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Irina watched with mixed emotions as her daughter slipped into unconsciousness. She tilted her head almost imperceptibly, as she always did when she was in deep thought. A small frown marred her lips as she stared at the blood running down the girl's chin. For all the evil things she had done, and moreover, all the evil things she was still willing to do in order to get what she wanted, it still unsettled something deep inside of her to think of her daughter in pain.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a small knock at the door. She turned to see one of her men standing in the doorway, completely soaked from head to toe and shivering. "We retrieved the man from the flooded hallway, as you asked, Madame," he chattered out.
"Where is he?" she inquired.
"He has been taken to an isolated room. He has not yet regained consciousness. Should we chain him?" The man, who was barely more than a boy, was beginning to turn blue.
"No, I do not believe that will be necessary," Irina replied. "Go and help the others finish the preparations. We depart in half an hour."
"Yes, Madame," he turned to go.
"And get some dry clothes on, you look a bit chilly," the older woman said without emotion, before turning once again to stare at her daughter. The boy nodded quickly, and disappeared from sight. Irina slowly moved toward Sydney, as if afraid to wake her. She bent down and brushed a lock of horrible blue hair off her face. Her hand lingered there a moment longer than needed, and she closed her eyes, imagining a simpler time when she was adored by her husband and little girl. Of course, Irina Derevko could care less about such a thing as love, but the tiny, stifled part of her that still belonged to Laura Bristow ached for it, and nearly let out a sob at the realization that it was gone, possibly for good. Irina's eyes shot open and she jerked her hand away from Sydney's face. She admonished herself for losing control, and reminded herself that, now more than ever, it was important to keep up appearances and be strong for the men. The last thing she needed at this stage in the game was to lose the support of the KGB. With a renewed determination, she turned away from the slumped figure and walked out of the room.
As she passed the guard outside, she ordered him to keep an eye on the captive, but not to touch her. She would come back to transport her herself. She then walked down the narrow hallway to another guard. "Is he in there?" she asked, gesturing to the door behind him.
"Yes, Madame," the guard replied. She motioned for him to step aside, and entered the room. It was as dingy as her daughter's had been, but it contained a small fold-out couch, on which the captive was now resting. She glanced quickly to his unbound hands, but then put herself at ease. She could tell, without a shadow of a doubt, whether a person was asleep or just faking. This man was conked out. She strode purposefully over to him, unlike she had with Sydney. She peered down at his wet, cold form and felt an inkling of fondness for him. She had been watching the whole watery scene play out from the comfort of another underground surveillance room. She had seen this man go in search of her daughter, and almost die in the process. He intrigued her. She would have to know everything about him.
Irina stood for a moment, pondering the possibility of whether she could do something to make this man a bit more comfortable. She looked around the room with one all-inclusive glance, and let her eyes rest on a blanket in the corner. She went over and picked it up, handling it gently as she brought it over and placed it on top of him. At her touch, he jolted and began trying to open his eyes. Irina did not flinch, because she knew that even at his best, this man would be no match for her. She took a tentative seat on the very edge of the sofa and positioned her face directly over his. As he opened his eyes, her's was the first blurry image he saw. He frowned in confusion, and a raspy sound lurched itself out of his throat in the form of, "Sydney?"
Irina smiled, accepting his mistake as a compliment. She rolled her bright green eyes affably and replied, "Not quite." At this, his own eyes slowly grew wider and he made a panicked gurgling sound in place of words. Irina called for assistance and then placed a hand on his head. "Calm down young man. I wish you no harm right now." He stopped trying to squirm out of her reach, but he still held the stricken look on his face. His focus shifted to the needle that was now in his arm. The woman was speaking again, "I think it is best that you rest now. We will meet again later." And with that, Irina got up and followed the other man out of the room.