Before I start the chapter I would just like to say thank you for reading "Different" and for taking the time to review and leaving your wonderful comments.

Danielle87: After this chapter, or it may be the one after that, I will be skipping ahead 6 years or so to when Sydney is 12 and Nadia 6. and then stopping there for a couple of chapters before jumping forward again. Jack and Irina won't be finding Sydney properly just yet...but in this chapter...

Chapter 6

ROME, ITALY

The day had started out relatively normal; or as normal as it could do for a woman that was living a lie. Maybe not a complete lie, but her life was built on a shaky foundation at best. Married to a man, a CIA Agent that she had only gotten to know because of the information he held. And now, many years later; in love -- though she did not admit that to the part of her that was still KGB, with two children. Despite the fact that it was almost a year since her oldest child's disappearance she could never forget her, never believe the very real possibility that she was no longer alive. If Sydney were dead she would know, would feel it. Besides she had received no word that Sydney had been terminated. She had numerous contacts that the KGB did not know about, a few of which still resided in the mother country; the one place she could no longer gain access to.

Even if Irina had been able to go there and search for her daughter herself, instead of waiting impatiently for second hand information, she could not have done. To do so would surely have meant the death of her youngest daughter. Those nine months had been torturous; she had felt too vulnerable knowing that her old bosses could choose to take her life at any second. Her ex-handler was evidence of that; shot in the head whilst hanging over a pier on one still night in summer. Even now, her three-month-old daughter could be taken, just like Sydney. It was why both she and Jack were so vigilant. He had set up a protective escort for now, to watch over them. It was necessary but slightly ludicrous, Irina could take care of anything.

Not that her husband knew that. Besides, she had some of her own people playing babysitter, too. However, the Agents Jack had working for him were not CIA, she knew them and how they worked. These people were something different.

But now, as Irina Derevko stared down the barrel of the gun that was leveled unwavering at her head, she wondered how she would ever find answers to her questions if she were dead.

24 Hours Earlier

LOS ANGELES

The Agents at the desks, lined orderly and in the dozens, acknowledged Jack with a nod or "hello" as he passed by them on his way to his friend's office. He knew a large majority of them by now, had worked with a few of them personally in one form or another. And they were all clueless, in all probability would stay that way. Jack only knew the truth because Sloane had detailed everything to him upon his recruitment. This underground, semi-lit, dull coloured place that all in the sub level knew as SD-6 was not affiliated with the CIA. Never was and never would be.

This was the way it had to be, the CIA were not expending any more resources on finding Sydney and that was unacceptable. Sloane was willing to do anything to aid Jack in getting her back, it was that reason, the only reason he had agreed to come here. He had seen first hand how SD-6 worked, how his old friend ran things. They were thorough here and ready to do anything, within reason, to get what they wanted. SD-6 got places faster, got results quicker without all the red tape; and Sloane allowed him a freer rein than he had at the CIA, as long as he got things done.

They were closer to finding Sydney; she had been spotted since her kidnapping. He had arrived at the supposed location she was being held minutes too late. The men and women on the extraction team had learnt to steer clear of Jack Bristow after a failure. Jack thought he was so close to finding his missing child, he had no clue how wrong he was, that he was never within 1000 miles of her let alone shouting distance. It was a lie to keep him at SD-6.

He had not told Laura he was no longer with the CIA. When she kissed him goodbye and told him to be careful she had no idea she was really watching him drive to the enemy of their country. He violently disliked the lie but it was the one rule he had to follow, nobody could know of his affiliation with SD-6, not even his beloved wife. It was for her protection though; if he told her the truth she would be swiftly killed. He could not stand to lose anyone else. Technically Jack was still with the CIA; he was just on extended leave, his boss had not accepted his resignation. They were allowing the leave because the director knew how much of an asset he was to the Agency, and because he needed the time off to come to terms with Sydney's disappearance. And until he left completely he was still able to use their resources.

Jack came to a stop outside Sloane's office; the man himself was on the phone. He waved Jack in and motioned for him to pull up a chair. A few minutes passed before Sloane put down the phone and when he did he smiled rather triumphantly, that meant good news. Jack contained his impatience; it was about his daughter, it had to be! He was not to be disappointed this day. Sloane looked happy for him, almost as excited as Jack was sure to be. "We've found her, Jack. At first we weren't sure, there have been so many near misses these past few months. We think she was moved from her previous location because someone else is searching for her. A lot of people are very interested in your little girl."

"Why?" Jack was partly asking himself but hoped Sloane could provide some sort of insight.

Sloane however, merely shrugged. "I don't know. But Sydney is special, apparently somebody else has seen that." Jack missed the Mona Lisa smile by a second. "You know as much as I do that we need to get her out of this. We don't know what she's been told or what she's heard that could be useful."

Jack looked up sharply. "Sydney is a child, I will not use my daughter for information."

The older man waved away the accusation. "I know," he agreed and proceeded carefully. "I could have phrased that more delicately. What I meant was; whoever else is looking for her will seek to find out what Sydney may have learned this last year or so. It might be information we can use against her kidnappers, I would imagine you want to take down the people that ordered her kidnapping."

"Of course," he answered calmer. "But she is only 7 years old, I don't want her to be put through anything else. Where is she?" he then asked anxiously.

"Rome. Intel indicates she arrived yesterday accompanied by an, as yet, unidentified man and woman. It's taken this long to ascertain whether Sydney was the young girl that was with them. I didn't tell you earlier because I couldn't be sure it was her," Sloane told him sincerely. He pushed a thin manila folder across the table to Jack, who took it and flipped it open to the first page. The picture that had been taken was very grainy; blowing the photo up did not serve to make it much clearer. The woman that held the hand of the young girl was facing away from the camera and the man's face was barely recognisable since a hat obscured his features quite effectively. "Reports tell the young girl was American, despite speaking Russian."

Jack nodded. It was to be expected really, they were integrating her into their society. It also indicated they never intended to give her back. Jack could only think of one reason she would have been taken, though it was a shaky theory at best. "Project Christmas," he stated.

"It is possible they believe you used Sydney to test the effectiveness of the Project," Sloane agreed, immediately on the same wavelength as his friend. "Did you speak to anyone--?"

"Of course I didn't," Jack interjected.

"Not even Laura?" Arvin checked, wary.

Jack shook his head in answer, hiding his indignation. "I know the importance of the Project better than anyone, Laura has no idea; and even if she did, whom would she tell?" he countered.

"Even the unlikeliest of people can be turned, Jack, you know that." He seemed to watch the younger man more carefully for a moment, checking for any signs that Jack was holding something back.

Jack noticed but did not comment. Though he partly saw the need for such questions he was angry that Arvin would doubt him, and suspect his wife. Unless he had been ordered to do so from someone higher up. Project Christmas was a CIA Op but that did not stop his superiors from being interested. "Laura knows nothing," jack answered, firm in his response.

"Why did you not inform me sooner?" Irina was stood by her car outside the Sloane's home, Nadia was balanced in one arm whilst she held the phone in the other. The baby, bored with the lack of attention, reached up to try and fiddle with one of the earrings as her mother spoke.

"We had to be sure it was your daughter," the Russian man on the other end of the line answered. "I can't be certain but it looked like she was also being surveyed by someone else. I'm running a check on the man I saw, if I get a hit I will call back." The conversation continued for a couple more minutes as the Russian, Zolokov gave her the location that Sydney was being held. "You were lucky, they only moved her because they thought people were coming close to finding her in Russia. Your plan worked, we made them come out into the open. I will extract her, da?"

"I will do it myself. I want to see the people that took my daughter from me," Irina answered, a promise of danger was apparent in her tone. No sane person would want to trade places with Sydney's kidnappers. She knew that if anything went wrong there would be no one to blame but herself; Irina couldn't let anybody else take on this mission, she had to be the one to do it. This was too personal. The conversation ended soon after. At first she had not been sure that she could trust Zolokov, the stocky Russian had left the KGB's service 4 years earlier, he had proved useful though as had small group of his comrades that Irina had also had work for her the last year.

As she was locking her car door Emily emerged from her home and waved from the doorstep. "Jack called 5 minutes ago, he asked me to let you know that work has him delayed but he'll get back to you as soon as possible," she relayed as she made her way towards her friend and goddaughter. "And how's your little ray of sunshine?" Emily beamed.

"Hungry," Laura laughed before continuing. "I hate to do this but can you look after Nadia for a little longer? I have to go out of town for a short while. I should be back tomorrow, I hope it isn't a problem."

"On the contrary," Emily answered and reached out to take the bubbly baby from her mother. "I'd love to have her. It's a welcome sight to have another child around."

Laura nodded but hid back a hopeful smile. With a little luck, by tomorrow, Sydney would be back where she belonged.

ROME, ITALY

Sydney sat cross-legged on a stone backless bench, completely motionless as she observed three sparrows hopping inside a birdbath three feet ahead of her. It was her version of watching the birds at the park back home, her real home. It was something she had not done in a while. She closed her eyes, feeling the sun beat down on her as she tried to visualize an old and familiar scene. Her memories were still there but she noticed all too keenly that she was starting to forget, something she had, months ago, tearfully promised herself she would not do. Sydney worried every so often that one day she would forget everything about her old life, less confusing life. She could only remember her parents faces because of the old collage she had put together at school only hours before being told the tragic news that they had died; the seven year old still choked up when she remembered that horrible moment. She could not even remember what they sounded like, nor recall what her favorite teacher looked like, and what colour was her room again? Did she have a pet or was it just one of those things she had continually asked her parents for but never got?

Her lack of ability to bring memories to the fore annoyed the heck out of her. It had promoted her to write in her notebook, whenever she remembered something about her old life she jotted it down, bits and pieces of a life forever immortalized in ink.

Sydney still had dreams though. Sure sometimes she would wake with a heavy heart when she remembered the truth, but for a little while she really was wrapped up all snug and warm at Christmas with her mother and father, in front of the biggest and most grand tree she had ever set eyes on.

"Sydney?" a voice shouted out for her from the back door to the garden she was currently in.

"Zdes', tyotya!" Sydney called back in her aunt's native tongue.

Yelena appeared, her hands on her hips in mock annoyance. "I have been searching for you!" she took a seat next to her niece, "I am pleased you are practicing your Russian. Ochen' dobry, Sydney."

"Spasiba," she thanked. "I'm bored, I want to play a game."

Yelena looked at her watch, there was still time. "Kharasho, what do you suggest?"

"I think – ya…shp…shp…"

"You can say it in English," Yelena suggested.

Giving up, for now, Sydney agreed. "Okay, I want to play "I spy"."

There were 2 hours until sunset and it was a 45-minute drive to reach the villa where Sydney was being held. The search on the people with her at the airport had not been completely fruitless; Zolokov had come up with one name, for the man. He was, however, only a hired gun so it was probable he would know next to nothing except he was to watch over a young girl. Irina would question him if the possibility arose but it was no great loss if he got away. Spread out on the table was a layout of a villa close to the one Sydney was inside; all the homes were near identical so this blueprint would have to do. Zolokov had gone to the villa before she arrived in Rome and was currently surveying the area; she awaited his call impatiently. Time seemed to have slowed since she set foot in the country.

As she reached into the fridge for a bottled drink the phone rang and she picked up the handset immediately and waited for the caller to speak first. "It's Zolokov," he identified before proceeding. "I think they know they are being watched, there had been increased activity around the villa the last half an hour. It is my belief that they are leaving, If you are going to get your daughter, come now!" he informed hastily.

Irina slammed the phone down, not bothering to pick up the handset as it fell to the floor; she was already out the door.

"How the hell can they know?" Jack demanded of the team sent to assist him with the recovery of his daughter.

They were stood, almost huddled together inside the small space of a supposed electrical companies van that was parked 6 houses down from the villa. One of the agents was a tall man that towered over most of his teammates; he had joined SD-6 two months after Jack after being transferred from another SD cell. He was the first to speak up, "We don't know how it happened, agent Bristow. It wasn't any of us, we've been too careful to be seen. I would suggest its breach on the side of whoever else is after the kid."

Still fuming, Jack responded quickly. If the kidnappers were moving there was no time for this, there was little more than an hour before total darkness and they might have leave the villa before then. "That kid has a name, agent Richardson, and I will remind you not to assume anything. Just because they have not retaliated in any way doesn't mean you have not been discovered," he chided gruffly.

Sufficiently cowed, Richardson fell silent for the time being. Another of the agents, Beth Hart, had been on surveillance detail and now she interrupted the two men to effectively halt any potential argument with, "Of the 12 inside the house 3 of the men just left in an unmarked car. Your daughter wasn't with them. That leaves just 9 to guard her," she added, in case the others couldn't do the math. She propped her glasses on the top of her head and a couple of tense seconds passed until she spoke again. "Uh…agent Bristow, I have a visual on your daughter. I think she's with the woman from the airport."

Jack did not need to be told twice, in one quick stride he was at the small monitor that Beth had been viewing. There she was, in the garden tossing a big red ball to the unidentified woman. Sydney was smiling. He felt a tremendous amount of relief and his worries lifted. He was seeing her again after all this time, alive and seemingly well and happy. He wanted to rush in and scoop her up there and then but caution and a greater reasoning stopped him. If he went there now he would, in all probability, be shot and he would never have this chance again; he was not going to blow it.

He only wished he could get a better look at the woman, burn her image into his mind so that he could find and put her away later on. She turned to the side slightly and through the fuzziness of the video image caught a glimpse of her smile. For a second his heart almost skipped a beat, she could almost be mistaken for Laura.

Beth broke his thought process. "They're moving her."

"She was in the garden a second ago!" Zolokov barked down the radio. Bushes and trees lined the perimeter of the garden; the Russian operative was hidden behind the metal spiked fence that was just beyond the foliage. "I can't…" he shifted to the side, "no wait. I have her in my sights again. The dark haired woman is taking her back inside and two men are now with them; that leaves 7 more throughout the house."

Irina listened carefully from her place inside a sleek blue jaguar she had parked three houses down from the villa, before responding. "Get your men into position," she ordered and looked into the rearview mirror to apply another coat of lipstick as she checked the van some distance behind her. "And keep the CIA off my back – don't shoot to kill," Irina instructed before starting the engine and driving up to the villa.

Once there she stepped out into the fading sunlight. Irina was unrecognizable, of course. Her usual thick brown hair was now a platinum blonde and piled on top of her head in a fancy do that was hardly worth the effort, it was a wig and it itched like crazy. Black sunglasses covered light green eyes, and matched the leather pants she wore. A light jacket befitting the weather, over a red, shimmering thin strapped top completed the ensemble. "Nancy Adshead" faced the house, she could feel eyes on her from all sides as she sauntered up to the front door and rapped upon it. The clothing she wore was sultry on her and she knew it, the plus side being it would not hinder her should she need to fight her way back out.

The door was opened and a bushy bearded man pushing 50 let his eyes roam over her before he spoke, "something I can do for you?" he was Russian without a doubt, but despite being in Rome did not bother to attempt the language.

She worked it to her advantage and, affecting a ditzy tone with an American accent replied. "I'm just so glad you speak English! Do you know how much of a pain it is doing this job and not being able to understand what people want you to do?"

The man cocked an eyebrow and replied. "Maybe it would be better for you to move to a place you know the language of, da?"

"Well," she twirled a few strands of blonde hair around a finger. "I just wanted to get to meet come exotic people," "Nancy" said coyly. She leant against the doorway and peered inside, "So, we gonna get started?"

He chuckled and mimicked her movement, shaking his head. "Now, what are you talking about?" he folded his hairy, muscular arms across his broad chest.

"Nancy" laughed and tilted her head to one side. "Well somebody called from this address. Said they were looking for entertainment," she explained. "All you gotta do is sit back and relax," she slipped past and eyed the Russian provocatively. It was all about first impressions.

"They can't be planning on going just yet," agent Hart observed.

Richardson nodded and watched as the door closed behind the guard and Nancy. "Must get a lot of mileage," he commented, earning a disgusted look from Beth. "I was talking about the car!"

"Speaking of which; run a trace on it. I want to know who that woman is," Jack spoke directly to Beth Hart. "The rest of you get into position."

"Why do we have to leave so soon?" Sydney all but whined as she followed Yelena up the stairs to her room, she was flanked by two goons that looked as they had had one too many bar fights, and their noses acquainted with too many fists. It prompted an innocent question from her when she stopped to face them, "how did your noses get so funny?"

One of the brutes sneered . "And this kid is supposed to be a next generation soldier? She does not even know a battled scar when she sees one," he pushed her forward up the stairs after her aunt who had entered one of the rooms on the first floor, out of earshot of the others. "Don't ask questions, brat. Be a good little girl and go to your room."

Sydney glared at him and retorted as she turned around. "I think you walked into a door."

Behind the two bodyguards Irina seethed, but looked on with pride as her daughter stood up to them both; giving back as good as she could considering her small stature. She watched carefully as they guided her, none too carefully, up the stairs. Sydney was safe and soon would be back with her.

On the first floor Sydney headed into her room where she lay down on the bed in the middle of the left-hand wall. Yelena sat down beside her, "I wish we did not have to leave," she murmured.

Sydney propped herself up on the pillows and replied too solemnly for one so young. "Why don't we stay? I want to stay here with you, and we can bring babushka here."

"You know why," her aunt replied sadly.

She nodded. "Because the bad people will get me; are they coming now, tyotya Yelena?"

Yelena ran her fingers through the child's hair, just like her mother used to do to her and Katya and Irina when they needed to be soothed and calmed. "Da, I think so, babuchka."

The brute of a guard that had argued with Sydney downstairs entered the room. "A car is waiting, Yelena. You will leave first."

She stood and stared him down. "I came and allowed Sydney to come on the condition we were not seperated!"

He shrugged in a 'don't care' attitude. "I have my orders, if you don't listen to mine I have no compunctions about killing you to make things easier," he scoffed threateningly.

Sydney had gotten off the bed by this time; she took Yelena's hand. "Don't worry, I'll stay here," she held up her arms to be hugged, which her aunt duly did.

"Do what they say. I will see you at the airport," she promised.

The bodyguard led her away.

The man that had opened the door to "Nancy" would, if he was conscious, wish he had told her to get lost. He currently lay below 7 steps that led into an unlit basement, the door to which was now locked. He would not be waking up anytime soon; when he did he would wish that he had not.

Irina tossed the key into the bin, adjusted her top, and slipped the man's gun into her jacket pocket. That done she stepped out of the kitchen and quietly into the living room where, 5 feet in front of her, she spotted the less vocal of the bodyguards she had seen with Sydney earlier. She only wished she could get her hands on the other one. He did not hear her near silent approach and barely moaned as she smashed his head against the wooden coffee table he had been standing over. He was just another that would wake with a mountain of a migraine. As yet she did not use the gun, it would cause too much of a commotion.

Zolokov was under orders to move in only if necessary, the same went for his men. They were sufficient at their jobs, but trigger-happy, Irina did not want Sydney caught in a crossfire.

She moved forward to the stairs and laid her right hand upon the polished banister. Irina stepped onto the bottom stair as a smoke grenade crashed through the front window. The havoc she had been trying to avoid, ensued.

"She was taken to the first room on the left side of the first floor; we'll cover you!" agent Richardson shouted over the sound of breaking glass. Gas masks protected them from the smoke filled room as they entered one cautious step at a time until they secured the immediate area. The men in the house were unprepared for this; they had been told there was still time to leave before any form of attack. They currently stayed clear of the living room. They had the weapons with which to fight but with the gas had no way of knowing completely who the correct target was. Without any ventilation the room would not clear. For now the agents of SD-6 had the advantage. How long that would last was anyone's guess.

The path clear, Jack darted up the stairs.

The bedroom was empty. The window had bars across it and some distance behind the closed door was a contingent of supposed CIA agents.

A door opened; it was the bedroom door. Irina heard the unmistakable click of a gun, safety off. She knew who it would be so there was no reason to turn around and identify the gunman. A fathers instinct ensured he would come here after securing the downstairs room, it could be considered a flaw but she could not fault him as she had done the same thing after all. She heard the sound of some kind of object dropping to the ground and in her peripheral vision saw a discarded gas mask. The only thing on her side was the fact that it was dark within the room; she had killed the light before he entered for this eventuality. She knew he would have been on the CIA team. For a few seconds her heart hammered; and then he broke the silence.

"Put your hands up and turn around, slowly," he said brusquely. Jack would be visually searching the room for Sydney even as he stayed by the door. Irina did not comply. "If you do not I will shoot you; that would be unfortunate for both of us, I would not get the answers I need and you would be dead."

Well when he put it like that.

Yelena knew something was amiss when Sydney's unpleasant bodyguard produced a gun. For a minute she deluded herself into thinking it was for her protection, she knew that was not the case when he aimed it at her.

"Your boss did not give you any new orders, did he?" she queried as her gut did a good impression of a twirling roller coaster.

"Nyet. But if he knew what I did I am certain he would give me the order to put you out of your misery," he hawked and spat and looked very proud of himself.

Yelena appeared interested. "And what do you know?"

"That you are nosey. That you try to find out things that you have no business knowing," the bodyguard cocked the gun. Behind them shots were fired and shouts were heard.

"Your bosses will not be glad if Sydney is killed," she berated.

He smirked and appeared nonchalant. "I have heard she is capable of looking after herself.

Behind his wary brown eyes Irina saw worry and fury combined; the latter aimed at her, he though she had a hand in all of this. Her hands were now raised; she posed no visible threat for the moment. If she just had an opening she could take it and disarm him.

"I am going to ask you some questions, you will answer them truthfully," Jack directed. He watched her closely, even in the dark he could see that she had a presence; there was a stubborn air about her, a defiance behind all that make-up and big hair. "Who are you?"

There was a pause before the answer. Thinking of a lie? "My name is Nancy Adshead, I work in Rome as an entertainer."

"I thought you would say that. Your car is a rental and is under that name, a name that does not exist in Rome," he sounded disappointed, as though he thought she could come up with something better than that.

Irina feigned frustration with him. "Never heard of having a stage name before?"

"I don't suppose it would come as much of a shock if I said I didn't believe a word of what you're saying?" his eyes became harder, his face cold. "Where is Sydney Bristow?" he demanded.

"You should not have snooped, Yelena," the bodyguard tutted, terribly displeased. "Is betrayal a trait that runs in your family?" he did not wait for a response. "Your sister was killed for crossing over, for loving her American family more than he country. And now you could just not trust her Agency either. They gave you a niece to look after, sent her to nice school but you…" he punctuated that by pointing at her with the forefinger of his unarmed hand ,"you had to investigate!" he said. "But you were not as careful as your sister."

Yelena's face darkened. "Obviously Irina was not careful enough or she would be alive."

He did not look too concerned; his answer made that plain. "No matter, you will soon join her."

A shot rang out.

This time Irina's response was one of complete honesty but she doubted he would believe her. Despite his cool façade, the calm countenance and authorative air he would be desperate to find Sydney. As she was, really. "I don't know where she is."

"And why are you in here?" there was still an utter lack of trust, the gun that was still aimed at her head was evidence of that.

"I saw a kid earlier. When all hell broke loose down there I wanted to make sure she was okay; but the room was empty when I got here," she told him, still in character. It was rather plausible and he was prone to believe her but for the slight bulge of a gun in her jacket pocket.

The sight of a smoking gun was not the most unusual sight for her to see, but Yelena stood open mouthed when she the shooter; just a little girl of 7 years old. She was partially hidden in the dark, behind one of the hedges that extended beyond the garden. The moonlight reflected off the silver butterfly studs that she wore. Sydney looked pale to Yelena as she came forward and took the gun from her niece.

"Did I kill him?" the child looked aghast and gulped as she looked past her aunt to stare at the fallen man. Sydney thought back to her lessons, what her teacher; the psychologist had said. It is necessary for you all to learn to compartmentalize, for those of you that do not know, compartmentalize means…

"Sydney…" Yelena said, speaking softly so as not to spook her. She took the gun and followed Sydney's gaze to see the slow rise and fall of the injured bodyguards chest. "His is alive," she noted the relief in the young girls face.

"He…he was going to kill you," Sydney whispered. She had done what she had been taught, to protect, but this was quite different from lessons. "I got scared when the bad men broke into the house, I…I saw a woman come for me so I sneaked out into the corridor and got away. No one saw me," she hastily added.

In the distance Yelena heard Russian voices, the rest of the team were coming. "You did well to come to me," she assured her young charge. She turned Sydney around to face the incoming men instead of the injured bodyguard. As they began to walk away Yelena halted and fired a single shot. Now there was one last person to worry about.

Jack did not notice the tiny red dot that illuminated a small spot of his shoulder; he was too busy concentrating on the woman before him. Irina saw it. If she was ever looking for a distraction, this was it. "You're being targeted," she stated. "There is a sniper aiming at your right shoulder, that could change." Jack glanced across ever so quickly to where she indicated.

Well look at that, she was finally telling the truth.

She took the moment to knock the gun out of his hand, but his grasp on the weapon was firmer than she thought and she only succeeded in catching him off balance. Irina backhanded him across the face, he came back at her, swinging his armed hand towards her head. She sidestepped and instead Jack caught her across the neck. That was going to bruise. She kicked out to the side, her heeled boot slammed into his midsection to temporarily wind him; the bulletproof vest he wore absorbed most of the impact and he recovered faster than she anticipated.

He fired in her direction, the shots would undoubtedly alert the other agents. Irina dived out of the way and overturned a table, felt tip pens scattered onto the carpeted floor.

She produced her own gun, the one she had taken from the man who had opened the frontdoor. She took aim over the table and looked in the mirror opposite her to get a decent view of the area where Jack was. Somebody else fired before she had a chance to and Jack went down.

LOS ANGELES

When Jack eventually arrived back home, his shoulder bandaged and no longer in pain thanks to medication, Laura was sleeping, curled up in the centre of the bed, sheets twisted around her. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hand across her bare stomach until she stirred. She awoke, sleepy eyed and smiled lazily when she saw him.

"How long have you been back?" she reached across to the bedside table and switched on the lamp.

"Not long," he answered and stifled a yawn. Planes were hardly good for sleeping on, especially with so much to think about on an already trouble mind. She eyed his bandaged shoulder that was just visible under his shirt, concern in her eyes, "it's nothing. Nothing to worry about," he said to ease any worry she might have.

She sat up and kneeled on the bed behind him, slipped the shirt off and threw it to floor. She rubbed her hands to warm them before setting them on his bare back, gently massaging the muscles. "I suppose it would be a stupid question to ask how your day way?"

There was no need to tell her about the attempt to find Sydney; it would only make things harder for her to know of another failed attempt. But this time was so close! "I don't want to talk about work," he told her gently, closing the matter.

She paused in her ministrations. "Jack…" Laura began, "there's something I need to tell you…"

The phone rang and, with a frustrated sigh, she answered it. It was the cell phone, "yes?"

Don't even think about telling him anything.

They were listening.

Translations

Da - Yes.
Zdes', tyotya - here, auntie.
Ochen' dobry - very good.
Spasiba - Thank you.
Kharasho - OK.
Babushka - Grandmother.
Babuchka - Butterfly.