Part 14: Lux aeterna
January 1984
Irina put on her seatbelt for the landing in Brazil, hiding her nervousness. Katya, Elena, and Sydney would have disappeared from Italy and Moscow several hours ago; she had originally been scheduled to arrive in Brazil the day before, with plenty of time to disappear, but the mission had been unaccountably delayed a day. With no way to contact Katya, Irina and Elena had decided that the only option was for Elena and Sydney to leave Moscow as scheduled; they could only hope that there would be enough of a lag before the disappearances were noticed that Irina could get away after the plane landed.
Irina's stomach turned over as her team leader directed them all to remain in their seats when a messenger came aboard the plane. After a hushed conversation with the messenger, he ordered them all to disembark.
Her relief was short-lived, however; the moment she stepped off the plane, she heard a rifle cocked inches from her head. "Irina Derevko, you're under arrest," a man's voice said.
An hour or so later, she was herded into a small KGB office. Her heart sank when she saw who the regional commander was: Gerard Cuvee, one of her tormentors in Kashmir. She barely had time to identify him before he punched her hard between her eyes, causing her to crumple to the floor and nearly black out. "Your little plan failed miserably," he sneered. "We have both your sisters in custody, and your daughter. You'll be on your way back to Moscow in the morning, and then you'll all pay for your treachery." He kicked her in the ribs, then turned to the guards. "Lock her up."
She was dragged into a small cell, where she breathed deeply and managed to calm herself despite the pain. Cuvee was lying, she decided. If he'd said they just had Katya, or just Elena and Sydney...but surely the KGB couldn't have gotten all of them without knowing the plan in advance, and if they'd known that, she would have been arrested earlier. She had to believe that her family was safe. And he hadn't said anything about Jack, thank God; the KGB didn't suspect that he was still alive, then.
Irina looked around the cell and began planning her escape. Cuvee always had been sloppy, she thought with a slight grin as she removed her left shoe and peeled back the insole. They'd patted her down, yes, and to their credit had found both the knife in her belt and the one strapped to her inner thigh, but they hadn't even come close to finding the lock pick in her shoe. And they must be out assisting on the mission she was supposed to have participated in, because although she could hear a guard nearby, no one was directly observing her. In no time at all, she'd picked the lock on the small window near the ceiling and wriggled through it.
She found herself in an empty alley, and for a moment thought that it might just be that easy, but then she heard a shout of "She's gone!" followed by running feet. Unfortunately for her, they didn't waste time unlocking the cell and trying to squeeze out the window; instead, two of them came around the building to chase her in the alley. One of them caught her by the left wrist. It snapped with a loud crack and a shot of pain, but she barely noticed as she hit the man in the head with the other elbow. He fell to the ground, groaning. That gave time for the other man to reach her; he had a knife out and managed to gash her thigh and get in a few punches before she knocked him unconscious with a kick to the head. Knowing that more agents were probably on their way, she hurried away.
When she was sure she was safe, she stopped to take stock of her injuries. The gash on her thigh was bleeding profusely and clearly needed stitches, her wrist was definitely broken, and she suspected broken ribs. But the most worrisome problem was that her eyes were already swelling shut. She had three days to get to Paris, and it would be damn hard to travel incognito with two black eyes.
She tore a strip from her shirt and wrapped it around her leg, then stood, ready to find a way to steal the medical supplies she needed. The blood immediately rushed from her head. Bled more than I thought passed through her head just before she lost consciousness.
Sydney sat on the ground near the Column of July in Bastille Square, holding a doll in her lap but not playing with it. Jack glanced at her as he paced; no doubt she was picking up on his tension and that of her aunts. He glanced at his watch; it was 12:55 pm.
On the way to Leningrad, Elena had explained the contact procedure to him. They would meet on the south side of the Column of July in Bastille Square at noon on a specified day. If they weren't all there, they would wait until 1 pm. If anyone was still missing, they would try again on the two following days. At 1 pm on the third day, though, they would have to assume that whoever was missing had been caught. If the KGB did catch one of them, the torture would be brutal, and no one could be expected to hold out more than a few days, so at that point those who had made it were to leave Paris. Everyone had arrived without incident on the first day except Irina; today was the third day.
A deep, somber bell tolled out once. Jack stopped pacing and scanned the area carefully. Nothing. Elena came up beside him and put her hand on his elbow. "Jack, we have to leave."
He wanted to protest, but he knew as well as she did that they couldn't risk endangering all of them for Irina. "Sydney, time to go," he called.
She didn't move. "When is Mama going to come?" They hadn't told her the reason for coming back to the square each day, but she'd figured it out all the same.
Jack frowned; Katya shook her head at him almost imperceptibly. Now wasn't the time; he could tell Sydney the truth when they were far from here, out of the reach of the KGB. "Soon, sweetheart," he lied.
She stuck her lower lip out, but ever so slowly climbed to her feet. She came over to Jack and reached out her hand; he took it and squeezed it tightly. "She's not coming, is she? She went away again." She began to cry.
Jack knelt down and hugged her. "She wanted to come very, very much," he said softly. "But she couldn't. Somebody didn't let her."
"The bad men that we all ran away from?"
"Yes, the bad men." He stayed there for a moment.
"We need to leave now," Katya said reluctantly. She stroked Sydney's hair. "I'm sorry, darling."
"A few minutes won't matter," Elena responded. "If..." She glanced at Sydney and switched to Spanish. "If they've got her, she'd kill herself before she'd tell them how to find Sydney." Katya nodded.
Ten minutes later, Sydney had calmed enough for them to leave. They walked to the street and hailed a cab. Katya and Elena got in, and Jack tried to prod Sydney in, but she was staring across the square, immobile. Jack followed her gaze to see a figure limping toward the Column, face hidden by oversized sunglasses. It couldn't be...could it?
"Mama!" Sydney screamed suddenly, and tore off toward the figure. The person stopped moving, turned toward them, and pulled off the sunglasses. Despite the two black eyes, now faded to a mottled brown and green, Jack recognized her easily: Irina.
He only froze for a moment before he started running after Sydney. Elena and Katya piled out of the cab and were right behind him, ignoring the shouts of the cab driver. Jack and Sydney reached Irina at the same time; she was sobbing as they both threw their arms around her. Katya and Elena reached them a moment later and joined the hug.
Later that day, Jack sat in a hotel room, watching Irina and Sydney as they lay nestled together on the bed, asleep. In between bites of an enormous meal, Irina had told them all—in Spanish so that Sydney wouldn't understand—how she'd been caught by the KGB, escaped them, passed out, and woken up in a hospital. They all found it quite amusing that she'd gotten out of KGB custody in less than two hours but had taken a full two days to escape the civilian hospital. Without the money and identification she'd secreted in her suitcase before the mission, she'd been forced to stow away on a succession of planes to get to Paris. She'd gone to the square knowing she was too late, expecting never to see them again, so it had been a very happy surprise when Sydney called to her.
Irina stirred, and Jack moved from his chair to kneel beside the bed. He reached out and caressed her cheek; she opened her eyes and smiled at him. He kissed her. "I love you," he said softly.
Surprise registered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by joy. "I love you, too," she whispered.
Jack didn't know what was going to happen to them now, where they would go, what they would do. But he'd decided during the last few weeks of waiting that it wasn't important. He loved her, she loved him, and they were together, a family. That was all that mattered.
THE END
January 1984
Irina put on her seatbelt for the landing in Brazil, hiding her nervousness. Katya, Elena, and Sydney would have disappeared from Italy and Moscow several hours ago; she had originally been scheduled to arrive in Brazil the day before, with plenty of time to disappear, but the mission had been unaccountably delayed a day. With no way to contact Katya, Irina and Elena had decided that the only option was for Elena and Sydney to leave Moscow as scheduled; they could only hope that there would be enough of a lag before the disappearances were noticed that Irina could get away after the plane landed.
Irina's stomach turned over as her team leader directed them all to remain in their seats when a messenger came aboard the plane. After a hushed conversation with the messenger, he ordered them all to disembark.
Her relief was short-lived, however; the moment she stepped off the plane, she heard a rifle cocked inches from her head. "Irina Derevko, you're under arrest," a man's voice said.
An hour or so later, she was herded into a small KGB office. Her heart sank when she saw who the regional commander was: Gerard Cuvee, one of her tormentors in Kashmir. She barely had time to identify him before he punched her hard between her eyes, causing her to crumple to the floor and nearly black out. "Your little plan failed miserably," he sneered. "We have both your sisters in custody, and your daughter. You'll be on your way back to Moscow in the morning, and then you'll all pay for your treachery." He kicked her in the ribs, then turned to the guards. "Lock her up."
She was dragged into a small cell, where she breathed deeply and managed to calm herself despite the pain. Cuvee was lying, she decided. If he'd said they just had Katya, or just Elena and Sydney...but surely the KGB couldn't have gotten all of them without knowing the plan in advance, and if they'd known that, she would have been arrested earlier. She had to believe that her family was safe. And he hadn't said anything about Jack, thank God; the KGB didn't suspect that he was still alive, then.
Irina looked around the cell and began planning her escape. Cuvee always had been sloppy, she thought with a slight grin as she removed her left shoe and peeled back the insole. They'd patted her down, yes, and to their credit had found both the knife in her belt and the one strapped to her inner thigh, but they hadn't even come close to finding the lock pick in her shoe. And they must be out assisting on the mission she was supposed to have participated in, because although she could hear a guard nearby, no one was directly observing her. In no time at all, she'd picked the lock on the small window near the ceiling and wriggled through it.
She found herself in an empty alley, and for a moment thought that it might just be that easy, but then she heard a shout of "She's gone!" followed by running feet. Unfortunately for her, they didn't waste time unlocking the cell and trying to squeeze out the window; instead, two of them came around the building to chase her in the alley. One of them caught her by the left wrist. It snapped with a loud crack and a shot of pain, but she barely noticed as she hit the man in the head with the other elbow. He fell to the ground, groaning. That gave time for the other man to reach her; he had a knife out and managed to gash her thigh and get in a few punches before she knocked him unconscious with a kick to the head. Knowing that more agents were probably on their way, she hurried away.
When she was sure she was safe, she stopped to take stock of her injuries. The gash on her thigh was bleeding profusely and clearly needed stitches, her wrist was definitely broken, and she suspected broken ribs. But the most worrisome problem was that her eyes were already swelling shut. She had three days to get to Paris, and it would be damn hard to travel incognito with two black eyes.
She tore a strip from her shirt and wrapped it around her leg, then stood, ready to find a way to steal the medical supplies she needed. The blood immediately rushed from her head. Bled more than I thought passed through her head just before she lost consciousness.
Sydney sat on the ground near the Column of July in Bastille Square, holding a doll in her lap but not playing with it. Jack glanced at her as he paced; no doubt she was picking up on his tension and that of her aunts. He glanced at his watch; it was 12:55 pm.
On the way to Leningrad, Elena had explained the contact procedure to him. They would meet on the south side of the Column of July in Bastille Square at noon on a specified day. If they weren't all there, they would wait until 1 pm. If anyone was still missing, they would try again on the two following days. At 1 pm on the third day, though, they would have to assume that whoever was missing had been caught. If the KGB did catch one of them, the torture would be brutal, and no one could be expected to hold out more than a few days, so at that point those who had made it were to leave Paris. Everyone had arrived without incident on the first day except Irina; today was the third day.
A deep, somber bell tolled out once. Jack stopped pacing and scanned the area carefully. Nothing. Elena came up beside him and put her hand on his elbow. "Jack, we have to leave."
He wanted to protest, but he knew as well as she did that they couldn't risk endangering all of them for Irina. "Sydney, time to go," he called.
She didn't move. "When is Mama going to come?" They hadn't told her the reason for coming back to the square each day, but she'd figured it out all the same.
Jack frowned; Katya shook her head at him almost imperceptibly. Now wasn't the time; he could tell Sydney the truth when they were far from here, out of the reach of the KGB. "Soon, sweetheart," he lied.
She stuck her lower lip out, but ever so slowly climbed to her feet. She came over to Jack and reached out her hand; he took it and squeezed it tightly. "She's not coming, is she? She went away again." She began to cry.
Jack knelt down and hugged her. "She wanted to come very, very much," he said softly. "But she couldn't. Somebody didn't let her."
"The bad men that we all ran away from?"
"Yes, the bad men." He stayed there for a moment.
"We need to leave now," Katya said reluctantly. She stroked Sydney's hair. "I'm sorry, darling."
"A few minutes won't matter," Elena responded. "If..." She glanced at Sydney and switched to Spanish. "If they've got her, she'd kill herself before she'd tell them how to find Sydney." Katya nodded.
Ten minutes later, Sydney had calmed enough for them to leave. They walked to the street and hailed a cab. Katya and Elena got in, and Jack tried to prod Sydney in, but she was staring across the square, immobile. Jack followed her gaze to see a figure limping toward the Column, face hidden by oversized sunglasses. It couldn't be...could it?
"Mama!" Sydney screamed suddenly, and tore off toward the figure. The person stopped moving, turned toward them, and pulled off the sunglasses. Despite the two black eyes, now faded to a mottled brown and green, Jack recognized her easily: Irina.
He only froze for a moment before he started running after Sydney. Elena and Katya piled out of the cab and were right behind him, ignoring the shouts of the cab driver. Jack and Sydney reached Irina at the same time; she was sobbing as they both threw their arms around her. Katya and Elena reached them a moment later and joined the hug.
Later that day, Jack sat in a hotel room, watching Irina and Sydney as they lay nestled together on the bed, asleep. In between bites of an enormous meal, Irina had told them all—in Spanish so that Sydney wouldn't understand—how she'd been caught by the KGB, escaped them, passed out, and woken up in a hospital. They all found it quite amusing that she'd gotten out of KGB custody in less than two hours but had taken a full two days to escape the civilian hospital. Without the money and identification she'd secreted in her suitcase before the mission, she'd been forced to stow away on a succession of planes to get to Paris. She'd gone to the square knowing she was too late, expecting never to see them again, so it had been a very happy surprise when Sydney called to her.
Irina stirred, and Jack moved from his chair to kneel beside the bed. He reached out and caressed her cheek; she opened her eyes and smiled at him. He kissed her. "I love you," he said softly.
Surprise registered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by joy. "I love you, too," she whispered.
Jack didn't know what was going to happen to them now, where they would go, what they would do. But he'd decided during the last few weeks of waiting that it wasn't important. He loved her, she loved him, and they were together, a family. That was all that mattered.
THE END