CHAPTER FIFTY
24 December 1986
The wooden floor softly creaked under her bare feet and she immediately stilled to make it stop. She could hear soft music coming from downstairs and she wondered if Santa had arrived with their gifts.
She tiptoed towards the stairs and squeezed her little body behind the banister so that she could be hidden from view. Her brown eyes peeked from behind the wooden railing and found her mother and father in the middle of the living room, dancing to the music. Her mother's head is resting on her father's shoulder and they're holding hands.
A little frown formed in her face. If her mother and father are in the living room, how can Santa come in, put their gifts under the Christmas tree, eat the cookies and drink the milk they gave him?
"Nadia, what are you doing?" the whisper was sharp and she knew that when she turn around, her older sister would be standing in the corridor with her hands on her hips.
"I'm waiting." Nadia answered. Her sister made a face before walking towards her. Both girls could hear their mother's soft laughter tinkling in the living room.
"If mama and papa are there, will Santa still come?" Nadia asked in a soft voice.
Sydney nodded her head, "Mommy and Daddy are friends with Santa. He already gave them an early Christmas gift, so maybe our gifts are already there." She added, referring to their future brother or sister growing in their mother's stomach.
The sisters craned their necks to see if there are any colored boxes under the tree which is, unfortunately, being hidden from view by the sofa.
"Sweetheart, is it my imagination or do I see two little girls by the stairs?" their father asked and looked at their direction.
They've been found out! Sydney dragged her away from the stairs and into their room.
"Quick. Pretend to be asleep!" her sister exclaimed as they jumped to their beds.
A few minutes later, they heard footsteps coming towards their room. Sydney and Nadia pulled up their blankets and tried not to move (or breathe).
The door opened. The light from the hallway streamed inside.
"See, I told you, you were imagining things." Nadia heard her mother say. She placed a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles from coming out. They fooled their father.
The door closed. Nadia let out her laugh. Then, a thought crossed her mind, "Syd, what if Santa doesn't come because we fooled papa?"
"Don't worry, Nadia. Santa only checks his lists twice before he leaves North Pole."
She gingerly opened her eyes, afraid that having a wonderful dream, she will be faced with the harsh reality that she's been kidnapped and is being forced to write things that are stored in her brain— things that have preexisted her.
White walls greeted her, but unlike the white walls in her cell (which had a tinge of yucky green), this one seemed to… smile at her. It was a weird description, but that's what she's feeling.
She took a deep breath and rolled on her back. She groaned in relief when she saw that the ceilings are white too and not the murky brown ceiling she had in her cell. The probability that she had really seen Weiss smiling at her in that room seemed to grow greater by the minute.
"Nadia?"
Her mother's voice caught her attention and she swiftly looked towards the sound of her tone.
"Mama." She greeted and tried to sit up, "How are you?" she asked. Her mother looks so tired.
"I'm fine, sweetheart." Irina answered and smiled at her, "Are you hungry? Thirsty? You've been asleep for almost two days."
Nadia nodded her head, "I am a little thirsty."
Her mother stood up and went towards the far end of the room to get the pitcher of water, "How are you feeling?"
"I feel much better knowing that I'm not going to be injected with that red serum again."
Irina handed her the glass of water and sat on the chair, "You don't feel weak? Or maybe a headache?"
Her daughter shook her head, "No. I feel okay, actually." She raised the glass to her lips and the water disappeared after a few seconds. She didn't realize how thirsty she was.
"Do you want more water?"
Nadia handed her the glass, "Yes, please. Thank you." As her mother took another trip to the table, she asked, "Is Iya okay?"
Irina's glanced at her, "She's still asleep." She said and then went back to her side, "But the doctor's said she's okay, so…"
She observed her mother's face. All she could see were lines made by worry and fatigue. Even if she couldn't detect the lie, she could feel it. She's been around a lot of people who could hide their emotions well. She knows when a person lies—sometimes she feels that she's a walking lie detector.
Irina sat beside her on the bed and watched as her daughter drank the water once again. Nadia placed the glass on the side table before giving her a consoling smile.
"She's going to be alright."
Irina embraced her, "I'm so glad you're okay." She whispered.
After a few minutes, they pulled away from each other. Irina smoothed the hair that was covering her daughter's face and sighed.
"Where's Syd?" Nadia inquired and changed the subject as she leaned on the headboard.
"She's with your father and brother. They'll be coming later." Irina answered, "Agent Weiss is outside. Do you want me to get him?"
"Will you mind if he's here?"
An amused smile appeared in her mother's lips, "Of course not. Why would I mind?"
"I don't know." Nadia replied and shrugged. She smiled at her mother, who had stood up to open the door. She saw a change in Irina's face, and she wondered what Weiss had done to make her smile like that.
"He's been worried about you."
-x-x-x-
Nathan is behind the one-way mirror as Vaughn interrogates their prisoner, Juan Miguel Calderon. He has been watching from the start of the questioning, and Vaughn has been asking the same question over and over again. It is a really frustrating way of interrogation.
He heard the door open. He looked behind him and found Jack entering.
"How is Vaughn doing?"
Nathan crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Irritating Calderon. He keeps on repeating the questions. Its so frustrating, it's sad."
Jack stood beside his son and watched Vaughn and Calderon stare at each other. Vaughn exuded patience, smugness even. The young man looked like he wanted to throttle his interrogator. It was a bit amusing since it was like watching a child argue with a broken record.
Nathan took a step back and leaned on the wall, "May I ask you something?"
Jack glanced at him, "What about?"
"When Iya saw you, she called you…Paddy."
A contemplative look passed by Jack's face, "It's what she called me when both of you were still learning how to talk."
"Did I call you that?"
"No. You called me Daddy."
"Oh." Nathan looked at him again, scrutinized his face, before turning his attention back to the 'events' that were unfolding in the interrogation room.
"I am not privy to those kinds of matters."
"So you have no idea whatsoever to the identity of his CIA connection is?"
"For the nth time, Agent Vaughn. I. Don't. Know."
He glanced at his father, "Do you think we should change tactics?"
"We'll wait for a while." Jack answered, "Once he gets tired of the questions, he might give us something pertinent to our investigation."
The ringing of the phone interrupted their conversation. Jack took it from his pocket and received the call.
"Bristow."
The call was brief. As he returned his phone to his pocket, he turned towards Nathan.
"We need to go the sick bay upstairs. Your mother just collapsed."
-x-x-x-
Dr. Murphy looked at the agent in front of him and fixed his glasses before speaking, "Agent Bristow, do you remember the time when I told you to get rest?" he started and looked at the clipboard he's holding, "I assumed that you did. Now almost five days after that order, Ms. Derevko collapses. I wonder why."
"Exhaustion. Stress." Jack answered.
"Oh, yes, those two reasons." Dr. Murphy answered with slight sarcasm, "Have you forgotten you're not invincible to those two human afflictions, Jack?" he asked.
"You do know the pressure the division has been facing, Henry." The doctor had been with them a few years after he had joined the Agency. He had been transferred with him when APO was established and Jack considers him a friend.
"Well, the pressure has been slashed in half since you've found your daughters. Get sufficient rest or you'll be sharing the room with Ms. Derevko." He gave Jack a grim smile before turning to leave.
"Henry." His friend looked at him, "Until when will Irina stay here?" he asked. The danger that the mole will get to her, as with Nadia and Sofya, are high.
"Overnight. After we discharge her, bring her somewhere safe and let her rest again." With that, he left him for his other duties.
Jack walked towards Irina's room and entered. He found Nathan inside, talking to her. His son looked at him and read the expression on his face.
"Uh, I'll go see Nadia." He said and exited.
He waited for the door to close before starting, "I told you to rest."
"I did." Irina replied and propped her back on the pillows.
"Then why did you collapse?"
She shrugged, "Maybe time has caught up with me."
Jack took one of the chairs near her bed and sat down. He leaned back and looked at her. Irina looked back. Both didn't say anything, as if they were entranced with their staring. Irina finds him fascinating to observe—there were so much mystery in his face, so many things to explore. On the other hand, Jack wanted to know if she's still wearing a mask. He wants to know if he could give her a higher degree of trust. He wanted to know if his trust could go beyond to that he's giving to her now. He wanted to know all of these with just a look on her face.
He gave up after a few minutes.
"You'll be staying here overnight. For observation." He added and stood up. "Though if I were the doctors, I would have wanted that you stay here for a few days. It will be an assurance that you'll actually get to rest."
Irina tilted her head to the side, "And I assume that I'll still be staying with you when I'm… free of this place?"
"That was the arrangement, wasn't it?" he asked and started to leave.
"I hope you visit Nadia before you leave." She said.
He glanced at her, "That's where I'm going."
Irina smiled at him, "She's been asking about the Christmas before the twins were born. I haven't finished." She saw Jack's eyebrows knotting a bit, "I hope you haven't forgotten."
"Was that when we switched their presents with coal and told them that Santa found out about them fooling their Daddy?"
She smiled even wider, "Yes, that Christmas."
Jack nodded his head, "I'll tell her about it." He said and gave her a small smile. He turned his heel and quietly left.
-x-x-x-
Leo Deretoskiev wordlessly listened to the man speaking in the other line as he watched the various kinds of fishes swim around in the aquarium in front of him.
"My son doesn't know about the extent of your plans. You don't have to worry about him jeopardizing your operations."
"Don't you want your son back, Mr. Calderon? He is in the custody of the CIA. We don't know what they might do to him if we don't get him back."
There was a long pause in the other line.
"Are you still there, Mr. Calderon?"
"Yes, I am." The deep timbered voice resounded. It didn't betray the real age of the person talking, "Miguel was warned of the dangers and the consequences he might face when he joined the organization. Now, he is caught by the enemy. It is up to him to find a way to his freedom."
He had grown fond of the young Calderon. Miguel is a very intelligent person and very well-adjusted even if it seems that his father doesn't care for him that much. He had treated the young man like a son he never had.
"Are you entirely sure that you don't want to rescue your son?"
"Let him learn his lesson, Mr. Deretoskiev."
He hid his sigh, "Very well, then." He ended the call and leaned on back on his leather chair. He brought back his attention to the aquarium again. Looking at fishes swimming about calm him.
His fingers toyed with the remaining manuscripts in his possession. They are unfinished, as Sofya Derevko mixed foul languages in English, Russian, Spanish, Italian, French and German with her translations of the Rambaldi manuscripts.
He glanced at the papers. Nevertheless, the part of the prophecy that he had wanted is in his hands. The moment that he finishes executing Rambaldi's endgame, nothing can stop him.
Nothing at all.
