime, he states in a gesture of good faith, he will stop the polar cap from melting. However, he wants the two women now.”

“Why does he want them,” asked Kendall. He knew Sloane and Jack had been friends. Irina had been his partner earlier up until three and a half years ago. “We know where Sydney is, but where is Irina?”

“Sydney knows,” said Roberta quietly.

The last two weeks Jan was on duty with his SF group. They were on some kind of maneuvers in the area close to Archangelsk. He had told her they going to do some cold weather practice. They talked by cell phone almost every morning and evening. Sydney missed Jan and tried to keep busy with Sophia and the twins.

She and Aleksey saw more of each other in those two weeks than they had their whole lives. Aleksey told her about his childhood in Ireland and of the few visits their mother had been able to get away to see him. Now that he had a family, he appreciated the sacrifice she made to see that he was raised free of the communist influence.

“I wanted mother so bad that when I was sixteen I begged her to take me with her.” He grinned. They were talking in the office. Some things he never told Sophia. “She did and I must say the old girl was a bit of hard task-master. She was ruthless and almost without a heart. Still she ran a very smooth operation. I for one was glad she was my mother. I certainly didn’t want to deal with her as an opponent.”

One night near the end of Jan’s current assignment, Sydney got a call from him. He was disturbed and spoke almost in a whisper. She wanted to know what the matter was. He told her that the military command cancelled all leaves. He was being shipped somewhere east into Siberia. They were to be on call. He didn’t understand why and his superiors had told no one, even his colonel, why.

“For how long,” asked Sydney.

“I don’t know.” Jan said. “I’ve got to go. Someone’s coming and no one is supposed to phone home.” The cell phone was off.

That night Sydney received a message from her grandfather’s old secretary at Lubyanka. He had come to Moscow to see some old friends and wanted to meet her for dinner at place he liked to go that was not fancy. She was given an address and the time was 8:00 pm. The weather was cold, so she dressed warmly in tailored grey sweatpants, sweater, short boots, and leather jacket. Grigor wanted to drive her, but she told him to stay home with his family.

The address was that of a very old restaurant in an old section of Moscow, close to the Kremlin. There were a few patrons inside when she arrived. She was given a table in the center of the room. She ordered iced vodka. She expected Mikhail any moment. Sipping the vodka, Sydney glanced around the room. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She saw someone she never expected to see in this particular restaurant. She gave no sign of recognition but studied the other people in the room. They didn’t seem to be out of place. She glanced at her watch. The General was late. On a hunch, she removed herself from the present and went to the Dacha. There he was eating soup in the kitchen. This was a trap of some kind.

She returned and looked up as the waiter approached. “Did you wish to order, Miss?”

Sydney asked for a bowl of borscht and vodka. “Where is the bathroom?”

He pointed at a small door. “Inside, Miss.”

Sydney stood. “Thank you.” She stood up and walked through the door he indicated. Inside the very old room, she saw no window. She couldn’t get out that way. She stood for a few minutes, flushed the toilet in case someone was listening, and returned to the dining area. Two more couples were seated close by, one at a table behind her and another in a booth across from her on the left. As she sat down, she knew she was in trouble. She ate the thick soup, which was surprisingly good. She did not touch the vodka. Sydney thought about the situation—she needed time. She glanced to her right at the woman sitting in the booth.

Without warning, Sydney stood, took two steps, and slid into the seat opposite the woman. “Hi, you’re Quinn, aren’t you?”

The younger woman gaped at her. “What?”

“I’ve wondered where we’ve met, but I can’t place it. I’m Sydney.” She held out her hand. The other woman cautiously reached out and took it. They stared silently at each other for a moment and then Sydney knew why she looked familiar. Other than the blue eyes, Quinn looked enough like Sydney to be a sister.

“Nice to meet you, Sydney.” Roberta stared at her quarry, surprised by the friendliness in her voice and demeanor. Perhaps, she would cooperate. She discarded that thought immediately knowing Sydney’s dislike of Sloane. She too was struck by their resemblance.

“I wonder if you could tell me something. Why is the CIA interested enough to have me followed by the Russian secret service.” Sydney’s voice was calm and she was smiling.

“What?” Roberta was caught off guard for the moment.

“See, I’ve been followed for several weeks now and I know I’ve done nothing to cause any one in a foreign secret service a reason to do so.” Sydney smiled again, sitting back a little. She sensed movement in the room. She could not see everyone from where she was sitting. Using remote viewing, she now studied where everyone was. Two people were leaving as they finished their meal.

“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” Roberta played dumb although she knew Sydney was on to them.

“Oh?” Sydney’s eyebrows rose. “You are lying, Quinn. By the way, I think you and I are related.” She slipped out from the booth, pulled her wallet, and threw some Euros on the table for the waiter. She had ten meters to walk until she got to the door.

“Don’t move,” Roberta Quinn pulled a gun from her purse and held it on Sydney.
Sydney expected it and lashed out with her left foot, kicking the gun out of Roberta’s hand. Two men jumped out of the booth next to Quinn. They were met by crushing blows to their mid-section by Sydney’s feet. When Sydney turned to hit the second man, Quinn was out of the booth trying to find her gun, which landed on the floor.

Sydney was half way to the door when four more men jumped her. She tried using every Krav Maga technique she had in her repertoire to get away, but there were too many. Someone hit her in the back knocking her forward and another hit her on the side of the head. She dropped to the floor, nearly unconscious but still aware of what was happening to her.

One of the agents she had kicked was angry and was about to deliver a kick to her right side when a voice stopped him. “Don’t or I’ll shoot. She’s supposed to be alive when we deliver her.”

“The b*itch kicked me,” gasped the agent.

“Did you expect her to give up easily?” Quinn had her gun as she stepped over Sydney. “Pick her up and let’s get her in the van now. We’ll sedate her there.”


Sydney awakened four hours later. She was in a plane flying somewhere. Groggy, she carefully looked around. This was a government plane. She could tell because of the seat configuration. The seats in front of her faced her. She sat in a seat by herself. They had her handcuffed with a thick steel wire looped over the cuffs to the shackles around her ankles. What the hell was going on, she thought. Where am I going and why? She shook her head trying to clear the cobwebs away. Who was on the plane with her? Sydney looked forward. She could see there were people in front of her. She couldn’t turn because of the shackles.

“Hi!” Roberta Quinn dropped into the seat facing her. “How do you feel?”

“Groggy. Where am I going?” Sydney asked. She was not about to dance around the subject. “Am I under arrest for something?”

“No, we’re going to deliver you to Arvin Sloane!”

“What?” Sydney was stunned. “Are you crazy?”

“No afraid not, Sydney. It seems the world is being blackmailed by Mr. Sloane and part of the price is you—and your mother.”

Sydney blinked. So Mom and Dad were right. Why? She looked at Roberta. “You find them?”

“No, we were hoping you’d help us.”

Sydney stared, “Are you nuts? I help you so Sloane can get his hands on them. He’ll kill Mom and maybe Dad. There’s no way.”

Roberta sighed. She had guessed as much. “Sloane says he has found a way to melt the Polar ice cap. However, there is a global warming effect and scientists don’t believe he has anything to do with it. We can’t take a chance. We need your help to find your mother. He has given us 48 hours.”

“I will not tell you where they are. Find them yourself.” Sydney snapped. Then she dropped her voice so only Roberta could hear. “I still think we’re related.”

“I think not,” said the younger woman. She stood up and left, walking to the front of the plane to join other agents.

Sydney sat quietly assessing what had passed between them. She had to contact her parents. There was no way they could be captured. She knew Sloane would kill Mom just for betraying him. She wasn’t sure why he wanted her. She never liked him and that had turned to outright hatred after he had Danny killed. She glanced at the front of the plane. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her. She glanced out the window next to her. They were maintaining their course and were not descending yet.

She leaned back in the seat and stared inward.

Up front, Roberta using her compact mirror, watched Sydney ‘leave’ the plane. “She’s gone.” She said this to three other men: Kendall, Vaughn, and Weiss. Since Sydney Bristow was a U.S. citizen, the governments had given the US agents the responsibility of delivering her to Sloane.

“I don’t get it,” Vaughn said, looking at Kendall. “She’s leaving where?”

“It’s hard to explain,” he answered, “but as Director of the DSR, I’ve seen it happen.” He glanced at the mirror Roberta was holding. “Remote viewing requires total inward concentration and focus. I think she’s gone to tell Jack and Irina about Sloane’s demand.”

Weiss shook his head, “I don’t like giving Sydney away like this.”

“No one does,” said Roberta, “but earth is in a critical situation.”

“Yeah, but can’t we use our satellites to locate Sloane and deal with him militarily?”

“Tried, but couldn’t.” answered Kendall. “Sydney is the key here. Who knows, maybe the Jack and Derevko will agree.”

“When hell freezes over,” said Vaughn in response.
***

claps hands and gets cosy

sigh

a mystery in the making and new secrets

cannot wait for ch 3

wauw, so Sloane's melting the world and Sydney's kidnapped again,
can't wait to see where this is going.
and is roberta really related to Sydney? a cousin maybe??
hope to see an update soon, and thanks for the pm.

It's incredible ! I loved that chapter ! What a twisted plot, bravo ! :lol:

Very good again!

Sorry I've been off so much, but being awake from 6am til 2am really cuts down your free time! Great stuff though, can't wait for more!

And Alias starts in exactly a month minus a day! YAYAYAYAYAYA!!!! (except that I have a Math test that evening...meh)

Thanks everyone. Appreciate your remarks.
Glad you like the story.

B)

CHAPTER 3
DELIVERY

Sydney, using her new ability, stood on the hill facing the mammoth structure. She was impressed. The house was beautiful. She wandered inside. It was evening here almost dark even. It was warm as her ability included using her senses. The house was as her mother described it: immense and striking. When in the world had her father had the time to build it? She did like the house. It was stark, but aesthetically tuned to its setting high over the Serengeti Plain. It was very Jack Bristow, but there were touches here and there that made her think her mother had been at work.

Where were they? They were not in the house or outside close by. Had the intelligence agents found them? She didn’t think it was possible. No one knew exactly where Jack or Irina was. Africa was huge. They could be anywhere. She didn’t think Tanzania was high up on anyone’s list of places to look for them. Sydney wandered out the only door she saw in the house. There was a path at the bottom of the steps. She followed it to a pool of water. No one was in it. She bent down and felt its warmth. She turned walked back inside and out onto the porch that went around the house. She stared out into the veld looking at the road that led upwards to the house and saw the vehicle approaching. She waited.

A big Range Rover truck pulled up to the front of the house. Irina, Jack, and an African exited. Irina hefted two large bags in her arms and walked into the house. Jack and the other man managed two big boxes and made another trip for some smaller ones. Those were taken into the living-dining room. Sydney viewed everyone with interest. Her mother, who looked younger, was putting away groceries. Jack, whose hair seemed darker, and the African began unpacking the boxes. Sydney moved closer to see what he had bought.

Suddenly Jack stood up. “Irina, come here, darling.” He didn’t move.

Irina appeared in the doorway. “What is it?”

“I think Sydney is here.” He murmured. He looked around at Daniel who was on the other side of the room. “You can leave, Daniel. Come back in the morning and we’ll finish then.”

“Okay, Jack, I know Mary is waiting dinner. See you tomorrow.” He waved and took the truck.

Irina watched him go then looked at her husband. “How can you tell?”

“I taught her, remember?” He put his arm around her. “I know she isn’t here just for a visit. I think something’s wrong. You’d better contact her.”

On the plane, Sydney closed her eyes and waited.

“Sydney.” It was her mother.

“Mom! I love the house.”

“What has happened?”

“Sloane has re-surfaced. He’s demanding control of the world’s satellites…all of them… military and otherwise. He states he has found a way to melt the polar ice ca. The scientists think it is global warming. I agree. He’s lying.”

“Sukyn sin,” cursed Irina. She sensed there was more. “What else?”

“He’s demanded that I be turned over to him and he wants you. He’s given the governments forty-eight hours to comply.”

“Where are you, Sydney.” Irina asked almost fearfully.

“In a plane heading west toward the Atlantic I think. I’m a prisoner.”

“Oh Sydney…” Irina swallowed. “Stay, I’ll be back. Let me get your father.”

She looked at Jack and told him what Sydney told her. They sat on the large sofa, holding hands.

“Sydney, your father is joining us.”

“Hi, Dad, I love the house.”

“Thanks, but what exactly is going on and who is running the show.” Sydney proceeded to fill her parents in with every detail. She told them about the remote viewing she did when the intelligence community was discussing her.” She paused.

“There’s something else. Roberta Quinn is a FBI profiler. Mom…Dad…she looks so much like me, it’s scary. She has blue eyes, but other than that...it’s like looking into a mirror.”

Jack looked at Irina who was frowning. She knew Sydney was always honest in her assessment of people. Suddenly she gasped…and burst into angry tears. She jumped up and walked out onto the porch.

“Sydney, we’ve got to go. I want you to be patient. One thing, do you think they are taking you to the U.S.?” Jack was looking for time.

“I don’t think so. They seemed bent on delivering me to Arvin and he won’t be in the States.”

“Good and not good.” Jack stared at Irina who was visibly upset. “Wait. We’ll be back as soon as we talk it over.”

Breaking the connection, he stared at Irina. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Those sons of bitches,” she wailed, tears falling down her cheeks. She turned into his arms. He held her tightly, stroking her head and shoulders.

“Who?”

“Jack, I never told you, well because time has almost erased the memory. I had twins: Aleksey and a stillborn little girl, at least the KGB doctors and nurses told me it was stillborn. They did a caesarean on me, as I was too weak after getting out of prison to give natural birth. I don’t think father knew about it either. I—I think they took the baby from me to raise as a Project Christmas child. Jack, if Sydney is right and I don’t doubt her, we have another child—a daughter.” She was sobbing now. It had been twenty-six years since Aleksey was born.

Jack held her close to him as he assessed her words and the implications. “If what you say is true and I do not doubt it, our other daughter is now a double agent. Did the nurse or doctor ask you if you wanted to name the dead child?”

Irina shook her head, “No. I didn’t know about the ‘still-born’ until the next day. I was too weak to think straight.”

“Then we don’t know her real name. Irina,” he cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her face up to him. “I have an idea that she doesn’t know either, other than what Sydney said to her. If she believes Sydney, then she has to know this is her sister she’s sending into Sloane’s hands.”

“What does he want with her?” asked Irina, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

“Let’s ask her?” They sat together on the sofa again. “Sydney?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Sydney sat still.

“What do you think Sloane wants you for?”

“He wants the Rambaldi Stone,” she answered. “It’s at home and I can’t get it. Jan is away on some kind of maneuvers.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m going to get it. As far as Sloane knows, I walked away with it when I left him in Botswana.”

“Does he suspect my remote viewing ability?”

“As far as I know, no.”

Irina entered the conversation, “Sydney, I think you were right. Roberta is your sister.” She explained.

“Dad, what’s going to happen?” Sydney felt pain of now knowing what she suspected was true.

“Your mother and I are putting a plan together. One thing, your mother has to go into hiding. Sloane must not get his hands on her. He’ll take the Di Regno heart. She’s in more danger than we are.”

“But everyone will be looking for her. I don’t think she’ll be safe wherever she goes.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” said Irina. “I’ll be fine.”

Silence, then Sydney said quietly, “Mom, Dad, one thing more. I’m pregnant.”

“Moya bog,” whispered Irina. “Does anyone else know?”

“No, not even Jan.”

“Then do everything Sloane wants,” advised Jack. “Don’t put yourself in danger. We love you and want you safe. I’ll be there as soon as I get everything together. Whatever you do, however, do not tell Arvin we can communicate.”

“I won’t. Love you both.”

“Listen carefully then,” Jack started.
Sydney sat on the plane, her eyes closed, and her mind busy. Irina and Jack had given her a plan they thought might work. It had a slim chance, but they had to keep Sloane from doing any more damage to earth and the ice cap. Jack warned her she would have to be resolute in carrying out her part. Sydney opened her eyes as she felt the plane descend. They were over land, somewhere, she thought, on the west coast—either England or France.

After the plane landed, they put her into a helicopter. Quinn and Vaughn stayed behind. Kendall and Weiss were going to make the delivery. Sydney, sitting between the two men still wearing handcuffs, stared straight ahead not wishing to make conversation with either of them. She had no wish to talk to people she knew who now were, she thought, enemies. Still she could see that Eric Weiss was in misery. It was obvious to her then he was still a friend.

The helicopter traveled almost two hours over the Atlantic, northwest of Ireland, heading toward Greenland. It was one of the big powerful fast moving helos and it could fly a round trip of three hundred miles. Below those inside could see the Atlantic was roiling. Dark clouds foretold of a storm in the area where Sydney was to be delivered. Kendall and Weiss were nervous. Neither man expected this. It meant a higher range of difficulty for the crew to put her on the target, the hatch cover on the freighter. They both were wondering if it would be successful. It had to be, too many countries were counting on Sydney Bristow being delivered.

Ten minutes later the pilot notified his crew that the freighter was in sight. Kendall looked down and grimaced. “It’s going to be bad.”

Eric looked out the other side of the helicopter. “Unnh huh.”

Sydney said nothing. She couldn’t see out either side anyway.

A crewmember approached with her boots in his hand. “Mam’m, I think you are going to need these. Put them on now.”

She took them and put them on quickly. They were sturdy hiking boots with non-slip soles. Weiss tied the laces properly as she couldn’t, wearing handcuffs. Looking out the window, she could see the rain pelting the helo. There was wind also and that wouldn’t help.

“Sir, get the lady ready. We’re going to try to lower her in a basket.” The crewmember pointed at the door where a large wire basket waited.

“Sydney.” Kendall stood, swaying, and lifted her up. He took a key from his pocket and put it in her jacket pocket, zipping it up. He looked at her and her at him. He was taken back by the coldness in her eyes and on her face. She said nothing, but walked to the basket.

“Syd, I’m so sorry,” Eric joined her. “Can I do anything? Does your husband know?”

She looked at him and saw the misery again in his eyes and face. She flashed him a small smile and shook her head, looked at the crewmember who motioned her to sit down. Once she was in it, he threw a bar in front of her. “Anyone meeting me downstairs,” she said softly at him.

“I hope so, Mam’m.” He could not have been more than nineteen, clean-shaven with clear green eyes, which made her think of a man she once loved.

Another crewman shoved open the door. He and green-eyes stared down. The freighter was about a hundred feet below. It was maneuvering the best it could. Heavy seas were running and waves broke over the gunnels, throwing tons of water onto and over the ship. The one man who controlled the arm of the basket was talking into a helmet-set to the pilot. He listened. He looked at Sydney then the green-eyed sailor. “The captain says we gotta lower her from here. It’s too dangerous for us to go lower.”

“My god,” cried Weiss. “A hundred feet down in this wind and rain? Are you crazy? She’ll be killed!”

“I—I’m not happy about it either, sir, but we gotta try.” He looked at Sydney, squatting down in front of her. “Mam’m, I’m real sorry that we can’t get any closer.” He stood up before she could say anything. He pushed a button and the basket arm moved outward carrying the basket with it.

Sydney knew this was going to be tricky and extremely dangerous. She gripped the bar in front of her. The basket swayed perilously. She looked back at the door and there were four men watching as the basket began to drop slowly toward the rampaging ocean and the deck of the freighter. She swallowed as rain and wind swept over and around her. She was soaked by the time the basket had gone ten feet. The wind was behind her and kept the basket swinging back and forth. Sydney was not religious. It had not been a part of her upbringing, but now she did not hesitate to offer a prayer for a safe delivery. At fifty feet, the basket swayed even more. She looked down. No one was on deck. She couldn’t see anyone in the wheelhouse, but then that was to be expected. She doubted anyone could see her either.

Suddenly her stomach heaved. She was nauseated. If this kept up anything she ate or drank the past day, which wasn’t much, might come up. She gulped air—wet air and took deep breaths. Now the basket was ten feet from the hold cover. She looked around. No one seemed to be close by. Then she saw the wave, heading toward the ship. It was huge. She looked up. The helicopter pilot and his men probably could not see how massive it was. Wind driven whitecaps trickled across the top. Did the pilot of the ship see it? She gulped, this time with cold fear in her belly.

Then without warning, she felt the basket rise at a fast clip. Below her, the wave hit the freighter. The tip of it scooted by her boots. She watched as the freighter reeled, rolled, but then righted itself. It must have great stabilizers. The basket began to be lowered again and this time as she looked down, there were two men near the superstructure. They were probably designated as her pickups. Again, as they neared the ten foot height, the ship, wind, and rain moved relentlessly. She went down another foot, then another and another. Seven feet at least. She looked out at the roiling seas. She saw no giant wave. Sydney pulled up the bar. She would have to jump. She scooted to the edge of the basket. She waited watching the deck move. She jumped as the deck moved up at least one or two feet. She hit the hatch and did a tuck and roll. The hatch cover tilted with the ship and she felt herself sliding. Suddenly two pairs of hands grabbed at her arms and clothing, halting her movement. They set her on her feet.

”You okay,” asked one. She nodded. They hurried her over to the superstructure and to a door, which they began to open. “You got guts,” said the same man. He looked at her with respect.

“The boss wants to see ya now,” said the other man, opening the door

As they turned, there was a whistling sound, so loud it caused Sydney to flinch. The explosion was unexpected. She whirled to see the helicopter fall from the sky in pieces. Tears formed in her eyes as she thought of the two young sailors…and Weiss. Oh my God, she thought tearfully. Weiss is dead…and Kendall too.

They went up four flights of steps to the captain and the wheelhouse where Arvin Sloane waited. One opened the door and pushed her inside. Sydney dripped water across the floor as she moved toward the two men standing near the controls. She stopped as her former employer looked at her non-commitally. “Hello, Sydney.”

She said nothing. She hadn’t ever planned seeing him again. Now he was back in her life and all the hatred she felt for him returned. Let him do the talking, she thought. He had blackmailed governments into kidnapping her and bringing her to him.

“Where are your mother and father,” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know where they are,” she answered. “Why did you shoot down the helo?”

He turned a little more to face her. “Where is the Rambaldi Stone?” He ignored the question.

Sydney stared at him. The stone—she had guessed correctly. She now wondered if he knew her father had taught her remote viewing techniques. She didn’t need the stone anymore. “It’s in my jewelry box at home, I think.”

“Show me your hands,” he ordered. She put out her handcuffed wrists. He grasped her hands, looking at her fingers. She wore only her wedding and engagement ring.

“So you’re telling the truth?”

“Of course, Arvin, why would I lie about that?” She said. She glanced out the wheelhouse window. “The helicopter…why?”

“I didn’t want them to see the direction we are going.”

“Why?”

He gazed at her through those blue lenses. “We’re going to wait for your Father and Mother. I gave the governments forty-eight hours to find them. That’s all the time the world has.”

Jack watched Irina driving away with Daniel. He was taking her to the small airfield, which was used by a local safari to deliver clients to their camp on the Serengeti. From there she would fly to Nairobi and thence northward. She would be a day’s journey from her destination—the secret apartment in Moscow. She had to get into the city unseen. Using the computer there, she would follow Jack’s instructions in hacking into the U.S. intelligence computers in Langley. He was thankful she had complete confidence in her ability to do so without being detected. It would be tricky and dangerous.

As soon as they were out of sight, Jack strode through the house and back out to the pool. He moved to the rocks behind it, squatted down, and moved a stone. Reaching down inside the space, he pushed a lever. The rocks descended into the ground. Steps appeared behind them. Jack moved and moments later, disappeared. The rocks returned to their position behind the pool. Inside, Jack moved down a short passage and the sign of Rambaldi appeared over the doorway of the room he entered.

On board the freighter, Sydney was locked into a small inside stateroom, without windows. Sloane ordered the handcuffs removed when she promised she wouldn’t try to escape. Sydney was not planning to try anything. She was following Jack’s instructions to do anything Sloane wanted. Irina and he were setting in motion a plan to get Sloane to extend the time limit.

In the wheelhouse, Sloane watched the Captain pilot the freighter into a huge ice cave located somewhere on the northeast coast of Greenland. It was deep enough and large enough to allow the freighter to turn around. The anchor dropped into the water. Minutes later, a large motorboat appeared and a ladder was tossed down from the lower deck of the freighter. First two men followed by Sydney and Sloane climbed down and the small boat left the ship and traveled deeper into the cavern.

Sydney watched the freighter move out of the cave. Now what?

***
:unsure:

Another fantasmic chapter! I'll do my best to keep pace with the readings but can't garuntee a check in every time :unsure: Is your beta back in town to check the rest of the chapters? MORE MORE MORE!!!!

sloane is such a bastard

I am curious about jack - he is so secretive

overall I love this adventure

CHAPTER 4
QUANTICO

Roberta Quinn sat at her desk reading over material sent to her by the Pittsburgh Police Department. They had two murders on their books, recently committed, and needed to know if they had a possible serial killer on their hands. Roberta had gone over the material carefully and found some similarities, but they did not meet the criteria to call them the work of the same killer. She emailed the Pittsburgh police her findings and the differences. They were looking for two separate killers.

She sent off the message and sat back in her chair. In front of her now was a single sheet of paper on the FBI Director’s letterhead. It simply informed her that Gail Sobieski from the Philadelphia office was on her way to Quantico to be the new temporary director of the Behavioral Science Unit. All agents that could be spared were hunting for Irina Derevko. They needed agents who were experienced to look anywhere and to follow up any leads. Thus, both CIA and FBI agents were helping all other law enforcement and intelligence agencies to locate her.

The public was aware that their lives and homes were threatened. If Arvin Sloane did not get what he wanted, he was going to melt the polar ice cap. Scientists, however, scoffed at his threat. The price was control of all military and communication satellites and, perhaps the oddest part of his demands, Sydney and Irina Bristow. Sloane was informed after Sydney was delivered to him that Irina Derevko had disappeared. Dr. Martin Franks, a well-known and respected oceanographer, informed Sloane that he was lying about being able to melt the ice caps.

Sloane then angrily notified the United States and all countries in the western hemisphere that he planned to detonate the core of every dormant or active volcano along the so-called Ring of Fire. Scientists knew if he did that, it could change the weather patterns of earth for years to come. He told them that everything was in place and he would demonstrate his power shortly.

Jack Bristow, in Africa, radioed the CIA in Langley that he would find Sloane and personally kill him if he touched a hair of Sydney’s head. He also said he would be complying with Sloane’s wishes that he join his daughter in custody. He did not mention his wife’s whereabouts.

Thinking about Sydney, Roberta remembered her meeting with the former CIA field agent, who had looked so familiar to her. Sydney then told her she looked enough like her to be her sister. Roberta sighed and walked over to a mirror she had hung on the wall to the left.

Someone had thought it odd and asked her why she had the mirror instead of a picture or her law degree. Roberta shrugged and didn’t answer. She used the mirror for a single purpose: to look at her visitors from a different aspect. Blessed with peripheral vision, Roberta could always see the reflection as she spoke with any visitor. Sometimes when she interviewed suspects, it helped her gain a different perspective.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She was tall, about five feet nine inches, and had clear skin. She looked at her face: blue eyes, eyebrows that matched the color of her hair, dark brown. The nose was a little long, but straight. Her cheekbones were a smidge high, but blended nicely in spacing of the nose to eyes. She had dark eyelashes, which were touched lightly with mascara. Her ears were a little large for a woman, but she wore her hair long and it covered them. She eschewed wearing earrings. The mouth was wide and her smile, when flashed, was genuine. It always revealed straight white teeth. Her lips were full. She usually wore a subdued red lipstick.

Roberta stepped back, cocking her head to one side and then the other, to see herself from a slightly longer distance. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a picture of Sydney Bristow. It was not the best, but it was a CIA identity photo. She looked at it and then at herself. She still could not see why Bristow had insisted they looked alike.
The door opened and she replaced the picture quickly in her pocket.

She was surprised to see Michael Vaughn. “What are you doing here?” She asked, walking to the seat behind her desk. He had been intimately involved with Sydney Bristow three years ago, before she disappeared.

“Nice to see you too, Bertie,” and he grinned at her. The fibbies had given a nickname her when she was going through training two years ago. It had stuck with her and she allowed it. It made her ‘one of the boys’. The FBI was so full of male testosterone that women had a hard time breaking through the glass ceiling. She hoped she would change someone’s mind about that some day.

“Sorry, but I was thinking. You caught me off guard.” She leaned back in her chair. “Shouldn’t you be off looking for Derevko?”

He smiled, “I was on my way to check out a tip we had that she was seen in Charleston. Since they made the award of ten million for her capture, the world is on a huge hunt. Her picture, statistics, is on every TV, radio, and plastered on walls everywhere. No one is unaware how important she is to the safety of everyone.”

“I know. I’d like to be in on the hunt.” She smiled. “You better get moving.”

“I thought you might like dinner? If I get through early, I’d love to take you out.”

She laughed, “A date?”

He nodded. “Not a real date, just having dinner together.”

She studied him for thirty seconds and saw that it made him uncomfortable. She was curious as to his state of mind. He had lost Sydney and now his wife had been dead only a month or so. Here he was asking her to have dinner.

“I can’t, but thanks. I expect to be overwhelmed by work. The office has been stripped of agents for the hunt. However,” she smiled, “I would like a rain check.”

He stood, grinning, “Sure. I’ll call you when this is over.”

“How long do you think she will stay on the run?”

“Irina Derevko will be caught. She is not safe from anyone any place in the world.” He turned and left the office.

Quinn watched the door close. He wanted to date again, so soon after Lauren’s death. She was uncomfortable with the thought he may not have loved her. His eagerness to blame Sydney Bristow for the plane bombing had been an interesting play. She had a fleeting thought that he might still be in love with the former agent. She missed the chance to ask him if he thought she looked like Sydney. She shrugged.

The intercom buzzed and she flipped the button. “Quinn.”

“Gail Sobieski asks you to come to her office.” It was the operator for the group of agents who were in the profiling section. There were just two agents left out of the thirty who had once occupied one-half of the second floor.

“I’ll be right up.” Roberta picked up her notebook and ran out of the tiny office she occupied to the elevator. She met the other profiler, Dick Sorrentino, there. Obviously, they both got the same message.

“Hi, Dick, are you going to see her?”

“Yeah. Have you met her yet?” She shook her head. He sighed, wondering what Sobieski would be like.

Two minutes later, they presented themselves to Sobieski’s secretary. She pointed to the door and the pair entered. A woman sat behind a large desk, framed by the bright sunlight from behind. Overhead lights though flooded the office to keep their vision equal. The new director stood up and held out her hand to the two profilers.

“Thank you for coming up.” She nodded to the two chairs facing her desk. “We have a lot of work to catch up.” She flipped through a folder on her desk. “I’m going to assign you several cases that piled up on the former director’s desk. I know there are only two of you, but I’m going to help also. I’ve divided this into three separate but equal groups.” She nodded to a stack in front of both. “Those are yours.”

“In spite of the need for speed, I would appreciate it if you would take time. The FBI has a reputation, which I will not have besmirched by carelessness.”

Sorrentino nodded and Quinn agreed. Roberta studied the woman in front of them. She was thin, fairly good-looking, probably in her sixties. She had quite a bit of gray hair, which she wore long. Green eyes gazed at them from behind horn rim glasses. She wore small pearl earrings in her ears and a pale colored lipstick on her mouth. Her mouth was a shade wider than most, but she had an engaging warm smile.

“If you have to work overtime, then do so. I’ve got you two hours a day, but no more. And if you need help, we’ll brainstorm in the #1 conference room.” She stood indicating they were to leave. “Sorry about the work, but you certainly know why.”

“Yes,” both said at once. They started to leave, files cradled in their arms.

“A moment Agent Quinn,” said her boss. She watched as Sorrentino left the room.
“I understand you met Derevko’s daughter, Sydney Bristow?”

“Yes, in Moscow.”

“What did you think of her?”

“Very smart, beautiful, and quick.” She remembered how fast Sydney had responded when she pulled a gun on her. “I wonder what Sloane wants with her…and her mother.”

Sobieski sat in her chair. “They have a history according to the report I read—with Sloane that is.” She smiled. “Look, I know you want to be in the hunt, but someone had to stay behind to work on case files. They assigned you to me, because your former boss thought you would be more focused on the files than the others would. I thought it was quite a compliment.”

“Look, we’ll be late tonight and I’d like to take you and Sorrentino out to dinner on me.”
She gazed at Roberta questioningly.

“I’ll be happy to go, but Dick’s married with a couple of kids. I think he’ll want to go home.”

“Very well, it will be you and I then.” She nodded a dismissal and Roberta left the room.

Sobieski swung around in her chair and looked out over the area. There were virtually no men or women visible. The FBI training area was empty of all agents. They were operating the hunt from FBI headquarters in Washington. It was a little creepy to walk through the building to find only a handful of agents in place. There were many clerks and a few operators, but it seemed empty.

She stared down at the report in front of her…about Roberta Quinn.

*** :huh:

Ok you have me hooked

What is up with roberta quinn :ph43r:

and what is it with vaughn and never being without a woman??

good work lenafan! Its a different kind of story but it has all the elements of what we love about you

suspense. clear writing, character development and consistency of detail :wub:

CHAPTER 5
RUN SILENT

Sydney followed Sloane. Guards walked in front and behind her. As if I had a chance to escape wearing manacles, she thought. There was a bend in the ice path and as the entrance to the ice cave disappeared, something totally unexpected loomed ahead of her. She gaped in astonishment. Sloane had a submarine—a nuclear submarine, parked at the end of a small narrow dock.

“Damn it. I have a feeling I’m going on a long undersea ride.”

“Get on board,” said Sloane, motioning her along the narrow gangplank.

Once on board, he led the way to the huge conning tower. Sydney followed wondering what she was going to do next. Could she RV underwater or even meditate her thoughts to her parents from deep in the ocean. Where was he going? North to the Arctic? She was totally at a loss. She climbed down into the main control room.

“Take her to the brig,” said Sloane. He turned away to speak to the captain…at least Sydney thought he was a captain since he had the most gold braid on his cap.

The two guards marched her down a corridor. They stopped in front of a door and one unlocked it. The slid back into the bulkhead and the other pushed her inside.

“Hey, what about taking these off.” She shoved her wrists toward them

“Naw, not until the boss says so.” The door slid shut with a clang.

Sydney stood a moment, angry. She turned around to look at her new accommodations. They were as Spartan as they come. Bunk no more than three feet wide. A toilet sat on the other side of the door and a washbasin next to it. She barely had room to move in any direction. This was a guy room for sure. It was utilitarian from the word go. She sat in her bunk, yoga-style, studying the room. There was no way out.

“Where are we going?” She knew she had come through the control room, maybe using her newfound remote viewing capabilities, she could watch. She wondered if she would be able to communicate with her parents. Of course, now, they were each hurrying to complete their part of the plan. First, she knew, Jack had to get more time from Sloane. She knew that, she glanced at her watch, which she pushed up so it wouldn’t be scratched by the manacles. “Dad should be contacting Sloane now.” Sydney sat quietly her eyes closed and ‘moved’ through the submarine until she could ‘see’ the control room.

The captain was giving orders. She could hear sounds that meant they were getting underway. “Where was Sloane,” she wondered. She watched. Men came down the hatch in front of her and sounds of a hatch closing in the forward section meant the rest of those that cast off had come aboard.

The engines, almost dead silent, propelled the boat forward slowly. The Captain was watching the screen. Sydney moved herself over to see what he was seeing. The boat was moving slowly out of the ice cave. As the boat left the cave, it began its dive. She could feel the slanting of the powerful machine as it sank into the black waters of the North Atlantic.

Where was Sloane? She ‘felt’ her way through the boat. He would have the best quarters with much more room than she would. He had to be close to the control room. Her eyes scanned the doors. There was one closed. She entered.

“I gave you forty-eight hours and you are twelve into that forty-eight.” Sloane was on a radio.

“Arvin, how in the hell am I to bring you the Stone, if I’m in Moscow?”

“Where’s Irina?”

“I don’t know, but I think she’s aware why you want her.” Jack’s voice was filled with sarcasm.

Sloane snorted, “She won’t get away. I imagine everyone in the world is looking for her.” He imagined the infamous Russian woman would not last long anywhere. He had seen television news broadcasts, heard radio stations, all blurting out the face and figure of Irina Derevko and his offer of ten million dollars for her capture alive. There would be nothing paid if she were dead or if she were severely hurt.

“I should think so,” Jack commented. “Now do you want the Stone or don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” snapped Sloane. “Go to Shermetyevo and report to the airport chief. He will have orders.” He cut off their conversation. A moment later, he was talking to the Russian airport chief and told him what he wanted.

Sydney left.

She returned to her quarters. She stretched out on the bunk and went to sleep.


In Moscow, Jack stood in the apartment staring at the four men facing him. General Probukov, Jan, Aleksey, and Grigor had heard his end of the conversation. There was concern on the General’s face since his daughter, Irina, was now the most hunted of any man or woman. Jack refused to tell him where she was.

“I told her to hide.” He said to them earlier. “I did not want to know. It will be her choice. She must stay out of Sloane’s hands. He’ll kill her if he finds her or someone turns her into him for the money.”

“She is going to be safe?” The General probed.

“I have no idea.” Jack sighed.

“My Anna…do you know…” Jan was visibly upset.

Jack shook his head, looking at the younger man who was his son-in-law. He could very well understand all he was going through. It had been the same with him those many years ago when his ‘Laura’ had the accident. Her body had not been recovered. He shook his head as if to rid himself of the memory. He and Irina had made their peace with each other and Jack wanted to enjoy the next few years, watching his grandchildren grow up.

“She’ll be all right. We told her to do everything Sloane wants, whatever that is.”

“Did you and mother have a plan?” Aleksey eyed his father confident they did.

Jack chuckled, “Son, we have only one plan now, to get to Sydney as soon as we can.”

“Where is she?”

“I think she’s somewhere in the Artic,” Jack said. “I’ve got to get to the airport. I want you to come with me while I tell you what I planned.”

“Why does he want Irina,” the General asked in a demanding voice.

Jack turned and said solemnly, “He wants her heart.”

All four men stared at him in astonishment. “Her heart? But…but…” the General cried, “didn’t he save her with a heart transplant in…in Kashmir?”

“Yes,” Jack confirmed, “but now he wants it back!” They were all thunderstruck by his words. “And, I’m afraid, he doesn’t have another to replace it. That’s why we agreed she was to go into hiding.”

“He is a madman,” roared the General.

“I will tear him apart…I will crush him with these,” added Grigor, making fists of his hands.

“Father, are you sure she will be safe?”

Jack looked at the son he’d only known for a short while, “What do you think? You worked for her.”

Aleksey grinned, “She can do it, if anyone can.”

There was a sudden knock at the door. Jack walked over to find three policemen standing there. “Yes?”

“We have been sent by the President to get you to the airport. Sloane left orders for you to be placed on a jet fighter plane. Time is getting short.”

Jack nodded, “Yes, I understand.” He patted his pocket to feel the ring in it. He knew it would do Arvin no good. The ring had been meant for one person: the Chosen One, his daughter. “Aleksey, you drive me. We’ll follow these policemen. You three wait for Aleksey to return.” He stared at Jan, Grigor and the General.


Sloane stood for a moment in front of the brig. He put a key in the lock and the hatch slid back into the bulkhead. Sydney was lying down her face to the bulkhead. When the hatch opened, she rolled over onto her feet. She was as tall as Arvin if not an inch or more so. Her eyes widened a little when she saw the gun in his hand.

“And where do you think I could escape to on a submarine?” She asked disgustedly.

“My dear Sydney, I have known you far too long to leave myself open for any kind of attack. You would deem it necessary to take me down and I don’t plan to let you do that.” He smiled an oily smirk. “Sit down.”

She did so. “I suppose I’m going to be wearing these for the length of the trip?”

“Yes.” He leaned against the bulkhead in front of her next to the washbasin. “Tell me, where is Irina?”

“I don’t honestly and truthfully know.” She answered. “I was in Moscow when your demands were made known to the world. I was taken prisoner before I think Mom and Dad knew about it.”

“They weren’t with you?”

She looked disgusted. “I’m a grown woman and I’m married. Why would I be hanging around them? We both have our own lives to live.”

“Where were they?”

“Africa. I’m not sure where.” This time she lied and he knew it.

“Do better than that.” He hit her across the mouth. “You know exactly where they were.”

Sydney pulled herself back into a sitting position. “I always knew you were a bastard,” she snarled.

“Where are they?”

“Damn it…in Africa. At least, that’s where they were headed when they left Moscow.” Sydney had deliberately refused to try to find her mother. She knew Jack was or had been in Moscow to pick up the Rambaldi Stone.

Sloane stared at her. Jack was in Moscow. However, he was being transported to the meeting spot Sloane had designated when he talked to the President of Russia. He also informed the White House that he would soon acquire another Bristow, but the hours were passing and Irina Derevko was still missing. Both Presidents assured him they were doing their best to locate the woman.

“I think you do know.” His eyes narrowed. His quest for world domination would soon be fulfilled. Although Emily would not be by his side, he would have the satisfaction of knowing he had fulfilled the Rambaldi plan. Still, it would do no good, to batter Sydney. She was well trained by Jack and SD-6 to withstand torture. He would not be successful. However, with the Rambaldi Stone in his hands, he would be able to see the future, just as he suspected Sydney had.

He said nothing more, but turned and left. Sydney went to the washbasin to clean the blood from her mouth. She leaned against the basin, head bowed, wondering what would happen next. Where were they heading? She had no idea where the submarine was taking her. The sub was making excellent time. She didn’t know the direction, but knew that it was running very deep and very silent.


Jack was in the rear seat behind the pilot. The fighter jet had fueled once over France and now was heading for Iceland. Jack had figured as much. The pilot had not said more than two or three words to him. He was intent on getting to the destination given to him before he took off with his passenger. He was bent over his map computer watching the coordinates rush toward the spot. They were at ten thousand feet and dropping. At eight thousand, the pilot pushed a button and the rear seat with Jack in it ejected. Moments later the chutes opened and Jack floated toward the Grimsvotn volcano located on the Vatnajokull glacier.

*** :reallyexcited:

wow, that's an unusual way to disembark. The submarine is such a great idea! Loved the chapter, thanks for the pm.

I love how the geography paints such a pretty landscape

I can see all of this happening to the characters

cool stuff lenafan!!

bren

CHAPTER 6
CROSSHAIRS

Agent Roberta Quinn and her fellow profiler, Dick Sorrentino, were in the conference room with their boss, Gail Sobieski. It was close to eight in the evening and they were going over case files trying to nail down the answers police departments from all over the country wanted from the FBI. Most of them had to do with the possibility of cases being serial murders. Most of them were not, but it was Gail’s duty to give them all a rational answer.

She glanced at her watch. “Eight. That’s enough for the day. Dick, I know you have a family, so get out of here.”

“Thanks, Gail.” She had told them they were on a first name basis during the crisis. He picked up his files.

“Leave them. I sort through and put the ones you need to work on your desk.”

He flashed her a big, warm smile. Grinned at Quinn and almost ran down the corridor to the elevator.

Roberta laughed, turning to her boss. “Well, do we get dinner?”

“Yes! Take those we decided on tonight and send off the answers. I have a few things to finish. I’ll pick you up at the front door.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably need a half hour.”


Thirty minutes later Roberta checked out at the desk and walked to the front of the J. Edgar Hoover Building. A ivory colored Mercedes, about ten years old, sat waiting at the curb. Gail was behind the wheel. She unlocked the door and waited a moment as Roberta drew her seat belt across and locked it.

“Do you know a reasonable place to eat?” asked Gail. “I’m not familiar with this city.”

“Sure. There is a steak house in one of the hotels. They’ll still be serving dinner.”

Minutes later the two women were shown to a booth. Each ordered a drink. Gail had iced vodka…Roberta had a glass of wine.

“Nostrovia,” said Gail, first raising the shot glass then tossing the vodka back.

“Cheers,” said Roberta. “What did you say?” She guessed what it might be.

“It’s a toast in Polish,” said Gail. “My parents emigrated from there and I picked up a bit of the language although I was born here.”

“I’d say you picked up more than a few words,” Roberta grinned.

“My father said that one must drink vodka cold and quick. So…” She smiled back.

The waiter returned and took their order. When he left Gail looked at Roberta, saying, “I see you have been to Europe with the big brass lately. The file didn’t say why.”

Roberta realized Gail had evidently gone over her file as well as Sorrentino’s she guessed. “Yes, they needed a profiler. I was working with the CIA on Sydney Bristow. She’s the daughter of Irina…”

“Yes I’m aware of that oddity. Imagine your mother a spy and assassin…what would you do if you were a CIA agent.”

The waiter brought them two salads. Roberta took a bite. “I’m not sure how I would handle it. I’m sure Sydney had problems, especially when she first met her.”

Gail smiled, “Yes, I’m sure she did. How about you Roberta, what would you do if she suddenly looked at you, held out her hand, and said—Hi, I’m your mother, Irina Derevko?” She held out her hand.

Roberta took it, knowing it was a test of some kind and responded, “Hi, Mom, it’s nice to meet you for the first time in my life. By the way, you’re under arrest for murder and treason.”

Gail laughed, “What…you don’t want the ten million dollars?”

“Well, that would be nice also,” said Roberta.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. The steaks were brought with steamed red potatoes. Both women were hungry. They devoured the food each with thoughts of her own. Finally, Gail put her fork and knife on the plate, finished. She reached for the cup of coffee the waiter had brought and sipped it, looking at Roberta who was also finished.

“I’ve been checking your files. Looks like you need your annual firearms qualification. I’m due also. You want to see if we can qualify together?”

“Sure. I’d like that. When?”

“Might as well get it over with, so how about tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call to see if we can get an appointment.”

They left and Gail drove Quinn home.

Next afternoon the two women with Dick Sorrentino left the office building for the gun range. Dick decided he needed to upgrade his qualification so since most of the agents were away, they could get it done without their fellow Fibbies kibitzing. Dick admitted he had a tough time, so the two women watched him. He just did make it and was delighted that he did not have to go thru gun training again.

Roberta took her place at the range and within minutes was making good scores. The gun master was pleased to pass her. Gail took her place, putting the goggles and ear covers over her ears. She fired six shots in rapid succession. The target came back showing six shots in the chest area.

“Damn, I’m rusty,” she said. Roberta had beaten her. Her bullets had been around the heart.

“Still that’s pretty good shooting.” Roberta said

The man in charge of the range looked at the target. “I’d say you passed, Miss Sobieski.”

“How about me trying a sniper rifle? I was pretty good when I trained.” She said. “I qualified for sniper.”

The gun master looked at her file. “Say, it shows you did. They didn’t put you out on the strike force, did they?”

“No…I’m a woman. However, I wanted to try. Of course, that was almost twenty years ago. What kind of rifle are they training with now?”

He pulled a rifle from a gun case. It had a super scope attached. “This is one of the newest.” He showed her its characteristics. “It’s a Tango – 51. We’re going to get them to all our offices for the strike forces. It’s a helluva rifle. The accuracy of it is remarkable, especially in the hands of an expert. We use standard Federal Gold Medal Match 168gr loads. It is very user friendly.”

“Okay, I’m sold.” She looked at the rifle, bolt action and the bullets he handed to her. They walked to the end of the firing range. He pointed out to the area where targets were set up.

“Prone or standing,” he asked, setting up a telescope so he could tell her how accurate she was shooting. Roberta and Dick stood back, watching. They looked at one another with questions on their faces.

“Prone, because I haven’t used one in a while.” She pulled the covers over her ears and made sure the goggles were on tight. She dropped down into a prone position and sighted through. “Let me try at 200 yards. I need one or two shots to get the scope on target.”

“Okay, fire when you’re ready.”

Gail pulled the trigger, ejected the cartridge, and fired again. She stood up and went to the telescope. Gunny was looked through it. “I’d say you need a small adjustment. Not bad shooting for a first time with this rifle.” He stepped back and let her look.

She nodded and returned to the firing position. Cradling the rifle onto her right shoulder, she adjusted the scope and looked, made another adjustment, and taking a deep breath, stilled herself pulling the trigger twice.

“Hey, darn…maybe you overcorrected.” Gunny couldn’t see either hole on the target.

Gail stood up and looked for herself. She smiled. “Look at the head.”

Gunny looked and said, “Hey, that’s terrific. You need to put five bullets into the target and I can qualify you.”

“Not necessary. I don’t plan to join the strike force team. I’m a little old for their work.”

“Too bad you can’t teach. That is impressive shooting with a rifle you are not familiar with, old or not.” He grinned at her.

She handed him the rifle. “How much does one of these cost?”

“About $3400.00 to the public. We get a reduction, but not much.” He shook her hand. “Glad to meet you. Come out again…get some practice in with the handgun. You looked a little rusty.”

“Maybe, if I have time.” She smiled and walked away with Roberta and Dick, both of whom were impressed.

Later that afternoon, the three met in the conference room to discuss some of the cases before them. Within two hours, Sobieski had helped them clear up fourteen presentations from various law enforcement agencies. Dick was assignment to notify them this time. Gail went back to her office above them.

Roberta was impressed by the rapidity they had finished the caseload. She stood looking out the window in her office thinking about Sydney Bristow. She had been in Sloane’s hands now for about 24 hours. Jack Bristow must be with Sloane also by now. According to reports that had been forwarded into the offices, Irina Derevko was still at large. They had only 24 more hours before Sloane did something terrible. She sighed and glanced at herself in the mirror. Christ! Her heart jumped. She now saw what she refused to see before…the view from this perspective was…she rubbed her eyes. She did look like Sydney Bristow, enough to be related.

“This can’t be true,” she said softly. Maybe Gail would have a different view. She pulled out the picture of Sydney she had in a file in her desk.

Minutes later, she was asking Gail’s secretary if she could see her. The woman smiled and used the intercom. She was told to enter. Roberta hesitated at the door for a moment and then walked into Gail’s office.

“What is it, Roberta?”

“I—I need your opinion.” She thrust Sydney’s picture at her. “When she talked to me in the restaurant in Moscow, she said we looked enough to be sisters. I didn’t believe her, but…but…”

“Now you not so sure?” Gail took the picture from her. “Well, you do have blue eyes and hers are dark like her mother’s.

Roberta felt relieved that someone else didn’t see any resemblance.

“Still you do look alike.” Gail said. “She’s very attractive and so are you. There are, now that you mention it, quite a few similarities.”

“I can’t be her sister. I know my mother and father.”

“Well, there is a rumor going around that somewhere in the world we each have a double. Maybe she is yours…and vice versa.”

Roberta sank into the chair behind her. “I’m adopted.”

Sobieski gazed at her, “So…”

“It could be true,” she whispered, “and I turned her over to Arvin Sloane.” Suddenly for no reason she could think of, Roberta felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I…oh…what’s wrong with me…it can’t be true, because that would mean Irina Derevko…”

“…is your mother?”

“I think I’m being over-imaginative. That time of the month, you know.”

Gail nodded, “Suppose you go home, eat, and take a hot bath. You may have a different perspective when you wake up in the morning.”

“Yes…well…maybe, but I’d hate to think I turned my…”

“Stop,” snapped Gail. “You will drive yourself crazy. There is one way you can find out the truth.” She studied the young agent.

“How?” Roberta was confused for the moment and then she said, “Of course, DNA. Sydney would be in the system because of her CIA status.”

Gail nodded. “Are you game?”

Roberta felt a shiver run through her body. It would mean more than that. She tried not to think about it, but there was a sudden need in her to disprove Sydney’s allegations.

***

I love the original characters

and two chaps a week

awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER 7
TOGETHER

Jack floated down over the Grimsvotn volcano located on the Vatnajokull glacier. Then he was past the steaming cauldron. He tugged at the shroud lines, moving them to a place where he could land as safe as possible on the glacier. He removed the parachute and looked around him. It was cold and windy. According to the orders sent by Arvin, he had to make his way down to the coast where they would pick him up.

He hefted the small bag with a change of clothes in them over his shoulder and started making his way down toward the coast. He was given orders via the pilot that was what he was supposed to do. Jack put on a pair of sunglasses and began to pick his way among rocks and crevasses. He had no idea how long it would take. He wondered what Arvin was planning. How was he going to melt the ice caps or was that a smoke screen? What he would really do was something different.

Jack paused a moment as his mind sifted what little information he had. He had passed over the Grimsvotn volcano and landed near the edge of the glacier. He didn’t have that far to go, but it was rugged going. He stopped when he heard a motor. “What the devil?”
He swung around and saw a snowmobile heading his way. “Arvin?” He didn’t think so, but he waited to see what happened.

“Hey, man, what you do out on these glacier without protection.” The man had a parka on as well as heavy boots lined in fur. He was wearing dark goggles..

“I was hiking and lost my way and am trying to get to the road.”

“Hop on and I’ll take you as far as the road. It’s off the glacier a couple of miles from here. You never would find the road without some help. Lucky, I spotted you.”

Jack grinned, “My name is Jack.” He climbed onto the mobile. There was a small sled behind him. “What’s yours?”

“Thor,” the other responded. He let out the clutch and the machine took off.

Twenty minutes later, Thor had them off the glacier. He slowed. “The road is a mile or so. It won’t be long.”

He was pleased to get the ride. He had to get to Arvin fast. Irina was in hiding and the world was running out of time. He had to make it work…to get the time. They made it in less than ten minutes. Jack got off and looked around. He turned back to Thor, who was holding a gun.

“Hey,” Jack stepped back.

“It’s okay Bristow. I was the one you were expecting. Here,” he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, “put on these and we’ll get going. We still have a way to go.”

Jack did as he was told and sat behind the man. They certainly couldn’t continue along the road. Someone would see them. Thor turned the vehicle and they left the road entirely dropping swiftly toward the ocean, which Jack could see now. Thirty minutes later, Thor pulled up. They were close to the water’s edge.

“Get off and walk ten paces in front of me.” Thor held the gun on him. Jack followed orders.

Thor pulled out a walkie-talkie and made contact. “I have him. Yes, he was alone…what next?” He listened. “Okay, will do.” He glanced at the sun, which was behind him and slowly disappearing over the mountains in the west. He knew it would be very dark soon.

Jack sat down on the ground. There was no snow at this point and he wasn’t going to stand if he didn’t know how much longer it would be. He watched Thor take a pair of binoculars out of the saddlebag he had. Interestingly he pointed them out toward the ocean. Jack thought about where Arvin could be. He saw no ships near by and no fishing boat either. There was no airstrip nearby and a helicopter was restrictive in that he would have to land somewhere and someone in the radar station would spot it.

Then he saw it. A wake of a periscope about five hundred yard off shore. He never would have spotted it if the dying light hadn’t caught the lens in the scope. “Submarine. I’ll be damned,” Jack thought. “Is he planning to go under the ice?”

It was dark, cold, and black. Jack saw nothing. Thor straightened, looking out to the ocean. He was wearing night glasses. “Okay, Bristow, stand up.”

Jack pushed himself into a standing position, peering out, but seeing nothing. Thor took him by the arm and they walked to the edge of the water. Jack heard the lapping water and a soft voice. “Here.”

The bigger man pushed him over a few more feet. Someone grabbed his arm and he stepped into a rubber dinghy. Moments later, they were going back into deep water. Jack kept looking, but could not see anything. He decided to wait.

Ten minutes went by and suddenly the dinghy hit something. Jack looked up and saw the barest of outlines. IT was a submarine—and an nuclear one at that! Hands reached down and pulled him up out of the boat onto a narrow ladder. He climbed blindly onto the deck. He was ushered to the conning tower and then down into the control room. When he stepped down, he was face to face with Arvin Sloane, a former friend, and now a mad man. Jack could see the madness in his eyes.

“Hello, Arvin.”

“Where is Irina?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack quietly and without a hint of antagonism. “She said it was better if we split up.”

Arvin’s eyes glittered, “You’re lying.”

“No, Arvin, I’m not. I don’t know where she is. She seems intent on keeping her heart in is current place.”

Sloane lashed out, catching Jack on the jaw. Jack fell to one knee. Sloane kicked him and Jack fell backward onto the deck, half out. Sloane aimed another kick, striking Jack in the ribs.

“You’re lying, I know you are,” he screamed. “I want Irina Derevko, or I’ll—I’ll kill Sydney right now.”

“Not if you want the Stone,” Jack gasped. “She knows how it works.”

Sloane stopped, gasping to regain his composure. He motioned to the Captain. “Have one of the men take him to the brig.”

“You want them together?”

“I doubt they can do anything, but talk. Just tell your men to be careful.”

Two seamen came over and picked up Jack who was holding his chest. They stopped at a hatch and a key opened it up. Sydney was sitting on the bunk when they shoved Jack into the room.

“Dad!” Sydney jumped down and helped him to his feet. “What…what happened?”

“Arvin was upset that Irina wasn’t with me.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know and that’s the truth.”

Sydney stepped over to the basin and took the only cloth, dampened it and cleaned his face. He told her quietly what happened and what they had to do to get Arvin to extend the time. Irina would not be found in forty-eight hours.

“He plans to blow up volcanoes along the Rim of Fire which could mean from South America to the Aleutians. The only way he can cause havoc of huge proportions is to use atom bombs.”

“Oh my God that son of a b*tch. He could kill hundreds of thousands of people.”

“He’s gone crazy,” whispered Jack.

“I know that already. The CIA did not have their priorities right when they let him loose.”

She stood and stepped back to the basin to wash the blood off the cloth. “What are we going to do?”

“We must get him to extend the deadline…every hour and day we can get, will help the authorities to locate the triggering devices.” He tried to sit up, grimacing with pain as the cracked ribs caused him to breathe shallowly. “I can’t yell. See if you can get someone’s attention.”

“I’ll try, but,” she looked around the room, “the walls are pretty thick.”

“Just try. We have to get him to give authorities more time to find Irina. I suspect she is someplace they least expect her to be.” Jack knew he was unable to yell. Breathing hurt.

Sydney started yelling and screaming, pounding on the cell door. It was five minutes or more before someone came to see what was the matter. She told him that they wanted to see Mr. Sloane.

A few minutes later, Sloane appeared stone-faced and cold. “What is it?”

Jack looked up at him. “I thought you wanted the stone?”

Sloane stared and then snarled, “Give it to me.”

“What do you think you are going to get from it,” asked Jack, fishing in his pocket. He withdrew his hand and opened it to reveal the ring Sydney had been given by the old jeweler years ago. The ring had showed her things that were happening or about to happen.

“Whatever Sydney did,” was the answer. He took the ring from Jack.

Sydney stood with her back to the wall facing the door. “I don’t want to know the future anymore. It can be terrifying.”

Sloane stared down into the ring’s surface. “I don’t see anything.”

“Of course not,” commented Sydney. “You need training.”

“Will I see Irina?”

“You don’t know where she is. You have to focus on that and no one knows where she has gone.”

“The world will pay if they don’t find her and they don’t have much time left,” he glanced at his watch.

“You have to give them more time. Irina is quite good at hiding herself.” Jack’s voice was dry and matter-of-fact. He could recall not even knowing she was still alive after her arranged death in 1981.

“Why didn’t she tell you,” Sloane asked, turning the ring over in his fingers, surprised by the size and clarity of the diamond.

“I told her not too!” Jack took a deep breath. “Look, you have to give the law enforcement people time. The world is a very big place. She can disappear into thousands of cities, countries. The woman is a chameleon.”

Sloane turned and left without saying anything.

“Dad, do you think he’ll extend the deadline?” Sydney asked. She stood in front of him.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. If he wants to use the Stone, he’s going to tell you to train him. You must do it.” Jack was aware they were being videotaped with sound. He had to choose his words carefully. “…and, yes, I think he will extend the deadline. Your mother will do almost anything to stay out of his hands.”

“Do you know?”

“I have not the slightest idea where she is now.” Jack answered truthfully. “She could be anywhere.”

*** :unsure:

Great update, I hope we'll see more of Irina soon! :P

Excellent chapters. They were well written. I can't wait to read more.

Thanks for the pm.

CHAPTER 8
DNA

The FBI’s Forensic Science Research and Training Center was located on the FBI campus. It had a three story building all itself. It was here that DNA records, labs, and teaching centers were located. All FBI students were trained here in the processes most used on an everyday basis: fingerprinting, paint identification, blood work and, of course, the number one identification process, DNA typing.

Gail walked beside Roberta down the hall to the central DNA lab on the second floor. They entered to find the room fully staffed and everyone busy working. A technician saw them at the reception. He stopped. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, if there’s a free computer with access to DNA files, I can access it and get the answer without bothering anyone here.”

“Sure,” he peered at the badge she wore around her neck, “Agent Sobieski.” He pointed to a small desktop PC at a desk next to the reception. “You can use that one.”

Gail nodded, and followed by Roberta, walked to it. The technician had disappeared.

She began typing in a request for the DNA result on file for Sydney Anne Bristow. There was a long pause. Then the result showed up on the screen before her. She turned on the printer and typed a request for a printout. She heard the printer react and then requested the computer to find similar DNA results in a familial category. Again, there was an even longer pause. Then the screen divided itself into four sections, each with a DNA graph. Roberta caught her breath. Four! She was afraid to look and…didn’t, as the printer spit out four more pieces of paper with graphs on them.

“Good lord,” whispered Gail. She moved out of the DNA files and shut down the computer. Then taking a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped the key pads clean. She picked up the printouts and took Roberta’s arm. “I’ve got the information. Let’s leave now.”

They were leaving the building when they heard sirens. Gail, gripping Roberta’s arm like a vise, walked swiftly down a path between two other buildings before turning toward her office. She did not like sirens going off in places she had just vacated.

“What’s wrong,” said Roberta, finally finding her voice.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling you and I better not return to the office.” She knew that certain files had been tagged and if accessed would set off an alarm. “Damn!”

“What—what are you talking about?”

“I believe these two printouts were the ones.” She handed the two top sheets. “We’re going to take my car.”

Roberta stared at the top two sheets: Irina Derevko and Julian Sark. “I don’t believe it. That’s crazy!”

“Hurry,” Gail snapped. She pulled out her cell and dialed the office. “Dick Sorrentino, please.” She listened. “Dick, sorry to do this to you, but Roberta is sick to her stomach. I’m taking her to the infirmary…Yes, I’ll tell her…I call as soon as I know something.”

She opened the Mercedes and shoved Roberta into the front seat, “We have to get out of the gate before they shut this place down.”

The Mercedes slowed at the gate. The guard looked at the sticker on her window and waved her through. Gail sighed. If he had stopped her and asked for identification papers it would be awkward. She wanted to get Roberta Quinn out of the facility as fast as possible. She had not accessed the files in her name, but Quinn’s. They would want to know why Roberta Quinn wanted that particular information.

Roberta sat quietly in the seat next to Gail staring at the pictures of the DNA printouts. She could not believe it. She was shaking with the terrible knowledge she was related to the most infamous Russian spy ever to escape American justice. She was related to Sydney Bristow and…and Julian Sark? That meaning escaped her for the moment. How could she be related? Finally, she looked at the fourth printout…Jack Bristow, a brilliant CIA field agent who, when he was young, married a woman he thought was an American. They had a child…Sydney!

Tears began making their way out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. She sobbed, leaning her head against the window. Gail glanced at her a couple of times, but let her cry. It had to be the most terrible blow to find out who your real family was and that they were infamous.

She sped through the countryside. She would be in Triangle soon and was heading north to Arlington. She did not know how long she would have before an all-points bulletin would be out on Roberta and the car or even if they would suspect Gail Sobieski of being with the young profiler. She kept slightly above the speed limit and was soon passing Dale City. They were currently on I-95, but had to go to I-495 in order to get to the airport.

Gail parked at the airport lot. So far, so good. Sometimes the ‘boys’ at the headquarters were a little slow on the uptake.

“Where are we going,” asked Roberta.

“To Colorado. I think your parents need to answer some questions.”

“What? Wait…we have to go back. I—I can just leave.” Roberta was trying to regain some sort of order in her life that had turned topsy- turvey in just minutes.

“Yes you can leave. You do know what those papers indicate?”

Roberta shuddered. “It’s impossible. I can’t be related to—to them…I can’t…” She was beginning to break down again.

Gail stopped. They were still in the parking lot and the terminals were ahead. “Stop it. You are in great danger. When those DNA reports came out of the printer, the computer assimilated everything and it knew then you were related to Irina Derevko, Sydney, Jack, and Sark!” She shook her young companion. “Irina Derevko is a terrorist and killer, who has not set foot on American soil for years. Sydney Bristow is married to a Russian Special Forces Major and she was a former CIA agent. Jack Bristow is married to Irina Derevko. He’s retired from the CIA. Julian Sark is a known criminal. He is Jack and Irina’s son.

“These four people are your real family and the FBI is going to want to talk to you. They will think you know where Irina is and she is the most wanted, most hunted woman on this planet! What’s worse,” she stared into Roberta’s eyes. “They will think you are a spy, planted in the FBI to steal secrets. You do not want to be caught up in this now. We have to find out from your adoptive parents where you came from and when they adopted you.”

Roberta knew she was right. She had to get answers and answers fast; otherwise, her career in the FBI would be gone. She followed Gail across the street and into the large bustling terminal. Gail walked up to the line standing in front of the United Airlines travel desk. It was not long this time of day. She glanced at the schedule. They had perhaps an hour before the plane took off.

Gail paid cash and the two women dashed for security. There, they passed through without a problem, since they had no baggage, and Gail showed them her FBI badge. She knew she would not get away with it later. They were the last two passengers on board the plane.

The trip took approximately four hours, but when they landed, it was only an hour and a half later by Mountain Time. Outside the exit, Gail hailed a cab and had him drive her to an address Roberta was not familiar with in the city. Gail told her to wait while she went inside. She was out minutes later.

The cab pulled up to the house. Gail studied it for a moment and then paid the driver. Roberta followed almost reluctantly. She was afraid to learn the truth. It was just too terrible to face her parents who had raised her…at least as far back as she could remember.


Meanwhile, the FBI had been slow to react. It quickly learned who had accessed the DNA files. The report came back to the technician who had turned the computer over to the grey haired woman and her younger companion. Gail Sobieski was identified as the temporary director of BSU. He read it and picked up the phone.

“We have a report on files accessed by Roberta Quinn on DNA tests on file. Yes, I have them in my hands now. You are not going to believe this, but Quinn is related, definitely related, to Irina Derevko. What? Yes, and…” he scanned the report, “…she must be a very close relative, most likely a daughter.”

He listened and then hung up. He dialed a number and turned to the fax machine behind him. Placing the graphs into the machine, he pushed the button to get them sent. This was the most excitement he’d had for months. Imagine, an FBI agent, the daughter of the most hunted woman on earth.

Fifteen minutes later, the agents still on the campus headed for the BSU building. That was where Quinn and Sobieski worked. They were armed and padded with Kevlar to prevent their being seriously wounded. One of the agents was Gunny, who ran the firing ranges.

“Hell, those women were on the range with me earlier this afternoon.” He was in the elevator going to the third floor. “They both passed the qualifying. The older one was sniper trained. She could have passed that—her marksmanship was that good.”

“Then I guess we’d better be nice,” said his fellow agent.

The doors opened and they hurried toward Sobieski’s office. Her secretary was shocked when she saw the armed agents.

“Is Sobieski in her office?”

“No, she called to say she was taking Quinn to the infirmary. She didn’t know when they would be back.”

Gunny and the other agent contacted their leader on the Comlink and reported what they learned.

Downstairs in the profilers’ offices, a squad of men was searching every room and office making sure, Quinn had not slipped back. They were in her small cubicle when Vaughn strode up, looking at them in surprise.

“Hey, what’s up,” he asked, showing his CIA badge.

“What do you want with Quinn?” Said Johnson, the leader of the group.

“I was going to take her out to dinner.”

“That’s nice,” commented the fibbie with a wry tone to his voice.

Vaughn frowned, “you have some problem with that?”

“Yeah, the woman is wanted by us. She is the daughter of Irina Derevko.”

Vaughn gaped at him. “You are kidding, aren’t you?”

“In a pig’s eye, I am.” The agent was not smiling.

Vaughn shook his head, “I thought there was something familiar about her…she looks like Sydney, except for the blue eyes.” He pulled out his cell. “I’m calling my boss at Langley. They will definitely want to know about this.”

*** :angry:

CHAPTER 9
TRANSFER

Gail looked at the house. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was very late in the afternoon. It was getting chilly. Denver’s altitude was approximately five thousand feet and it was darkening fast. It had only been a few hours ago they were in Virginia where it was warm.

“Do your parents work?”

Roberta nodded. “Yes, but—but,” she looked at the house, “Mother should be home by now. Dad could be on his way.”

“Well, perhaps they met for dinner.”

Gail started up the walk. Roberta followed. There were five steps leading up to the open porch. The home was old, but it was comfortable. Gail looked around before pushing the doorbell. The lawn needed mowing, but there were roses on either side the walk. Plants indigenous to the altitude were planted in flowerbeds on either side of the steps. There was a porch swing. It did, look a little worse for wear in the fading light. It was weatherworn, she thought.

She pushed the doorbell, but no answer. She knew Roberta was still dealing with issues and didn’t seem to be able to cope. Gail moved to the large window on her right. The shade was pulled down, but there was about three inches open. She bent over and peered through the glass. She said nothing, but frowned.

Standing erect, Gail turned to her companion. “Do you have house keys?”

“Yes.” Roberta fumbled in her purse and finding a set of keys, picking the one that would open the door.

Gail allowed her to enter first. She wanted to see what the reaction would be. Roberta tried to flip on the lights. They didn’t come on as Gail expected. There was just enough light for both women to see the living room on one side and the dining room on the other were empty.

“What the hell,” cried Roberta, confused?

“They seemed to have moved.”

“But—but I talked to them Friday. I always call them then. They didn’t say anything about moving.”

“Why don’t you check the bedrooms and I’ll look at the kitchen.”

Roberta disappeared down the hall. Gail walked to the kitchen. It was now getting very dark. She fished in her purse for a small pen-like flashlight. She moved it about the kitchen and instantly saw the phone with the attachment on it. She moved the light over the phone.

“What did you find,” asked Roberta. “The rooms are empty. All my things are gone. I—I don’t understand?”

“Hummm,” Gail said thoughtfully trying to choose her next few words carefully. “I found this phone. It is still working.”

“What?” Roberta moved next to her and examined the phone. “What is this attachment?”

Gail said, “Transfer equipment. You phone home and this machine transfers your call to another number. Tell me, when you call, do you sense there’s a pause…like maybe four or five seconds?”

Roberta frowned, “Yes, but I just thought it had to do with the system here in Denver.”

“Your calls were being transferred from here to another number.”

“Where?”

“I think we should find out.”

“How?”

“You have your cell phone?”

“Yes,” Roberta fished in her purse and pulled out the cell phone issued to her by the FBI.

Gail winced. They would have to leave it. There was probably a trace on it already, but if not, there soon would be. “Phone here.”

Roberta punched in the auto-dial number for her parents. They both jumped slightly as the phone rang. “What should I say?”

“Tell them you’re coming home for a few days.”

There was the significant delay, but this time it was nearly ten seconds. Gail was cognizant that it probably meant overseas. She motioned to Roberta to wait while she picked up the handset on the phone in front of them. She wanted to listen to what was said.

“Hello, Mother,” said Roberta.

“Roberta! It’s not Friday. Is there something wrong?”

“I’ve been assigned to Denver. I’m coming home.”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid that’s not a good idea. Your father and I are about to leave a trip.”

“Oh no,” wailed Roberta.

“I thought the FBI was busy trying to find that awful woman, Irina Derevko. Shouldn’t you be working on that?”

“Yes, but they are spreading the Behavioral Sciences group to different offices to help. I’ve been assigned to Denver.”

Gail imagined what was going on at the other end of the line. There was a pause as though ‘mother’ had her hand over the mouthpiece and was talking to someone at her end.

“Tchaikovsky’s 20th Symphony.” Mother’s voice was strong, insistent.

Roberta blinked, shuddered, and almost dropped the phone. Gail saw her fight back initial confusion. “Yes,” and the answer was cold, precise, but submissive.

“Go to Los Angeles instead of home. You have no home. Go to the Biltmore Hotel and ask for Suite 401. Wait there for your assignment. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” Roberta broke the connection. She looked at Gail strangely. “Who are you?”

Gail stared at her for a couple of seconds and then gave an answer she thought would keep her safe. “Your handler.”

“Good, glad to meet you.” She was very matter-of-fact. “So you work for the FBI too!”

“I was assigned there to help you if there was trouble.”

Roberta looked slightly confused. “What trouble?”

“We have to leave.” Gail said. “Do you have a garage and a car?” She was mentally hoping it was there. She didn’t want to go further with the discussion. They had to get out of Denver now.

“Yes, I think so, unless they took it.”

“I doubt they would do that if you own the car. They can’t sell it.”

“This way.” Roberta turned and walked to the back door, through a small porch, which was empty of the refrigerator, washing machine, and dryer. She unlocked the backdoor and went down a few steps, Gail following.

She opened the garage door and there was indeed a car inside. It was a black mini-Cooper. “You have the keys?”

Roberta walked to a cupboard next to the car. She opened it and found a jar. She dumped out the nails and screws. There was a car key in the midst of the items. She turned with it in her hand. “Got it.”

“Let’s leave now. I’m not at all sure that the FBI isn’t already on its way here.”

“Why?”

“Your family.”

“They left home already,” she said, putting the key into the ignition.

Gail realized that Roberta’s past and her training had not quite caught up to her. She would have to wait for it to jell in her mind. “Let’s hurry.” Gail wondered where this was going to end up.

Roberta backed out of the garage and turned right out of the alley. She drove to a freeway close by. “I’ve got to get to Los Angeles.”

“I know,” Gail looked in her purse. She wondered how they were going to get there before the fibbies or any other law enforcement caught up with them. Roberta had been working for the FBI for two years and had two years training prior to that. “Where is the nearest small airport?”

“North, I think, outside of Boulder.”

“Can we get there from this freeway?”

“Yes!”

“Then get us there fast. We must leave the area as soon as possible.” Gail tightened her seat belt. This day was proving to be the most interesting one of her career in intelligence.

An hour later, Roberta pulled into the airport. It was a small plane airport. Gail looked around. There were all kinds of ads for renting planes. She wanted something fast that could land in Van Nuys. That meant a small private jet. Gail pointed to a parking space. It was perfect. They tucked the car away behind some lumber that had been unloaded and left near the entrance to one of the buildings. The Mini-Cooper fit in the small area and no one would see it without walking around the pile of lumber.

“Get out.” Gail ordered.

The two walked into the closest building to find several small travel desks, each with a name over it. Gail walked to one that said Great East Jet Inc. There was an older woman behind it. “Evening,” she said pleasantly.

“Hello, I’m interested in hiring a jet to take me to LA tonight. I have a meeting I have to be to in the morning.”

“We can do that. Do you have a thousand dollars? That’s fare for the two of you.”

“That’s steep,” said Gail.

“I know, but the cost of jet fuel has risen more than four hundred percent. We can’t fly without it.” She was pleasant while giving her answer.

“Do you take credit cards? I use them for all my business expenses.”

“As long as it is good, we do.”

Gail knew this was the last time she could use this card. She could only hope the FBI was not tracking her cards. They would be tracking Roberta, but not her—yet. Once they knew she was still with Roberta, perhaps helping her, they would put out an all points on her.


They arrived at the hotel five hours later and checked into the suite designated. It was reserved. Roberta paid for it. Gail had dropped the card in the waiting room at the Van Nuys airport. She hoped someone would use it, thus sending the FBI off on a wild goose chase for a short time.

The two women entered the room and Gail who seemed to have a lot of cash, tipped the bellhop. Gail walked around the room, checking the tables, lights—anything that could hide a miniature microphone. Whoever was going to meet them might be double-checking Roberta and her contact. The room was clean. That meant the contact would be a superior to any handler.

“We have to be careful,” said Gail. “I’m going into the other room to wait. I know you’re tired, but I know the supervisor is coming. He is not to know you and I have made contact. Understand?”

“Why?”

“We have a relationship. It could be dangerous to the proposed outcome.” Gail smiled. “Trust me, Roberta, I’ve had more experience than you.”

The young woman nodded.

“I will be listening. You are my responsibility. So anything I do will always be in your best interests.”

Roberta was soon to learn how far her handler would go to protect her.

***
:angry:

Well that was strange, and unexpected. I'm dying to see where it goes. :)

and you just amped it all up by several watts

this mystery is very intresting to follow 'lemme tell ya'

I love the origianl characters you add to the "cast"

bren

CHAPTER 10
HEART TO HEART

Gail sat in the guest chair near the connecting door. She did not know when Roberta’s supervisor would arrive, but it would be, she thought, within the hour of their taking the room. She had given Roberta the money to pay for the room in advance in case they had to leave. She would have to get some more money and soon. ATMs were open 24 hours and it would be easy.

She heard Roberta humming. She was probably nervous about all of this day’s events. Gail smiled briefly. It was rather disconcerting to find out you were related to the Bristows and that you were a double agent of some kind, working for someone you had no contact with for several years.

Gail heard a soft tapping on the door to the sitting room. She stood up and gave Roberta a thumbs up sign, indicating she was her back up. She herself had no idea who was on the other side of the door. She closed hers until there was the barest slit showing. Roberta was at the door, opening it.

“Yes,” she said.

“Quinn? I’m your supervisor.” A man about seventy stood looking at her. He was six two, had snow-white hair, and a craggy, but distinctive handsome face. His dark eyes stared at her in approval. “You look like your mother!”

Roberta gasped. “My mother?”

He could see her confusion. “May I?” He walked into the room. Roberta shut the door and followed. He sat on the sofa and indicated she should sit next to him. “Of course, Irina Derevko is your mother, but then you have just found out, haven’t you?”

Roberta blinked at him. “Who are you?”

“Your supervisor, Gerard Cuvee. Your mother knew me quite well. I was her supervisor in the KGB when she was sent here to the U.S. to marry your father.”

The young woman still was having trouble assimilating everything. Although very intelligent, Roberta’s confusion was evident.

Cuvee put his hand on her thigh. “Come, come, Roberta, just accept it. You are the daughter of one of my most brilliant pupils. She seduced your father, stole vital information from the CIA while married to him, and escaped to live and give birth to you and your brother.” He leaned in close, staring into her eyes. “We were lovers for awhile when she returned.” He put his left hand under her chin, cupping it gently and smiled. “How good are you in bed? Are you like your mother…a tigress in heat?”

Roberta was shocked. No man had talked to her in this manner. What was he doing? If he was her supervisor, why was he acting this way? “I—I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“Everything about you is my business,” he said pleasantly. He ran his hand up her inner thigh. “You will do anything I tell you.” His voice was hypnotic.

She slowly nodded, caught in the training she received when so very young. ‘Never question your supervisor or your handler.’ Roberta’s eyes closed for the moment. Then she felt him push her back onto the sofa. His hands were at her slacks and his lips on hers. It was automatic, her response.

“No,” she cried, struggling to get out of his grasp. “I—I don’t know you.”

He slapped her. “Be quiet!”

She brought up her hands to push him away. “Get off.”

He leaned back, took aim, and hit her as hard as he could. Roberta, rolling over the edge of the sofa, fell to the floor. She struck her head against the coffee table and lost consciousness. Gerard looked at her for a moment. He would teach her a lesson about obedience. He bent down and reached for the zipper on her pants.

“Don’t touch her.”

Gerard froze. He felt the barrel of a gun in his ear. He also recognized the voice. That was impossible.

“Stand up and make no sudden move or this gun will go off. We’re going to have a heart to heart talk.”

He kept his hands at shoulder level and slowly did as he was told. “Irina?”

She moved to face him. His eyes registered some surprise. “Hello, Gerard. Who are you working for these days?”

“SVR.”

“No, I think not.” The gun was plastic, but held a lethal charge. She smiled. “I can’t believe you have sunk this low. Rape was not a part of our training.”

“Your daughter needed to be taught respect.” He grumbled. “Can I put my hands down?”

“No. Who do you work for, Gerard?” Her eyes glittered as she stared at him. The gun did not waver. Her voice was calm, steady, and cold.

Gerard Cuvee had been her supervisor years ago. He had taken part in her re-education process at Kashmir. He had since learned to his discomfort that Irina Derevko had out-smarted her trainers. She had done everything they asked her to do, including the killing of the American spy. She was pregnant and with the help of her father, left the prison intact. She gave birth a month later.

It had taken years, but she re-connected with her husband whom she had never divorced and her daughter, both working for the CIA. He met her again in Kashmir when the three were sent to recover those nuclear warheads he’d use to open a Rambaldi artifact, one that held a blooming flower, still alive after hundreds of years in its container. He had kissed her a few times and he had believed she was going to be his once again. He was wrong.

The low voice intruded into his thoughts once more. “Whose idea was it to take my child from me?”

He saw her hand grip the gun so tight her knuckles turned white. “KGB decided.”

“Did they?” She smirked. “Someone had to have the idea? Who was it?” She studied his face and eyes. “You were the one, weren’t you?”

“No, no, it was Andropov!” He blurted. “He ordered it. We were to take the second child and tell you it was still born.”

She glared at him. “You gave them the idea…ever the supervisor--always find ways to increase job security.” She wanted to hit him and he saw it.

“Don’t…”

She snorted in disgust. “Gerard, you work for the Covenant now, don’t you.”

He smiled, “Irina…they would make you a full partner. Join us. With your knowledge and contacts around the world you would be our biggest asset.”

She laughed. “The Covenant would be bigger than most governments?”

He felt he was making progress. “We would control everything.”

“Not if the world is destroyed. Arvin Sloane is mad.”

“He’s extended the deadline. The governments have been given another forty-eight hours to find you. He also added to the reward for your capture, alive.”

“I would imagine he did,” she didn’t smile. “How much?”

“Ten million.”

“Is it enough to tempt you, Gerard?” She shot him.

He stared at her in shock. It was expected, but not fully. He had hoped to outsmart her…to take control before she pulled the trigger.

Gail Sobieski watched Cuvee fall back onto the couch. He was dead. She glanced at Roberta who was still unconscious. She had very little time, but she had to make use of every minute. She bent over Gerard. There was not much blood. She was pleased. She pulled him off the sofa and went to his head. She put both hands under his armpits and dragged him easily to the door.

“You’ve lost weight,” she muttered and was thankful.

In the hallway, she saw the door she had noticed on their way to the room. It was a housekeeping room. She pulled at the doorknob, balancing Cuvee’s body against her thigh. The knob turned. She was in luck. Someone on the housekeeping staff had left the door unlocked. She opened it and pulled Cuvee inside. Dropping him, she shut the door after turning on the light. The room was about eight by ten. There were shelves of towels and room supplies on either side.

Gail walked to the end of the room. There was a handle about four feet from the floor. She pulled it open and saw what she expected…laundry chute, which led to the basement. Using a stool, she propped open the door. Studying the chute and Cuvee, she ascertained he would fit nicely. She pulled him up and turning him, shoved him forward headfirst into the chute. He disappeared. Since he had lost very little blood, she doubted anyone would be able to tell from what floor he had fallen. She closed the chute door and, putting the stool back, left the small room.

As she stepped into the hall, she checked in both directions. There was no one. She looked at her watch; it was two-thirty in the morning. No one would be up at this time. Then she saw the marks on the rug. Obvious drag marks. She turned and reached for a towel. Bending over she moved swiftly, using the towel, erasing the heel marks of Gerard Cuvee. Gail entered Suite 401 and once inside, she removed the rest of the marks. Roberta was still out. Gail picked her up and put her on the sofa.

*** -_-

Jesus! I'm still shuddering from Cuvee's actions. Brr, actually I'm feeling some nausea.
Yuck, thankfully, 'she' was there... :)

CHAPTER 11
THE DEAL

Jack sat close to Sydney. “Can you do it?”

“Yes, but I doubt he’ll see anything of value.”

“Make him believe.”

“I can try,” she said quietly. “He has to ask for it. We’ve already told him I would train him.”

Just then, the key turned in the hatch and the door opened. Two guards stood in front of it. One motioned to Sydney, “You, the boss wants you now.”

“Yeah,” Sydney stood as did Jack. He hugged her. “Be careful.”

“Do my best, Dad.” She hugged him back, turned, and walked to the doorway. The two guards stood to one side, let her through, and then locked the door.

Jack settled back to wait.

They marched Sydney to Sloane’s compartment. He was waiting for her, a sly, anticipating look on his face. It was as if he wasn’t sure she could come through for him and he was going to hold back his word, although that didn’t seem to be much.

“Have they found Mom?” Sydney asked.

“No, but I believe by now every man, woman and child are looking for her. She won’t get away. Sit down.”

Sydney sat, looking at him curiously. “Why are you so bent on killing my mother?”

“I didn’t say I was going to kill her!” He snapped, but lying. He sat next to her and brought out the Rambaldi Stone. “Teach me how it works.”

“Are you going to extend the deadline?” She made no move to hold the ring.

“Only if I…”

Sydney grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, within two inches of her face. It had been so sudden Sloane was caught off guard. “Listen, you bastard, you extend the deadline now. The stone might show you something you were not anticipating.”

The viciousness in her voice startled him. “Very well, forty eight hours.”

“From now?”

“Yes.”

“Make the announcement to the US Government and they will pass it on to the rest of the world.” Her voice was cold. “NOW!” She held the ring and there seemed to be a glow emanating from it.

Hypnotized by it, Sloane hit the intercom. “Captain, notify Washington DC I’ve extended the deadline to find Irina Derevko by another forty-eight hours from now.”

“Yes sir. Does the reward stay the same?”

Sloane smirked, glancing sideways at Sydney, “No, up it to twenty million…alive!”
Sloane disconnected. “The power of ring…”

Sydney held it. “You have to focus…every thought has to be wiped from your mind.”

**

In Langley at CIA headquarters there was panic. Reports were coming in from Quantico faster than some agents could handle. Agent Roberta Quinn was missing. She was last seen at the lab with another agent, Gail Sobieski. Sobieski had accessed the DNA files, comparing Roberta Quinn’s with the CODIS files. The request was flagged when the file for Quinn matched four others: the Jonathan Donahue Bristow family, which included Irina Derevko, his wife, and Julian Sark, now known as Aleksey Bristow.

The two women had left the building and disappeared when the lab’s alarm caught the DNA match. They had not been seen since. Because there was a lack of agents on duty, they evidently left the Academy and Quantico without being stopped. Guards at the gate stated a car had gone through it, but because it had the special ID sticker, they let it through.

They searched Quinn’s apartment, but nothing incriminating was found and she was not there. They then moved to Sobieski’s apartment, but it too was empty of life. Clothes, personal items, and furniture were confiscated and taken to the labs along with those of Quinn’s.

At the J. Edgar Hoover building, headquarters of the FBI, information began to come in little by little. They discovered Quinn had purchased a ticket to Denver and that correlated with her home address. She was born and raised in Denver according to her file.

A phone call to the Agent-in-Charge of the Denver office was made. He was ordered to search the home of her parents. Unfortunately, it was several hours after the pair had left Quantico. When the team of agents searched the residence, they found it empty with the exception of a phone. The local phone company office was called for records on all calls to and from the residence for the past six months.

“You don’t suppose Quinn disposed of her parents, do you?” asked one agent.

“Anything’s a possibility.”

Back in Washington, the lab was running fingerprint analyses. The only prints they found were those of Agent Quinn. However, shortly after that, an agent found one print on the key of the computer at Quantico.

It was run through the CODIS files and there was a hit almost immediately: Irina Derevko. The information was sent to the J. Edgar Hoover Building and specifically to the office of the Director. The Deputy had the unenviable job of bringing it to the Director.

“Christ almighty,” he yelled. “Irina Derevko was at our Quantico site. What the f*ck was she doing there?”

“She was the head of the Behavioral group. She was sent to Quantico to take over for a few days.”

“What?” The Director shouted. “How did that happen?”

“She presented papers from the Philadelphia office. We were short handed, having re-assigned agents from Quantico and Washington and all the offices to head up the hunt…to follow leads. She was there just two days before she disappeared with Quinn.”

“You’re telling me that Quinn is her daughter?”

“The DNA tests don’t lie. Yes, she is the daughter of Derevko and Jack Bristow.” The Deputy Director stood his ground. “We’ve got to let the CIA know right away.”

“Those bastards are going to laugh their heads off,” the Director, commented angrily.

“They’re lucky she didn’t show up in their facility. She is damned smart. She hid in plain sight. No one would ever think to look for her at either FBI or CIA.”

“What happened during the two days she was in charge,” asked the Director, fearing the worst.

“Thirty cases were processed and led to the arrest of fifteen suspects.”

The Director rolled his eyes. “Christ, we’d better not tell them she was in charge.”

“They got confessions from the killers.”

“Who else worked with Quinn and Sobieski…I mean Derevko?”

“Dick Sorrentino. He’s waiting outside.”

“Get him in here.”

Sorrentino entered quickly, glancing at the Deputy Director and then facing the Director, slightly chagrined. “Sorry, sir, but I never thought…”

“Don’t worry about that now,” said the Director, leaning forward. “Tell me what she looked like.”

“She was tall about six feet, slim, muscular, gray haired with green eyes. She wore black horn-rimmed glasses. Nice low voice that was pleasant to listen too. She wore her hair long one day and a plaited pig tail the other. She did not look anything like the pictures we have of Irina Derevko.”

“Get to the identification division on the fourth floor and give them as detailed a description as you can. I want every law enforcement office and every television station to have that picture within the hour.” He glanced at his watch. It was four in the morning. Derevko had a twelve-hour jump on him and the Agency.

“We’ve got to tell the CIA right away,” said his Deputy, watching Sorrentino run out of the room.

“Christ, I hate that!” The Director knew he was going to be in for a ribbing from the Director of Intelligence at the CIA Headquarters in Langley.

His intercom buzzed, “Yes!”

His Secretary said, “Sorry, sir, but there’s an important call for you from an Agent in Colorado.”

“Put him through!” The Director picked up the phone. “Yes?” He listened then slammed the phone down. “Quinn and Derevko are in California. They hired a jet last evening to fly them to the Van Nuys airport. Tell them on the fourth floor I want that picture of Derevko on the wire within the hour to LA.”

**

Sloane stared at the ring. Sydney watched him. He was not going to get anywhere so long as he had things on his mind. She knew he wasn’t fully focused.

“Arvin, if you don’t focus and empty your mind, you are not going to read what the ring is going to tell you.”
He lifted his head and stared at her angrily. “I think you are lying.”

She grabbed the ring and stared down into the stone. The glow that emanated from it seemed to ebb and flow. “Damn it!” She looked at him. He was staring at her. He had seen the glow from the ring.

“What?” He said sharply.

“It’s not going to even begin to work for you. You have to get above water.”

He glared at her, “So satellites can pin point my position?”

“I can’t help you under hundreds of feet of water. The ring won’t even work for me!” She snapped back.

He hit her across the face. She fell to the floor, shaking her head, rubbing her face. “You will make the ring work.”

“I can’t until you get somewhere above water.” She pulled herself up and stood. “That is the last time you will ever hit me.”

“You are not in a position to bargain,” he growled. “Guard?”

The door opened and a man stood waiting. “Take her back to the brig and bring me the man.”

The guard pulled Sydney out of the room. Sloane pounded the table with his fist. Moments later the guard brought Jack and left him, closing the door after him. Sloane looked up. “You and I are going to make a deal, Jack. Sit down.”

“I don’t know if I’m in any position to make any kind of deal, Arvin.” Jack stared at his one-time friend.

“I want Irina.”

“I don’t know where she is, Arvin.”

“Tell me where she is and I won’t kill Sydney.”

Jack stared at him coldly. “You would kill the little girl you watched grow up? The little girl you once thought was yours. You son of a b*tch, look what Rambaldi has brought you too…a one-time good friend, now a killer.

Arvin had the grace to look only slightly guilty.

“I swear to you, I do not know where Irina is. That was her wish. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” He stared into Arvin’s face with a determined stone-cold stare. “I wonder what Emily would say if she were alive now.”

*** TBC

I was right about sobieski

how cool

and the way jack can guilt arvin

way to go B)


Bren

CHAPTER 12
PICK ONE

The small jet plane from Van Nuys airport, landed at Sacramento at 6:30 A.M. Two women left the plane heading for the exit. Each carried a handbag, briefcase, and pulled a small suitcase behind them. The taller one led the way to Budget Rental. The younger woman kept glancing around as if expecting someone to stop her. She looked at the television set, which was in the rear of the rental car room. She stood fascinated as pictures flashed on and off the screen. The sound was turned off, but she didn’t need any sound.

“How long do you want the car?” The clerk asked.

“Three weeks.” Irina reached into the purse she carried and pulled out a stack of bills.

“Insurance?”

“Of course, the best policy, please. I want zero deduction. I would like a California and Oregon map also.” She smiled.

The clerk suddenly felt a bit richer. “That will be five hundred fifty seven dollars per week.” He reached in a drawer behind him and pulled out the two maps she requested.

The woman handed him seventeen one hundred dollar bills. “Where is the closest drop off point in Medford, Oregon?”

He looked at the map. “Eugene.” He handed her some money. The car will be waiting when you go out that door.” He pointed in the direction they were to go.

“Thank you.” She picked up the papers with her gloved hand. She flashed him a brilliant smile. He smiled back. “You’ve been very helpful.”

Roberta threw the clerk a grateful smile, but said nothing and followed her mother.


Roberta Quinn was slow to regain consciousness. She felt a wet rag on her forehead when she finally came to and saw Gail sitting beside her. She tried to sit up, but the ache in her forehead reminded her of Gerard Cuvee.

“Wh-what happened? Where is my supervisor?”

“He decided to leave.” Her voice was kind, understanding.

Robert blinked, “You—you saw…”

“Yes. He won’t be back.” She stood. “I know you’re hurt, but we’ve got to go. Our employer will have traced us here and I think it will be wise to leave with a head start.”

“Can-can I have time…my head hurts.”

Gail glanced at her watch. “I’m going to take a shower and take care of something. You rest. We’ll leave at three thirty.”

Roberta nodded and rested her head. She was trying to remember all that happened. My God, she thought, he was going to rape me! What kind of supervisor is he? Who am I supposed to be working for now? She closed her eyes. Voices tried to penetrate the headache.

A man’s voice said, “Irina?” Who was he talking to then? “Whose idea was it to take my child from me?” A woman’s voice—Gail Sobieski’s voice she thought. It was then that she remembered nothing more. Roberta sat up. Oh God no, it can’t be, she thought. She swung her legs over the side of the sofa and gingerly stood.

She walked into the bathroom and caught Gail in the shower. She turned returning to the sitting room. She sat on the sofa and began to cry…the problem was…why? She couldn’t help herself. In less than twenty-four hours, she went from FBI agent to fugitive. She went from Roberta Quinn to the sure knowledge she must be Roberta Bristow. She had a sister and a brother—Sydney and Julian, but that wasn’t his real name.

“Get up, Roberta.” The voice was soft, insistent.

Roberta rose up to look at Gail. She gasped. She didn’t look like Gail, other than being the same height. She had rich chestnut brown hair, dark brown eyes instead of green.

“Oh God, it’s you!” She stood slowly, recognizing Irina Derevko.

Irina quickly wiped the tears from her face. “I’m your mother, Roberta.” She pulled Roberta into her arms and hugged her. “Listen to what I tell you. In 1982, you were born the second of twins in Moscow. The birth was difficult. They took you and told me you were still born. I believed them.” She held Roberta by both arms. “I had my son and I never questioned the doctors—to my sorrow now. Look at me. You are my child…and though I have not seen you all these years, I do love you.”

Her dark eyes riveted Roberta’s face. “You look a lot like your sister, Sydney. Didn’t you notice that when you met in Moscow?”

“I—I thought it was ridiculous. She told me we were related.” Roberta touched Irina’s face, looking into it as a daughter would, but she was shaking, trying to deal with the reality of losing a set of parents she knew all her life and gaining parents she had heard so much about, including an older sister, Sydney, whom she helped turn over to Sloane. Tears began rolling down her cheeks again. “I—I helped take her prisoner.”

“I know, but there were others, you know. If you were not there, someone else would take your place. There are times when Fate takes over and decides the choices we make.”

“I wish I were dead.” Roberta’s shaking combined with her crying made Irina want to cry herself.

Irina took her in her arms again. “Roberta, please…calm down.” She kissed her gently on both cheeks. “There is so much we have to do yet.”

“Oh God, we are in so much trouble. If they catch you…”

“They won’t. I have found it easy to move around when there are so many pictures showing every day. Pretty soon, people become jaded and don’t really see the picture well enough to compare it with what they see…me.” Irina pulled her up to her feet. “We’re got to go. I want to get to Sacramento early in the morning.”

“Mom…mother…I…” Roberta was confused, sniffling, dabbing at her eyes as Irina let her go.

“For now, Roberta, call me Gail. You’ll find a way to call me whatever comes to you naturally and that will be just fine with me.” She motioned to the bags.


Now they were here. Irina Derevko rented a car, paying cash. She signed for the car with the name of Laura Donohue. It was the name she used many times when in the States illegally. Roberta could not believe they were getting away without anyone seeing them. The television behind the clerk at the rental office had displayed the picture of Gail and herself and then it flashed on Irina’s picture.

As they walked toward the door, Roberta glanced at her mother. The woman was incredible. She was wearing very dark glasses. Her hair was pinned up and in a kind of wild twist. Hair fell on either side of her face and looked as though it was whipped by helicopter blades…windblown. They came out the door just as a driver pulled up in a black Ford Escape, a small fast SUV.

Irina put her bag behind the driver’s seat. Roberta did the same and climbed into the passenger seat, buckled up and waited. Irina slipped behind the wheel and buckled up. She had tipped the Budget employee a couple of dollars. She handed the papers in her hand to Roberta.

“There are two volcanoes in California: Shasta and Lassen. Pick one. However, before you do, I want you to analyze which one would be the most likely to be primed with some sort of atomic device to blow the magna core. You have fifteen minutes before I have to decide where to go and take which highway Interstate 5 to Shasta or 99.”

Roberta glanced down at the papers. She shoved the rental papers into the glove box then put the map between them. Irina had handed her some folders she picked up next to the rental office about sights to see in Northern California. There were three: one on Shasta and two on Lassen, which was the closest. She took five of the fifteen to make the decision.

“Mt Lassen. Before Mt. St. Helens blew, it was the last known active volcano here in the states. It has a summit that is easily reached. Someone with a backpack could easily reach the top and then drop down inside. You start at 8,500 ft. and the summit is 10,457 ft. Its summer, so the trail is clear. Mt. Shasta is over four thousand feet higher and there is no trail…it’s a mountain climbers gig. There is still a great deal of snow in the way. We don’t have the time.”

Irina smiled to herself. She knew it had to be Mt. Lassen. She wanted to see how well Roberta’s analysis compared to hers. She pulled to the side of the road. Leaning over the seat, she lifted her briefcase and put it in Roberta’s lap. “My wireless laptop is in there. Pull it out.

“First I need to know a sports store in town that has climbing equipment as we will need hiking clothes, boots, windbreakers, hat, water, and sunscreen. If we can pick up everything there, so much the better. Second, access all the information you can find on Mt. Lassen. Go to Google see what they have.”

Fifty minutes later, the black Escape, was hurrying northwards toward the national park. They had found the closed sports store. Irina broke in and they took what they needed. Irina also added two items she did not tell her daughter about…yet. Two hand guns and a box of bullets. Roberta opened the map of California and directed her mother on which road to take. She was exhilarated by what they were doing. This was even more exciting than the encounter she’d had with Sydney in Moscow.

*** :reallyexcited:

we're off to see the wizard the wonderful wizard of

mt lassen??


LOL

this is awesome girl

keep it up

CHAPTER 13
TACANA

Unknown to Jack and Sydney, Sloane was bent on sending a message to the countries in the world that he would do what he promised if they did not find Irina Derevko. He made contact with his men in Mexico. They had completed the job. They were waiting to hear from him to set off the small bomb they had planted at Sloane’s orders. They were paid nearly a million dollars for the job, which in pesos was an astronomical fee. The men, there were four, were waiting for word from Sloane. They were in the small village of Tapachula, which had a bar and small grocery as well as a population of three hundred. It was still big enough to be on several maps of the region.

The boss, Salazar Solcido, was drinking beer with the others when his cell phone rang. He opened it.

“Hola!” He said cheerfully. Then he heard Sloane.

“Everything in order?”

“Si, Senor Sloane.”

“Push the button.”

Salazar grinned. “Si, un momento.”

Sloane closed the cell.


Near the border of Guatemala was an old volcano, Tecana, which had blown in the middle eighteen hundreds. There had been no recent warning of impending volcanic action.

The unexpected thunderous explosion ripped through the sparsely populated area. It was felt in Tapachula where the four men stood by their truck. They watched Salazar push the button. Although they were thirty some miles from the volcano, they heard the roar as dirt, rocks and smoke billowed up into the air. The wind was blowing from the west to the east so they did not see the cloud. However, they heard another explosion and the ground shook under their feet.

In Mexico City at the Earthquake Center, the equipment registered a 6.2. In Southern California, at JPL and Caltech, the Richter scale equipment also showed the magnitude of the ‘earthquake’. The geologists were surprised because the region had not registered that degree of severity for as long as the Richter measurements were being used.

In Guatemala City, the scientists at the University were surprised by the intensity of the blast. The ground shook and citizens, thinking earthquake, started running for safety. Schools immediately closed. Students were sent home. The area in a hundred mile circumference shook even harder than in Guatemala City. Someone took an elevator to the top of the tallest building there to see if there was smoke or anything that would tell him or what happened. The phones rang in the police stations, but no one knew exactly what to tell those calling.

Then a call to the University’s Earthquake center was received from the capital of the state of San Marcos. They reported that the volcano Tacana exploded.

“You mean erupted?” The geologist on the line was astonished.

“Yes, there is a huge column of smoke coming from the spot.”

“Anyone report anything….from, from the town?”

“No. We are trying, but there is no answer at any number we called.”

“Send some one right away to at least see.”

“Very well. We will call you as soon as we get a report.” The caller hung up.


The cloud moved north and east into Mexico. Again, the area was sparsely populated. The poor Indian population stared in wonder at the massive cloud that traveled freely on the winds. They could not know they were in any danger, but they were shortly to find out.

The University de Guatemala hired a plane to fly to Tacana to find out what happened. The pilot radioed the crater was on fire and that lava was belching out of a rip in the cone. It was headed down the slope toward Huehuetenango, the capitol of the state of the same name. He said it was moving slowly and it would take days to get close, if it even did that. How high is the cloud he was asked. He estimated at least twenty thousand meters.

In Pasadena, California, the Cal Tech seismic lab started getting some figures from the seismographs which were south of the border. One woman was surprised that it was Tacana, which erupted. She checked all the data they had on the dormant volcano. It had not been active for almost one hundred fifty years. No activity was ever reported and certainly not recorded.

Five hours after the explosion, Cal Tech received a message signed Arvin Sloane. He had primed the volcano with radioactive explosives. He wanted the world to know he meant every word he said. The governments of the world had just forty-eight more hours to find and capture Irina Derevko…or another volcano would be activated.

The word was immediately flashed to every communication source available on the planet—north and south, east and west. Every law enforcement agency was alerted and in the U.S., efforts were redoubled.

The FBI now knew Irina Derevko was loose in the western part of the U. S. Agents from the FBI, CIA, Homeland Defense…anyone who wore a badge was sent westward. She was known to be in Los Angeles. However, no one expected her to stay put. She was accompanied by another woman…younger and unexpectedly identified as a close relative, a daughter.

The CIA and FBI knew Sydney was in Sloane’s hands, so the identification of a daughter meant…what?

***

Jack and Sydney waited. She was returned to the brig after only a short time. She did not know what Sloane planned. Jack told her to use her remote viewing capability and find Sloane.

“We have to know what he’s doing.”

Sydney ‘returned’ to tell him that Sloane had called someone. “I don’t know where, but this is what he said.”

“Everything in order?” Then there was a pause. “Push the button.”

“After that, he closed the phone. He had a…a smirk on his face.”

Jack thought for a moment. “Were there any maps on his desk?”

Sydney groaned. “I didn’t look.” She concentrated and ‘left’. Moments later, she was back and looked at her father. “A map of Mexico and Central America. There were two red circles, one around a spot called Tacana just on the border between Mexico and Guatemala. The other was around Popocateptl in Mexico City. Isn’t the last one a volcano?”

He thought a moment. He snapped his fingers. “He set off a device in Tacana. He wanted to show what he could do, but on a small level. Popo’ is over 14,000 feet and has snow on it the year round. He probably could not get into the core.” He looked at Sydney who was horrified. “I know, but we can’t do anything yet.”

“We have to get Sloane to surface. I might have an idea.”

“First,” interrupted Jack, “we need to know where we are. Go to the control room and look over the shoulder of the man at the wheel. You’ll see a depth gauge…” he went on to describe dials and gauges the driver of the boat used.
Sydney sat cross-legged on the bunk, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She saw the control room and moved to the back of the men operating the ship. The Captain was behind her to the rear of the twin periscopes looking at a table with maps on it. She would get to him soon. She looked at the gauges that Jack described. They were cruising at about four hundred fathoms. They were moving at what looked to be 12 knots.

A moment later, she ‘stood’ next to the Captain. He was plotting the course. They were heading for Nova Scotia. She ‘hurried’ back to give the information to Jack.

“We’re heading the right direction,” said Jack. “We’ve now got to get him to surface.”

“We can work some magic,” said Sydney and described what she planned. Jack nodded in agreement. Sydney was showing her abilities with remote viewing that were beyond anyone else’s. Arvin had no chance. It would be over in two days at the minimum.

Four hours later the sub nudged through the water. It was close to the headland of the southeast coast of Nova Scotia. Sloane had the ring in his hand as the guards brought Sydney into his office.

“Sit,” he snapped.

She did and he held the ring out. “Now what,” she asked.

“Show me how it works.”

She motioned him to sit beside her. “Hold the ring so you can look straight down into it. Focus completely. You have to empty your mind of all other thoughts but what is in the ring.” She watched. “It will take a minute or two.”

Sydney focused into the wall ahead. She was searching for the one person who was able to connect without much effort.

Three thousand miles away, Irina felt Sydney’s mind touch her. Ahead she saw a rest stop. She pulled into it. “We have to change clothes. Use the women’s restroom. I’ll wait and do it after you.”

Roberta left the car with the bag Irina handed her upon leaving the sporting goods store.
Irina saw her go around the corner.

“Yes, Sydney.”

“Mom, we’re near Nova Scotia. Sloane set off an explosion in Mexico. Tacana volcano exploded several hours ago. It was a radioactive device. He’s given the world forty-eight hours to get you.

“I think he plans to set off a device in the Mt. Lassen volcano. He’ll open the plug and release something worse than a small cloud. We’re on our way now.”

“We?”

“You have a sister. Tell your father it was confirmed by the FBI labs DNA files.” Irina heard footsteps. “I have to go. Try to escape.”

“Mom, be careful.”

***

CHAPTER 14
MOTHER, DAUGHTER

Irina checked herself in the mirror. She wore khaki pants, white tee shirt, over which she had a thick warm jacket. Heavy hiking boots adorned her feet and a Giant’s baseball cap with a pair of very dark glasses completed a good disguise. She glanced at her watch. It was midday and she was hungry.

Outside Roberta waited in the car. Irina could see she was gnawing at a knuckle on her right index finger as she approached. She opened the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel.

“Hungry?”

“Yes! Starved, actually.” Roberta turned to look at her.

“We’ll stop in the next town. Get something to eat. Okay?”

Fifteen minutes later, Irina pulled into a parking lot belonging to Freda’s Café in the small town of Morris, north of Chico on 99. It was eleven o’clock and an hour before lunchtime. She hoped there were not many customers. The two women entered and found a booth. It afforded Irina a clear view of the main street of the town.

“Menu’s?” The waitress smiled. She was chewing gum vigorously. “Coffee?”

“Yes,” Irina said. “Cream and sugar, please.” Roberta nodded.

“You got it.” She turned. A minute later, she set two cups of coffee down in front of the pair. Irina ordered eggs, bacon, and fruit. Roberta doubled the order. The waitress left them alone.

The two women sipped at their coffee staring at each other. Irina knew Roberta had many questions. It was a wonder she was still with Irina. She might have made a dash for freedom, but Irina was sure there were too many questions—unanswered—for that to happen right away.

Suddenly Irina glanced up on the wall near the short order cook’s window. There was a TV sitting on a small shelf. The picture of both women flashed across the screen. Irina held her finger to her lips and listened to the announcer’s voice.

“A man’s body was found at the Biltmore Hotel an hour ago. His body was shoved down a laundry chute. He has not been identified. The police are not certain, but they believe he was killed late last night.” The announcer’s voice became excited. “I’ve just been handed a note. Police have identified a fingerprint found in the fourth floor housekeeper’s room as that of Irina Derevko.” The name was a household name especially during the past forty-eight hours. A million dollars for her capture was the most ever offered except for Osama bin Laden.

“Damn,” said Irina. “I thought it would take them longer to locate us.”

“We’re in danger, aren’t we,” said Roberta. “If they find us, we won’t be able to stop Sloane.” She was shaking slightly.

The waitress, whose nametag, indicated her name was Sharon brought them their food. “Do you need anything else,” she asked.

“More coffee, please,” said Irina.

Moments later, Sharon had filled their cups and the two women began eating. Roberta kept thinking about everything that had happened since yesterday. She blinked a couple of times to assure herself she was not dreaming…that it was real. She glanced surreptitiously at Irina Derevko alias Gail Sobieski. How the hell had she put the information together to fool the FBI. She almost giggled thinking about the heads that would roll after…She stopped thinking that ‘after’ meant one of any number of things that could happen.

“A penny for your thoughts,” murmured Irina. She had finished and held her cup between her two hands, staring over the top at her newly found daughter. She reminded her of Sydney so much, except for the blue eyes.

“A…nothing much…just thinking what would happen…ummm.” She stuffed her mouth with some egg.

Irina’s eyes crinkled and there was a smile on her face as she put the cup down. “I would think there would be some shouting at the FBI headquarters.”

Suddenly she stopped. Her eyes glazed over as she felt the presence of Sydney. Roberta stared at her mother who seemed to freeze. She did not move a muscle and her eyes were focused more ‘inside’ her than at Roberta. Irina’s eyes closed slowly as she shut out everyone and everything around her. Roberta had seen it before. Sydney did it. She felt her heart racing as the idea mother and daughter could communicate thousands of miles apart frightened her. She turned pale. Her hands shook again. She put them in her lap. She glanced at the counter. The waitress was busy cleaning its surface and not paying them any attention.

Roberta glanced back at Irina, who was staring at her. Roberta jumped because she had not expected it so soon. “Oh, sorry,” she said.

“I need to talk to you.” Irina’s voice was firm, almost sharp. She turned and waved Sharon over, pantomiming the check.

“We’re leaving.” She stood and Roberta followed.

“Everythin’ al1 right, ladies?” Sharon handed Irina the check.

“It was very good.” Roberta answered as Irina pulled a ten out of her wallet and handed it to the waitress.

Irina smiled, “Excellent, even. We were hungry.”

Outside they walked silently to the car. Inside the diner, Sharon watched them. She frowned slightly, wondering where she had seen them before they walked into the diner. They were so familiar. The car pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hey, Sharon,” called Barney, the short order cook.

“Yeah,” she turned.

“Guess what that announcer said: the reward for that Derevko woman just got bigger—ten mil.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open. She blinked. She looked at the TV again, switching stations until she came to what she was looking for on the screen…a picture of Irina Derevko.

“S*hit,” she swore and picked up the phone at the end of the counter, hoping Barney would not hear.

***

Ten minutes later, Irina and Roberta were driving in the car just a little over the speed limit. Roberta was surprised. She thought they were in a hurry.

Irina turned to look at her. “Roberta, you must wonder what happened and how. Questions must be piling up in your mind. So let me tell you what occurred after Cuvee tried to rape you.” She squeezed Roberta’s hand in hers, but kept her eyes on the road.

“You hit your head on the coffee table and were knocked out. I came into the room and found him fumbling with your clothes.” She trembled slightly remember what he was doing when she confronted him.

“You killed him, didn’t you?” Roberta’s blue eyes stared out the windshield. “You disposed of his body by yourself.”

“Yes!”

“Did you shoot him?”

“Yes. Gerard Cuvee was my supervisor in the KGB and he assigned me to marry Jack Bristow. It was a mistake on his part. His name then was Russian, Nicolai Petroffskiy. When the KGB dissolved, the men who were thugs and criminals left before they could be arrested. Cuvee joined small groups of criminals he could run…nothing big, but he was dangerous. I formed another organization. He was jealous of both my success and the money I made as The Man, which was the alias I assumed. I did not want anyone to know I was a woman other than those who worked for me.” She explained how she brought her son back from Ireland and about Khasinau.

“Then I began hearing about SD-6 and the new super agent who worked for them. Some of my people ran into her from time to time. It was Sydney. News travels fast in the intelligence world and she was amazing. I’m not sure the FBI or the CIA know everything she did because she worked for an organization run by Arvin Sloane. He was a friend of both Jack and mine from years ago.”

Roberta was fascinated. Vaguely she remembered reading the Bristow/ Derevko history. It was the most famous case, next to the Rosenbergs, that the FBI ever handled. Still it was new when she heard her mother…she was becoming used to thinking Irina was actually her real mother.

“I want you to know you are my daughter and I do not intend to let you go. You belong to the Bristow family now.” Irina glanced away from the road and used her right hand to hold Roberta’s left.

Roberta was still groggy with the information Irina gave her. She was raised by the woman she knew as her mother. She was a good person. She loved her. The fact she unlocked the memory key that was planted by someone she didn’t even remember seemed gross.

“What happened to me?” Roberta whispered, staring out the windshield.

“I think they trained you as a Project Christmas child. Your real father designed the program over thirty years ago, but the CIA abandoned it when they learned I had stolen its secrets. They did not know your father trained your sister after they let him out of prison. That is why Sydney is a top agent or was. She quit and got married for which I was thankful.”

“Irina…” she was so confused still about what to call the woman beside her.

Irina smiled. “It’s all right, Roberta.” She put her right hand back on the wheel and accelerated. It was going to be one o’clock soon and she wanted to get to Lassen before too late.

“You were in contact with Sydney, weren’t you? You were preoccupied for a minute or two.” Roberta said. “I mean while we were in the café.”
Irina’s hand froze on the wheel. She looked at Roberta. “How do you know?”

“I know. I saw Sydney do the same thing in the plane. I also know she can do remote viewing. I felt her presence twice when I was in Russia. She is better at it than any FBI test subject and way above SVR people.”

“Yes, your father taught her.” Now Irina turned her eyes back onto the road. “We must go.” She did not want to pursue the fact Roberta ‘sensed’ Sydney’s abilities. She would leave that up to Jack to tell her.

They were on 99 heading north. They still had to get to Red Bluff and then take 89 to Lassen. It would be nightfall before they made it into the park. Irina turned the radio on since it would be important to monitor broadcasts. She was concerned that Cuvee was found long before she anticipated and now the danger of her being spotted was doubled. Every law enforcement officer would be heading for California. There would be roadblocks everywhere. She had to get inside Lassen National Park before any of that happened. They couldn’t make the climb at night, but they could be ready by dawn. She glanced at her watch, twenty-four hours.

“Mom—Irina…listen!”

Irina had been concentrating hard. “What?”

“They just said you were spotted in Northern California.”

“Get that California map out. Quick, I need to turn off the highway. This car has been made and we have to change cars.”

***
:angry:

Loved the mother/daughter moments. Can't wait for more and thanks for the pm.

CHAPTER 15
REACH

The small SUV hurtled down the highway. Roberta was reading the map of California. Irina was impatient. She had to get off the road before roadblocks were set up or helicopters started flying overhead. The car would be located, but all the information was not easily come by since she used an alias and paid cash.

“There,” yelled Roberta, pointing to a small paved road leading up into the foothills. Irina stopped, backing up so she could turn into it.

“Does it go anywhere?”

“Not really. There must be ranches up with road there were a couple of mailboxes sitting by the side.”

“Okay, we need to change vehicles: get a truck or a small car, something different.”

Roberta let Irina drive as she watched for roads leading from this one. There was one around the next bend, but a car was paused at the entrance ready to turn to go to 99. Irina kept on going. It was nearly eight miles later that the road became gravel. Irina slowed.

“There can’t be too many ranches left up here.” Roberta looked around. Scrub brush and grassland…extremely rocky. Pine trees loomed ahead marking the beginning of the lower tree line. “Stop,” she cried.

Irina put on the brakes. She let the car roll back a few feet. A gate. She turned left into the driveway. Roberta got out and pulled it open. There was no lock on it. They traveled about a quarter of a mile when they saw the house and barn. Both looked a little worn for wear, shabby would be another word. Both buildings needed painting. There were corrals in the rear of the property. However, there was no sign of life.

Irina backed the SUV into the barn. They got out and looked around. No animals of any kind were in the corral. Roberta looked at her mother. Irina said nothing but reached in the back of her khaki pants and took out the gun she brought with her from the FBI training school. It was four o’clock and getting dark. She glanced out the door. There was no dog either, and typically, on any farm or ranch, it was her experience, there would be a watchdog.

“I don’t know,” she said. She thought a moment and then started out of the barn toward the house. There was about fifty yards of open space. They were vulnerable to anyone in the house.

Up on the porch, Irina checked the windows first. She could see nothing. It looked empty inside. She tried the door. It was open. She pushed the door all the way back. She stepped inside. Roberta followed.
“What’s that smell,” said Roberta.

Irina knew. She looked around in the room. There was an old sofa on one side of the fireplace. It faced an open area that looked like a kitchen. Furniture consisted of two rickety chairs, a table, a bookcase, and what looked to be a comfortable stuffed chair of some undetermined color. The sag of the cushion told her someone sat in it a lot. She stuffed the gun in her belt.

“Look at the kitchen and outside. I’ll look in the bedroom.”

Roberta walked past her, glancing down the small short hallway. “Yeah, will do.”

Irina stood for a moment before taking a step toward the inevitable sight she expected. The door was only half closed. She pulled her weapon again just in case. She pushed the door all the way open with it. She was careful not to leave traces of her presence. There was someone in the bed. She walked as quietly as she could. The man in the bed was turned away from her. She touched him. He was cold and very dead.

She thought he was dead for about a day or less. She did not want to look at him. She used the bottom of her jacket to pull the door shut. This didn’t complicate anything yet. It was probably from natural causes. Irina walked into the kitchen. It was not too messy. In fact, considering there was not a woman around, it was neat.

Irina felt something at her ankles. She looked down. It was a cat. The animal was mewing. The animal was probably hungry. She looked around. There was an old icebox in the left hand corner and shelves over a wooden counter. She looked and saw some canned cat food. There was some dry food also.

Roberta hurried back to find her mother feeding the little cat. Irina smiled, “She was hungry. I don’t know when they’ll find him, but I’m going to leave some dry food to keep her. Did you find anything?”

“Yes, an old Ford truck outside. The keys are in the ignition. Guess he felt fairly safe up here.”

“Good.” Irina stood up as the cat began eating and purring at the same time.

“Shouldn’t we get going? Oh, what did you find?” Roberta knew, but she wanted to be sure.

“The owner. He probably died in his sleep yesterday.” Irina held up her hand. She heard something. “Quiet.”

Then Roberta heard it. She looked at Irina. Trouble. It was a helicopter and it was coming this way. Irina didn’t move as the helicopter flew over at a low altitude. They turned as the copter headed north. It turned and came back, circled and then again headed north.
“This changes things. It won’t be long before they come here to check.” Irina sighed. She turned and pulled Roberta into her arms, hugging her. “I need you to do something. It will be dangerous.”

Roberta stood still, looking at Irina. “What are you planning to do?”

“I’ve got to buy myself some time and you time to get to Lassen.” Irina handed her a cell phone. “You have to disarm the device.”

“Why not get someone to do it if you plan to do what I think.”

“I have until tomorrow evening. Forty-eight hours is what Arvin gave them. The governments won’t give him control of those satellites. He’ll blow Lassen to show them he is serious. Many people will be hurt and worse. The ash will blow across the United States: Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, maybe Nebraska, and Iowa, even Oklahoma and Texas. Crops can be affected. You have to disarm it. That cell phone has a number of a man who is a technical genius. He works for the CIA and his name is Marshall Flinkman. You explain who you are and who asked you to call him. He can help.”

“Where are you going?”

“Up there.” She pointed to the tree line. “I’ll drive the SUV as far in as it will take me.”

“What if they stop me?”

“You’ll be alone and in a completely different car. I expect you won’t have trouble. It’s the only chance we have. You have to get up to Lassen and climb to the top.” Irina grabbed Roberta again, hugging her tightly. “You are a Bristow and a Derevko. You have a history now. We never give up.” She kissed her on both cheeks. “I love you, remember that. We’ve known each other only a couple of days. That may be all we can know each other, let’s hope not.”

Roberta hugged her back. “I will try not to disappoint you.”

Irina looked around the two rooms. She found an old flour sack. She put some food in it. She might need something later. Roberta turned and walked outside to the car. She was scared, not for herself, but for her mother.

***
It was midnight in Nova Scotia. They had come off the submarine with two men and met by a car with two more men heavily armed. Jack and Sydney were put in the trunk, after being tied up and gagged. The car drove for about an hour. When they stopped, they were hustled into what looked to be a mansion.

Sloane sat with Sydney as she walked him through techniques in reading the ring. Jack joined them at Sydney’s insistence. Jack meditated. He sat relaxed, his hands in his lap. He told Sydney she had to keep Sloane busy. He wanted to find Irina. He smiled briefly. She was all right, but in danger. She sent Roberta to Lassen by herself. Jack knew she had to be desperate to separate herself from their daughter whom they discovered only days ago. He broke the ‘connection’ and returned to the two across the table. Sloane had an excited look on his face. Sydney glanced at her Dad who gave her the barest nod. The plan they discussed must be put into action now.

Jack didn’t move, but Sydney turned and grabbed Arvin around the neck. He was careless, eager to find out what secrets the ring held for him. His devotion to Rambaldi made him susceptible to the guile Sydney used. Gripping him, using the manacles she wore on her wrists, she wound the chain around his neck. She threw her leg across his body, pulling him to the floor. He struggled but she was unrelenting. Jack warned her not to kill him.

“Guard?” Jack called in a voice similar to Arvin’s own. He was standing at the side of the door. Sydney pulled Sloane to one side so the guard would not see them first. He had to take a step inside so Jack could take him without much effort.

The door opened and the guard stepped inside. He did not have his gun in his hand and was unprepared for the blow first to his head and then to his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. As he fell forward, Jack kicked him in the head. He fell back to the side unconscious. Jack relieved him of his sidearm. Sydney had Arvin almost to the unconscious state.

“Knock him out,” said Jack, “we ought to take him with us, but he’ll be too cumbersome.” He began rummaging in Arvin’s drawers and the glass case near his bed. “Ah, I thought he might have some here.” He reached inside a drawer, pulling out a black case. Opening it, he removed a syringe and a bottle of some clear liquid. He filled it. Sydney stepped away from Sloane who was prone on the floor…out.

“What is it?”

“Something that will keep him out for a couple of hours.” He injected it into Arvin’s arm. “Take the ring. I want him to want the ring more than anything else. He’s asked for the satellites, but after your session with him, I think his desire for all things Rambaldi will overpower the other, at least for the time being. He’ll come after us for the ring.”

“You don’t think he’ll activate the devices?”

Jack shook his head, “you had him so hypnotized by the ring’s power, and he will do everything to get it back. If we are gone, he’s going to spend time looking for us.”

***

Irina maneuvered the SUV into the forest. She found a narrow road leading from the old man’s house and got under the trees about the same time she heard the helicopter coming back. It had taken her twenty minutes after Roberta had driven the Focus away down to the highway. Irina bit her lip and although God was not in her early curriculum, she prayed He would keep Roberta safe and on her way to Lassen without being stopped.

Light was dimming fast. She could not turn the headlights on or someone would surely see them. She was glad she had her jacket. It was cold up here in the Sierras. She moved the SUV into the heavy brush. It was barely visible. She checked to see if it could be spotted by anyone. Irina reached for the gun in her waistband and after removing the bullets, smashed the gun into pieces. It was made of plastic and had served its purpose. Satisfied, she climbed back inside the SUV and waited.

Hours passed. She curled up in the bench seat behind the front. She was tired. Her last thought before drifting off was of Roberta. She had two daughters and they both were beautiful. She wondered if Roberta were as resilient as Sydney was.

***

Roberta drove the small car down to the highway. She turned right. She drove fast, but not over the speed limit. Suddenly from the opposite direction came several police vehicles, their sirens, and lights flashing. She moved over a little to give them room, as any law-abiding citizen would do. They ignored her. Irina Derevko was suspected to be at a ranch east toward the mountains.

She had a feeling the roadblock was not up ahead of her. She pressed on the accelerator until the speedometer reached seventy.

***

The rangers and FBI agents moved slowly through the forest. They used modern science to spot the SUV where it was hidden. Heat sensitive equipment carried by the helicopter swept a five-mile area from the old man’s barn back into the mountains and five miles on either side.

It was spotted almost three miles in above the tree line. Night glasses worn by the pilot indicated just one person inhabited it and no one else was near by, at least any human.

Irina had not had much sleep during the past forty-eight plus hours. She was exhausted and was in a deep sleep when agents and rangers surrounded the SUV. One designated agent moved to the door. His boot struck a dry branch. It cracked seemingly echoing throughout the forest. Without warning the door to the rear seat, which Irina had kept slightly ajar, burst open and she hurtled through it, knocking down two agents.

Her skills as a runner were not well known, so she had the momentary advantage, running swiftly through the trees. She also had the advantage of surprise. None of the men expected her to break through. Powerful halogen lamps were turned on and focused in the direction she ran. The bright lights caught her illuminating her flight. The agents moved after her. Rangers, knowing the direction she was heading, took off in a move to cut her off from a hiking trail that led through the forest.

Irina seemed to outrun the agents below. She was moving swiftly and not breathing hard. The agents called to each other. They were spreading apart in order to prevent her from slipping through. She found a small animal path, probably deer. She turned and began following it. The trees blocked light from the moon. Irina knew she had to stay out of law enforcement hands as long as she could in order to give Roberta time.

She turned around a tree and saw a large boulder weighing several tons blocking the path, which she had to detour around it. She saw the path in a patch of moonlight that struck the granite obstacle and headed toward the other side.

Without warning, she was struck by a heavy object across her abdomen. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

“Reach, lady, grab a fistful of moonlight.” The voice belonged to someone who lived in the area. There was a twang in his voice.

She couldn’t stand up for the moment. Rough hands grabbed her jacket and hauled her to her feet. Someone close by shouted, “We got her!”

“Turn around and keep your arms up and your feet spread.”

Irina did as she was told. Two pairs of hands roughly searched her. “She ain’t got a gun,” said another voice.

“Hands behind your back,” ordered the first man. He handcuffed her. “Let’s go, Harv.”

Voices from below were louder and shortly agents and other rangers joined the threesome. “Finally,” said the agent in charge. “We got to get her to an airport. Time is passing fast.”

“Yeah…about that reward. I think we’ll go with her just to be sure we get it.” Harv said.

“Blood money,” muttered Irina.

The other man holding her by the other arm slapped her hard, almost knocking her to the ground.

“Hey, cut that out. You’ll get the money, but you have to share it with Sharon, the waitress at the café in Morris. She spotted her and called in the tip.”

An hour later, Irina was seated in the back seat of a police car. Sirens were blowing. She was on her way to Arvin Sloane.

*** :(

CHAPTER 16
BILL AND MICHAEL

Handcuffed and shackled, Irina sat between two very big U.S. marshals in the rear of the Army helicopter sent to pick her up in Morris. She still felt the pain across her abdomen that she sustained when hit by the ranger in the mountains. She would have it for a few more days, that is, if she lived. She had no reservations about what Sloane was planning to do to her when they gave her to him.

The helicopter made the trip to Sacramento International in less than an hour. It settled down on the tarmac on the private side of the field. They probably would fly her in a private jet to wherever Sloane wanted her delivered. The propellers and engines stopped. The doors slid open. There were several men waiting outside. The marshal on her left stepped out. He reached in and pulled her down, the other marshal inside helping. She said nothing as they removed the ankle chains. She saw no reason to chat with anyone. It was strange. No one else spoke either.

“This way,” said one of the marshals. He grabbed her arm and moved quickly about a hundred yards to a twin engine Lear jet. The first marshal went up the steps and the second pushed, and then followed her inside.

They out her into a seat halfway back. Once she was seated, the chains were once again put on her ankles. The seat belt was adjusted across her abdomen. She winced. Then they put a harness on her similar to that of a parachute. It was attached to her seat belt and went over her shoulders, the back of the seat, and pulled tight, snap-locked behind her. She was tied to the seat. She could not move.

No one said anything. The marshals checked the harness, looked at her, and walked to a pair of seats near the rear where they could watch her.

“Not taking any chances,” she thought. If she wanted to go to the bathroom, it would not be easy.

Irina glanced out the small window. Three men were talking at the foot of the stairway. Two of them turned toward the big black SUV sitting a few yards away, the third turned and came up the steps. Irina drew in her breath sharply. Michael Vaughn! Now how did she rate? This might be an interesting trip after all. She had not seen nor spoken to him for months.

Vaughn sat down two rows in front of her after glancing her way briefly. A minute later, the co-pilot announced they were going to be taking off and all passengers should fasten their seat belts. Irina wanted to laugh.

The takeoff was smooth and the plane tore up into the sky, gaining altitude as fast as it could. They had the Sierras to go over as well as the Rockies later on in the flight. As it banked to the right, Irina could see Lassen, gleaming in the moonlight. There was at least three more hours until dawn and Roberta’s climb to the top and down into the caldera to locate Sloane’s nuclear device. She hoped it was not too late.

Irina turned back to the window again, staring out at the moonlit countryside and the mountains they were flying toward as the plane gained altitude. She didn’t know how fast the plane was, but she anticipated it would be five to six hours before the plane reached the destination Sloane designated. It would be daylight. She closed her eyes. Auto circadian meditation would help pass the time. Irina Derevko, prisoner, was soon asleep.

“Derevko.” The voice was sharp, authoritative.

Irina’s eyes flew open to see Michael Vaughn sitting in front of her. He had turned the seat around so he faced her. It was one of the conveniences when flying in a private jet.

“Agent Vaughn,” she answered coldly.

“I want to know about my father,” he said. “I don’t want any lies.”

“I see no reason to tell you anything. There is nothing in it for me.” She answered.

“You once told Sydney you would tell me if I asked.”

She studied him for a moment before saying, “You are not her husband or lover. Your connection with her is nil.” Her voice was steady, calm.

“You killed him…murdered him.”

She said nothing, but stared. He was unnerved slightly by déjà vu. It happened when they brought her in from Langley and Sydney was off to collect a disc Derevko had stored in a safe in the ancient city of Rabat. Vaughn had tried to get her to talk then and it was not until he mentioned Sydney’s first name that he heard her speak. For a moment, he thought she was assessing his statement.

“What will you give me,” she asked.

“Give you?” He was puzzled.

“You want information. What are you willing to pay for it?” Her voice was cold.

“Money?”

“Now, what would I do with money?” She kept her voice even and calm.

“What then?”

“You go away and don’t talk to me again.”

“Done.” He said. He didn’t mind giving her something like that. He did not want ever to see the b*itch again. He hated her. He knew she was the reason he didn’t have Sydney. Their being kidnapped in Paris together had begun the downward spiral in the relationship between Sydney and him.

As if she read his mind, Irina laughed. “It seems to me we had a similar conversation in Kashmir. You didn’t want to listen then either if I remember right.”

“I’m listening now.”

“Too late to get Sydney back,” she said with a smirk.

“Tell me about my father!” He demanded, fighting for control. He wanted to hit her. There was a fleeting moment when he thought she might be toying with him.

“What exactly do you want me to say? Confirm the story handed to you by CIA. You probably know it by heart.”

“Why did you kill him?”

“He was a God damn spy. Isn’t that what he did for a living?” She liked playing with him.

“He was a patriot,” he snapped back.

“It depends on the country he was in at the moment. He was no patriot in my country. He was spying for the United States. He was caught.”

Vaughn decided he try for a different angle. “Why did he end up in Kashmir and not in Lubyanka prison?”

“It was a secret prison for interrogation of spies and traitors.” She gave him a straight answer.

“So you were one of the interrogators?”

“No.”

“You tortured my father.”

“No.”

“Liar,” he charged.

“Sometimes, but not now. We have an agreement.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

“After spending ten years spying for my country, I returned. They thought I was working for CIA.”

Vaughn’s mouth gaped. “What made them think that?”

“I spent ten years in the United States enjoying the freedoms and the benefits therein. They did not believe anyone in their right mind would ever return freely unless the enemy had turned them. They thought I was a double agent.” Irina dark eyes held his.

She was telling the truth, he thought. “Of course you were.” He laughed sarcastically.

She shrugged. She was not going to feed him. “I was in the prison cell next to your father.” Irina had his full attention now. Her mind filled with the memories of those terrible months after her return.

“He was caught and brought to the prison a couple of months after I arrived. His life was a living hell. He was interrogated every day. They systematically broke every bone in his hands and arms. When he would not talk, they started on his feet.” She stared out the small window for a moment and then began again staring hard at him. “Do you know how many bones there are in the human body?” He didn’t answer.

“We became friends of a sort,” she said quietly, remembering the taller man. “He told me the first day, I could call him ‘gringo’ and he’d call me ‘Russkie’. He didn’t want to know my real name and said it was better I didn’t know his.

“I was three months pregnant by then and your father was a very brave man. He gave me most of his food. He knew he was not ever going to leave the prison alive. It was only a matter of time.”

She looked at Vaughn. He was staring at her angry and hurt. She knew he hated her and he was angry that the last person to see his father alive was herself. Irina looked away.

“One day they brought him back from interrogation and left him on the floor in his cell. He could barely move and was almost unable to speak he was in so much pain. I thought he was going to die there…that night.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Still he had enough strength to push the meager bowl of food they brought over to me.”

Irina remembered how she had gobbled the food down. She had been ravenous. “The next morning, they came again for him. They pulled him down the hall. He could not walk…the pain was so great.”

“Oh God,” Vaughn whispered.

“It was nearly an hour later, they came for me again. When my pregnancy began to show, they had slacked off. I think they knew I was not a double agent now…I was going to have a child and I would not have returned under any circumstances unless I was truly a loyal patriot.”

She smiled quietly to herself, once again remembering Kashmir. “I was led to one of the interrogations rooms. Your father was there. They had broken his nose and blood gushed down his face.

“I was not sure why they brought me. Then one of the interrogators told me that I was going to be sent home … after I performed a duty. They told me to kill the prisoner.”

Vaughn sucked in his breath. “You were ordered…”

“Yes and I did with two shots in the back of the head. They let me go the next day.”

He reached across, grabbed her jacket, and slapped her. He was strong, but she was tied into the seat and she gasped as the straps cut into her chest and abdomen. The slap hurt, but she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“Agent Vaughn!” One of the marshals stood and took a step toward him.

“Get back, this is between the b*itch and me.”

“Sir, she is a prisoner.” His eyes warned Vaughn not to do anything more.

“She’s a spy and a murderer.” However, he let go of her jacket.

Irina regarded him steadily. “Yes and almost your mother-in-law. Now how would that look on your personnel file?” She laughed, smirking again. She wondered how far she could go. This had been fun. It was a game.

Now, go away please.” Irina didn’t elaborate. She wanted to be alone to think. She did not want to think about either Vaughn anymore.

*** :P

that was intense

I am loving all the story you are building here and the past you have played out in your previous epics

nice job