Chapter 6
Jack walked down the wide boulevard back to his hotel. Taxis passed him at regular intervals but he ignored them; the rain had stopped and the air was cool, and he was in no hurry to reach his hotel room after another failed evening.
Richards saw Dixon stride into the support base and confer quietly with Vaughn, his expression somber. He put on the headset.
"Base to Watchtower."
"Watchtower." Jack recognized Dixon's voice.
"Watchtower, be advised that I have given the order for the alternative mission to be prepped."
"I had four nights." Jack kept his voice controlled.
"And now you have one."
"Understood, Base," replied Jack in clipped tones. "Watchtower out."
Richards looked back and forth between the two men, then down at the dialogue he had just typed. How much, he wondered, had been communicated in the words left unsaid? Where in the dry transcript that he was creating did he add that Dixon had just told Jack that his daughter's life would be put at risk if he failed the next night?
Jack's mood darkened. Bleakly he replayed the Countess's feigned physical attraction for him at the reception. Had it been just that way for Irina? Had their first attempts at lovemaking been… repugnant to her? A long-buried wave of humiliation washed over him as he recalled his youthful pride at their exploits together. Now tainted beyond redemption. He shook his head impatiently; this was a distraction he could ill-afford. He only had one more night and, personal history notwithstanding, he was going to allow himself to be seduced. Again.
He shuffled along, head bowed, shoulders hunched, subconsciously staying in character in case he was being followed. His musings were interrupted by two teenagers, stepping out of the alleyway in front of him, knives drawn.
Laughter erupted over his comm link. "Let me know if you want the backup team, Jack."
Richards turned his head in amazement to watch the scene in the support base. Showing a remarkable lack of concern, Weiss was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the console, eating a donut.
"Gimme your wallet and your watch!" the taller one demanded in Czech.
Conscious of the cars passing him on the boulevard, Jack raised his hands. "Please don't hurt me. I'll give you anything you want," he said in English. Slowly he pulled out his wallet and offered it with a trembling hand.
Seeing the shake in Jack's hand through the glasses, Richards' lip curled in disgust. One of the best field agents in the CIA?
The muggers looked at each other and smiled. A tourist. An *American* tourist. "Wanna have some fun?" the taller one said to the shorter one in rapid Czech. At his companion's assent, he turned to Jack and gestured for him to move into the dark alley from which they had emerged.
"No, please!" begged Jack. A rough shove propelled him into the shadows. Jack surveyed the area carefully, pleased to see that there were no clear sightlines to where the 3 of them now stood.
"Be gentle with them, Jack," urged Weiss.
As the two muggers approached their prey, knives drawn, Jack abandoned his cover and drew himself to his full height. "You have one chance," said Jack in fluent Czech. "I have not had a good night. If you drop your knives and leave now, you won't get hurt."
Richards saw Vaughn walk into the support base and look over Weiss's shoulder.
"What the - ?"
"$5 says it's over in 15 seconds." Weiss looked at Vaughn hopefully.
Richards turned back to the other screen in time to see the taller teen lunge at Jack. He was unable to make any sense out of the subsequent screen images, however, as Jack's movement came so fast it left him dizzy. When Jack's head finally stopped moving, both teens were motionless on the ground.
"12.7 seconds. Pay up."
"I never agreed to that bet!"
Richards rewound the tape and played it in slow motion, jaw open. They hadn't taught those moves in training. Where, he wondered, was he going to learn them?
Jack emerged from the alley, feet shuffling, and finished his walk back to the hotel, a grim smile on his lips.
**
Jack's hand paused on the doorknob to his hotel room as a telltale glimmer of light shone under the door. "Watchtower to Base. Signing off for the night," he snapped, turning off the transmission without waiting for a reply. Lip curling into a snarl, he threw the door open to find, as he expected, Irina within. "You b*tch."
She looked up, her expression one of polite concern. "Bad night, Jack?"
"Congratulations, Irina. Now you've gotten my attention. What exactly is the point of this farce?"
"Never get involved in a land war in Asia."
"Excuse me?" Jack's tone was frigid.
"The most classic blunder. Only slightly less well-known is assuming that I will sit idly by while you get laid by that whore."
"Now you're spouting lines from a B movie* at me?" Jack's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Didn't he – you doped *both* glasses of champagne?" he demanded incredulously.
Irina gave him a glittering smile. "Glad to see that PhD in game theory finally paid off."
Jack slammed his fist down on the desk. "Dammit, Irina, I don't have the patience to play your childish games. This is hard enough as it –," he stopped abruptly. "Please leave," he said coldly. "And don't interfere again."
Irina crossed one leg over the other and made herself comfortable.
"Fine," he ground out. "Have it your way." He reached his hand up to his glasses and started speaking. "Watchtower to Base. What is the current location of the backup team?"
Richards looked from his monitor to the support base monitor in confusion. Weiss was at his desk, writing up notes. No image was apparent on his screen; no transmission appeared to be occurring.
"You wouldn't," hissed Irina, rising to her feet and advancing towards him.
"Stand by, Base." He looked at Irina, face unflinching. "Try me."
Her shoulders sagged.
"Your word that you won't interfere again." Jack's voice was harsh.
She nodded curtly.
"Watchtower to Base. Stand down the backup team for the night." Jack reached up and touched his glasses again, then pulled them off and tossed them onto the desk.
Weiss was still writing up his shift summary, Richards saw. Nice bluff, he thought approvingly. Was Bristow's wife really on the run from the CIA? Well, that certainly explained the transmission failures.
"That wasn't necessary, Jack."
"Wasn't it? I only have one more night. I can't afford any more of your extracurricular activities."
"One more night to end up in bed with her." Irina's eyes were hard.
Jack squared his shoulders. "Yes."
"Why is this so g*ddammed important to you? There have to be hundreds of ways to slip phony information to the Covenant. Of course," she added nastily, "I'm sure they don't have the advantage of the Countess' devoted personal attention. Did you enjoy that kiss tonight, Jack? Her tongue down your throat while she imagined herself with someone else entirely? Her hands moving over you while she wondered what the best way was to extract the information -," Irina paused as she saw Jack turn white and look away.
"Surely," she prodded recklessly, misinterpreting his response, "you knew she was faking it."
"Of course I did," he said with a constricted voice. "I'm an expert at being seduced, remember? But I appreciate your insights into what she was thinking, given your experience."
Irina stared at him dumbfounded, "Oh God. Jack -,"
"Don't."
"Jack, listen to me. It's not the same."
"Oh, isn't it?" He spun around, fists clenched at his side. "Me, the pathetic fool that couldn't believe his luck. You, swallowing your revulsion and willing to do whatever it took to extract the information." His eyes blazed. "Do you deny that's the way we started?"
The words crackled like lightning in the charged air between them. "I deny that's the way we ended," she said softly. "Jack -," she said penitently, taking a step forward and laying a hand on his arm, "I-,"
"I know," he said, anger draining from his face. "We've been through this. I just want this g*ddamned mission to be over."
"This is hard for you," she observed quietly.
"Yes."
"And there's no alternative?"
"Of course there is," he said with resignation. "It's for Sydney to attempt a hostile entry to the villa. Dodging mines, dogs, and snipers. Which is what will happen if I fail."
"This is about gaining entry to the villa? And Sydney's the backup?"
"Surely you didn't think this was something I was doing by choice?"
"Perhaps I was confused by the fact that she's young, gorgeous, and willing," replied Irina, unable to remove the hint of an edge from her voice.
"Fine." Jack threw his hands up in exasperation. "I admit it. I volunteered for this assignment because I didn't think I could keep my hands off of her. I'm going to screw her senseless and then, when she's recovered, screw her again. You'll probably hear her screams from here. Are you happy?"
"B*stard," she said without heat.
"I have one more night to get access to the master bedroom, Irina. If I don't, Sydney will be sent in."
"There must be another way to gain entry."
"CIA intelligence says there's not."
"There's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one." Irina looked speculative. "I wonder…,"
Jack cut her off with a warning look. "You gave me your word."
Irina chewed her lip, considering her words carefully. "I won't interfere in your accomplishing your mission."
Jack sighed, recognizing an evasion when he heard one, but confident that she would not put Sydney at risk.
"It's late. I need to go." Irina had a purposeful air.
Jack's eyes flickered. "You could stay here tonight."
"As the backup plan? I think not."
"You know that's not what I meant." His hand reached out to stroke her cheek and sighed. "I have missed you, you know."
Irina turned her head and pressed her lips to his hand, eyes brooding. "It would be best to miss me a little bit longer, Jack. I'm not sure I can be responsible for my actions in the morning, knowing that you're going to bed her tomorrow night."
He nodded in understanding, resigned.
With a last, brittle smile, Irina turned on her heel and left.
*******************
A/N – with apologies to The Princess Bride