"Thank you, Agent Bristow," said Kendall, his glance flickering over to Devlin. "Now, would you mind telling me why you believe Ms. Derevko turned herself into Sloane?"

Pause. "I believe she wanted to save my life."

"Why?"

Jack's stomach knotted. He had been dreading this question. He could still hear himself, 20 years ago, declaring to a skeptical interrogation team, "She loves me." Their derisive laughter as they had shown him the pictures of her meetings with her handlers. He didn't answer.

"Did you consider that the whole thing was a set-up? That Ms. Derevko was trying to have it both ways? You, at the CIA, feeding her information while she and Sloane work together?"

"That's not her plan."

"What is her plan?"

Pause. "I don't know."

"You don't really have a great track record at reading Ms. Derevko's intentions, do you, Agent Bristow?" The room became deathly quiet. Jack noticed that no one would make eye contact with him.

Kendall looked over at Devlin and received a slight nod. "Agent Bristow, did you have intimate relations with Ms. Derevko while on this mission?"

"What?!" Jack snarled.

"The question is self-explanatory. While you were on this mission did you have intimate relations with Irina Derevko?"

"None of your business," snapped Jack.

"Agent Vaughn," said Kendall.

Vaughn's head jerked up. He had been staring at his desk in dismay. It was clear that Jack had been played for a fool again by Irina. Sydney would be devastated.

"Agent Vaughn, what is the first rule between a handler and his asset?"

Vaughn felt like a deer caught in the headlights, trapped between simultaneous death glares from both Bristow and Kendall.

"Agent Vaughn?" Devlin prompted.

Vaughn swallowed. "To maintain a professional distance. To avoid any emotional attachment which might affect the handler's ability to make difficult decisions when required to do so." He felt the sweat dripping down his back.

"Thank you," said Kendall with satisfaction. "Agent Bristow, let me repeat the question. Did you have intimate relations with your asset, Irina Derevko, while on this assignment?"

Jack, white-lipped and sick with fury, said nothing.

Kendall glanced over at Devlin again, a palpable "I told you so" look on his face. "We're done here," he concluded, looking around the room.

Jack stalked out. On his way, Kendall called out, "Bristow. My office. 15 minutes."

Jack walked blindly into the nearest empty room he could find and closed the door. He sank down into the closest chair and put his head into his hands. Echoes from his interrogation 20 years ago echoed in his head. 'You must have known.' 'She played you for a fool, Bristow.' 'Surely at some point you became suspicious.' 'She never loved you, you sap.' Could they be right? Had she done it to him again? He had been so confident in her. He had believed in her. He wasn't sure what to think anymore. Wearily he got to his feet and headed in to see Kendall.

Kendall studied Jack as he came in. A legend in the CIA. Fearless, ruthless, brilliant. Crippled by his relationship with a Russian spy as fearless, ruthless, and brilliant as himself. The most generous interpretation of Jack's actions on this mission was that he had made judgment errors that had harmed the long-term interests of the United States.

"Agent Bristow, I have asked to have you reassigned," Kendall began without preamble. "I believe your objectivity in this matter has been compromised, and represents a threat to our successfully dealing with what has now become a very dangerous situation. You are not, under any circumstances, to have any further contact with this task force or Irina Derevko.

"Go home now. Take the week off, then report back to Devlin with your transfer request. He's assured me that he will do his best to give you your choice."

Kendall paused, to clear his throat. "Jack, in retrospect, it was a mistake for me to assign you to this mission with Ms. Derevko. It was too much to ask of anyone in your situation. Your work here, up until this point has been exemplary." He looked up at Jack. "Forget this happened, Jack. Forget her."

Without a word, Jack turned on his heel and left.