Jack walked quickly through the passageway leading to the central lobby of the facility. He would visit Irina again after his meeting with Kendall. Her last words replayed in his head. "I never had to pretend."

So lost was he in the warmth of this memory, he almost missed seeing his old friend, Angus McPherson. Mac. Jack hadn't seen him in two years. Not that he hadn't had the opportunity in the intervening months. He'd deliberately avoided Mac because of that last meeting in Germany. In their thirty plus years of friendship, Mac had always been there for him. He had witnessed the high point of his wedding day and Sydney's birth, and the depths of his despair, with "Laura's" death and the truth of her betrayal. Over the years, he'd been the only person Jack felt he could trust completely.

Their last meeting was two years ago, Jack remembered, in Berlin. They had talked for a while. Actually, Mac had done most of the talking. Jack remembered how weary he'd felt that day. He'd learned of Sydney's recruitment by Sloane earlier that year and it weighed heavily on him. Mac knew something was wrong, but Jack couldn't bring himself to tell his friend that he'd been such a failure as a father. It was bad enough that Mac had witnessed his failure as a husband. They argued. Mac wanted him to see a shrink. He had refused. The ones who'd interrogated him during his six months of solitary confinement had been enough for a lifetime. Besides, he knew his own inadequacies well enough without having a stranger delve into them.

Jack walked to where his friend was standing and called out his name. Mac was shorter than he by about 5 inches, a fact that his friend grumbled about frequently. Not that this had ever been a problem for him, Jack mused. There was something about Mac that drew people to him. They had been such opposites during their training days. He had been quiet and studious where Mac was open and friendly. Because they were both fresh from High School and the youngest of the recruits, the CIA paired them as roommates. They had become fast friends and allies against the hazing of the older recruits. Mac's friendly demeanor often fooled people; not realizing until too late that it disguised a will that was as strong as steel and body that had endured far more than the average man. Jack saw a new scar running under the jawbone. Mac had the reputation of having more lives than a cat, and Jack could well believe it. They had often been teamed together and encountered several close calls.

"Jack, I'd like you to meet someone." Mac was always introducing him to women. He'd gone out with a few, but none for very long.

When the CIA had approved his application to attend the local college, Mac had followed suit. There had been a parade of women at their college dorm, right from the beginning, all drawn there because of Mac. Perhaps that's why his relationships hadn't lasted very long. He knew the women liked him well enough, but they were more interested in his roommate.

The woman Mac had brought up this time was tall, dark haired, and vivacious. He felt his heart flip when she smiled at him. "Hi, I'm Laura. I just transferred in this semester and Mac here has decided to help me get acquainted with the entire student body." There was a hint of something foreign in her voice. "Mac tells me you are a genius and might help me with some of my math classes?" He was dumbfounded. She laughed at his expression. "I'm an English major in need," she had teased. "I hope you'll take pity on me and help."

He managed to tell her he'd be glad to help and she gave him her address and phone number. Once she was gone, Mac started laughing out loud. "Oh, Jack," he said, barely getting the words out between spasms of laughter. "I thought I taught you better than that." He joined Mac's laughter, knowing he'd looked like some lovesick teenager. She probably forgot about him the minute she'd walked out the dorm. Later that night, Mac finally confessed that Laura had actually sought him out because she wanted to meet his roommate.

Laura sat with him in the cafeteria the next day. Somehow she'd also managed to change the seating chart in the math class they shared, so that she was next to him. Eventually, he found the nerve to ask her out. Mac stopped introducing him to women.

From the day they met, Jack realized, his life revolved around her. Even in the twenty-one years he thought her dead, her presence was like a specter, shadowing his life. He saw her in Sydney. He smelled her in the scent of her clothes. He felt her in all the corners of their house. She was a part of the furniture they had purchased together and her presence still shared their bed. He'd tried to drown the memories with liquor, but it never quite worked. He threw himself into his job and still he remembered. He knew he should part with the all the reminders. He'd tried several times, but something always held him back. He hated himself for remembering and yet, he couldn't stop. He chastised himself for the photograph he kept in the bottom drawer of his study desk. He was angry at her and yet, he couldn't stop loving her.

She had said "I never had to pretend." Jack thought again. He felt happy.

Mac slapped him on the shoulder and brought him back to the present. He was just about to question Mac on his surprise visit, when Sydney arrived and reminded him of their meeting. It had been some time since Mac had seen Sydney and the picture Jack carried was several years old. He almost laughed at Mac's expression when Sydney reached up and kissed him on the cheek. The relief on his friends face when Sydney called him 'Dad' nearly did him in.

Kendall's interruption was the first discordant note of the day. A sense of foreboding wormed it's way through Jack's happiness. He had learned to trust his internal alarm bells and all of them were urgently ringing their warning. Sydney looked to him for answers and he had none.

She hooked her arm in his, as they followed Kendall and Mac. He saw her look up at him every once in while. He wanted to calm her worried glances, but something was shutting down inside him. He wanted to squeeze her hand and reassure her that everything was fine, but his hand seemed frozen at his side.

"Dad," he heard Sydney as though from a distance. "Please, don't go away again. Not now." He could hear the pleading in her voice. They stopped at the doorway to the conference room and he felt her grab his hand. Surprised, he looked down at her and saw her fear. Somehow, he willed his hand to squeeze and she looked up at him, a small spark of hope lighting her eyes.

Jack didn't see Irina at first. He noticed the 'interrogation' table at the front of the room. Five people were seated at the table set up on the dais. Three men and two women, he noted automatically. His body tensed at the sight. He had sat before several panels in his lifetime and all had been to his detriment. One had sent him to solitary confinement for six months. Then he shifted his gaze to the lone occupant opposite the panel. She was sitting quietly at a conference table, staring at some unknown spot on the wall behind the podium. The stillness of her body was disquieting. It was as though her body was present, but her mind and spirit were elsewhere. Irina seemed to be in another world and yet, he knew that she sensed his presence.

"I never had to pretend." The words came back to him again, only this time they took on a different meaning. His old insecurities started rising and he could feel the bitter taste in his mouth. "I never had to pretend." There, the words again. His brain pounded him with a thousand alternate meanings and none of them a declaration of love. Had he misunderstood?

Kendall touched him on the shoulder. "Jack, you and Sydney are to sit at the table over there, next to Derevko." He felt Sydney move toward her mother, but his own body refused to budge. Sydney turned back to him. Her eyes willed him to the table and somehow he managed to take his place beside his daughter.

The sound of the gavel brought the room to order. It was a simple sound, an opening call for the meeting to begin. So why did Jack feel each tap was a nail being driven further in to his heart?