Disclaimer: I'm tired of writing these things, see the previous chapters.

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Chapter Five "No," the word was out of Jack's mouth almost before she had even finished speaking. He wasn't even sure why he said it; he just knew he couldn't allow it to happen. He watched as Irina's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No, Jack? You of all people should know better than to try to tell me what to do."

Jack couldn't his grimace at both her reference to their life together and the memory of some of their spectacular disagreements. "It won't work, Irina," he said stating the logic behind his objection, despite the fact that it wasn't his real reasoning. "Sloane would never believe me," he finished.

"He knows you would do anything for Sydney and it shouldn't be that hard for him to believe that you would turn me over to him. You would probably just ask for tickets to my interrogation," she sneered.

Jack couldn't help but notice the sadness in her voice, when she said that, though. He had to be imagining things. If nothing else, the past twenty years should have taught him that Irina didn't care about him in the slightest. "How do I know you're not just luring me into a trap to turn me over to Sloane."

Irina rolled her eyes in frustration. She had almost forgotten that Jack was practically as stubborn as she was. "Honestly Jack if I was going to, I would have done it before now. Use logic, Jack, I'm telling the truth now."

"Don't tell me about honesty, Irina," he said indignantly, but she could tell it was more a defensive action than actual disbelief of what she had said.

Before their conversation could continue, though, a young, skinny, towheaded, Russian boy dashed into the room. His face lit up into a large smile as he called out, "Ms. Irina." The words and the smile died abruptly when he saw Jack and his already pale skin was drained of color. The boy seemed to be frozen to the spot in fear. Clearly he knew it was neither wise nor safe to interrupt Irina when she was conferring with someone.

To Jack's surprise though, Irina didn't react in anger. Instead she held a welcoming arm out to the boy and said, "It's okay, Pter," in gentle Russian. Wrapping one arm around the boy's slim shoulder in a protective gesture, she started to walk out of the room, almost ignoring Jack until she reached the door.

"Feel free to stay here or look around, Jack. Dimitri is right outside the door if you need anything. I leave in two hours to return to Stockholm, with or without you. It's your decision.

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The moment Irina stepped out of the room; she breathed a sigh of relief and then turned her attention to the boy who was now in front of her. "That was careless, Pter, and dangerous. I've taught you better than that."

The boy nodded, appropriately devastated by her rebuke. Privately though, Irina wanted to hug him again. She had badly needed an excuse to escape that room and Jack's presence. Pter had provided the perfect excuse. She had been too close to loosing control of her emotions in there and she couldn't afford that until her daughter was free and Sloane was dead. Her customary control and mental distance had been weakened because she truly felt comfortable and safe here. It wouldn't happen again, though, not while he was here, no matter how much she wanted it too.

"How have you been, Pter," she asked forcing those thoughts to the back of her mind.

"Excellent, Ma'am," he said and she listened as he excitedly told her about everything that he had recently learned and accomplished.

She had taken Pter in five years ago when she saw him begging-and picking pockets- while living on the streets outside of a hotel that had been a front for one of her money laundering operations. Something about the seven year old boy had caught her attention immediately. She had taken him in then, and arranged for his care and education, in a move that surprised even her.

The boy had quickly developed the habit of being at her side whenever it was safe. At first Irina had allowed him to stay simply as a reward for his newest accomplishments, but gradually she had come to look forward to spending time with him. Pter knew who she was and what she did, but she had managed to shield him from the dangers of that world as much as possible. She hadn't been able to protect Sydney.

She hadn't been able to stop feeling the pain of her separation from her daughter, but Pter's quiet, but cheerful presence had helped ease it a little. He could never replace Sydney, though, no one could. Today was the first time he had slipped up, Irina mused as she mentally took note of what he was saying for later thought. Pter's slip was understandable though. Between preparations of the Circumference device and her time in CIA custody, she hadn't seen him in almost a year. Which made what she had to do even harder. She had done it once before for the people she cared about, over a decade ago, and now she would do it again.

"Pter," she said quietly and as she had expected he fell immediately silent. "Come here," she added gently, knowing she only had a little more time before she had to leave.

When he sat down beside her on the bench she looked into his clever, young eyes. "You know I'm leaving again, Pter." He nodded. She knew he had his ways of knowing even if he hadn't heard her tell Jack. "I won't be back," she said bluntly, "and it's become too dangerous for me to continue caring for you. Too many people would kill you to get to me."

The devastating look of trust broken, marred his face for only a moment before shoved the emotions aside in a manner uncannily resembling Irina's. It almost brought tears to her eyes, both of pain and pride. Still she continued, "When you leave Dimitri will give you a quantity of untraceable money. What you do or where you go from here is your business and I want no knowledge of it." She smiled fondly at him. "I would advise you to use it to set up a new life for yourself, but it's sufficient to fund whatever you want to do."

Pter's look was one of interest. He would survive; he was like her in that. Rising and walking away as much of a good bye as she would allow herself already said, she stopped when she heard him call out. "Ms. Irina."

She turned back to look at him. "Yes, Pter," she asked patiently, although she knew she was running out of time.

"Thank you for this and," he looked as if he were considering whether to continue or not, but finally plowed ahead. "And you will not fail. One day your family will forgive you, if you let them. You are the master of deception, but all it takes is one moment, frozen in time, to show them the truth and they will forgive you."

Without a word, she walked over and kissed his cheeks and then walked away, amazed by the boy's perception and his thoughtfulness. When she joined Jack on the plane there was no trace of the tears that had graced her face. She was once again Irina Derevko, strong and ruthless, but something was different. In a way she had never expected, her investment had been paid off. Pter had reminded her of something she had forgotten and in doing so had given her a gift beyond value, a way to get her family back.