Chapter Twenty-One

Los Angeles, Day 257

"Tell me about your daughter," the psychiatrist says.

Jack studies his hands as he considers what to say. "Sydney is – the best thing about my life."

"It must have been hard for you when she died."

"Of course it was."

"Can you tell me how you felt, those first few days?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" His hands clench into fists.

"I'm just trying to understand what drove you to work with your wife." A pause. "Ex-wife, rather."

Jack refrains from pointing out they're still married. "I'd rather not talk about her."

"You haven't denied that you were working together."

"I haven't confirmed it either."

"I see." She makes another note in his file. "Well, then, back to Sydney. My question still stands."

"How do you think I felt?"

"May I be frank with you, Agent Bristow?"

He resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"I think your daughter was your whole world," she continues. "I think losing her drove you to the edge of despair. I think you would have been willing to work with the devil himself to get revenge for her death."

Jack glances at the clock on the wall. "Our time's up, Doctor."

January, Vladivostok

"The point of being in hiding," Katya said, "is to stay out of sight."

Irina didn't glance up from her laptop. Katya stepped into the kitchen and walked to the table. She knelt on the floor next to Irina, then lifted the edge of Irina's shirt.

"Katya—"

Katya ran her fingers lightly over the bandage covering Irina's side. "I thought Elena didn't want to kill you."

"Maybe she's changed her mind." Irina shifted away from Katya, pulling her shirt down again to cover the bandage.

"Stupid suka." Katya rose and perched herself on the edge of the table. "What were you doing in Kuala Lumpur anyway?"

"I heard Cuvee was there." Irina powered down the laptop and pushed it away.

Katya grimaced. "What possible reason could you have for wanting to meet him?"

"I didn't go there to meet him. I'd heard he was meeting with Elena – which he was."

"I would have gone for you, if you'd asked me to."

"And blown your cover."

"Better that than getting yourself killed."

"I'm not dead, am I?"

"Not for lack of trying."

They looked at each other. Katya smiled first, then Irina, and before long, both were laughing. Ever since they were young girls, Katya had always been able to make Irina laugh.

"You have more lives than a damn cat, Irisha." Katya hopped off the table and hunted through the cupboards for a glass.

Irina rested her head in her hands, her elbows on the table, serious again. "I'm tired, Katya."

Katya took two glasses from the cupboard and filled them both with vodka. "We'll find Nadia."

"Maybe she's safer if she's never found." She thought of the stone slab she'd destroyed outside Tehran and sighed. "Safe from Sloane, anyway."

"He thinks she's his?"

"Yes."

Katya put one of the glasses in front of Irina. She downed her own drink, then refilled her glass before putting the bottle on the table. "Jack will hate you if he hears about her from Sloane."

"Jack already hates me."

"Is that why you've left him languishing in prison? To punish him for hating you?"

Irina sat up straight and glared at Katya. "No!"

Katya chuckled. "Oh, relax. You're too easy to tease, you know that?"

"Katya, don't." She leaned back in the chair and reached for her drink. Her thoughts returned to Jack; she could well imagine his situation right now. She was no stranger to solitary confinement either.

She wondered, too, how much longer he would last before he gave in and told them where to find her. As long as he believed she was looking for Sydney's killers, he would say nothing. But he didn't know Sydney was alive.

She needed to get him out of there, even if the price was her own life.