Disclaimer: I do not any of the characters, except for the original ones, so please don't sue. I have no money to give you, okay? Okay…
A/N- Plagiarism is not flattery. Its very annoying and irritating and it angers me. Use your own creative juices, please. Yes, I know who you are. I will hunt you down if you don't stop. Okay? Okay.
Now going back to the story...CHAPTER THIRTEEN
(1993, Germany)
"Irina, we have a guest."
She didn't stand up. Instead, she angled her head towards the doorway and waited.
A few minutes later, Gerard Cuvee entered the room, followed by Alexander Khasinau.
"Irina." He smiled at her and opened his arms, expecting a welcoming hug from her.
"Alexander." She greeted and gave him a hug. "It's been too long."
"Two years is not too long when you compare it to the six years you disappeared on us."
Irina laughed but took a step back. She looked at Cuvee and then to Khasinau. "You picked a wrong time to visit, Alexander. I will not be staying long."
He chuckled. "Of course. I forgot that you don't like working during weekends."
Gerard handed her a glass of wine. "Irina is inviting you to see her new home. After it's finished, of course."
Irina smiled and sipped her drink. She sat down and leaned back on the leather chair.
"Where is this home?" He asked, interested.
"It's only a summer home. In Italy."
"Italy? I'm assuming fronting the beach?"
She smiled wider. "No. A countryside, actually."
Alexander chuckled once again. "Style, Irina. You have style."
Irina set down the wineglass on the table. "Thank you." She said as she pushed back an errant strand of hair away from her face that managed to escape her tight bun.
It's been three years since she lost contact with Jack and Sydney. They think she's dead. They believe that she and the twins are dead. She also hasn't heard any news on Nadia's whereabouts and this is frustrating her. Everything about her life now is frustrating her.
"...Irina?"
She blinked. She didn't hear what he said. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Alexander smiled. "I was just asking Gerard about your children."
Irina stiffened a bit. Her lips thinned and anger flashed in her eyes. It was brief and was masked quickly, but Alexander saw it.
"I gave them up for adoption." She said calmly, even after seeing the menace in his smile.
He curiously looked at her. Irina didn't break when she was tortured three years ago, even when they threatened that they will kill her children. She somehow knew that the KGB will not hurt them. She said that she will never abandon them. She told them that before and they knew she'll do anything to keep her word. But this news...
"Adoption? That is very much unlike you." Irina thinks more with her heart, more with her emotion.
"They will be a burden. I'm better off with them." Her eyes are blank, emotionless.
Alexander looked at Gerard, who grinned at him, victorious.
Cuvee refilled Irina and Khasinau's glasses with wine. He raised his for a toast.
"To Irina. Welcome back."
-x-x-x-
Sunlight crept in the room, beaming through the small gap between the red velvet curtains. It has been closed for the past few days, hiding the bedroom and its occupant from the outside world.
Consciousness began to drift in her brain. Irina has been asleep for the past two days. Her body is demanding that she wake up now.
The soft, warm blanket was the first thing she became aware of. The supple, comfortable bed and the plush pillows came next. She hasn't felt this luxury ever since she was thrown in that dark, cold cell.
'Wait, I'm supposed to be still inside that dark, cold cell.' She thought. The idea of dreaming luxury amidst suffering and torture is wrong and dangerous.
Her eyes flew open. A beautiful chandelier greeted her a good morning.
She tried to pull herself up. As she looked around, disconcertion and confusion filled her. She is reclined on a king sized bed with a white bedspread and five more fluffy pillows. In front of her is a beautiful linoleum fireplace with an expensive-looking watercolor painting hanging above it. A plush chair sits on one corner, beside a tall bookshelf. An antique lamp stood beside an equally ancient coffee table. The pricey Persian carpet covered the wood finished floor and absorbs most of the sounds in the room. At the far right of the room, the slightly opened velvet curtains hide the bullet proof French doors that lead to the balcony. At the other end of the room are double doors made out of oak, with handcrafted titanium doorknobs.
'I'm home…'
Irina leaned back on the pillows and allowed herself to absorb the comfort it brought. Her wrists, back muscles and legs are aching ever since she pulled herself up to sitting position.
She thought the whole rescue was a dream. But if it wasn't, then why is she here? She clearly heard Jack's voice and if she was taken by the CIA, she would have been in a cell.
'Oh no… did they…?'
Her heart began to race as she began to recollect bits and pieces of that night. Jack was there, and she is quite sure he was there. But so was her son.
'Impossible. Nathan wouldn't be doing these kinds of things.'
She threw off the covers and swung her legs at the edge of the bed. Irina noticed that she is wearing blue pajamas. She wondered where the person who changed her clothes got it. She doesn't have any pajamas. Or nightwear for that matter.
She tried to stand but her knees wobbled violently. She held on to the handcrafted side table to keep herself from falling forward. It took a few minutes before she got steady on her feet, but she found out that her sense of balance is out of place. If she tries to walk without any support, she'll fall flat on her face.
Irina dejectedly sighed. She barely stood up during those months of capture. The only time she was able to walk was when they dragged her out of her corner and transported her to the torture room. They once tried to chain both her wrists and ankles in the early weeks, but found out that it was too much of a hassle especially when she started to kick the guards.
Sitting down, she pulled up her legs toward the bed. Her stomach grumbled.
She hasn't felt this sensation for a long time.
Frustration was beginning to boil inside her when the double doors opened. A man dressed in casual, white, long sleeved polo and dark trousers entered, pushing a breakfast cart. When he saw her sitting on the bed, he smiled.
"Good morning." He is very cheerful. He crossed the room and opened the velvet curtains.
Sunlight burst in the room, bathing them with its radiance. Irina had to shield her eyes from the brightness. She's been used to the dark and the sun used to be something from her imagination.
He opened the French doors. The chirping of the birds and the barking of the dogs drifted inside the room.
"It's too bright." She said her words softly and slowly but he heard her objection loud and clear.
"Nonsense, doctor's orders." He looked at her again. Irina lost a lot of weight and is so thin. Her seemingly hollow face and the unhealthy hue of her skin worried the doctor. She looks very fragile. He knows that she was abused, both physically and mentally. But they didn't see any scars from the physical maltreatment.
"How are you feeling? You've been asleep for two days." He went towards the cart and lifted the tray.
As he walked towards her, Irina studied his face. He acquired a lot more wrinkles ever since the last time they saw each other, but his distinguished gait is still there. His hair, though…
"I'm fine. What did you do to your hair?"
An amused smile pulled his lips as he shrugged. He gracefully set the tray on her lap and sat on the chair next to her bed. He watched as she looked at the food prepared for her.
There are two big pieces of French toast, a bowl of delicious-smelling oatmeal, a bowl of fresh fruits and a glass of milk.
Irina stared at the tray. She might be hungry but she will not be able to eat all of it. The task seems a little impossible.
"You're expected to finish everything on that tray. Including the milk."
She looked at him. "Benjamin-"
"No buts. Eat." The marine officer in him surfaced, as if he is giving orders to a subordinate. "I'm quite sure that you don't want to stay in this… weakened position for long."
He could only smile when Irina immediately took one of the French toast and began to nibble it. Being weak and helpless is something Irina abhors.
She looked at him discreetly. She has so many questions and she hopes that Benjamin Petersen can answer all of them. But she waited for a while before doing any inquiring.
"How did you find me?" she softly asked.
"We intercepted intel."
"Did you lead the team?"
Benjamin Petersen glanced at her. "Yes. I did."
"How did you get your men and weapons?" he leaned back on the chair and closed his eyes as she asked him the question.
"Connections. I still have them you know."
Irina scoffed. "I thought you're out of this game."
He smiled. "You thought wrong." He opened his eyes and leaned forward. "Eat." He said as he patted her feet.
Irina took a bigger bite on the toast. She was hungrier than she thought. "Were Nathan and Sofya with you back there?"
"No." His response was too quick that it made her suspicious. She looked at him and raised a brow, but he just smiled. "If you think I'm lying, ask your children."
That made her smile back at him. "Well, if you put it that way, I'm going to guess that they did go with you."
"Just in the plane, Irina."
She shook her head and continued eating. The toast is delicious and when she finished the first one, she quickly started on working on the second one. She finished it much faster. The oatmeal was next.
Irina took the spoon. Her fingers buckled and she lost her grip. It clattered on the tray noisily.
She tried again. The same thing happened.
"Take you time." Benjamin said and stood up slowly and walked towards the balcony.
Irina's eyes furrowed. The only times she had a chance to use her hands were to defend herself from the guards. Using her hands to eat was not an option. They practically force-fed her everyday, though she didn't exactly swallow everything they shoved in her mouth.
She took the spoon again, but this time slower and with more concentration. Her hands shook a bit as she scooped a portion of oatmeal.
Benjamin stepped out to the terrace. He can hear shouts and laughter of two teenagers, a sound he rarely heard in the past year or so.
"Iya, it's just a puppy!"
"Puppy my ass! It weighs more than me!"
"Fine, okay, it's not a puppy. But it's a St. Bernard. They are tranquil dogs. He's not going to maul you."
"He squished me!"
He looked down and saw Sofya, wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans standing out in the greenness that is the leaves of the oak tree, sitting in one of the branches. The tree is directly in front of the room.
She climbed higher when her brother didn't make any move to hold the dog.
"Get down from there, you'll injure yourself."
"I'll go down if you promise that you'll hold that dog."
"No."
She climbed even higher until she and Benjamin Petersen were almost eye to eye.
"Sofya, what are you doing?" he asked, both amused and concerned with her plight. He kept alert, though. You might never know when an accident might strike.
She was startled, but kept her balance on the branches.
"Is mom awake?"
He nodded his head. Her face lighted up.
"Can I just jump from here to the balcony?"
Benjamin raised a brow. "Of course not. Get down from the tree and go up the stairs, just like a normal person would do."
He watched as Sofya climbed down and jumped off the tree, surprising her brother and the dog. When she told him that their mother is awake, they both scrambled towards the house, leaving their pet outside.
He walked inside the room and found Irina halfway done with her oatmeal. He observed her. Sometimes, he wonders how Irina managed everything to go as normally as possible in this part of her life.
"Where are the children?"
"Yours or mine?" he asked jokingly. Running footsteps thundered in the hallway and stopped by the doors. Nathan arrived first.
"Mama." The boy greeted and hurried towards her, sitting at the edge of the bed. Sofya shoved him the moment she caught up with him.
"You're so unfair." She hissed but her brother just stuck his tongue out and then grinned at her.
Irina felt tears stinging her eyes the moment she saw the bickering teens in front of her. She also felt a mixture of happiness and sadness within her. Sydney and Nadia aren't here. And they will probably not welcome her the same way as the twins would.
Nathan, who grew two inches or so in the last six months, is looking more like his father everyday. It pains her to see Jack's face in her son, but she is thankful that Nathan acts the way his father acted when he was young. Good natured, easy going, relaxed. His serious side appears once in a while, but... her only wish is that he'll never act the way his father is acting today.
Sofya, on the other hand, looks nothing like Nathan except for the color of their eyes and skin. The rest of her features are a mixture of her parents. Though she couldn't deny that her daughter has the facial structure and the temperament of a Derevko, Irina can see that sometimes, the way she expresses her anger is akin to how Jack conveys it.
Her daughter rolled her eyes. "You're so childish." She muttered and then childishly stuck her tongue out at him. Nathan laughed.
Her children. All those suffering… it was for them.
Tears flowed out of her eyes.
The moment they fell down her cheeks, Nathan hugged and kissed her. "It's okay. We missed you."
His sister followed suit after overcoming her wariness with the tears. Seeing people cry unnerves her.
Irina hugged Sofya tightly. She felt her stiffen a bit and then eased.
"I've missed you too." She said as she wiped her cheeks. She looked at Benjamin, who smiled and nodded his head.
"I'll leave you three alone." He walked out and closed the door.
x-x-x-
(11.30 pm, Spain)
As her bulletproof Mercedes sped through the countryside, Irina undid her bun and relaxed.
'Three weeks. It's been too long...'
She's been moving from country to country ever since the fall of the USSR, but spends the longest in Spain. Cuvee offered that she live with him in his posh luxurious house in Monaco. She declined. Cuvee is quite possessive. She also distrusts him, one of the reasons why she lied about her twin children. Knowing that they are not in her care will keep him busy.
She will not allow Gerard Cuvee to use her children against her. He treated them like experiments when they were kept away from her. What will stop him from doing it again?
'Thank god for Andrian's help.'
Irina looked out to the window and noticed that they are slowing down.
"Martin, what's wrong?"
Her driver/bodyguard looked back to her from the driver's seat.
"Just a little problem, Madame. No need to worry. Just please don't leave the car. "
Her twenty-something aide, excellently trained in weapons and hand to hand combat couldn't hide his panic well.
Irina raised a brow. Martin opened his door and stepped out, leaving her inside.
"Martin!"
She took her gun from a hidden compartment and followed him out. He pulled over a grassy area, a few kilometers away from the villa.
"Why did... Oh my god..."
A few kilometers away, she saw dark smoke rising in the clear, starless sky.
The villa is on fire.
"Drive me home, now!" Pure panic and anger was present in her tone.
"Madame, there are men extinguishing the fire. You must stay here for your safety-"
"I AM MORE INTERESTED IN THE SAFETY OF THE OCCUPANTS OF THE HOUSE!"
Irina walked towards the driver's seat. "Give me the keys." she ordered as she looked at him.
Martin stared at her. "B-b-but I was ordered to protect you." he stammered fazed with the intensity of her glare.
"Its either you drive or I do."
Martin knows that he will be fired (or even killed) if he'll not listen to her orders. "Get in the car, please." he sighed as his boss got in quickly.
The drive was quick. Martin didn't give her the chance to bite her nails.
She quickly stepped out of the car. One of her men ran towards her.
"The fire's out. The east wing was the only one affected-"
She stared at him. The glint in her eyes is so frightening that he couldn't describe it.
"We're still looking for them. We found five dead bodies-" He wasn't able to finish because she ran inside.
Irina knows where they are. Her heart is beating so fast and so hard that it is the only thing that she can hear.
She ran up the stairs, up to the fourth floor and began calling out their names.
Halfway through the hallway, she almost tripped on Maria, the teenage daughter of the nanny, sprawled on the floor. Irina checked her pulse. She's still alive.
"I'll attend to her, Ms. Derevko."
She looked at the speaker and saw Martin already attending to the girl.
Irina stood up and continued with her search. It ended at the hallway, the room where the twins rarely play in.
She ran inside and stopped almost immediately. Time stopped as she took in her surroundings.
Irina could only stare at what she's seeing. Men the size of giants were sprawled on the floor bleeding. Some were dead; some were unconscious (but mostly dead). The flickering of the fluorescent light illuminated the carnage.
A figure stood out amidst the sea of dead bodies. A girl of about six years old is sitting on the floor, her clothes and half of her face covered with blood. Another child is lying on her lap almost with the same state as the girl's except that his face is covered with cloth drenched in blood.
'How... Is this the result of the experiments?'
"Ms. Derevko..."
She came back to her senses when she heard her name.
"Call for a doctor. Quickly!"
Irina didn't know if she spoke to him in English or Russian. She didn't even know who she spoke to. She really doesn't care. All she knows is those two children need her.
"Mommy..."
"Iya are you okay?" she quickly took off her coat and wrapped the little girl with it. She tried to ease her brother off her when somebody helped her.
Martin. Again. He lifted the boy and hurried out. Irina followed him, carrying Sofya.
"Mommy, Natey's face is bleeding."
"Yes, sweetie. I know."
"My face is bleeding too. It hurts."
Irina could hear the fear in her child's voice. Her hazel eyes convey more of it. She clutched her tighter, to give the child a temporary sense of security.
"Everything will be okay, sweetie. You and Nate will be okay."
"But we killed all of them. I've never heard screams like them. But they hurt me and Nate... They deserved it."
A look of horror passed Irina's face. If she doesn't do anything about this incident, both of her children will be haunted by this memory.
Several of her men caught up with them, intending to bring them to safety. Martin already went ahead.
"You'll be okay, sweetie. I promise."