COLLATERAL DAMAGE

Eyghon

Author's notes: I'm not an expert on 'Alice in Wonderland', I only saw the Disney movie, once, and I barely remember it, but here is a good website about the movie (see extract below): http: changed a few minor details from the show, it's barely noticeable but I didn't want to complicate things with the explanation for Sydney. Thanks for the reviews, you guys are amazing ! I have a beta reader now, Lenafan, she's incredible. She's doing such a great job, you have no idea ! Thanks L !

Chapter 7: Who are you?

Jack was not an emotionless man. He was a CIA agent. During his thirty years of service, he had learned the art of compartmentalizing. He had mastered it by obligation, so he could constantly…not work, but be…at the top of his game.

Over the years, he had shed many tears, tears of joy, pain, sadness. He had cried for lost friends, for his deceased wife. Being a widower had been hard at first, he missed his wife, but soon after the funeral, they arrested him for treason. His spouse was not who he thought she was. She was a fraud, an enemy agent. She had played him for years and he had never doubted her, not once. He cried for hours after being told that his whole marriage was nothing but a sham. He did not cry from embarrassment, but from pain… an unbearable pain that sometimes came to haunt him at night. After that, he knew he would not cry ever again. He wouldn't be able to. He was empty.

Emotions were always getting in the way in that line of work. It was suicide to feel on the job. When he was doing anything work related, whether it was in the field, in his office at HQ or in his study at home, he would shut himself down. Nothing could get to him this way. He could think clearly, strategize. He was invincible when he didn't let himself feel.
Over the years, the line between work and personal life became blurry, then nonexistent. He had put himself so deeply into his work that he had forgotten what real life was like.

After getting out of solitary, he came back home. 'Home', was a notion that had brought warmth into him at night, when he was far away from home on assignment. The moment he set foot in his house, he knew that 'home' would never be the same again. It wasn't 'home' anymore. It lacked the warmth, the love…Laura. It was not an empty word for him; it would have been too easy. On the contrary, it was a reminder of his foolishness. His 'home' had been a farce for more than a decade and he would never get to think of it in any other way.

Sydney was the living proof of that. Since her birth, both parents had known that she was taking after her mother. Now that she was a woman, though Jack had a hard time admitting it, she looked exactly like her. She could easily be recognized as Irina's child by anyone who had seen a picture of her mother.

While watching the video file on his computer, he had concentrated on the man and on the background. He had needed to find out where his daughter was and as much as possible about the man performing the beating. It had also helped him not to focus too hard on Sydney and what was being done to her.

The forty-eight hours delay was about to expire. Jack had managed to get his hands on the disk the day before. He had entrusted it to an old friend, a genius in computing. The CIA had the disk for almost two weeks and made very little progress. There was no reason the SVR could do better. Jack asked his friend to encrypt a special program in the CD. It would destroy it at a given time, determined by Jack, in a week or so.

He couldn't come empty-handed to the meeting that he knew would soon take place. He couldn't give the man the means to destroy the CIA either. It had seemed like the best solution, he just hoped that Sydney would be with him when the SVR discovered it had been tricked.

Irina was angry, angry at herself. This was not supposed to happen, Sydney was not supposed to get hurt. She started this mess knowing it wouldn't be a joy ride for her daughter, but she didn't think she would get hurt. Worse, it was not just a blow to the head, it was torture, pure and simple. She had been exposed to Nikolai's animalistic rage. Not one part of her body had been spared. She would most likely bear scars for years.

If only Jack hadn't been so stubborn, so arrogant! It was so typical of him! He would do anything for his country, God knows, he had done terrible things and still did…but he would never betray his agency for his own daughter. An agency, which put him in jail for months, while knowing he was innocent and that his daughter needed him.

The man was such a fool, how could he behave so stupidly as to sacrifice his child for a disk?

The woman knew many agents like Jack; they were good at their job. They were literally devoted to it and it kept them from feeling any emotion. Her father was like that. He wasn't home often, always on assignment. When he finally returned, after weeks of absence, he would be different, colder. Progressively, over the years, he ceased to laugh at his daughter's silliness, at his wife's jokes. He wouldn't play with his kids anymore, wouldn't help them in their homework. He became distant and bitter, just like Jack was.

During their marriage, she remembered Jack as a wonderful husband, father, and friend. She now realised it was partially her doing. She had kept him 'human' and when she left, he had lost that humanity, like many of his fellow agents had before him. When coming to America, she didn't think such a man could exist; she was told that every American man was a retarded, selfish pig.

Sydney still seemed somewhat 'disconnected' when Irina laid her in her bed, less than one hour later. She had cleaned her, dressed her wounds, and put her in a pair of sweat pants and a tank top.

When they arrived in the house in Peterhof, Nikolai took a bedroom downstairs while Irina chose to stay as close as possible to Sydney. She took the room next to her. It was a child's room, Irina could tell from the abundance of stuffed animals. It reminded her of Sydney's room when she was little. The girl must have had more than one hundred stuffed bears and rabbits, among other species.

Irina found a few books in the shelves, including an edition of "Alice in Wonderland." She had thought she would never ever see that book again. It was not that it was unavailable in Russia; she could have found it easily. It was just too painful to think of anything related to her precious baby girl back then. When she came back to Russia, every little thing would take her down memory lane…childish laughter, kids playing in the snow. Sydney loved snow; she could play for hours and wouldn't even stop when frozen. She wondered if Sydney had learned skiing after her mother's 'death'. It's the kind of thing you do with your parents. They teach you how to have a swing, how to swim, ski, ride a bicycle without the tiny wheels.

When you are a teenager, they teach you how to stay safe. Irina hadn't been around for the last twelve years of her daughter's life. She had missed so many things! Could she make up for that now? It seemed unlikely. However, she was getting ahead of herself here. She tried to concentrate on the book she had been holding in a death grip for the last few minutes.

She used to read the story to Sydney when she was little. The young girl would never get tired of it, nor would she let her mother skip a few pages without moaning about it. Jack bought her the Disney movie, but she didn't like it as much as she did the book.

Irina started reading mostly to take her eyes off her daughter's blank face. She was also hoping that it would catch Sydney's attention, somehow. She was now starting Chapter 3, entitled "A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale."

'Speak English!' said the Eaglet. I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do either!' And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly.

What I was going to say,' said the Dodo in an offended tone, was that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.'

What IS a Caucus-race?' said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that SOMEBODY ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.

Sydney had been growing more and more aware of her surroundings for the last hour. She felt better now, warm, comfy. She could hear a voice. Someone was talking non-stop. It made her feel somewhat… safe. She let the feminine voice sooth her, an odd sense of déjà vu nagging at the back of her mind.

Irina had been lifting her eyes from her book every now and then, watching for any change in her daughter's behaviour. She interrupted her reading in the middle of a paragraph, Dodo was about to reveal who won the course. She turned her head towards the door, thinking that Nikolai was the source of her discomfort, but no one was there. She still felt like she was being watched and her eyes wandered towards her daughter.

She found herself facing a wide-awake Sydney, a familiar pair of brown eyes staring right back at her. The younger girl was frozen, mouth open in shock. Irina gasped. Realization hitting her at what she saw on her daughter's face.

Recognition.

Lost in her memories of happier times, Irina didn't notice that she had lost her Russian accent to the American one while reading aloud. The sweet, warm voice of Laura somehow got to Sydney's unconscious, thus jolting her out of her catatonic-like state.

Irina had waited twelve years for this moment to happen…the moment, where she would be face to face with her daughter. At the time, she didn't know when it would happen, how old Sydney would be, where they would meet. Over the years, she had wondered, would Sydney recognize her, would she hug her, cry maybe? She had no answers, and still didn't. The circumstances were tricky; it was a variable even she couldn't predict.

Today, here, at that moment, there was no more hiding behind a mask, in the shadows. She was physically and emotionally exposed, naked. She was Laura again, the tender mother who wore her emotions on her sleeve and would do anything for her baby girl. She had never ceased to be emotional, but had hid it. There was no backing out now, it was too late, she had been 'made'.

For the first time in years, facing that young woman, she felt vulnerable and uncertain. Before this whole idea formed in her head, she had never thought, not once, that Sydney could be unhappy to see her, that she was making the wrong decision by finally revealing herself.

Growing uncomfortable, she wondered if she should speak up now or let Sydney take the first step. The young woman seemed to be struggling to speak, but no words would come out of her mouth. Unable to take the deafening silence anymore, she tentatively reached out, stroking the girl's face. Sydney backed off as if burnt.

Irina felt stinging tears in her eyes, but held them off. She had to be strong for now, for her daughter.

"Sydney…" After she left America for Russia, she thought she would never get to say that name again. She was proven wrong in Kashmir when she called out that name for hours at night, in her nightmares, during the torture she endured…she loved her too much to let go completely, and the KGB had punished her daily for that. She had called out for Jack too, but now he wasn't the same Jack she had married. Sydney wasn't the same either, but it was because she had grown up. Jack didn't have that excuse, he didn't grow up, he had changed. He had mutated to become some kind of stone cold, emotionless man.

The horrified look on Sydney's face when she called out her name was more than Irina could endure. Both sat there for what seemed like hours, crying, unable to talk or even look at each other. After seeing her daughter's reaction, Irina had felt ashamed and unworthy.

Sydney didn't understand what was happening, she felt like her whole world was crumbling, nothing was making sense and nothing seemed real. She let herself slide to the floor on the side of the bed and huddled in a corner, away from her.

"I'm sorry I left you with Nikolai… I didn't know…" It was the best Irina could come up with for the moment. She dumbly hoped the other issue would resolve itself if they didn't talk about it.

"Who are you?" asked Sydney in an emotionless, flat voice.

The older woman was taken aback by the sudden question and felt herself shut down. She briskly lifted her head, meeting Sydney's inquiring gaze. Reassured, she saw only questions there, no accusations. Of course, Sydney had questions; they were legitimate.

Slowly, she got off the chair and walked to the other side of the room, where Sydney still sat. She gracefully got down on the floor, mirroring her daughter's position against the bed. She was dying to take her in her arms, never to let her go, but rushing things would only worsen the situation.

"I think you know who I am. I'm your mother, Sydney," she quietly replied.

"I… that's not possible…" She was shaking her head in denial.

"I know what you think, but I can assure you it's me." After a silence, she added, "I am sorry I left you." She was sincere, giving Sydney up as a child had been the hardest thing she had ever done.

They had been facing each other but Sydney had stubbornly kept her gaze riveted on the floor. She lifted her head defiantly and spoke up, "My mother died in a car accident twelve years ago. Her name was Laura Bristow and…"

"…an alias. My real name is Irina Derevko. I was born Russian and left for America when I was eighteen. I choose to call myself 'Laura Matthews' and pretended to be from Minnesota because the US government was very wary of Russian immigrants at the time. I went by 'Laura Bristow' after I married your father. When I left you and your father to go back in Russia, I also took back my given name

Sydney looked at her disbelievingly, shaking her head. "That's bullsht."

"Then why did you seem so shocked when you woke up earlier? When I was reading to you?" She was losing patience; her daughter was so stubborn!

"You're not her!"

"Then why do I look so much like her?" She replied softly. She had to shake things up now while Sydney was still listening or else they wouldn't get anywhere. "Do you remember when you were little, 'Alice in Wonderland' was your favourite story. You would beg me to read it to you every week. You knew the lines by heart and you were only five years old!"

"Shut up!" Yelled an angry, teary-eyed Sydney.

Irina was finally getting through to her, now if she just pushed the right buttons. "Your favourite character was the white rabbit, and when I asked why, you would say 'he's well dressed, he looks pretty'. When I asked you if you wanted a cat, you said that you wanted a white rabbit, like the one in the book."

"Liar! How could you…"

"Know? Sydney, I know it is hard to believe, but trust me… ask me anything."

Sydney sniffled, well aware there was nothing she could ask that would prove the woman to be lying. Everything she said was true. It was little things that even her father didn't know. In addition, yes, she recognised her voice. How could you forget the voice of the mother that would lull you to sleep every night for six years?

Sydney had hundreds of questions now that she knew for sure the woman sitting in front of her was indeed her long lost mother… but she needed time, to think, to process. Keeping her gaze on the carpeted floor, she quietly spoke up:

"Leave."

Irina looked at her, hesitant.

"Please." Sydney's voice broke, her eyes watered.

Irina looked at her and sensed she needed to be alone. She smiled, saying, "Of course, dear." She left the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

TBC