Chapter Eleven: Back in the Game
Sydney took a deep breath outside her mother's office Monday morning, steeling herself up to knock on the door. For the first time in maybe ten years, she felt strong, confident. Like herself. Why? Because for the first time since she'd come to work for her mother ten years before, she was sure of what she was doing. Sure that what she was doing was the right thing.
In a little more than a week, she was turning herself in to the CIA.
She and Michael had talked about it extensively over the weekend, and ultimately decided that it was the only possible decision. The life they were living now was turning them into people they hated. Yes, Sydney was willing to admit that the power her mother was dangling in front of her face was tempting. But she had to get her soul back, and she was afraid this might be her only chance. As for the children, well-- Sydney just had to force herself to feel confident that they would be safe. That was the only option, and she would find a way to see that it happened.
In the meantime, though, she had to pretend that everything was normal. She had to look her mother in the eye and pretend she was happy to do her bidding. It wouldn't be so difficult. She'd been doing the same thing for the last ten years. So that morning she raised her hand to knock on the door to her mother's office--
Only to have the door swing open to reveal a blonde girl with eyes of two different colors, one green and one blue.
"Brooke!" Sydney said in surprise as the woman stepped into the hall, closing Irina's door behind her. "What are you--"
"What am I doing speaking to your mother?" Brooke cut in, an icy smile flashing across her face. "She does occasionally give me assignments, Sydney, even if you don't." It was true. Once Sydney had gained the power to do so, she had cut Brooke's responsibilities; she had never really gotten over Brooke trying to seduce Michael so many years before. In all of the time Sydney had known Michael, Brooke had been the only woman to ever turn his head, and Sydney had never forgiven her for it.
"I'd prefer it if you'd address me as Mrs. Vaughn," Sydney snapped then.
"Yes, I'm sure you would," Brooke said, laughter in her eyes. "How is Michael, by the way?"
Sydney didn't like the way Brooke's voice lingered seductively over Michael's name. Didn't like much about the girl at all, actually. She almost snapped off a terse, "He's fine," or even better, "None of your damned business," in response, but she stopped herself. Better not to show Brooke how much she was getting to her. "He's amazing, actually," Sydney said, smiling as if she were remembering a private moment. "I can't wait to have him to myself this weekend." Actually, she was terrified to leave the children, but she was hardly going to let Brooke know that.
"I'll bet you can't," Brooke responded, a wicked grin flashing across her face. "Your mother tells me you're taking him to St. Bart's. I'll bet he looks great in a Speedo."
"He looks great in a lot less," Sydney replied, surprising even herself. Brooke's comment nagged at her, though. Since when did her mother let Brooke in on her travel plans?
"I'm sure he does," Brooke said. "Well, it's been great chatting with you, Syd-- Mrs. Vaughn, but I'm afraid I have to be going. I've been summoned to meet with someone terribly important. In fact, I think you might know him."
Sydney watched, bewildered, as Brooke flounced away. What the hell did that mean?
She strode into her mother's office, feeling more determined than before. "Who is Brooke Banning rushing off to meet?"
Irina arched an eyebrow. "Your new status in the Organization doesn't excuse you from observing such courtesies as knocking before you enter my office. And Brooke Banning's activities are none of your concern."
"I'm going to be running this Organization," Sydney snapped. "I have the right to know what my agents are doing."
Now Irina raised both eyebrows. "You're behaving like a spoiled child, Sydney dear. It doesn't become you."
Sydney felt like screaming in frustration. Instead she crossed her arms in front of her. "You dropped by my house for a reason Saturday. What was it?"
"Your house?" Irina questioned. "Let me remind you that the house you live in and everything in it was paid for with money that originated from this Organization, my Organization. Don't forget your place here, Sydney."
"I believe you encouraged me to do just that when you gave me control," Sydney responded, glaring at her mother.
Irina regarded her coolly. "You don't have control till next Tuesday, Sydney. Until that time, you are my employee, and even after that time, you will be my daughter, and I will ask you that you treat me with some respect."
Sydney told herself to cool it. It was just that after so many years thinking she would never escape her mother, she could finally taste freedom. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter. "Of course I respect you, Mother." Feared was more like it, but whatever.
"Then act like it." Irina leaned back in her chair. "And do take a seat, darling. You're making me nervous."
Irina Derevko, nervous? That was something Sydney would have paid money to see. She would have paid twice as much to have been the one making her feel that way.
Well, Irina should have been nervous, Sydney thought. She should have been downright scared, in fact. Sydney was going to turn her in, and there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it. Sydney would make sure of that.
After ten years sitting on the bench, she was back in the game.