"Laura?" Startled, Irina looked up. Jane. Of all the times and places they could have met again, fate chose this one. She looked around, hoping no one was watching her. "My god, it is you. Does Jack know you're alive?"
Quickly, she jumped to her feet. "You can't tell anyone you've seen me, Jane. They will kill you. Pretend you've made a mistake." When Jane didn't respond, she hissed, "Do it, now."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. For a minute I thought... But of course, you can't be. Laura died over twenty years ago. How silly of me."
"That's quite all right," she responded in her heaviest accent. "It happens to me all the time. I just have one of those faces." Under her breath. "Jack knows."
Jane smiled pleasantly and proceeded on her way. Irina sat back, sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. Had Jane taken her warning seriously? She was safe as long as she kept her mouth shut. Sloane wouldn't risk killing her, because that would draw Jack to their location. There was still a chance that Sloane would take action anyway, simply to eliminate the risk. One of her contacts would need to keep a protective eye on Jane, she resolved.
.........................................................
Sydney paused the video and glanced at her father. Their honeymoon had been an eye-opener for her. Until now, she only had the vague memories of a six year old. Now, her heart ached for her father. How he had loved 'Laura'. It was there in every gesture, every touch, every look. But she already knew that. Even as a child she recognized the depth of his feelings toward her mother. How many times had she found him asleep in the recliner, holding 'Laura's' photograph to his heart?
The greater revelation was her mother. Her father was right, she did want to believe her Mom really loved him. It would make everything somehow right.She watched the tapes, greedy for any look, any word that would reveal her mothers true feelings. How could the woman on the video not be truly in love? It seemed impossible, but Sydney realized she was watching with a daughter's eyes.
She needed to be more objective. This would be a good time to make use of her 'spy' training. Was it possible to separate the woman on the screen from the woman who was her mother? She cast her mind over everything she had seen.
The Proposal: She acknowledged that Irina's reactions could have simply been an act.
The Rollercoaster: Nothing - except Irina had held on to her father for the first drop. No, that couldn't count. Anyone would have probably done the same.
The Wedding: Irina appeared happy, even radiant. Could her father be right? Happy because she'd pulled off a huge coup for the KGB? Possible. But one thing stood out. The woman in the video was oblivious to everyone and everything around her except Jack. Irina was definitely startled when she recognized Khasinau in the congregation. Still, the whole thing was a toss-up. Irina's job was to focus on Jack and her reaction to Khasinau may simply have been surprise that he would risk being seen by CIA agents.
The Honeymoon: Most of it looked pretty typical of honeymooners everywhere. Still, Irina seemed a little more subdued after their first day encounter with Cuvee. It was difficult to tell much from the video, since the camera didn't offer the opportunity for 'couple' shots. Except. Except the early morning waking of Jack. There was something in Irina's voice. Determination certainly. She had a definite purposefulness in her attitude, but more importantly, there was a stronger emotion motivating her. Desire. And that, Sydney was positive, had been real.
Sydney thought about the man sitting next to her. Her father. It was hard to reconcile the young man in the video with the person she called 'Dad'. She tried to see him with young Irina's eyes. He was tall and athletic, without being overly muscular. A man who worked out for strength and conditioning rather than bulk. His face was rugged, rather than classically handsome, the naturally serious expression, softened then by a gentle smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. What struck Sydney the most was his quick wit and wicked sense of humor. It was a side of him she'd never seen.
There was a sexuality about him that she had never really noticed, either. Irina certainly felt it. It was evident in her eyes, every time she looked at him. And other women saw it, too. Irina noticed them noticing, judging from the possessive way she held on to him when the looks were too open. Sydney could almost hear her saying 'mine'. Did women still look at her Dad like that? Perhaps it was better not to go there. There were just some things a daughter shouldn't know, she decided.
Sydney looked at her father. He was lost in thought, happy ones judging by his expression. She smiled to herself, glad that he was remembering his honeymoon without rancor. A good nights rest obviously worked miracles. Except for the early morning ringing of the phone, she suddenly recalled. Who would call her father at such a time? Not the CIA. If there had been any new developments, he would have immediately gone to headquarters. Not his sister. He would have told her if there was a family emergency.
There was something about the call that nagged at her, begging her to solve the puzzle. All her instincts screamed that this was significant. The solution was there, waiting in the recesses of her mind, just out of reach. She looked up to the television screen, seeking an answer from the faces frozen before her. Slowly, she breathed in and out, focusing inward, as pieces of information bumped randomly against one another. And then she had it.
"So Dad," Sydney asked, testing her new found knowledge, "who called you this morning?"
