Black leather boots with a stiletto heel…a tight black wrap dress, a rigid bun of weathered chestnut hair. She'd stand out anywhere. She took the additional three steps down, before she made an attempt to acknowledge me… She stood in front of me and waited until I looked up at her familiar face. It had been seared into my brain from the hours of time she spent trying to break me.
"Sydney…Is something wrong?" Irina asked. She tortured me last year and she had the audacity to ask how I was? She could at least have sent a damn birthday card…
"I'm fine, thank you." I retorted.
"This was all a trap" I made the question into a statement.
She ignored me and continued…"Sydney, A mother always knows when something is wrong with her daughter."
"Where does that leave you?"
"Such harsh words….Now I regret saving his life."
"He's alive…?"
"Did you think I'd let a man you love die... Again?"
"Yes, you are cruel and heartless…"
"And you are my daughter. IF you were disappointed in finding out whom I was; do you think I was proud of who you turned out to be?"
Baffled.
I always thought I held the resentment in our relationship.
"People might look at you and think you are an 'amazing' person because you overcame your misgivings. You are strong, determined and you have a good heart to them. People like that are not real though...they can not give you what you deserve. I can. My allies as well as myself can not respect you yet…. While your accomplishments might win you brownie points with your associates, they bring me shame…"
Was this for real? Was my mother disappointed in me being a good person? Was that possible?
"When you speak of me to The CIA, they must shake their heads and mention that I have committed atrocities to their agents. Maybe they blame me for every little international squabbles…"
"Actually, I don't talk about you. I never have." I thwarted her attempt to reason with me this time.
But there was no way I was going to let her try to make me believe that She was the victim in this situation. It would take many trips to the candy store and tea parties before I'd even agree to hear that sob story.
"Well. You certainly have an answer to questions I don't ask…what about to the ones I do pose? Let's see if you'll let your mouth get in the way of the well being of your friend, Michael Vaughn. Answer correctly and everything will be peaches and plums…"
"It's peaches and cream. You pretended to be an English professor for 10 years; I thought you were trained to avoid obvious giveaways…"
She pursed her lips for a moment and responded "enough, If I wanted to listen to you bicker with me; I would have been around during your teenage years… here is my question…how far would you go to save his life?"
Insult me and then threaten me…she knew the game. She forgot I was her opponent. I'd gain her confidence and then when she though that I was no longer a threat I'd attack…
"Don't even think it Sydney." She smiled. She was enjoying this.
"What would I have to do?" I dryly noted.
"You see it's not that simple. One step at a time…"
"What would be step one?"
"I'm glad you asked…" She jangled key chain, most likely to the locked doors of the stairwell in front of my face. "Step one is the easiest. All you have to do is visit a doctor…"
"A doctor?" I questioned. She had to be kidding. "I need current dental records for when it comes time to identify your body if you don't cooperate."
I gulped. "I think you remember my dentist. He certainly remembers you and your friend Mr. Tippin…"
I didn't respond. She was using Vaughn as leverage…or maybe it was just a lie. Maybe she didn't have him…
"I want to see him. Then I'll decide." There was a chance she was bluffing, and if she wasn't there was a chance I could escape with Vaughn.
"I grow tired of this. Let me inform you of step two…"
"We play by my rules, or we don't play" I stated as I stood up. "As you wish…" She unlocked the door and grasped my arm as she escorted me to room 416, she knocked twice on the door and Sark opened the door.
"Ahhh…The lovely Miss Bristow has decided to come home to her rightful place." Irina placed a manicured finger against his lips to silence him…"All in good time" she whispered.
I searched the room. I didn't see him. "Where is he?" I asked. "In the bathroom" responded Sark…
I opened the door to the bathroom…White tile…White wallpaper, white sink…white toilet…bloody secret agent…
"Vaughn?" I hoarsely uttered as I lowered myself to the title floor and attempted to caress his face with my hand. He began screaming as he came to. "It's a nasty little after effect from his encounter with some psychedelics…Sark began. "He's fine." Irina stated.
" I need to speak to him" I mumbled, I was horrified and on the verge of shaking. "I have some matches if you want him to listen…they usually work…" Sark began. "He's joking…They always work." Irina finished.
I cringed. My year has been emotional hell. His had been worse. His eyes slowly focused and he came too after a few more moments of my gentleness. "Sydney…" he whispered. "My eyes widened. "I'm here" I said reassuringly. I should have won an Oscar for that performance. I brought my ear very close to his face as to hear him as he screamed: "RUN!!!"
TBC
"Sydney…Is something wrong?" Irina asked. She tortured me last year and she had the audacity to ask how I was? She could at least have sent a damn birthday card…
"I'm fine, thank you." I retorted.
"This was all a trap" I made the question into a statement.
She ignored me and continued…"Sydney, A mother always knows when something is wrong with her daughter."
"Where does that leave you?"
"Such harsh words….Now I regret saving his life."
"He's alive…?"
"Did you think I'd let a man you love die... Again?"
"Yes, you are cruel and heartless…"
"And you are my daughter. IF you were disappointed in finding out whom I was; do you think I was proud of who you turned out to be?"
Baffled.
I always thought I held the resentment in our relationship.
"People might look at you and think you are an 'amazing' person because you overcame your misgivings. You are strong, determined and you have a good heart to them. People like that are not real though...they can not give you what you deserve. I can. My allies as well as myself can not respect you yet…. While your accomplishments might win you brownie points with your associates, they bring me shame…"
Was this for real? Was my mother disappointed in me being a good person? Was that possible?
"When you speak of me to The CIA, they must shake their heads and mention that I have committed atrocities to their agents. Maybe they blame me for every little international squabbles…"
"Actually, I don't talk about you. I never have." I thwarted her attempt to reason with me this time.
But there was no way I was going to let her try to make me believe that She was the victim in this situation. It would take many trips to the candy store and tea parties before I'd even agree to hear that sob story.
"Well. You certainly have an answer to questions I don't ask…what about to the ones I do pose? Let's see if you'll let your mouth get in the way of the well being of your friend, Michael Vaughn. Answer correctly and everything will be peaches and plums…"
"It's peaches and cream. You pretended to be an English professor for 10 years; I thought you were trained to avoid obvious giveaways…"
She pursed her lips for a moment and responded "enough, If I wanted to listen to you bicker with me; I would have been around during your teenage years… here is my question…how far would you go to save his life?"
Insult me and then threaten me…she knew the game. She forgot I was her opponent. I'd gain her confidence and then when she though that I was no longer a threat I'd attack…
"Don't even think it Sydney." She smiled. She was enjoying this.
"What would I have to do?" I dryly noted.
"You see it's not that simple. One step at a time…"
"What would be step one?"
"I'm glad you asked…" She jangled key chain, most likely to the locked doors of the stairwell in front of my face. "Step one is the easiest. All you have to do is visit a doctor…"
"A doctor?" I questioned. She had to be kidding. "I need current dental records for when it comes time to identify your body if you don't cooperate."
I gulped. "I think you remember my dentist. He certainly remembers you and your friend Mr. Tippin…"
I didn't respond. She was using Vaughn as leverage…or maybe it was just a lie. Maybe she didn't have him…
"I want to see him. Then I'll decide." There was a chance she was bluffing, and if she wasn't there was a chance I could escape with Vaughn.
"I grow tired of this. Let me inform you of step two…"
"We play by my rules, or we don't play" I stated as I stood up. "As you wish…" She unlocked the door and grasped my arm as she escorted me to room 416, she knocked twice on the door and Sark opened the door.
"Ahhh…The lovely Miss Bristow has decided to come home to her rightful place." Irina placed a manicured finger against his lips to silence him…"All in good time" she whispered.
I searched the room. I didn't see him. "Where is he?" I asked. "In the bathroom" responded Sark…
I opened the door to the bathroom…White tile…White wallpaper, white sink…white toilet…bloody secret agent…
"Vaughn?" I hoarsely uttered as I lowered myself to the title floor and attempted to caress his face with my hand. He began screaming as he came to. "It's a nasty little after effect from his encounter with some psychedelics…Sark began. "He's fine." Irina stated.
" I need to speak to him" I mumbled, I was horrified and on the verge of shaking. "I have some matches if you want him to listen…they usually work…" Sark began. "He's joking…They always work." Irina finished.
I cringed. My year has been emotional hell. His had been worse. His eyes slowly focused and he came too after a few more moments of my gentleness. "Sydney…" he whispered. "My eyes widened. "I'm here" I said reassuringly. I should have won an Oscar for that performance. I brought my ear very close to his face as to hear him as he screamed: "RUN!!!"
TBC