Chapter 2
Jack stared moodily at his glass. He had been unable to stop replaying the conversation with Elsa Caplan in his mind. He'd been an ass, of course. His emotions were still raw from the realization that Elsa Caplan had chosen her love for her husband over her mission. As Irina had not. If Barnett ever saw the tape, he'd be in therapy for the rest of his life.
He had made far too many bad judgment calls lately. He'd misread Elsa Caplan. He'd underestimated Sydney, and her ability to play outside the rules. He'd refused to go after Caplan, almost killing him and failing to get access to the genetic database. He had a mole in the Ops Center.
And, finally, he'd trusted Irina. And she had played him again, escaping to Sloane with the Rambaldi manuscript. He'd thought it would be impossible for her to devastate him another time. He'd been wrong. His duty required him to apprehend her, using whatever means possible. His sanity required that he never see her again.
"You're Sydney's father. Irina Derevko was your wife."
Elsa Caplan's words came back to him. She had known Irina. Or known of her. What, exactly, did she know? Would it be at all useful in their search for her? He knew the information needed to be obtained, knew he needed to be the one to do it. It was just that, with all his current failures, he wasn't in the mood to have his biggest one thrown back in his face.
He finished the scotch in one long swallow and reached for the phone to book a plane to Bainbridge Island.
***
Elsa Caplan was sitting through yet another endless debriefing session. Neil had been with her for most of them, patiently by her side, holding her hand, as she had answered question after question about her mission. How had she been trained? How had her husband been selected? Who were her contacts? At first her answers had been halting, as she had struggled to shake the feeling that she was betraying her country. But she would feel a gentle squeeze on her hand as her husband looked over at her, sensing her distress, and her resolve had stiffened. She had already made her choice. She didn't regret it. Today Neil was at home with their son, who had woken with a fever.
Elsa felt Jack's presence before she saw him. She looked up, and saw him standing in the door, brooding. She did not attempt to mask her dislike. The last time she had seen him he had threatened to take away her son.
Jack glanced over at her interrogator. "I have a few questions for Mrs. Caplan. Why don't you take a break?"
The agent looked up, startled. It was unusual for an agent of Director Bristow's seniority to participate in defector interrogation. "Of course, sir."
"Turn off the cameras."
"Yes, sir." The agent left the room, switching off the recording equipment on the way.
Jack turned back to Elsa.
"You've been granted defector status in exchange for your cooperation."
"Yes?" replied Elsa, frostily. "I've been more than cooperative."
"I need you to answer some questions for me."
Elsa raised an eyebrow.
Jack sighed to himself. Her body language was quite clear. "I apologize for our last meeting. I. jumped to conclusions that weren't accurate."
Elsa nodded, slightly mollified. "I am indebted to your daughter. What do you want to know?"
"When I walked into your cell, you knew my name. And the name of my wife, Irina Derevko."
"Yes."
Jack swallowed. "How?"
Elsa's reply was soft, but direct. "The last time we met, you said that you were an expert on someone like me. What you probably didn't realize is that I know as much about you as you thought you knew about me."
This is what Jack had feared. He looked away briefly, unable to hold her gaze.
"I was trained for 3 years for this mission. English language, American culture, weapons, hand-to-hand fighting, communications. And, of course, we reviewed case studies of those who had come before us. Derevko was famous. She wasn't the first, but she was one of the most spectacularly successful. Ten years is a long time to successfully evade detection. We studied her methods, her approaches.
Jack paled slightly. Unable to stop himself, he choked out, "Her methods?"
"Yes. Derevko approached her assignment in an unconventional manner. Up until that point, the KGB had tended to concentrate its efforts on older, more senior targets. The relationships were more liaisons than anything else, and seldom lasted beyond 9 months."
"Derevko's mission was altogether different. It was to find an agent early enough in his career that marriage would be natural. So that his trust in her would grow as his career grew. So that by the time he had maximum access to information at the CIA, she would have maximum access to the information as well. She completely rewrote the book."
"She.she told you what her approaches had been? What had worked best?"
Elsa looked at him curiously. "No, I never met her personally. We studied her case files, and her handler's notes. I recognized you from the pictures, although of course you looked much younger then."
Younger, thought Jack. And naïve.
"Derevko was so successful that virtually all of the protocols for my mission were modeled on hers."
"What about the cyanide implant?"
"That was also due to Derevko."
Jack sat down heavily. Of course, it would have been Irina's idea to implant cyanide in the targets.
Jack stared moodily at his glass. He had been unable to stop replaying the conversation with Elsa Caplan in his mind. He'd been an ass, of course. His emotions were still raw from the realization that Elsa Caplan had chosen her love for her husband over her mission. As Irina had not. If Barnett ever saw the tape, he'd be in therapy for the rest of his life.
He had made far too many bad judgment calls lately. He'd misread Elsa Caplan. He'd underestimated Sydney, and her ability to play outside the rules. He'd refused to go after Caplan, almost killing him and failing to get access to the genetic database. He had a mole in the Ops Center.
And, finally, he'd trusted Irina. And she had played him again, escaping to Sloane with the Rambaldi manuscript. He'd thought it would be impossible for her to devastate him another time. He'd been wrong. His duty required him to apprehend her, using whatever means possible. His sanity required that he never see her again.
"You're Sydney's father. Irina Derevko was your wife."
Elsa Caplan's words came back to him. She had known Irina. Or known of her. What, exactly, did she know? Would it be at all useful in their search for her? He knew the information needed to be obtained, knew he needed to be the one to do it. It was just that, with all his current failures, he wasn't in the mood to have his biggest one thrown back in his face.
He finished the scotch in one long swallow and reached for the phone to book a plane to Bainbridge Island.
***
Elsa Caplan was sitting through yet another endless debriefing session. Neil had been with her for most of them, patiently by her side, holding her hand, as she had answered question after question about her mission. How had she been trained? How had her husband been selected? Who were her contacts? At first her answers had been halting, as she had struggled to shake the feeling that she was betraying her country. But she would feel a gentle squeeze on her hand as her husband looked over at her, sensing her distress, and her resolve had stiffened. She had already made her choice. She didn't regret it. Today Neil was at home with their son, who had woken with a fever.
Elsa felt Jack's presence before she saw him. She looked up, and saw him standing in the door, brooding. She did not attempt to mask her dislike. The last time she had seen him he had threatened to take away her son.
Jack glanced over at her interrogator. "I have a few questions for Mrs. Caplan. Why don't you take a break?"
The agent looked up, startled. It was unusual for an agent of Director Bristow's seniority to participate in defector interrogation. "Of course, sir."
"Turn off the cameras."
"Yes, sir." The agent left the room, switching off the recording equipment on the way.
Jack turned back to Elsa.
"You've been granted defector status in exchange for your cooperation."
"Yes?" replied Elsa, frostily. "I've been more than cooperative."
"I need you to answer some questions for me."
Elsa raised an eyebrow.
Jack sighed to himself. Her body language was quite clear. "I apologize for our last meeting. I. jumped to conclusions that weren't accurate."
Elsa nodded, slightly mollified. "I am indebted to your daughter. What do you want to know?"
"When I walked into your cell, you knew my name. And the name of my wife, Irina Derevko."
"Yes."
Jack swallowed. "How?"
Elsa's reply was soft, but direct. "The last time we met, you said that you were an expert on someone like me. What you probably didn't realize is that I know as much about you as you thought you knew about me."
This is what Jack had feared. He looked away briefly, unable to hold her gaze.
"I was trained for 3 years for this mission. English language, American culture, weapons, hand-to-hand fighting, communications. And, of course, we reviewed case studies of those who had come before us. Derevko was famous. She wasn't the first, but she was one of the most spectacularly successful. Ten years is a long time to successfully evade detection. We studied her methods, her approaches.
Jack paled slightly. Unable to stop himself, he choked out, "Her methods?"
"Yes. Derevko approached her assignment in an unconventional manner. Up until that point, the KGB had tended to concentrate its efforts on older, more senior targets. The relationships were more liaisons than anything else, and seldom lasted beyond 9 months."
"Derevko's mission was altogether different. It was to find an agent early enough in his career that marriage would be natural. So that his trust in her would grow as his career grew. So that by the time he had maximum access to information at the CIA, she would have maximum access to the information as well. She completely rewrote the book."
"She.she told you what her approaches had been? What had worked best?"
Elsa looked at him curiously. "No, I never met her personally. We studied her case files, and her handler's notes. I recognized you from the pictures, although of course you looked much younger then."
Younger, thought Jack. And naïve.
"Derevko was so successful that virtually all of the protocols for my mission were modeled on hers."
"What about the cyanide implant?"
"That was also due to Derevko."
Jack sat down heavily. Of course, it would have been Irina's idea to implant cyanide in the targets.