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This fan-fic is a companion piece to "The Tricky Thing About Trust" and "One Small Year" also archived on fanfic.net.
The title refers to a series of prayers meant to be said before sleep.
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous, and all for your love's sake. Amen --The Common Book of Prayer
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"Mom?" Sydney gasped, as the figure emerging from the shadows revealed itself.
"Sydney, how lovely you've grown!" Irina whispered, crossing over to her daughter and touching her cheek softly. "I've watched you for so long. I've seen the agent you've become, but never in these long years have I had a chance to see you face to face!"
Her mother's touch felt cool, light, and familiar. Sydney began to search her face for signs of the woman she had known--the woman who had soothed her to sleep with lullabies, rocked her while reading story books, and clasped her in her arms when she returned home from school. There were faint lines around this woman's eyes and mouth that Sydney had not associated with the woman who had been her mother, but the warm brown eyes, the expressive eyebrows, the straight, aquiline nose and full mouth were the same.
"Mom?" Sydney repeated, her voice, even more tremulous.
"Yes, Sydney. It is I," Irina stated simply. "But, this was not how I imagined we'd meet. Fate has been very unkind to both of us. It has made us enemies, when my only wish was that we could be together, working side by side. But your father and Arvin Sloane have corrupted you. I should have foreseen that eventuality. I'm sorry."
"Corrupted me? Corrupted ME?" Sydney exclaimed, hot, angry tears filling her eyes, so that she could hardly see the woman standing before her. "Look at me! You've had me handcuffed, you've kidnapped and tortured my friend, and someone I love has most likely died because of what you have done!" her voice rose with anger and gained strength with every word. "You were the one who left! You were the one who betrayed us! How could you? How could you be my mother and have killed those agents? How could you let your entire marriage to my father be a sham? I'd accuse you of betraying your country, but I don't even know what country you truly work for!"
Irina stepped back and sighed, in no way surprised by Sydney's outburst, but still saddened by it.
"I am not working on behalf of a single country, Sydney. Everything I have done--everything I will do--is for the safety and security of the entire world. Let me ask you something. Why do you think Arvin Sloane is so obsessed with Rambaldi and his inventions?"
Sydney swallowed. "He believes all of Rambaldi's devices combine to form a weapon of mass destruction. Once he--or rather, SD-6--possesses this weapon, he can keep it or sell it to the highest bidder."
Irina smiled. "Perfectly true. Now, tell me, do you think Russia's or the United States' desire for the Rambaldi device is any different than Sloane's?"
"Of course!" Sydney cried. "The point is to keep the weapon away from anyone who wishes to use it against them, not to use it themselves!"
Irina gazed at her daughter and shook her head. "How can you have been a spy for so long and not have realized the truth? You've played the game, but you've lost neither your naiveté nor your patriotism, I see. You still believe governments exist to serve and protect the rights of their citizens," she intoned bitterly.
For the first time, Sydney detected a cold, cruel glint in her mother's eye. Irina frowned, and Sydney could see that over the years this had become a habitual expression. She began to watch her mother even more warily.
"Tell me something else," Irina continued. "Which country has been the only nation to use a nuclear weapon against another country?"
Sydney's mouth went dry, and she felt as if she were being examined by a stern and exacting professor. "The United States dropped a series of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki to force the Japanese to surrender and thus end World War II," she replied in a hoarse voice.
"That in itself should prove my argument that the United States' motives are not as pure as you would like them to be. It proves that even America will use weapons of mass destruction if provoked. Do you still feel that Rambaldi's weapon would be safe in the hands of the American government?" Irina's smile turned brittle. "Do you know how the arms race between America and Russia really started?"
Sydney shook her head, her eyes expressing both horror and fascination as a result of her mother's revelations.
"American and Russian scientists working separately on developing nuclear capability for their countries, began secretly sharing information so that neither nation would be the sole possessor of a weapon of such destructive force. The scientists felt that although they would each be betraying their countries, they would be doing what was best for mankind. They saw themselves, not as citizens of a country, but as citizens of the world. One of those men, Yuri Alexseivich Suvin, was your grandfather, Sydney," she said softly. "The Soviet government discovered he was trading secrets and sent him to Siberia, where he was later put to death without a trial. I consider myself a citizen of the world, just like my father, and I will do anything I have to do, so that my father's sacrifice was not in vain."
Irina's voice shook, and she looked pleadingly into the eyes of her daughter. "Now do you think I am a traitor? That I am in this for my own personal gain? Everything I have done has been done to keep you safe from political machinations of the world's super powers, even though you and your father, Arvin Sloane, and countless others have tried to thwart me at every turn. I loved you, and I loved your father, even though I considered his loyalty and his patriotism destructive and misguided. Do you think I wanted to hurt you? Do you think I wanted to leave you? Do you think I have not regretted the things I have done? Yes, I killed those agents you spoke of. I seduced and killed every single one, but only because I had to. Because there was no other way. That is, I seduced every agent but one, but in the end, I killed him, too," she added, almost as if to herself.
Sydney froze in her seat. "Who was that agent?" she asked haltingly.
Irina lifted an eyebrow and turned to her daughter in surprise. After all she had revealed, that was the last question she expected from her daughter. "His name was William Vaughn. Other than your father, he was the most upright, gentle, and honorable man I have ever known."
Sydney remained silent, her emotions clashing inside her. When she had dreamed of coming face to face with her mother, two very different scenarios had come to mind. In one, her mother was cruel and irredeemably evil---someone she could justifiably hate and fight to her dying breath. In the other, her mother was abject and repentant---someone she could pity and perhaps rehabilitate. She was not prepared for the combination of the two that was before her: this strong, tragic, unrepentant, woman who recognized the evil she had done and justified it as serving a higher end.
"All you've done is make a case for absolute power corrupting absolutely," Sydney said after an extended silence. "What makes your motives any different? Why should the world trust you with the Rambaldi device?"
Irina's eyes glowed, as she gazed at her daughter. "That's my girl. That's the question I was hoping you'd ask. What would you say if I told you I had a dream: a dream of a world united into a single democratic society with elected officials from every culture and indigenous people, and the world's security vouchsafed by a weapon of untold power? A weapon with the ultimate failsafe: it can only be detonated if all 47 elected officials activate it simultaneously and thus would be used only if the world itself were endangered. That is the dream that both Milo Rambaldi and I share. That is the dream to which I have devoted my life."
"I would say that you have betrayed and killed countless people---people you respected, some that you loved---for an utopia you'll never see realized in your life time and which may never be realized," Sydney said in a low voice.
"Perhaps," Irina, replied, the light suddenly extinguished from her eyes. "But perhaps it's my destiny to try," she murmured, a strange tone in her voice.
"You know about Rambaldi's prophecy, don't you?" Sydney asked suddenly. "You know what the CIA found when they exposed the blank page in Rambaldi's manuscript. They found your picture. They thought it was me, but it was you! Rambaldi didn't predict you'd save the world; he predicted you'd destroy it!"
Irina gazed at her daughter. "Did it never occur to you that the CIA faked that prophecy to prevent you from taking my side and coming to work for me? If the CIA could fake Rambaldi documents expertly enough to fool SD-6, what makes you think they didn't dupe you as well? I myself cannot tell you for sure what is written there. I have not seen the complete Rambaldi manuscript. You yourself must choose whom to believe. I won't force you to make a decision now, Sydney, but you will have to make one soon. And I warn you that if you decide to remain my enemy--if you decide to continue to work against me--I will not spare your life or the lives of those close to you to realize my dream."
With that, Irina turned away from her daughter and exited the room after saying a few words to the guard at the door. The door swung shut, and Sydney was alone--and desperate.
Desperate for someone to contradict what she had just heard. Someone who would tell her that she was not engulfed in an endless series of lies and cover-ups. Someone who would deny the charge that working for the CIA was no better than working for SD-6. She wanted someone she trusted to tell her the truth, and she wanted that truth to be something she wanted to hear. She wanted her father, but most of all she wanted Michael Vaughn, and Michael Vaughn was dead.
This fan-fic is a companion piece to "The Tricky Thing About Trust" and "One Small Year" also archived on fanfic.net.
The title refers to a series of prayers meant to be said before sleep.
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous, and all for your love's sake. Amen --The Common Book of Prayer
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"Mom?" Sydney gasped, as the figure emerging from the shadows revealed itself.
"Sydney, how lovely you've grown!" Irina whispered, crossing over to her daughter and touching her cheek softly. "I've watched you for so long. I've seen the agent you've become, but never in these long years have I had a chance to see you face to face!"
Her mother's touch felt cool, light, and familiar. Sydney began to search her face for signs of the woman she had known--the woman who had soothed her to sleep with lullabies, rocked her while reading story books, and clasped her in her arms when she returned home from school. There were faint lines around this woman's eyes and mouth that Sydney had not associated with the woman who had been her mother, but the warm brown eyes, the expressive eyebrows, the straight, aquiline nose and full mouth were the same.
"Mom?" Sydney repeated, her voice, even more tremulous.
"Yes, Sydney. It is I," Irina stated simply. "But, this was not how I imagined we'd meet. Fate has been very unkind to both of us. It has made us enemies, when my only wish was that we could be together, working side by side. But your father and Arvin Sloane have corrupted you. I should have foreseen that eventuality. I'm sorry."
"Corrupted me? Corrupted ME?" Sydney exclaimed, hot, angry tears filling her eyes, so that she could hardly see the woman standing before her. "Look at me! You've had me handcuffed, you've kidnapped and tortured my friend, and someone I love has most likely died because of what you have done!" her voice rose with anger and gained strength with every word. "You were the one who left! You were the one who betrayed us! How could you? How could you be my mother and have killed those agents? How could you let your entire marriage to my father be a sham? I'd accuse you of betraying your country, but I don't even know what country you truly work for!"
Irina stepped back and sighed, in no way surprised by Sydney's outburst, but still saddened by it.
"I am not working on behalf of a single country, Sydney. Everything I have done--everything I will do--is for the safety and security of the entire world. Let me ask you something. Why do you think Arvin Sloane is so obsessed with Rambaldi and his inventions?"
Sydney swallowed. "He believes all of Rambaldi's devices combine to form a weapon of mass destruction. Once he--or rather, SD-6--possesses this weapon, he can keep it or sell it to the highest bidder."
Irina smiled. "Perfectly true. Now, tell me, do you think Russia's or the United States' desire for the Rambaldi device is any different than Sloane's?"
"Of course!" Sydney cried. "The point is to keep the weapon away from anyone who wishes to use it against them, not to use it themselves!"
Irina gazed at her daughter and shook her head. "How can you have been a spy for so long and not have realized the truth? You've played the game, but you've lost neither your naiveté nor your patriotism, I see. You still believe governments exist to serve and protect the rights of their citizens," she intoned bitterly.
For the first time, Sydney detected a cold, cruel glint in her mother's eye. Irina frowned, and Sydney could see that over the years this had become a habitual expression. She began to watch her mother even more warily.
"Tell me something else," Irina continued. "Which country has been the only nation to use a nuclear weapon against another country?"
Sydney's mouth went dry, and she felt as if she were being examined by a stern and exacting professor. "The United States dropped a series of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki to force the Japanese to surrender and thus end World War II," she replied in a hoarse voice.
"That in itself should prove my argument that the United States' motives are not as pure as you would like them to be. It proves that even America will use weapons of mass destruction if provoked. Do you still feel that Rambaldi's weapon would be safe in the hands of the American government?" Irina's smile turned brittle. "Do you know how the arms race between America and Russia really started?"
Sydney shook her head, her eyes expressing both horror and fascination as a result of her mother's revelations.
"American and Russian scientists working separately on developing nuclear capability for their countries, began secretly sharing information so that neither nation would be the sole possessor of a weapon of such destructive force. The scientists felt that although they would each be betraying their countries, they would be doing what was best for mankind. They saw themselves, not as citizens of a country, but as citizens of the world. One of those men, Yuri Alexseivich Suvin, was your grandfather, Sydney," she said softly. "The Soviet government discovered he was trading secrets and sent him to Siberia, where he was later put to death without a trial. I consider myself a citizen of the world, just like my father, and I will do anything I have to do, so that my father's sacrifice was not in vain."
Irina's voice shook, and she looked pleadingly into the eyes of her daughter. "Now do you think I am a traitor? That I am in this for my own personal gain? Everything I have done has been done to keep you safe from political machinations of the world's super powers, even though you and your father, Arvin Sloane, and countless others have tried to thwart me at every turn. I loved you, and I loved your father, even though I considered his loyalty and his patriotism destructive and misguided. Do you think I wanted to hurt you? Do you think I wanted to leave you? Do you think I have not regretted the things I have done? Yes, I killed those agents you spoke of. I seduced and killed every single one, but only because I had to. Because there was no other way. That is, I seduced every agent but one, but in the end, I killed him, too," she added, almost as if to herself.
Sydney froze in her seat. "Who was that agent?" she asked haltingly.
Irina lifted an eyebrow and turned to her daughter in surprise. After all she had revealed, that was the last question she expected from her daughter. "His name was William Vaughn. Other than your father, he was the most upright, gentle, and honorable man I have ever known."
Sydney remained silent, her emotions clashing inside her. When she had dreamed of coming face to face with her mother, two very different scenarios had come to mind. In one, her mother was cruel and irredeemably evil---someone she could justifiably hate and fight to her dying breath. In the other, her mother was abject and repentant---someone she could pity and perhaps rehabilitate. She was not prepared for the combination of the two that was before her: this strong, tragic, unrepentant, woman who recognized the evil she had done and justified it as serving a higher end.
"All you've done is make a case for absolute power corrupting absolutely," Sydney said after an extended silence. "What makes your motives any different? Why should the world trust you with the Rambaldi device?"
Irina's eyes glowed, as she gazed at her daughter. "That's my girl. That's the question I was hoping you'd ask. What would you say if I told you I had a dream: a dream of a world united into a single democratic society with elected officials from every culture and indigenous people, and the world's security vouchsafed by a weapon of untold power? A weapon with the ultimate failsafe: it can only be detonated if all 47 elected officials activate it simultaneously and thus would be used only if the world itself were endangered. That is the dream that both Milo Rambaldi and I share. That is the dream to which I have devoted my life."
"I would say that you have betrayed and killed countless people---people you respected, some that you loved---for an utopia you'll never see realized in your life time and which may never be realized," Sydney said in a low voice.
"Perhaps," Irina, replied, the light suddenly extinguished from her eyes. "But perhaps it's my destiny to try," she murmured, a strange tone in her voice.
"You know about Rambaldi's prophecy, don't you?" Sydney asked suddenly. "You know what the CIA found when they exposed the blank page in Rambaldi's manuscript. They found your picture. They thought it was me, but it was you! Rambaldi didn't predict you'd save the world; he predicted you'd destroy it!"
Irina gazed at her daughter. "Did it never occur to you that the CIA faked that prophecy to prevent you from taking my side and coming to work for me? If the CIA could fake Rambaldi documents expertly enough to fool SD-6, what makes you think they didn't dupe you as well? I myself cannot tell you for sure what is written there. I have not seen the complete Rambaldi manuscript. You yourself must choose whom to believe. I won't force you to make a decision now, Sydney, but you will have to make one soon. And I warn you that if you decide to remain my enemy--if you decide to continue to work against me--I will not spare your life or the lives of those close to you to realize my dream."
With that, Irina turned away from her daughter and exited the room after saying a few words to the guard at the door. The door swung shut, and Sydney was alone--and desperate.
Desperate for someone to contradict what she had just heard. Someone who would tell her that she was not engulfed in an endless series of lies and cover-ups. Someone who would deny the charge that working for the CIA was no better than working for SD-6. She wanted someone she trusted to tell her the truth, and she wanted that truth to be something she wanted to hear. She wanted her father, but most of all she wanted Michael Vaughn, and Michael Vaughn was dead.