A/N in this chapter you will notice a bunch of question marks where there
I supposed to be dialogue. This is because the dialogue was in Russian and
it wouldn't transpose correctly but you will see a few paragraphs later
what was said.
Redemption
Chapter Thirty
He felt her body go slack and his gun clattered to the ground. He checked her pulse. It was slow and steady but strong. There were too many guards and they were forced to use the alternative escape route. The original plan would have been for two vans to be waiting in the forests for them. One for Irina, and the other for the rest of them. Things wouldn't always go as planned. Will contacted Marshall giving him their location and five minutes later Marshall arrived and they began the drive to the safehouse.
Jack clambered into the van collapsing on the bench still holding Kat. Her arms were still locked around his neck and her face buried in his neck. She was so cold and even unconscious she continued to shudder every few seconds as a result of the shock treatment and all he could do was hold her closer. Irina sat across from him, her face still concealed by the knitted mask. She watched Jack, but her eyes were blank. Concern wasn't even there but he knew it was hidden.
"She'll live," he said softly and pulled off his mask.
Irina nodded. "I have a contact in the area, he'll extract me before yours comes."
"Good. Are you alright?"
She nodded again and spoke as Jack opened his mouth. "You don't need to tell me what I already know Jack."
"How do you know what I was going to say?"
"I know."
Sydney sat next to her father watching the exchange between the two. She'd heard the gunshots and turned to see Kathryn pointing the gun. Irina was down and Sydney had thought for a moment that she was dead. She breathed a sigh of relief when Irina stood. Melnikov had been down when they left the room. He was unconscious and stabbed, she'd thought he was down for good. She'd made a mistake and that mistake had nearly cost Irina her life. It hadn't though. Kathryn had saved her life; she shot Viktor before he could slit Irina's throat.
Sydney pulled off her mask and laid her head on Vaughn's shoulder gazing at her sister. It had all been worth it. She was alive and that was all that mattered.
Marshall sat across from them next to Will and was babbling incessantly in addition to trying to stay as far away from Irina as possible. It was no secret that she scared the shit out of him.
"Jack?" Weiss held out a wad of bandages.
Jack detached Kats arms from around his neck. "Hold her up," he requested pulling her away from him. Weiss did as he instructed and Jack ripped a hole in Kat's pants where the gunshot wound was and taped bandages on her leg. "That'll hold her for now. I'll take care of it when we get to the safehouse." He unhooked the bulletproof vest and pulled it over her head before allowing her to fall back against his chest her head on his shoulder.
Weiss draped a blanket over Kat's shoulders before finally sitting down beside Irina.
"Well done Agent Weiss."
He hadn't expected this and he turned to look at Irina expecting to find some ulterior motive masked in her eyes. He didn't find one and turned back looking at Kathryn's sleeping figure wondering how she had survived so long. How someone so young and so innocent could fight so hard. The answer wasn't far from him. Although she hadn't grown up with Jack, Irina and Sydney, she had their blood. She had been born into a family of strong personalities. She'd been born into a family of great spies. They were all survivors in one way or another.
Jack looked over at Sydney. Her eyes were closed her head on Vaughns shoulder and his eyes met Vaughn's momentarily. A silent thank you unspoken between the men.
Her fingers were cold and they trembled. Jack sat in silence as Kathryn opened her eyes, lifting her head and ran her fingers over his face, pinching his cheeks lightly. Her touch was feather light at first brushing over cheekbones and he nearly didn't feel her at all and then it deepened as she pulled on his nose.
"I needed to make sure you were real," she said sheepishly when she realized he was watching her. She brought her hands down to his shoulders in order to hold herself up.
"I'm real," his voice was quiet and weak not like it usually was and he remembered the last time this had happened. The last time a daughter unable to believe the reality of the situation and tugged on his face, his nose, his ears just to see if he was real. The day he told Sydney the truth about the enemy. The day he told her the truth about SD-6.
She slipped her arms back around his neck and her head resumed his position on his shoulder. She felt safe in his arms. It didn't matter that he had saved her life or that he was her father. It was just him. She hadn't felt this way since her mother.
Her Mother,
She turned her head slightly scanning the faces in the van and then locked eyes with the stranger. She held her gaze for several moments before speaking.
"Take your mask off, I already know who you are."
Her voice was cold, unfeeling and Irina swallowed hard before removing her mask, the final barrier separating her from her daughter. It had been twelve years since she'd been close enough to touch. Twelve years since she'd really seen her daughter. Neither one said a word. The van was silent; even Marshall had stopped chattering and Sydney opened her eyes watching Irina closely. Irina was not about to make the first move. Kat remained silent, challenging her to make the first move but both were stubborn and neither said a word. Even though she didn't say a word, her daughter's eyes told volumes. They were cold, empty and full of undeniable hatred.
Kat couldn't imagine why Irina was there. Was it just to try and stick it to her one last time? Of course knowing Irina, she was probably involved somehow, working with Khasinau or Viktor or another power just wanting information that Kat couldn't give them. She didn't know what she wanted or even expected from Irina. An admission of guilt, an apology, or even an explanation; but she knew she wasn't going to get one. She turned away moving her head to Jack's other shoulder. As much as she'd wanted to see her face, she couldn't stand to look at her.
This simple action was like a knife slicing through Irina's heart.
"Katy-"
"?? ???????? ?? ????," her words were ice, and the hatred permeated every syllable.
"? - ???? ????." She was the opposite of her daughter. Fearless, in control.
"Vous n'êtes pas ma mère. Ma mère est morte quand j'avais cinq ans. Je ne sais pas qui vous êtes."
Jack glared at Irina silently telling her to be quiet and Irina almost smiled. It was always French. It was contented to know that some things never changed. Even after all these years. When Katy lapsed into French, you knew she was very angry. As like any five year old, Katy had her little temper tantrums and it was always in a slew of French. Although Irina had adequate knowledge of the language it wouldn't have been uncommon to see her looking up words in a dictionary to see what her daughter really meant. At the age of five, Katy could speak it as if she were a native of the language.
Irina sat back in her seat folding her hands in her lap. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Jack was right. It would be best to just let it be; for now. Katy was far too angry to think or behave rationally. She wasn't like Sydney. She'd never been able to develop the trust in others that Sydney had been able to; and Irina blamed herself for that flaw.
Will leaned towards Marshall. "What did she say?" he asked softly.
"Well my Russian is a little rusty," he said flustered. "But I believe she said something like 'Don't talk to me,' and then Irina said, 'I'm your mother.'" He smiled quite pleased with himself. Marshall rarely had an opportunity to practice his language skills. "Oh then she said something like 'you're not my mother, my mother's dead, she died when I was five. I don't know who you are,' but that was in French."
"Thanks,"
Kat had turned her face inward at her mother's words and Jack could feel her silent wet tears against his neck. She pretended not to care that her mother was there but inward, he knew she was twisted inside, confused and filled with hate and sadness. This had been the exact reason she wasn't to know that Irina had been involved in her rescue mission. Things did not always go as planned and at this moment he wasn't sure what to say to her. So he didn't. Words would not be able to fix the situation and he could do nothing but hold her tighter against him and stroke her hair.
After several minutes of silence Kat turned her head to face Sydney. She reached out her hand to her and Sydney took it clasping it in her own, giving her a smile and swallowing the lump building in her throat.
"You're hurt," her voice was full of concern seeing the blood across her sister's shirt.
"Naah," Sydney shook her head. "Just a scratch, I'll be fine." She squeezed her hand; "you're going to be fine too."
She shook her head, "no."
"Yes you will-" Jack pulled her away from him to look her in the eyes.
"I'm sorry for what I said."
He looked at her confused.
"When we were going to Spain," she took a deep breath determined to get out the words she'd been wanting to say for a long time now. "The horrible things that I said about you being a bad father, I had no right to say those things. They weren't true and I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
"It's alright," he tucked her head under his chin and stroked her head. "It's okay." He looked over at Irina but she stared right past him refusing to meet his eyes.
"He never loved me."
"What are you talking about Kathryn?" Jack asked softly.
"It was all a lie." She pulled away from Jack and looked to Irina. "He never loved you. It was just part of the plan."
It was clear from the look on Irina's face that she had no idea what Kat was talking about. "Katy who are you talking about?" Sydney asked.
"Papa, it was all just a lie, a cover up, a scheme."
Irina swallowed hard covering her mouth with her hands.
"Who's Papa?" Jack asked her.
Irina was silent, her head in hands, she rubbed her temples a look of disbelief appearing across her face. Her eyes met Jacks for a second before looking away drumming the tips of her fingers on her upper lip.
"Who is Papa?" Jack asked her again, his voice louder and angry.
Irina didn't answer. She leaned back against the van wall crossing her arms over her chest. Her face was marred with lines of tension. She was agitated, angry, on guard. "Was he who Melnikov was working for?" she asked.
Silence.
"Answer me Katarina!" Irina near shouted.
"Yes!" Kat screamed, her voice cut off by a sob. "Yes alright! Yes! He was there!"
"Who is he?" Jack shouted at Irina. "Damn it Irina, who is he!"
"Petrov Khasinau." Her voice was eerily quiet and as she ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her temples before looking at Kathryn again and swallowing hard. The other occupants of the van were getting their first look at a very unnerved and very unsettled Irina Derevko.
"I thought he was dead?"
Kat looked over at Will and shrugged. "So was I, wasn't I." She looked to Jack, her eyes tired, her body still shaking. "I just want to go home," she whispered.
"We'll get you home," he said softly pressing her head against his shoulder. "It's all over now."
"No, you don't understand," she whispered against his ear. "It'll never be over."
It'll never be over.
It was those words that would haunt Jack as Kat fell asleep in his arms and they rode the rest of the way to the safe house in silence. Each member of the rescue team lost in their own thoughts; each left with the realization that this was only the beginning.
Redemption
Chapter Thirty
He felt her body go slack and his gun clattered to the ground. He checked her pulse. It was slow and steady but strong. There were too many guards and they were forced to use the alternative escape route. The original plan would have been for two vans to be waiting in the forests for them. One for Irina, and the other for the rest of them. Things wouldn't always go as planned. Will contacted Marshall giving him their location and five minutes later Marshall arrived and they began the drive to the safehouse.
Jack clambered into the van collapsing on the bench still holding Kat. Her arms were still locked around his neck and her face buried in his neck. She was so cold and even unconscious she continued to shudder every few seconds as a result of the shock treatment and all he could do was hold her closer. Irina sat across from him, her face still concealed by the knitted mask. She watched Jack, but her eyes were blank. Concern wasn't even there but he knew it was hidden.
"She'll live," he said softly and pulled off his mask.
Irina nodded. "I have a contact in the area, he'll extract me before yours comes."
"Good. Are you alright?"
She nodded again and spoke as Jack opened his mouth. "You don't need to tell me what I already know Jack."
"How do you know what I was going to say?"
"I know."
Sydney sat next to her father watching the exchange between the two. She'd heard the gunshots and turned to see Kathryn pointing the gun. Irina was down and Sydney had thought for a moment that she was dead. She breathed a sigh of relief when Irina stood. Melnikov had been down when they left the room. He was unconscious and stabbed, she'd thought he was down for good. She'd made a mistake and that mistake had nearly cost Irina her life. It hadn't though. Kathryn had saved her life; she shot Viktor before he could slit Irina's throat.
Sydney pulled off her mask and laid her head on Vaughn's shoulder gazing at her sister. It had all been worth it. She was alive and that was all that mattered.
Marshall sat across from them next to Will and was babbling incessantly in addition to trying to stay as far away from Irina as possible. It was no secret that she scared the shit out of him.
"Jack?" Weiss held out a wad of bandages.
Jack detached Kats arms from around his neck. "Hold her up," he requested pulling her away from him. Weiss did as he instructed and Jack ripped a hole in Kat's pants where the gunshot wound was and taped bandages on her leg. "That'll hold her for now. I'll take care of it when we get to the safehouse." He unhooked the bulletproof vest and pulled it over her head before allowing her to fall back against his chest her head on his shoulder.
Weiss draped a blanket over Kat's shoulders before finally sitting down beside Irina.
"Well done Agent Weiss."
He hadn't expected this and he turned to look at Irina expecting to find some ulterior motive masked in her eyes. He didn't find one and turned back looking at Kathryn's sleeping figure wondering how she had survived so long. How someone so young and so innocent could fight so hard. The answer wasn't far from him. Although she hadn't grown up with Jack, Irina and Sydney, she had their blood. She had been born into a family of strong personalities. She'd been born into a family of great spies. They were all survivors in one way or another.
Jack looked over at Sydney. Her eyes were closed her head on Vaughns shoulder and his eyes met Vaughn's momentarily. A silent thank you unspoken between the men.
Her fingers were cold and they trembled. Jack sat in silence as Kathryn opened her eyes, lifting her head and ran her fingers over his face, pinching his cheeks lightly. Her touch was feather light at first brushing over cheekbones and he nearly didn't feel her at all and then it deepened as she pulled on his nose.
"I needed to make sure you were real," she said sheepishly when she realized he was watching her. She brought her hands down to his shoulders in order to hold herself up.
"I'm real," his voice was quiet and weak not like it usually was and he remembered the last time this had happened. The last time a daughter unable to believe the reality of the situation and tugged on his face, his nose, his ears just to see if he was real. The day he told Sydney the truth about the enemy. The day he told her the truth about SD-6.
She slipped her arms back around his neck and her head resumed his position on his shoulder. She felt safe in his arms. It didn't matter that he had saved her life or that he was her father. It was just him. She hadn't felt this way since her mother.
Her Mother,
She turned her head slightly scanning the faces in the van and then locked eyes with the stranger. She held her gaze for several moments before speaking.
"Take your mask off, I already know who you are."
Her voice was cold, unfeeling and Irina swallowed hard before removing her mask, the final barrier separating her from her daughter. It had been twelve years since she'd been close enough to touch. Twelve years since she'd really seen her daughter. Neither one said a word. The van was silent; even Marshall had stopped chattering and Sydney opened her eyes watching Irina closely. Irina was not about to make the first move. Kat remained silent, challenging her to make the first move but both were stubborn and neither said a word. Even though she didn't say a word, her daughter's eyes told volumes. They were cold, empty and full of undeniable hatred.
Kat couldn't imagine why Irina was there. Was it just to try and stick it to her one last time? Of course knowing Irina, she was probably involved somehow, working with Khasinau or Viktor or another power just wanting information that Kat couldn't give them. She didn't know what she wanted or even expected from Irina. An admission of guilt, an apology, or even an explanation; but she knew she wasn't going to get one. She turned away moving her head to Jack's other shoulder. As much as she'd wanted to see her face, she couldn't stand to look at her.
This simple action was like a knife slicing through Irina's heart.
"Katy-"
"?? ???????? ?? ????," her words were ice, and the hatred permeated every syllable.
"? - ???? ????." She was the opposite of her daughter. Fearless, in control.
"Vous n'êtes pas ma mère. Ma mère est morte quand j'avais cinq ans. Je ne sais pas qui vous êtes."
Jack glared at Irina silently telling her to be quiet and Irina almost smiled. It was always French. It was contented to know that some things never changed. Even after all these years. When Katy lapsed into French, you knew she was very angry. As like any five year old, Katy had her little temper tantrums and it was always in a slew of French. Although Irina had adequate knowledge of the language it wouldn't have been uncommon to see her looking up words in a dictionary to see what her daughter really meant. At the age of five, Katy could speak it as if she were a native of the language.
Irina sat back in her seat folding her hands in her lap. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Jack was right. It would be best to just let it be; for now. Katy was far too angry to think or behave rationally. She wasn't like Sydney. She'd never been able to develop the trust in others that Sydney had been able to; and Irina blamed herself for that flaw.
Will leaned towards Marshall. "What did she say?" he asked softly.
"Well my Russian is a little rusty," he said flustered. "But I believe she said something like 'Don't talk to me,' and then Irina said, 'I'm your mother.'" He smiled quite pleased with himself. Marshall rarely had an opportunity to practice his language skills. "Oh then she said something like 'you're not my mother, my mother's dead, she died when I was five. I don't know who you are,' but that was in French."
"Thanks,"
Kat had turned her face inward at her mother's words and Jack could feel her silent wet tears against his neck. She pretended not to care that her mother was there but inward, he knew she was twisted inside, confused and filled with hate and sadness. This had been the exact reason she wasn't to know that Irina had been involved in her rescue mission. Things did not always go as planned and at this moment he wasn't sure what to say to her. So he didn't. Words would not be able to fix the situation and he could do nothing but hold her tighter against him and stroke her hair.
After several minutes of silence Kat turned her head to face Sydney. She reached out her hand to her and Sydney took it clasping it in her own, giving her a smile and swallowing the lump building in her throat.
"You're hurt," her voice was full of concern seeing the blood across her sister's shirt.
"Naah," Sydney shook her head. "Just a scratch, I'll be fine." She squeezed her hand; "you're going to be fine too."
She shook her head, "no."
"Yes you will-" Jack pulled her away from him to look her in the eyes.
"I'm sorry for what I said."
He looked at her confused.
"When we were going to Spain," she took a deep breath determined to get out the words she'd been wanting to say for a long time now. "The horrible things that I said about you being a bad father, I had no right to say those things. They weren't true and I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
"It's alright," he tucked her head under his chin and stroked her head. "It's okay." He looked over at Irina but she stared right past him refusing to meet his eyes.
"He never loved me."
"What are you talking about Kathryn?" Jack asked softly.
"It was all a lie." She pulled away from Jack and looked to Irina. "He never loved you. It was just part of the plan."
It was clear from the look on Irina's face that she had no idea what Kat was talking about. "Katy who are you talking about?" Sydney asked.
"Papa, it was all just a lie, a cover up, a scheme."
Irina swallowed hard covering her mouth with her hands.
"Who's Papa?" Jack asked her.
Irina was silent, her head in hands, she rubbed her temples a look of disbelief appearing across her face. Her eyes met Jacks for a second before looking away drumming the tips of her fingers on her upper lip.
"Who is Papa?" Jack asked her again, his voice louder and angry.
Irina didn't answer. She leaned back against the van wall crossing her arms over her chest. Her face was marred with lines of tension. She was agitated, angry, on guard. "Was he who Melnikov was working for?" she asked.
Silence.
"Answer me Katarina!" Irina near shouted.
"Yes!" Kat screamed, her voice cut off by a sob. "Yes alright! Yes! He was there!"
"Who is he?" Jack shouted at Irina. "Damn it Irina, who is he!"
"Petrov Khasinau." Her voice was eerily quiet and as she ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her temples before looking at Kathryn again and swallowing hard. The other occupants of the van were getting their first look at a very unnerved and very unsettled Irina Derevko.
"I thought he was dead?"
Kat looked over at Will and shrugged. "So was I, wasn't I." She looked to Jack, her eyes tired, her body still shaking. "I just want to go home," she whispered.
"We'll get you home," he said softly pressing her head against his shoulder. "It's all over now."
"No, you don't understand," she whispered against his ear. "It'll never be over."
It'll never be over.
It was those words that would haunt Jack as Kat fell asleep in his arms and they rode the rest of the way to the safe house in silence. Each member of the rescue team lost in their own thoughts; each left with the realization that this was only the beginning.