A/N Hey everyone, I know its been like a month since the last chapter was posted, I'm sorry, I've just been unavoidably detained and I found this chapter rather difficult to write and it took a long time. I just posted chapter summaries for Chapters 30 to 48 to refresh your memories as to what recently happened in the fic.

Please give feedback, I'd like to know if people are still reading after the long break.

Hope you enjoy
Erin

Redemption
Chapter Forty Nine

Robert Lindsey never stood a chance.

The moment Lindsey had become the instrumental force in recruiting his daughter into the CIA, Jack Bristow had resigned to make his life a living hell.

Kat hadn't been gone for more than a few minutes when Jack entered Lindsey's office unannounced. He grabbed the phone Lindsey was holding and slammed it down in the cradle.

"Just what did you think you were doing recruiting MY daughter into the CIA?" Jack held onto the edge of Lindsey's desk and leaned forwards. He braced his weight on his forearms, and resisted the urge to grab Lindsey by the tie and slam him up against the wall. "Painting a target on her back is not going to help recover The Contessa."

"Agent Bristow, need I remind you that this is my office and the next time you decide to come barging in, knock first." Lindsey glared at him folding his hands in his lap. "That said, for the record, recruiting Kat was not my doing. Yes I did make the arrangements and brokered the deal with her, but, the order came from elsewhere."

Both men looked to the door as it opened and Ben Devlin stepped in.

"You." Jack realized straightening. "You did this. You knew she would take the deal and choose recruitment. She told you she would run if you took her into custody and you used that knowledge to get her into the CIA."

"This was for her own good Jack." Ben crossed his arms over his chest as he defended his actions. "I'm not going to continue to risk the lives of my agents to protect her, while she herself is a valuable asset to this agency; the operation in Spain proved that. All she needs is a little training."

"She's a child. She's under eighteen and you did not have my perm-"

"I didn't need your permission Jack. She was emancipated."

"No," Jack corrected. "Kathryn Sullivan was emancipated, Katarina Bristow was not."

"When you brought her back from Moscow, her guardianship was transferred to this agency," Devlin explained. "I have full legal power of attorney. All decisions regarding her future are made by this agency and signed off by me, until she reaches 18 years of age."

Jack stood stunned momentarily, reeling from Devlin's admission. His friend had gone behind his back and manipulated his daughter into joining the CIA. That was twice now he'd been betrayed by a friend that he was supposed to trust. First Arvin Sloane had recruited Sydney into SD-6 without his knowledge, and now Ben had recruited Kat into the CIA.

"Don't underestimate her intelligence Jack," Devlin stopped in the doorway as he was leaving. "Kat knew exactly what she was doing when she made her decision. She could have gone to you before signing the paperwork. She knew you would attempt an alternative arrangement, but she didn't. She wanted this."

"She doesn't know what she wants."

"And what makes you think that you do?"

Devlin's question went unanswered and Jack resisted his urge to slam Lindsey's head into his desk and wipe that twisted half smile off his face. He went to his own office without another word to either man and sat at his desk analyzing the situation.

If Kat had been allowed to go to Jack before signing the deal with the CIA why hadn't she. Devlin was right. If she'd had the opportunity to go to him before signing the deal and not taken it then she wanted in. He was certain she would have known that he would have attempted alternative arrangements unless---

He shook his head marveling at the sheer simplicity of it. Devlin and Lindsey had played right into her hands by arranging the deal.

Revenge.

Kat had used their own deal against them. She wanted into the CIA. Not because she was afraid, or because she'd been forced into it or even because she wanted to find the Contessa. She didn't give a damn about the diamond or The Rambaldi prophecy.

She wanted revenge against her mother.

Joining the CIA, creating an imbalance in the familial relationship was exactly the one thing to spark Irina's fury more so than Kat already had. She would no longer be considered the innocent one. Three tough CIA Bristows against one lethal Derevko. Kat knew exactly how to push Irina's buttons and she was planning on pushing her to the max. She was intent on bringing her mother down, no matter what the costs.

Jack had a great strategical mind. He considered Irina to be his equal. It really was no surprise that their daughter had gone this route.

He had no one to blame but himself. He hadn't given thought to his status of legal guardianship over his daughter. She was under eighteen and it was his name on her birth certificate. He'd been too naïve, too preoccupied with Kat's nightmares and the search for scroll 47. He hadn't anticipated Devlin's deception or her own.

Jack flipped through his rolodex and pulled the card of one of his contacts within the farm. There was no chance that he would be a blind observer to her training. She was going to have weaknesses and each and every single one had to be accounted for. It was especially prudent to Kat who was already facing many physical disadvantages and one mistake or weakness could be the choice between life and death.

Jack dropped his keys on the kitchen counter with the mail and take-out and set his briefcase on the floor. He eyed the food disapprovingly. It was the fourth night in a row he'd stopped and picked up Chinese for dinner.

Kat had been gone for two weeks now. At least when she had been there, he'd been forced to cook as she required special dietary considerations. Her absence had left the apartment quiet, with a build up of take-out containers and an empty fridge. He'd gotten used to her presence, even found himself enjoying the slight disarray of the apartment. Cereal bowls left on the kitchen table, the television constantly on some channel she called music, and the remote hidden in the couch cushions, with at least one magazine open on the glass coffee table.

Jack poured himself a scotch and sat down on the kitchen stool to eat his dinner. He downed the first glass and then immediately poured another. The food tasted bland and he pushed it away no longer hungry. He reached for the stack of mail, rifled through it quickly and stopped on a letter addressed to Jack D. Bristow. He recognized the handwriting and turned it over but there was no return address. He used his knife to slit open the envelope and pulled out several handwritten sheets of paper.

It was a letter from his daughter.

The first line brought a slight smile to his lips. She'd begun the letter with, 'Dear Jack' but then crossed out Jack and written Dad, which was also crossed out followed by a crossed out Father, Pops, Papa, J and JB as she struggled to address the letter in a manner they would both be comfortable with. Finally she'd begun:

Dear Daddy,

I know you're surprised to be getting this. Letters home are strictly on the forbidden list but lets just say I made someone an offer they couldn't refuse and they snuck it out for me.

I know you and Sydney angry but, this was my choice. By now I know you've realized that my motives for accepting Lindsey's deal were not exactly as forced as I led you to believe. I am sorry I lied to you. I was forced in a sense that I did have to make a choice, but I know you're wondering why I made that choice so quickly. I can't exactly explain why I did what I did, why I didn't search out another alternative, but please just accept the fact that this was my decision to make.

That said there are things that you need to know, things that I could never tell you in person.

I won't lie to you by telling you that joining the CIA had nothing to do with my mother; even Marshall could see through that in an instant. On a sidenote, please be nicer to Marshall and not roll your eyes every time he tries to tell you about Baby Kate, he's just an excited new father, as I'm sure you were when Sydney was born. (Besides, my Goddaughter is adorable!)

Anyway.

What I'm saying is yes, Irina is part of the reason I am joining, but not the sole reason. I do want her brought to justice. I want her to pay for all the harm she caused you and Sydney, Weiss, and Vaughn. I want her to pay for the harm she caused everyone, including myself. But I also joined for me. I want to repay the harm I've caused. People died because of me. Good people like Agent Clark, that girl Papa pretended was me, the other agents from the safehouse, and I can't, no, I won't allow it to happen again. I won't sacrifice the lives of others solely for my own.

You once asked me what I was afraid of. I couldn't answer you, not truthfully. I don't even remember what I said, but I can tell you now that one of the things I fear is taking a parent away from their child. That is the main reason why I cannot continue under CIA protection. I know how it feels to lose a parent. To be told that your mom or dad won't ever be coming back is devastating to anyone, particularly to a little boy or girl. I cannot be responsible for any more children loosing their parents.

After the shooting, when I was five, I woke up in the hospital and I was alone. I had no one in this world. I remember it took at least a day before the doctors or nurses even realized that I was awake. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, there were machines breathing for me, tubes every where, I was so scared and all I wanted was my mother. I tried to tell them that they were wrong, that my mother would be coming for me. The doctors and the police told me that she was dead. A robbery gone wrong. I began to believe what they said. She hadn't come for me so she must have been gone. I thought my memories of the shooting were false and I lied. I told the police that I saw the men shoot my mother. My mother had been teaching me how to lie and deceive since I was born. I was so good at it that I fooled myself. I made myself believe so strongly that she really was gone, and in doing so I lost who I was. I forgot Katarina and I fully became Kathryn. I chose to bury my identity, my memories, my life, and everything I knew in a place deep in my mind that I didn't want to find. Remembering Katarina meant remembering her and how she left me.

I know the CIA isn't what you wanted for me. You said that I could be anything that I wanted to be and I know that. Well almost anything anyway, I could never be a chef, I'd probably poison the customers or something. I know you were secretly hoping I might choose medicine, (I have seen the increase in medical books in the apartment-so don't pretend you weren't thinking of it) but I'm sorry to disappoint you, I don't think I'd make a good doctor. You know I don't like needles—I'd probably end up killing some poor guy, and Dr. Barnett says I have too much aggression for a career working with people, although she did say I'd make an excellent psychiatrist. Sort of ironic isn't it?

Sydney's mentioned law on more than one occasion. This world is so complicated and corrupt. I've seen the legal system at work. I've seen criminals get off scott free. I've seen people placed in harms way because the system failed and children, innocent children, live in hell because adults don't or won't see what's really going on. I'd like to change that. Idealistically I want to change the world but realistically I know that's not going to happen. I'm just one person and as much as I may want to believe otherwise, one person can't change the world. I can't be a part of it. I can't be a part of a public system that lets some get away and punishes the innocents every once in a while even if they get the bad guys more often.

I don't really know what I want to be. I do know that if I get through this, if I'm alive still in five years, I don't want to be an agent forever. Not that being an agent for life is a bad thing, I just don't think that it's something I want. Sydney's going to be an English Professor and she'll be a great teacher and I'll—I'll be something.

I have all these options now that I didn't think I'd ever have. Who'd have ever thought that a screwed up foster kid from the Big Apple would even have a chance in this world to be anything other than a screw up.

You gave me that chance. I deceived you, I lied to you, and I did everything I could to hate you. You stood for everything that Irina took away from me. Even when we found out that you were my father, I was horrible to you, but you were still so good to me. You gave me a place to live, money, food, clothes, protection, and so much more. You pushed and pushed and pushed and you wouldn't take no for an answer. My memories of Moscow, when you came for me, they're a little hazy at best, but the thing that I remember the most is being safe. Despite the guns, the constant spray of bullets, I'd never felt more safe in my entire life than I did at that moment when you were carrying me to safety. You were the strongest man in the world, and the bravest—you gave me your vest and risked certain death to protect me, someone you hardly knew. Despite everything that I put you through, even when we didn't know I was your daughter, you chose to protect me when rightfully you should have hated me—I still really don't understand why.

You gave me a chance; you gave me everything I never had. Everything I'd only ever dreamed about, but thought was just too far out of my reach. When all of this started, when people started to try to kill me or kidnap me or even just find me—I gave up. I gave up on life and any semblance of a future. I've never really been a dreamer. I've never had anything to dream for. I guess you could say I'm more of a realist. I know neither of us was exactly thrilled at the prospect of living together but I think it was a good thing. I had stopped making plans for my future. I began to live each day as if I wouldn't have tomorrow until you showed me that it was okay to be afraid, that it was okay to make plans and that I did have a future. Pretending as if I didn't have a future-it wasn't living.

This is getting a little off track now isn't it. I know you're probably debating on whether or not to actually finish reading this letter but please do; there are things that I need to say that could never be said anywhere but in a letter.

You've always accepted me, maybe not willingly at first but you have. That means a lot to me. Especially because of the things that I did and the things that I said-- you had every right not to accept me, but you did anyway. I've never been a person who was easily accepted by others, it really does mean a lot to me.

You've accepted who I am now, but there are things that you don't know about who I was in the past. Things that I could never tell you or anyone else. Things that I've done that I'm ashamed of. Things that the very thought of them makes me sick, makes me want to scream and scream and scream and never stop. It's hard for me to even tell you that much, but I feel like I'm lying to you if I don't. And I don't want to lie to you anymore dad. Please don't ask me about it, there are things that I just can't tell you. If you asked, I'd have to lie and I don't want to do that.

I guess I want to thank you for everything. I'm looking at this as a new start for me. A whole new life with my sister and my dad.

The last thing is I don't want you to blame yourself for my recruitment. Remember, this was my choice. There was nothing you could do to stop it. I chose this. I told you that I knew I couldn't save the world and that's true, but maybe this my way to make a difference and to protect myself, maybe its just what I was born to do. My entire life people have been making decisions for me, they've never given me a choice. They've all been teaching me how to be a spy. Alexander, Papa, Arvin, and even mom with the lies, the codes and the identities. I know I'm supposed to be good at it and I am. I've only been in training few days but I know I made the right decision. They cultured me, but in the end, this time, the final decision is mine.

You're a spy, Irina is, Sydney is—It's in my blood. I was born into a family of spies.

I don't know what your beliefs are, if you believe in God or not. I don't. I think that if there was a God, he couldn't allow so many good and innocent people to die. I'm not sure if you believe in fate or destiny, somehow I think your rational mind would state otherwise, but maybe despite what I believe, that's what this is. Maybe it's fate or destiny or maybe it was just inevitable that things would end up this way.

You were very clear on the fact that you did not want me to go to Spain. You didn't want me to have any part of that life, the life that you and Sydney lead. You were right-you had reason to fear it because I enjoyed it. The thrill, the adrenaline rush, the excitement—the fact that I could do what others couldn't, I loved every second of it.

We never talked about what happened in St. Petersburg. In a way I'm relieved but I also feel terrible. I almost killed my mother; you tried to stop me and I wouldn't listen. I'm glad she was able to stop me. Don't fool yourself into thinking it was because I didn't want her dead, I do. If I had killed her, I would have regretted taking another persons life yes, but more so because it wouldn't have been done rationally. I was thinking with my heart and not my head. I thought I could handle her. I thought I could ignore her, deal with her. I thought I could block everything out, compartmentalize everything that wasn't supposed to be there, her words, the memories; but I was wrong. She got to me. The second she had control, I lost mine. I said things that I shouldn't have said. My hatred for her overcame any rational thought I had left. I've never lost control like that and it scares me.

Irina made it perfectly clear during our confrontation that I was not to assist the CIA any further in their quest for Rambaldi's Contessa. I think she knew about the prophecy. I can honestly tell you that she seemed scared at the prospect of my continual involvement and I want to know why. I want to know what she's hiding. Why she is so insistent that I stay away from this Rambaldi craziness. I don't think I'll ever understand her, I know I can never forgive her for what she did. She kept me away from Sydney, away from you, away from my family. A family was the only thing I ever wanted in this world. It was the one thing I always dreamed of and when it happened, I felt just like Annie Warbucks in that old movie Little Orphan Annie. I know you haven't forgiven what Irina did to you, how she betrayed you and neither has Sydney, but you've been able to get past it; I can't, no matter how much you want me to, I can't move past how she betrayed me.

I do want to find the Contessa and prove to everyone that this Rambaldi stuff is a load of crap. I'm not The Countess, I'm just a girl, and I'm no one special. I don't have secret powers or anything like that. There's no way that some dead guy who lived over 500 years ago could have known anything about me.

I want Irina to pay and if I play a part in taking her down then so be it.

I'm a very different person now than I was six months ago. I've learned a lot about myself, changed in ways I never imagined and felt things I never thought possible. I see things differently now; things about myself, things that I do, that I know aren't right.

I know you've seen that I'm not like other people. I don't feel things like other people; I don't know how to do it, I just get by. I know when I'm supposed to laugh and when I'm supposed to cry, but I don't know how to get there; I just do it like I'm playing a part in a play and nothing is real. It's as if there's this locked door inside of me that I don't know how to open; I have the key but I can't seem to get it in the lock. I didn't even know that I was like this, that I was different, until Dr. Barnett showed me.

I've seen first hand just how cold Irina can be and I don't want to be like her. Dad, I'm scared to be like her. She's angry and heartless and I don't want to be angry anymore. I want to open that door. I just don't know how to stop being angry. I want to stop this anger, except when it comes to Irina. If I stop being angry with her, if I stop hating her, then I'm afraid I might begin to forget what she did and the pain she caused. You and Irina are two very different people. I don't want to be like her, and I'm sorry please don't take offense but I don't want to be like you either. You distance yourself from everyone, enclose your emotions and your heart in a glass box with no way in and no way out unless you open the door. You're afraid to be hurt and I understand and can sympathize with that. I admire you in so many ways and it's not bad, it's just who you are. I'll never wear my heart on my sleeve like Will or Marshall, but I don't want to be cold and I don't want to be distant.

You, Sydney and Weiss have helped me. You helped me to get the key in the lock and now I understand that if I want to live, truly live in all sense of the word than I need to figure out how turn the key and unlock the door. I'm going to live Dad, someday I'm going to be free of my past.

I think that everyone has things that they hide. They have one face that they show the world and another they see in a mirror's reflection.

I forgot to ask you to feed my fish.

Jack groaned looking up from the letter and spotted the small tank in the living room. Her fish was belly up.

A few weeks before she'd left, the two had stopped at the mall to drop some suits off at the dry cleaners and Katy had dragged him into the pet store.

She wanted a puppy, he said no. They compromised on a goldfish.

If you forgot about him, that's okay but if it's still alive could you feed it for me pretty please?

There's something that I wanted to give you but I didn't get a chance before I left. In the closet in your study is that black portfolio case that Will gave me. It's in there. You'll know it when you see it.



There's just one last thing. I can pretty much guarantee that if you're reading this at home you've got a glass of scotch in your hand and I wanted to ask you not to drink so much. It's not that I think you can't handle it-it just, it scares me. I don't like it when you drink so much. I know you're not an alcoholic, or even have a problem, but you use it as an escape, a cover, and sometimes that can be just as bad. It's easy to loose control. People change when they loose control because of alcohol. They say things, do things that they shouldn't. I just don't want anything to happen to you.

Well if you're still reading--this is about it. I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me and just remember that this was my choice. Joining the CIA was my decision and I want to do this, I want to feel like I am making a difference even if I'm not.

Tell Sydney I miss her, and thank her for taking care of Oliver for me. Thank you for giving him to me.

See you in a month or two

Your Katy

Jack eyed the glass of scotch in his right hand. She was right. His drinking had increased in the last few weeks she'd been staying with him, and even more so since she'd been gone. Drinking himself to sleep at night had become a mere habit. He wanted to drink it, the amber liquid had become a good friend to him, but he could see her point. Sighing he stood, letter in hand and poured the contents of the glass down the sink. It was then that he noticed something out of place.

A single glass sat on the counter beside the sink and the rim was laced with red lipstick.

Trying not to make a sound Jack walked back to the counter and got his briefcase. He opened it and got his gun. He listened intently, but there was nothing but silence. Keeping to the right side of the hallway he edged along the wall. He cleared his bedroom and the bathroom and was about to enter Kat's room when he felt cool metal pressed against the base of his neck.

"Hello Jack."