Chapter Nine


UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

An unconscious Jack had been plonked unceremoniously onto a hard pallet at the back of his cell an hour earlier; the sedative he had been given had ensured he would not be waking for a while. His captors had been told he would not allow himself to be taken without a fight. Indeed, that had proven true, even as he had started to succumb to the drugs effects he had leveled a cold, hard and steely gave as each and every one of them, right up until the last second when his eyelids drooped shut and his head lolled to the side. But most of all he had scrutinized the woman that he had met him at the docks; the one he was certain now had lured him to her. All a pretense.

As Jack started to come around the one thought above all others kept him going the bitch was going to pay he silently vowed to himself venomously.

For the first five minutes or so after he woke he remained still, his eyes tight shut. He wanted to get a feel for his current location, hear what he could, as he allowed his senses to recoup. As it was he did not gain very much information. Though he could feel someone watching him, and he knew with solid certainty who it was; his blood boiled. Further away the sound of a door closing traveled to him and then two people conversing; though he could not discern anything. Eventually he knew he would have to open his eyes and face the person he most wanted to lash out at, but he was holding off. Slowly however he did open his eyes, firstly staying in his current vertical position to check the roof of his cell for surveillance equipment. He saw none.

He took shot of his surroundings; the walls and ceiling were white, sterile like a hospital. Jack turned his head to the left and noticed a see through partition that appeared to be glass, seperated his cell from the next. The floor, instead of being hard and cold, stone or concrete, was, to his surprise, carpeted; and in the same colour as the rest of the place. The temperature was also comfortable.

It was inevitable that he would have to face the occupant of the other cell; and so, with a hard and determined demeanor, he locked gazes with his wife.

She was standing also, directly behind the partition, her arms crossed behind her back. She watched him with that intense gaze he knew so well. As Jack rose into a seating position he realised his own hands were bound in front of him. The two of them stayed that way for a short time, neither hiding the fact that they were, in essence, checking each other out. Both had long ceased to be coy.

At last Jack stood and in three small strides was inches from her, the moments leading up to the broken silence were intense, as things always tended to be with Jack and Irina.

A cold smile graced his lips before he utter his firsts words to her; his tone was even and held none of the bitterness he felt. "You fooled me again, Irina. For a few hours I actually considered avenging your death," he laughed harshly. "And here I am, speaking to you." He leant in closer; his breath clouded the glass. "Next time stay dead." He had grieved for her, watched helplessly as Sydney blamed herself and cried the loss of her mother a second time. The murderous feeling that had gripped him before learning 'the truth' was now aimed unwavering at one person, and she was standing right in front of him.

Irina, for her part, did not seem moved by his cutting words. She wore a mask of calm indifference, her head tilted to one side and she appeared only curious. It infuriated him. In side however, his comments bit at her, caused her heart to plummet and the nauseous feeling she had developed at the beginning of all this returned. Why did everything have to be so difficult? She knew he spoke out of pain, betrayal and anger; but Jack did not know the truth. By the looks of things he would not believe anything she had to say for now. "You don't have all the facts, Jack. When you do everything will become clear," Irina told him, remaining soft-spoken. "Then you will not feel this way."

His eyes narrowed and he spat out, "do not presume to know how I will feel."

"I know you," Irina pointed out. She truly was not trying to goad him, but it appeared he did not think so.

He eyed her tauntingly. "You think you know me? Perhaps at one time you did, but now I can honestly say. With absolute certainty, that I hate you." He said it so easily it was hard to believe he spoke the truth. But it was all in the eyes.

The only sign that he had affected her in any way was the minute tensing of her jaw, the way she drew her head up. Irina recovered quickly, which was no less than he expected. "You have said that before – and then came Panama," she retorted, and appeared thoughtful, "those were not the actions of a man filled with hate."

Jack simply scoffed, an eyebrow quirked. "Well everybody needs a release sometimes, Irina. It was a choice of one nights meaningless sex or shooting you. At the time I believed the former would be slightly more pleasurable," he answered callously.

Irina did not miss a beat; though inside she was debating whether to screw him or strangle him. She was divided evenly between the two for now. "Well you could have hired a local prostitute," she suggested as though the thought did not bring a stirring of jealousy.

"I was going to but decided there really was no difference," he paused as if contemplating that. "Except you were completely free, of course." Was that a pang of guilt that hit him then? He quelled it fiercely, pushing it back into the part of him that sought to hide things he made himself believed he regretted.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted; whatever the motives behind it." She ran her tongue over bottom lip, thinking.

Jack was partially disappointed there had been no other reaction. He peered passed her into the cell she was currently stood in, deliberately avoiding looking at the woman in front of him. It was identical to his own; it did beg the question of why exactly Irina was imprisoned in the first place. "Have a disagreement with your employers?"

She followed his line of sight to cast a glance about her 'room'. Irina was suddenly hesitant, reluctant to speak though she did so after a brief interval, and leant a tiny bit closer to the glass. "They were never my employers," she told him a second before grimacing and rapidly bringing her hand up to clutch the nape of her neck as though experiencing a sudden onset of pain.

A flash of worry flittered across his face even as he sought to appear impartial. But, in that instance his stoic façade was already broken. And, he realised, so was Irina's. She let out a shaky breath, and then caught his concern. There was no satisfaction at discovering his deeply hidden secret though. "What just happened?"

Irina rubbed the spot at the back of her neck where she had felt all too keenly, the mild electric shock. "A gift from the Covenant," she answered dryly.

LOS ANGELES

Sydney, Vaughn, Marshall, Will, Dixon and Peter were all seated around the table in the briefing room. The ex-reporter fiddled anxiously with the pen in front of him as he waited for the impromptu meeting to begin. He blamed himself for Jack's disappearance; if he had just gone against Jack's orders and told Sydney the truth a proper team could have been set up in time to ensure his safety and he would not have been taken. He looked at each of the people sitting gravely in the room; he settled lastly on Sydney. She was sat ramrod straight in her chair; her hands rested on the table in front pf her. She was putting on a front for them he knew that. There was no way this could not have affected her. Only hours before she had been crying her eyes out.

Now she looked mad, the anger was bubbling just below the surface. She had been lied to. Again. Only this time it was worse. The sadness and guilt at killing her own mother had been overwhelming; the bulk of emotions had shaken her. And now that same woman that had caused it had double-crossed her so maliciously. Needless to say Sydney was severely pissed.

"As you know a few hours ago we received confirmation that Irina Derevko is in fact alive and working for the Covenant," Dixon started the briefing.

Peter who replied vehemently interrupted him. "Irina would never work for the Covenant. Never." All eyes turned on the German informant; Sydney was interested in what he had to say. He was her only link to her mother; to the hope that she had not turned."

"Peter…You know that I want that to be true…but she led my father into a trap! She shot him and helped the Covenant agents take him away," Sydney answered despairingly.

But Peter would not be budged from his opinion. "She will have her reasons, good reasons. She would not do this willingly."

"Well so far we have nothing to go on," Dixon pointed out. He glanced at Sydney sympathetically out of the corner of his eyes. She was fixated on the picture Will had taken; the imagine that showed her mother aiming at her father. "Any more information you can give might be helpful."

Peter nodded in understanding. "I know people, maybe they can offer assistance."

Sydney tore her gaze away from the photograph and spoke, resolute. "I want to under again; if Peter can't help my memories might."

Sydney was waiting impatiently in the chair she had become so familiar with the past week; the Doctor, the same one present in previous sessions, was preparing to start. Vaughn was stood beside the young agent, holding her hands in a comforting gesture. He was apprehensive though and voiced his concern, "are you sure you're ready for this again so soon? You don't need me to remind you what happened the last time."

"I know…but I have to try. I can't sit by and do nothing," she breathed in deeply, preparing herself mentally for the task she had to undertake. Unlocking her memories was not easy. Not with the things that had happened to her. "Hey," she nudged him and smiled, "when this is all over we still have to tell my dad…"

"Ah," he grinned almost giddily. "I can't wait for B that /B conversation," Vaughn said, feigning enthusiasm.

"He'll be happy," Sydney nodded confidently. "Though just in case you should watch his reaction from a safe distance."

"Thank you…that's very encouraging," he joked.

The light banter was serving to make her feel better and, in Vaughn's opinion, she did look better. They both ceased conversation as the Doctor interrupted. "Ready?"

"I'll be right there," Vaughn told her and let go of her hand to walk into the small room where the Doctor was also going to be, conducting the session.

And with his departure the sense of foreboding returned. Sydney answered with steely resolve. "I'm ready."