Chapter Five
"What happened?" there was the sound of running feet pounding down the corridor, two sets that slowed to a stop.
There was a pause and the familiar voice of Jack Bristow broke the silence. "I don't know," he sounded indignant as he looked at his daughters' look of uncertainty upon hearing his reply. Jack was knelt on the ground, unconsciously, as he spoke, his thumb stroked the top of her hair, and her head was lying on his lap, eyes tight shut.
"She's waking up" that was the third voice, Vaughn. He sounded indifferent, neither overly concerned nor completely uncaring. He was still uncertain about Irina; it was one of the points that he and Jack wholeheartedly agreed on. The voices sounded closer then as the three people knelt next to the prone form of Irina.
"We were talking and she just collapsed" now there was a man that sounded a little worried, confused certainly. Her eyes fluttered open and took in the faces of the two men and woman, Jack moved his arm forward and his hand now came to rest on her forehead. "She's burning up," he told Sydney and Vaughn. "Can you stand?" he directed the question at the now more alert woman. She nodded groggily and stood on her own, not allowing the others to help her. She leant against the banister and masked the pain she felt by looking behind her to the bathroom so they couldn't see her face.
"Did you find a first aid kit?" Irina asked before they could begin the questioning that would not doubt come in a minute or two. She felt like she had just woken from a bizarre dream but instead of the events fading from her mind upon waking everything was crystal clear. Sloane had warned her of this, had gloated as he told her what the poison he had administered would do to her. He had let her know that an antidote was within arms reach, literally. He had left the bottle just outside the bars of her cell while he lazed back in his comfortable leather chair. The left hand that was resting on the banister clenched the wood, the only visible outward sign that she was angry. Angry was a gross understatement. "The wound will need stitching, Jack. Either I do it now or you wait until we reach the hospital, but the longer it's left the higher the risk of infection" it sounded like she was just brushing off what had happened a few minutes earlier, she definitely didn't look like a woman that had just collapsed.
To Jack she didn't look like the woman he had just let out of the underground cell, his suspicions rose with each passing second. She was radiating authority and he didn't like that one bit, "I'm well aware of the risks" he answered a little sharply, considering she was talking about his well being. "And no offence but I'm not letting you anywhere near me with a needle" she turned around and he saw her roll her eyes, both aware that he was being stupidly stubborn.
"That isn't what you said thirty two years ago" Irina retorted without thinking, she spoke of an old memory that flashed into her mind.
Sydney and Vaughn looked at them both in interest, waiting to see where the verbal sparring would take the two others. It hit Sydney first "you remember something that happened thirty two years ago? Five minutes ago you didn't even know who we were" it wasn't only Jack now that had the feeling that Irina had pulled one over on them again.
The second she had mentioned the years old incident he was going to come back with a somewhat harsh comment, perhaps something along the lines of "in those days I trusted you" and then he too realised that something was wrong with what she had said. Jack was ready to throw her back into the cell he had broken her out of. It was quite simple actually, he didn't want to hear whatever story she was about to come up with to explain away her obscure behaviour because, and in all likelihood it was a pack of lies. Nobody would blame him if he took her back to her prison and left her there. But an annoying voice at the back of his active mind told him to wait just a second, to hear her out because she might end up telling the truth. As much as Jack would love to believe that everything she said was an untruth, he couldn't because it was not true. It made it hard to hate her.
"Irina..." he prompted her to speak in a warning tone of voice. His patience wasn't everlasting, he would take her back to the cell screaming and kicking if that was what it took, no matter what the little voice at the back of his mind said.
She stood defiantly for a second; she was not in CIA custody now, he couldn't make her give him information. But then Irina decided that she owed him her co-operation, at least for now, he had helped her after all. Without him she would still be trapped, herself on minute and a woman without a past or foreseeable future the next. She would give him the short version; tell him only what he needed to know. The cliff notes version of the truth. "As I'm sure you've gathered by now I was imprisoned by Sloane..." even in the dark of the basement the speakers had been placed, even though she had not understood Sark's one way conversation then, now she did. "You don't need to know why I was there --."
"Yes we do" Jack interrupted sternly. He wanted to know everything.
Irina's answer was short and curt. "No you don't, now you wanted to know what happened earlier and I will tell you but if you interrupt I will leave you with the speculations and theories that I have no doubt you are coming up with even as I speak." She waited for him to answer and was satisfied when he grudgingly motioned for her to continue. He wanted to know everything, Irina had known that he would but he would rather learn a little bit than nothing at all. Though she was ready for him to try and weasel more answers from her later on. "Sloane wants something from me, something which I refused to give him. He tried numerous ways to obtain the information he desired but none of them worked. Finally, yesterday, he tried something different...I don't know what it was exactly; it was a concoction that he has had scientists working on for a while now. I don't know what was in it exactly but it was administered via injection." Jack remembered the cuts on her arms, he had seen them when she had collapsed, and he figured she must have got them from fighting whomever it was that gave her the injection. He couldn't help feeling strangely proud- -she would have given them hell.
"There's a Lab underneath Sloane's study. It's empty now but that must've been where they were working" Sydney spoke up, voicing her findings.
Irina nodded; she had seen it when she had first been taken to the basement. "The effects are...painful," she admitted. "It comes and goes but it gets progressively worse – he was hoping that to save myself I would tell him what he wanted to know, he left the antidote just far enough away that I couldn't reach it" she saw it again, the cell, the untouched food, the vial of clear liquid just a centimetre or two out of her reach. She tensed for a second, breathing deeply "up until then this concoction was untested, eventually one of the scientists would have been a guinea pig but there wasn't time for that...there was a side effect" she smiled, it was a most ironic side effect and the look of utter frustration and anger on Sloane's face when he had found out was one to relish. If ever there was a moment to have a camera handy.
Jack as well as Sydney and Vaughn had an idea of what the side effect was but they let Irina continue the tale uninterrupted. "It produces severe memory loss...I don't know how it works but it comes and goes, when it happens I know that I'm supposed to remember things...it's as though the memories are right there but I can't reach them" she struggled to explain what happened, it was so frustrating. Through the years she had had to become many people, to have new identities. To wake up and have none at all was a living nightmare. It scared her.
"I started to pretend I couldn't remember when I actually could, it was easy, Sloane had no way of knowing if I was making it up or not. And then an hour or so before you came he and Sark came to me and said they were leaving. At that point I truly had no idea who they were..." she had known instinctively that they were more foe than friend but even so she remembered not wanting them to leave her, they had been her only connection to herself and then they had walked away...
They watched Irina carefully, trying to decide if what she said was true or if she was lying. It appeared as though Irina was telling them the truth but her was a woman that had to lie frequently, to make things up, it was part of what she did. She had built lie upon lie with Jack for ten years. Jack was watching Irina pretty closely; he saw the range of emotion that flashed across her eyes. He still didn't want to believe that she was telling them the truth; it was simpler to believe she had lied. It made it easier to see her as the enemy.
While Vaughn and Sydney had been looking for the first aid kit they had relayed what had happened to base ops. The helicopter was on its way to pick them up; it would be there within a couple of more minutes. Pretty soon Irina would be back in CIA custody, it would be a repeat performance of the last time. "You'll both be taken to the hospital, once you've been cleared to leave we'll head back to LA" Vaughn spoke to Jack and Irina, the latter of which began to shake her head.
"I'm not going back to CIA custody" she steadfastly refused that. They had expected her to so it came as no surprise, if they were in her position they would not have been jumping at the chance either.
"You don't have a choice" Vaughn responded. He looked to Jack to see him step forward towards Irina who watched her husband warily.
"There is always a choice Agent Vaughn" was Irina's reply. She had expected this; she had not seriously believed that she would be allowed to leave.
Jack began to speak. He had her in his grasp there was no way he was going to let her go, he would not let her out of his sight. "Fine, we'll go to the hospital and take it from there" Jack made it sound like there would be options.
Irina wanted to believe that but she knew it wasn't. "I have no reason to trust you," she didn't sound harsh or angry, merely resigned to the fact.
Jack's gaze grew cold at her words; it was like a slap in the face. She could not trust him? "Then we're both in the same boat" was his caustic reply. It was like they were back to square one, trading insults, another round in the battle of wits and words. They could hear the helicopter now; it was landing and Vaughn excused himself to go outside. Jacque was still out there, no doubt wandering around panicking about what was going on inside. They would need to speak to him further and then the Frenchman would be held in custody while it was decided what to do with him.
Sydney stepped closer to her parents. She glanced at each of them and in tangent they turned their heads to face her, the youngest Bristow looked at them sternly. "Stop it" she ordered and walked after Vaughn. Her parents were standing in the same room as one another, she had found her mother again and though Sydney didn't know how she felt about that she wasn't going to stand by and listen to them bait each other again.
Irina made to walk next when Jack's hand found it's way to her arm, he pulled her back, effectively stopping her from going anywhere. He looked at her questioningly "you mentioned, fleetingly, that it will get progressively worse. How much worse?"
She thought back on not so long ago, his hand on her forehead checking her temperature, he actually looked worried and then the cold, calm and detached Jack had returned. And now? A mixture of both, or maybe it was just morbid curiosity on his part. "I can't remember" it was an obvious lie and it was plain she would use the side effect to her advantage, as with Sloane, no one would know when she meant it or not. But Jack knew. He had seen the slight movements that told him she was in pain. "Jack..." he paused and waited for her to continue, "I don't want to wake up in CIA custody and have no idea why I'm there" she looked away form him them and carried on walking in the direction that Vaughn and Sydney had gone before her, Jack followed closely behind. The admission, coming from Irina, could have meant anything but he had seen her in the cell before when she had no memories. Jack could not be sure but he thought she was telling him that that part of her, the amnesiac that she had no control over, would be afraid.
Jack did not want her to be, he wanted to keep her safe. He was going to wring Sloane's neck.