Warm and rushing blood filled my ears and my eyes feel as if they are sealed with cement. My head lolls to the side and the room spins like a top. Buzzing, harsh and sharp cut through the rush and poke into my brain. I shake them away and return to the soft, warm place in my mind.
"Irina."
Shake it away and return to the downy soft.
"Irina," louder and sharper.
"Irina," sharp, stinging and cold. Cutting into my mind and sting my flesh. My eyes snap open.
"Russia welcomes you back, Irina." A blurry face hovers over me and my eyes try to focus. My head drops to the side and I lift my hand…I can't lift it, something is holding my hand down. I lift again and can't again.
"Stop struggling Irina, you can not move."
My body slumps into the hard surface beneath me.
"Let me up," my voice slurs and scratches my throat.
"No, Irina, just listen now."
The air goes silent and then begins to crackle with electricity. Hissing starts and fills up the air.
"You have been gone from the arms of Russian too long. And she has been worried that you have forgotten her. Russia is a loving mother, but strict. If you disappoint her, you will be punished. Do you understand?" A face comes in close and rough, fetid breath rains down. I nod because that is what they want and it is the only thing I can do.
"You have been a disappointment, you became too fond of your assignment, didn't you." The voice presses on as the words stick in my throat. "Your marriage and your child were a distraction. Ten years is too long to be away and we're going to make you remember."
"No" my voice squeaks. I feel fire course through my bones and screams erupt from my parched throat. Laughter seeps through the pain and I succumb.
***
My skin jumps off my bones and I am jarred awake. The warm fuzziness is gone and searing cold pierces my senses. I am sitting strapped to a chair and pictures flash rapidly in front of me. Pictures of dead bodies; here is one I recognize. I know the next one. I was the agent of death for all of these and I try to turn away. A rough calloused hand grabs my chin and pulls my head back to see the pictures flashing on the screen. Death, death, death and Sydney.
My baby. I want to touch her but my hands are tied. Tears start to form and I will them back.
Then the picture flashes away. Red Square, Lenin, Khrushchev, the Red Army, St. Basil's. An image of Jack and me on our wedding day flashes before my eyes. Happy memories replaced abruptly by an image of a burning body.
Sights from a gulag, starving bodies, hard labor, bare feet struggling through snow.
"Jack Bristow was a fool and you took advantage of his love for you. You stole from him, you betrayed him, and he hates you for it. He has been imprisoned because of you; he has been separated from your daughter because of you. Your daughter is without parents because of you. She has no mother and does not feel love. You have ruined her life."
Tears roll down my face and I hope that he is not right. I hope that Jack and Sydney are safe. I hope that my captors don't see my concern.
"Russia has called you home and you will never see them again."
Lights go dark and I am left alone, haunted.
***
"So, tell me Irina, when did you stop remembering who you were?"
"I always remembered. You would not let me forget Alex. Every time you called I remembered. Every time I was ordered to kill, I remembered. I did not forget."
I am regarded with a sharp hand to my cheek and my head snaps to the left.
"Did you know we watched you? Did you know the house was bugged? Did you know we still follow your daughter?"
Hairs on the back of my neck rise up and I force myself not to show any emotion.
"She is such a pretty little girl. Loves and misses her dead mother. Living with a nanny. You know the CIA has charged your husband with treason. They think he betrayed America and killed those agents. He will never be with your daughter again."
The silence became deafening and I feel hot breath next to my ear.
"And neither will you," my handler whispers. And I shiver.
***
For several days I am left alone to think and remember.
***
The guards walk by often and stare; I know they want me. Giving into one of them might mean an easier time for me and might allow me to obtain more information about my time here and Rambaldi. However, giving in might invite more attention than I want. I will not give in, not yet.
But perhaps if I can find a use for one of the guards and find one that would not want to share. I learned at Simferopol that this is often one of the most effective ways to have control over a difficult situation. I would rather not resort to it, but Jack forgive me, I will.
***
"What is your name?"
"Irina Derevko."
"Where were you born?"
"Stalingrad, Russia."
"How many years have you been an operative for the KGB?"
"I was recruited at age 18 and have been an active operative for 16 years."
"What was your mission in America?"
"To meet Jonathan Donahue Bristow, become an integral part of his life and obtain copies of any CIA documents that he might have in his possession, especially those related to Project Christmas."
"How many years were you in Jack Bristow's life?"
"Ten years."
"How did the relationship progress?"
"I met him in Washington D.C. and we started dating. Approximately one and one half years later we were married. Two years after that we moved to Charleston, West Virginia and another year later, I became pregnant with our daughter."
"Were you ordered to abort this child?"
"I was, but I was stopped by Jack when he followed me to the doctor's office."
"What type of information did you obtain concerning CIA projects without Jack Bristow's knowledge?"
"I obtained information concerning the organization of the office in which he work. I received information concerning Project Christmas, which was a way to identify and train young children to become future spies. I also obtained information concerning specific missions, which helped our operatives be more successful in obtaining the information before the CIA operative."
"Did you love Jack Bristow?"
"Jack Bristow was a fool."