Chapter 6
GEIGER: Come on, Jack, just tell me who you're working for and this will all go away.
Geiger picked up the jumper cables and attached them to the ankle bracelets.
GEIGER: One last chance.
Geiger turned a dial on the nearby machine and the electricity shot through the metal bracelets. It crackled. Jack writhed around, struggling. He screamed.
Irina snapped awake. Screaming. Jack? She turned to the bed next to her and in the dim light saw Jack shouting and thrashing under the blanket. A flashback, she thought with dismay. She hurried over and shook him. "Jack? Jack! Wake up!"
Jack's eyes flickered open. Irina watched as the desperation faded, as he reoriented himself to his surroundings. He was bathed in sweat, and still shivering. As he slowly sat up and tried to get control of his breathing, Irina came back with a cold washcloth, and gently bathed his face. She reached out, taking one of his hands in hers. "Jack, tell me," she said softly.
She read the hesitation in his face, tinged with shame. Hesitation at giving her an edge; shame at his own weakness. So she told him of a young KGB agent, 20 years ago, whose superiors had questioned the depth of her loyalty to Russia. Of being strapped down and being shocked repeatedly until she would have sold her soul to end the torture. About the dark days and dark nights that followed as she recovered. As she spoke, she felt the tension leave him. As much as he might not trust her with anything else, he knew he could trust her with this.
"Jack, tell me," she said again softly, taking him into her arms. Slowly, haltingly, he started. Going back to SD-6 to look for the code that would bring down the Alliance. His farewell phone call to his daughter, at gunpoint. Waking up in the conversation room strapped down, with Geiger rubbing gel on his ankles. As he continued, the words began to come faster, tumbling over each other in a torrent. The unbelievable pain. His fear for Sydney. His conviction that he would die. And finally, Geiger's death.
When he was done he lay in her arms, spent, too exhausted in body and spirit to move. Tenderly, Irina cradled him until he slept.