Irina
Irina heard it too. Footsteps. Three to four guards. Swiftly she moved to the other side of the cell, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Jack. He was looking flushed and distracted, but she didn't think the guards would notice. She wasn't thinking that clearly herself. Her fingers crept up to her lips, savoring the taste of that passionate embrace. God, she had missed him.
She felt a sting of bitterness. It had been too much, too fast. She knew that, if they got out of this alive, Jack would hate himself even more for so totally losing control with her. He might even blame her for egging him on, though heaven knows she was just as vulnerable to the drug's effects as he.
She pulled herself together and turned towards the noise.
The door swung open. Without speaking, 2 guards grabbed her arms and started to lead her out of the cell. The other 2 grabbed Jack, preparing to pull him up to a standing position.
As Irina went by, she felt her hairclip slide out of her hair to the floor. Horrified, she glanced back at Jack, then down at the clip. Without the clip, Sydney would enter the prison at the wrong point and be unable to find them before the alarm had been raised.
They had always been able to communicate without speaking, and Jack understood her unspoken message. As the guards pulled him to his feet, he pretended to stumble and fall. The unexpected dead weight on their arms caused the guards to drop him heavily on the ground, over the spot where the clip was. Angrily, they yanked him back to his feet, then dragged him down the hall behind Irina. The floor where the clip had been was empty.
Sydney
Alarms started going off in the cab. The GPS went from a solid green to a flashing red. Sydney slammed on the brakes. What had gone wrong? She had lost her target.
She frantically checked over the system for 5 minutes, then sighed in relief. The display was green again - but the coordinates were different. She programmed the GOFER to the new heading, and set off again. She was getting close.
Jack
The guards led Irina and dragged Jack, the hairclip in his pocket, down several winding corridors until they finally reached a brightly lit room, furnished sparsely with several chairs and a table. Cuvee was already there, pacing in his eagerness to get the information he needed. S&G was fiddling with a tape recorder. He looked up as the guards came in and gestured them to place Jack and Irina in chairs facing each other. Guards held them down.
Jack looked over at Irina. Her expression was unreadable.
"Hurry up!" Cuvee barked. S&G glanced mildly at him, then wheeled over to face Jack.
Jack stared coolly at S&G. He had been trained for this, knew which information he could give up, which to protect. How to give up information in stages, to make it more convincing. Having debriefed Sydney and Will, he had no illusions about whether he was going to enjoy the next few minutes, but hoped that Irina was right about the extraction.
S&G turned on the tape recorder, then started, "What is your name?"
"Jonathan Bristow."
"Who do you work for?"
Jack's brain kicked into gear. The first answer was always supposed to be his cover - the aircraft parts company. Later on, when they sweated him some more, he would drop SD-6. His double-agent status with the CIA was one of those things he needed to keep buried, to protect himself and Sydney.
"The CIA," he heard himself say. Oh my God, Jack thought. He had lived his cover everyday for 35 years, and his double-agent status every day for the last 10. He had coughed both of those up on the second question, and they hadn't touched him. He felt physically sick with the sudden realization that he would be unable to protect any of the information he guarded, and that many, including Sydney, would die.
He felt Irina's gaze on him and looked up. Understanding and compassion filled her eyes.
Irina heard it too. Footsteps. Three to four guards. Swiftly she moved to the other side of the cell, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Jack. He was looking flushed and distracted, but she didn't think the guards would notice. She wasn't thinking that clearly herself. Her fingers crept up to her lips, savoring the taste of that passionate embrace. God, she had missed him.
She felt a sting of bitterness. It had been too much, too fast. She knew that, if they got out of this alive, Jack would hate himself even more for so totally losing control with her. He might even blame her for egging him on, though heaven knows she was just as vulnerable to the drug's effects as he.
She pulled herself together and turned towards the noise.
The door swung open. Without speaking, 2 guards grabbed her arms and started to lead her out of the cell. The other 2 grabbed Jack, preparing to pull him up to a standing position.
As Irina went by, she felt her hairclip slide out of her hair to the floor. Horrified, she glanced back at Jack, then down at the clip. Without the clip, Sydney would enter the prison at the wrong point and be unable to find them before the alarm had been raised.
They had always been able to communicate without speaking, and Jack understood her unspoken message. As the guards pulled him to his feet, he pretended to stumble and fall. The unexpected dead weight on their arms caused the guards to drop him heavily on the ground, over the spot where the clip was. Angrily, they yanked him back to his feet, then dragged him down the hall behind Irina. The floor where the clip had been was empty.
Sydney
Alarms started going off in the cab. The GPS went from a solid green to a flashing red. Sydney slammed on the brakes. What had gone wrong? She had lost her target.
She frantically checked over the system for 5 minutes, then sighed in relief. The display was green again - but the coordinates were different. She programmed the GOFER to the new heading, and set off again. She was getting close.
Jack
The guards led Irina and dragged Jack, the hairclip in his pocket, down several winding corridors until they finally reached a brightly lit room, furnished sparsely with several chairs and a table. Cuvee was already there, pacing in his eagerness to get the information he needed. S&G was fiddling with a tape recorder. He looked up as the guards came in and gestured them to place Jack and Irina in chairs facing each other. Guards held them down.
Jack looked over at Irina. Her expression was unreadable.
"Hurry up!" Cuvee barked. S&G glanced mildly at him, then wheeled over to face Jack.
Jack stared coolly at S&G. He had been trained for this, knew which information he could give up, which to protect. How to give up information in stages, to make it more convincing. Having debriefed Sydney and Will, he had no illusions about whether he was going to enjoy the next few minutes, but hoped that Irina was right about the extraction.
S&G turned on the tape recorder, then started, "What is your name?"
"Jonathan Bristow."
"Who do you work for?"
Jack's brain kicked into gear. The first answer was always supposed to be his cover - the aircraft parts company. Later on, when they sweated him some more, he would drop SD-6. His double-agent status with the CIA was one of those things he needed to keep buried, to protect himself and Sydney.
"The CIA," he heard himself say. Oh my God, Jack thought. He had lived his cover everyday for 35 years, and his double-agent status every day for the last 10. He had coughed both of those up on the second question, and they hadn't touched him. He felt physically sick with the sudden realization that he would be unable to protect any of the information he guarded, and that many, including Sydney, would die.
He felt Irina's gaze on him and looked up. Understanding and compassion filled her eyes.