Shattered Glass
Hayden Chase let out a small gasp as she drove up the winding drive to the three story mansion nestled in the Hollywood Hills. She parked her car in the driveway and got out. The grounds themselves were visually stunning, flowers and plants fit for the season bloomed around her, birds chirped high up in the trees, and the sun was shining. The house had a European elegance to it, with little touches from Italy, Germany, England, and France. And that was just the outside. Hayden felt a calming silence envelope her. No longer was she in the traffic and noise of Los Angeles, but rather she had just entered the world of the rich and privileged.
"Director Chase," said a voice from behind her. Hayden turned around and saw none other than Nathalia Bristow striding toward her. She looked like a million dollars, literally. The black Chanel pantsuit gave the 21 year-old mogul the air and sophistication of someone twice her age. The black Jimmy Choo three inch heels and minimal jewelry; a small diamond pendent on a platinum chain and diamond studs, however made a clear statement that said, "I'm rich and I know how to flaunt it but I don't unless I have to." Her sun kissed chestnut locks were flowing freely around her shoulders and Hayden felt a pang of sadness for this young woman. Nathalia was almost an exact replica of Irina Derevko in her looks, but her mannerisms were characteristic of her father, Jack. "Welcome to my home. I hope you had no trouble finding it?" Nathalia asked slipping into her natural speech pattern which included a hint of a French accent.
"No. None at all, your directions were perfect. You have a beautiful home," Hayden said as they walked into the foyer.
"Thank you," Nathalia replied leading her into the living room. "May I offer you a drink? I have mineral water, a variety of freshly squeezed juices, coffee, and of course a selection of wines, several kinds of Vodka and other spirits."
"A glass of white wine would be nice."
Nathalia smiled, "I am glad you said that because we will have several kinds during our meal today." She pour them both a glass of white wine suited for the appetizer laid out on the small table and handed her one.
"This is delicious," Hayden replied after taking a sip.
"Thank you. It is from my vineyard, La Belle Etoile"
"You own a vineyard?"
"I wanted to expand my interests just in case I decided I didn't want to design computer security systems for the rest of my life."
"What about ballet?"
"I only have a good 9 years, 12 or 13 at the most if I'm lucky before I would be forced to retire. And besides, I cannot spend these younger years of my life surrounded by prima donnas who are catty and spend their time obsessing about their image. The international press does a good job of that already and the last thing I need is to develop an eating disorder."
After a meal fitting of a four star restaurant, Nathalia got down to business.
"So Director Chase, what brings you to me?"
"As you know, the beureauracy and red tape that had surrounded the CIA in recent months makes it hard for our agents to get things done. That is why you decided to take a leave from the agency, am I correct?"
"Among other things, yes."
"A few months ago, I received approval to assemble a black ops unit of the CIA."
"Would this unit be similar to SD-6?"
"Yes, in fact speaking of SD-6, I have asked Arvin Sloane to direct the unit."
"But he is a criminal!"
"The agency knows that. But he proved his worth when he handed over a Rambaldi artifact."
"I see."
"I would like you to join the unit as an agent."
"You do?"
"Very much so, you have proven to be an invaluable asset to the CIA over the last few years. Will you consider my offer?"
"There is no need to consider your offer director. I accept it indefinitely."
Hayden smiled, "I am very happy to hear you say that. Now I know you just got back into LA last night. But I would like you to report to the location in the envelope I gave you earlier tomorrow at 9am if you can."
"It's not a problem Director Chase."
"Good, then welcome back to the CIA, Agent Bristow."
The next morning at APO, Arvin Sloane had everyone assembled in the conference room.
"Good morning everyone, I trust that everyone had a restful weekend. Before we begin today's briefing, I would like to introduce another important member of our unit." Arvin opened the door and Nathalia stepped in. "Welcome back Agent Bristow. Please have a seat."
"Thank you Mr. Sloane," Nathalia replied sitting down next to her sister wearing a black Louis Vuitton pantsuit, Manolo Blanik 3 inch heels and her hair pulled back in a tight bun.
After the briefing, Sydney pulled her sister aside.
"Why didn't you return my calls?" Sydney asked in a hushed voice.
"I didn't know you had called," Nathalia replied with a frown.
"Of course you didn't. You isolated yourself for 6 months."
"Sydney what is this about?"
"I need to talk to you, but not here. Can you come to my house tonight around 7?"
"Of course," Nathalia said feeling a feeling of uneasiness creep into her heart.
Later that night, Nathalia appeared at Sydney's dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans. When Sydney answered the door, the uneasiness Nathalia had felt earlier that day became stronger than ever. This uneasiness had caused Nathalia to bring a driver instead of driving herself. But when Nathalia saw Sydney's face, she knew it was a wise decision.
"Thank you for coming," Sydney said quietly.
"You're welcome," Nathalia replied as she closed the door and went to the sofa. "What do you need to talk to me about?"
"Mom."
"What about her Sydney?"
"Nathalia," Sydney paused and took a deep breath. She could barely bring herself to say it. It was painful for her. But Sydney knew that the pain that she felt would be only a fraction of what her sister would feel. She had grown up under the watchful eye of their mother. The pictures Nathalia had produced a few years earlier had made Sydney look beyond the betrayal and the hurt thrust upon her by her mother's fake death. The pictures and the stories Nathalia told made Irina human to Sydney. Not quite the mother she remembered, but no longer a cold terrorist. And then Sydney looked into the eyes of her sister. Beneath all of the designer clothes, wealth, and intelligence was a little girl that Nathalia hid so well from the outside world. And that little girl was about to be crushed
"Sydney, what about mom? Did something happen?" Nathalia's voice was calm, but her eyes showed a flicker of fear.
"Nathalia, mom is dead."
"What? Sydney be serious. Mom cannot be dead---"
"Dad killed her."
Nathalia's breath caught and that was all she heard. The rest of Sydney's words were lost to her. Her mind was swimming and the only thing she could think was that she had to leave. She stumbled to the door and ran out of the apartment, getting into the car before Sydney could come after her.
"Take me home," She said to her driver, fighting to keep her tone even
The big home in the Hollywood Hills felt like an empty mausoleum as Nathalia stepped inside. She went straight upstairs to her bedroom, her sanctuary. But the refuge that she sought quickly dissipated as Nathalia's eyes focused on a single picture on her fireplace mantel. Her family. For once, Nathalia, Sydney, and Jack were not in the stanch black business suits that accompanied their work at the CIA. But instead, they were in jeans and t-shirts, her father wore khakis and a polo shirt. They were smiling, which was a rare occurrence in their line of work. She quickly crossed the room intending to turn the picture over, but for some strange reason she couldn't. Instead, Nathalia held the picture in her hand, staring at it. And then it happened. Nathalia felt herself begin to fall, spiraling backwards into the deep waters of her emotions and then for the first time, the little girl Nathalia had learned to hide came into her consciousness and she cried.
The glass had finally shattered. The well constructed, highly polished image that Nathalia Bristow had fashioned over the years was gone. She was defenseless once more.
Five and a half years earlier….
Paris
Nathalia Bretov entered opened the front door of the home she shared with her mother and father. The 16 year-old went upstairs to the main level of the house, a small messenger bag balanced on her shoulder. Once on the main level, Nathalia removed her snow white parka and hung it in the closet in the front hall, the bag going with it. She wore a simple black leotard and black pants, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. There was a happy glow about her as she walked into the living room with the grace and poise indicative of her ballet training.
The snow fell lightly coating the city outside in a blanket of white magic. Nathalia watched as the lights of the Eiffel Tower flickered on in front of her. Most Parisians were tired of seeing this monument, but for Nathalia, this famous landmark warmed her heart, it made her feel truly at home.
"Nathalia," said a voice from behind her.
"Hello father," Nathalia said turning to see Alexander Khasinau with a glass of vodka in his hand. The small smile that graced her face quickly disappeared.
"Where were you this afternoon?" He asked his tone even.
"I took my last examination and then I spent the rest of the afternoon rehearsing for the show tonight."
Nathalia studied her father carefully as he came closer. Her face remained calm, giving away nothing. But fear crept up slowly around her heart like a serpent.
"You're lying to me," he said in a lower tone, stopping only a few inches from her face, invading her personal space. She could smell the vodka on his breath. But Nathalia did not flinch. "You were with that boy again weren't you?"
"What boy?" Nathalia asked confused.
Khasinau ignored her, "You smell of sex," he said inhaling. "You had sex with Rene didn't you?"
"No, I didn't. I swear to you I didn't," Nathalia said urgently.
"You are nothing but a lying whore!" he exclaimed slapping her soundly.
The slap echoed in the room and Nathalia's head snapped back and she put her hand to her cheek almost immediately.
"You betrayed me!" he said grabbing her arms forcefully and slamming her against the wall.
"I didn't betray you father. I swear I didn't."
"You lying little slut!" He said slamming her to the ground. He kicked her once in the chest and she yelped in pain. "I don't want you to see that boy again, do you understand me? Nathalia said nothing and he kicked her again. She whimpered.
"Yes father, I understand," she said softly.
"Good," Khasinau replied picking up the glass of vodka he had set down on the mantle earlier. "Now get up, you have a show to do." And with that, he turned on his heel and left the room.
Nathalia got up slowly. She knew she had at least cracked two ribs, but she tried not to think about that or the pain. The show had to go on and so did she. After rising very painfully, she went through the door directly across from the window and walked down the hall, the lights of the Eiffel Tower faded, making her appear like an angel on the way to hell.
The Present Day
APO
Jack's office
Jack Bristow never considered himself a sentimental man. After Irina had left the first time, Jack kept work and his personal life separate. He didn't even keep pictures of Sydney at work. But that was more due to the fact that he couldn't face the guilt that plagued him about keeping Sydney at such a distance when she was younger.
That was not the case today however. Jack kept one photo on his desk now. It was the only family picture that Jack had ever taken with both of his children. Nathalia and Sydney insisted that the photo be taken in order to commemorate the day. They had all decided to get together for lunch at a restaurant near the ocean and afterward, they had all sat on the rock wall facing the ocean just off the deck and taken the picture, one daughter on either side of him.
That was right before he received the news of Irena's betrayal. He had to eliminate Irina, for the safety of his children. Sydney had called him earlier, informing him coldly that Nathalia had been told the news. Jack knew he had been a coward for not telling her himself. But Nathalia's reaction would have broken him, he knew that for sure. Jack was ashamed to admit that he couldn't face his own daughter. It was not so much because of the closer relationship Nathalia and her mother shared, but rather that Jack had been thinking more about Sydney's well being than hers. He had been cold and ruthless that night, something that Nathalia could never stomach coming from him. It was a reminder of the past. A past that he would give anything to erase.
Los Angeles
SD-6 Headquarters
Arvin Sloane's office
"You wanted to see me?" Jack Bristow asked walking into Arvin Sloane's office.
"Yes Jack," Arvin said looking up from his computer. He indicated for his friend to sit. "I have an assignment for you."
Jack took the folder offered to him and opened it, coming face to face with the portrait of a young woman who was no more than 16.
"Her name is Nathalia Bretov. But her real name is actually Nathalia Khasinau and her program is the one that protects all of Irina Derevko's files located the in bible. After Derevko's disappearance, Ms. Bretov became the most sought after person in the world for her services as a computer programmer and computer security expert and for information on how to open the files on the disk in the bible. K-Directorate and the SVR are after her as well as the Alliance. I want you to bring her here. I don't expect her to tell us about the bible files. But I want to recruit her before anyone else. She will be able to provide us with more than the bible files. If we recruit her, we will be able to see into other organizations."
"Where is her mother?"
"No one knows where she is or even who she is. But there are rumors that she is Derevko's."
"If she is Derevko's, why isn't she in hiding?"
"In addition to being a computer genius, Bretov is on the edge of becoming one of the youngest members of the Paris Opera Ballet. She is widely known in the dance community, so her disappearance would not have gone unnoticed. According to Mr. Sark, she will be dancing as a soloist in tonight's performance of the Nutcracker."
"Why not send Mr. Sark then?"
"Because Jack, I trust you."
Jack was drawn out of his reverie by a knock on his door. It was late, who would be at APO at this hour? The door opened without waiting for a response from him. Nathalia stood in the doorway staring at him. She was composed once more, but the look in her eyes brought him back to the first time that they had met.
Paris
Opéra Ballet de Paris
10:30pm
Every muscle protested her movements as Nathalia walked from the backstage area to her dressing room. Her ribs still throbbed despite the Motrin and the ace bandage she had put on before the show. The important thing however, was that the show was over and she hadn't doubled over in pain on stage. Nathalia tried not to think about what might be waiting for her when she returned home. Her ribs throbbed more at the thought. In a corner, Jack watched as she passed and then just as Nathalia reached the door of the dressing room, Jack grabbed her from behind, arms going around her body. Spots danced in Nathalia's eyes as the arms made contact with her bruised, cracked ribs.
"I don't know who you are," Nathalia said in a strained voice. "But I will do anything you want, just let go of me please."
Jack was surprised but did as she asked and watched as she bent over clutching her ribs. After a few moments, she straightened up and looked at him.
"Are you alright?" Jack asked concerned about the fact that this young woman had cracked ribs.
"I'm fine. Who are you and what do you want with me?"
"I represent an organization that is very interested in your work with computers."
"You are not the first to approach me and you won't be the last. But I will tell you the same thing I told every other company representative. I cannot help you. My work is strictly for my family and that is it. My father will see to it that it stays that way."
"Is he the one that hurt you?"
Nathalia looked at him, her eyes flashing in anger. "That's none of your concern, now if you'll excuse me—"
Nathalia started to walk away and Jack pulled out a small tranquilizer dart and shot her in the back of her neck. She managed to look at him as he bent to catch her in his arms. It was there she succumbed to the darkness that had been threatening to over take her for so long.
"Why?" Nathalia asked quietly.
"I had to protect you and Sydney."
"That's a lie. You did it to protect yourself. Did you not think I wouldn't have noticed eventually? She betrayed you over and over again and the only way to dull the pain of those betrayals was to kill her."
"Nathalia, you're not being rational. What you mother and I had was complicated."
"That still doesn't change the fact that you loved each other. I know that she loved you. I saw it in her eyes when she was here. How could you kill her?"
"She was a threat Nathalia."
"She was my mother."
An Undisclosed Location
Irina Derevko watched helplessly as her daughter struggled to come to grips with her death. Nathalia had grown up so much in such a short time. She was no longer a quiet teenager, like the one she had been in Paris. She was now a young woman. Irina longed to tell her that everything was a lie, that she was still alive.
But that was not to be.