Alternate Existence
She was just sixteen. She never wanted this. She never wanted any of it. She didn't want to be an agent. She didn't want to even learn to fight. And most of all, she didn't want to learn her mother was a foreign spy.
Chapter 11: Epilogue
Months flew by monotonously, as Sydney w as coached and molded into the perfect Lina Derevko. Her mother saw the changes in her daughter as she was introduced to more and more of the organization, and she grieved it. But there was nothing she could do now.
Khasinau, however, was pleased by the changes. By seventeen, Sydney had learned enough Russian to not only converse in it, but to keep up with Khasinau himself when he spoke rapidly in anger or frustration. She had started on two other languages as well. Khasinau himself called her in for a briefing one two months before her eighteenth birthday, a previously rare event.
"You are ready, Angelina," Khasinau said in Russian. "I have a mission for you."
Sydney's heart beat a little faster, but she made no outward show of anxiety. All outward shows of emotions had long since been trained out of her. Even Jeffrey had noticed.
"Yes, sir?" she replied calmly in her mother's native tongue.
"I want you to go to Spain. Madrid, actually. You're to locate and report on the head of a rogue group planning to overthrow the Spanish government. The group could be a serious threat to all of Europe. Simple reconnaissance is all."
"Yes, sir," Sydney replied calmly, taking the maroon folder he handed her with a steady hand and an outward show of bold confidence.
Her CIA counter mission was only to report the target and any information on him she acquired back to them so that they could determine what the KGB is planning.
Her mission was successful, as was the next, and the next. By the time she was nineteen, she was a high-ranking officer, inside Khasinau's most intimate circle of agents. He'd reveal to her their true affiliations, and she had managed an ironic smirk.
"I've known your secret for months, Mr. Khasinau," she'd said, never having abandoned addressing him that way. "I'm still not as naïve as I once was. I'm still here, aren't I?"
I hate my life sometimes, but even now al I have to do is think of Jessie, and my sight of the purpose is restored. We will take down the KGB some day, Denosivich and I. He's been my handler for three years now, but the director has finally decided they should risk giving me a real handler, directly from the CIA. Agent Kendall. He seems to be high up.
My father finally decided he hates New York enough to transfer back to LA. Even after three years, he and I are nowhere near the plane we were on when I was a child. We never will be, and we're finally both resigned to that.
I miss Jeffrey. He's gone off to college, and he knows we can't risk writing anything important, nor can we call. As soon as this God damned agency is history, I'm just going to show up on his doorstep. But that could be years.
willThe End