Absolution
Chapter 3

Sark was on his way to wake Katarina at Yelena's request when he heard her screams. He pulled his gun from the back waistband of his pants and signaled to Ilya who was leaving his own room across the great wraparound hallway.

Ilya disappeared into his room shortly and emerged brandishing two .34 caliber handguns. He too had heard the scream coming from across the hallway the moment he'd left his room. He took off in a soundless run around the rectangle hallway towards Kat's room.

As soon as Ilya reached the bedroom door, he and Sark burst in their guns aimed as they scoped the room for an intruder. To their surprise, there wasn't one.

Kat lay on her side curled into the fetal position, her arms above her head, shielding her face. Her body suddenly twisted to the other side as her hoarse voice cried out, "Nyet, nyet. Please don't, please don't hurt me!"

"Leave us," Sark ordered quickly realizing that she was in the throes of a violent nightmare.

Ilya was clearly reluctant but he obeyed Sark's orders.

Sark slid his gun back in the waistband of his pants and slowly approached the bed. Kat's screams grew louder with each passing second and her face stained with tears, some dry, and some not. He called her name twice, but Kat showed no signs of waking. He sat down on the bed and checked her forehead for signs of fever but there were none. She appeared to be having a regular nightmare. He shook her shoulder and called her name.

Caught off guard Sark was surprised when Kat awoke startled and grabbed his wrists, pushed him down on the bed and pinning them above his head, her body half on his. He was surprised at how fearful her eyes were and how much strength she possessed.

"What are you doing Julian?" her voice trembled slightly, her breathing still labored from the nightmare.

Sark raised an eyebrow. "You were having a nightmare."

Kat appeared confused momentarily but her face was soon blank disguising any remnants of the nightmare. She rolled off him onto her knees and did her best discretely to wipe away the tears from her face.

"Dinner is in ten minutes." Sark stood from the bed, barely acknowledging Kat as he left the room. Once outside he leaned against the wall rubbing his sore wrists.

Kat sank back on the bed ignoring her body's screams of protest. Although she felt much better since taking the insulin and sleeping the better part of the afternoon, her body was still nowhere near recuperation.

She spotted a dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door and walked over to it. Sitting on a nearby chair was a plastic bag containing a few pairs of pants, shirts and sweaters as well as undergarments. On top was a note from Yelena, expressing her hope that they would be a better fit. Kat checked the sizes quickly and was certain that they would be a perfect fit. Yelena also indicated that the dress was for dinner.

Kat slid the dress off the hanger and held it in front of her body in the mirror. It was beautiful: simple, sleeveless, lavender silk ending just above her knees. Apparently, in the Derevko household, you got dressed up for dinner.

Kat changed quickly. The dress clung to her figure in all the right places, fitting perfectly. The matching strappy sandals however, were entirely too small and she opted to go barefoot, rather than forcing her feet into them.

She was the last one to arrive at the table. The others sat patiently around a large rectangular table sipping red wine and discussing Katya's son Alexsei and his wife Anna's pregnancy. Slipping into the empty seat between Sark and Ilya, Kat quickly learned that they were expecting twins.

She had some difficulty following the rapid Russian, Anna and Alexsei spoke and Talya having noticed this took great delight in speaking as fast as she could; at least until Yelena was sitting and ordered the conversation to be switched to English. Although Russian was Kat's first language, she had not been fluent in it since she was a young child, despite brushing up on her skills at the agency. Talya seemed to have a great dislike for her and Kat had to wonder of how she's offended her cousin in the short span of time since she'd been there.

"Katarina, how are you feeling?" Anna asked smiling at her, her accent thick as she spoke. "Lena said you weren't well before."

"Much better thank you." Kat returned her smile finding that she liked Anna quite immediately. "Do you know what you're having?" she asked curiously taking a sip of her ice water.

"Girls," Anna said proudly grinning from ear to ear. "Clara and Cecilia. Not exactly Russian, but we like them."

Katya seated herself at the head of the table, opposite Yelena, and the topic of conversation quickly changed to the weather. Kat found it surprising that none spoke of the research they had been doing that afternoon in the search for the CIA mole. The curiosity was killing her but she refrained from asking about it, choosing to sit back and observe the others rather than interact, unless specifically addressed.

As dinner was served, Kat quickly realized she was entirely out of her league. She was thankful for Ilya who sat to her right and discretely indicated which piece of cutlery was for which dinner course. Studying the fine art of dining hadn't been on the list of training courses at the Farm, though perhaps it should have.

Ilya was quiet during dinner. He spoke when specifically asked a question, but other than that, he refrained from interacting. He appeared to be Russian, although at times his accent was weak demonstrating some time spent in America or Britain; she wasn't quite sure. Kat was certain he had been part of her extraction team, but his face still seemed familiar to her almost as if they had met before. She wasn't sure how or when or if she even had, but right now, she wasn't ruling anything out.

Sark was quiet as well. He couldn't have said more than two-dozen words the entire dinner, though none was directed to her. He seemed to almost ignore Kat and pretend that she didn't exist. It confused her; then again, the entire situation confused her.

Kat picked at her food, eating only the bare necessity she would need to keep her blood sugars level. She trusted Julian and Yelena, perhaps even Ilya and Anna to an extent, but the others… particularly Katya, she did not.

Dinner was surprisingly normal, not that Kat was at all sure of what she would have expected, but world domination and Rambaldi as possible topics of dinner conversation did come to mind.

Following dessert, they all moved to the library where the discussion of the day's research did take place and they all presented the mole suspects they had investigated and eliminated. Kat was thankful to find that Alexei and Ilya had quickly eliminated Dixon, Carrie, and Marshall, while Talya had decided neither JJ nor Agent McShadow were the culprits. Katya had not revealed whom she was investigating, only that her results were inconclusive at the time. However, Kat got the distinct impression as she spoke that Katya had been investigating Sydney and Jack. Kat didn't have any results to report so she listened carefully to the others offering opinions or clarifying information when asked.

After the reports had been given, the conversation turned once again to Alexei and Anna's twins. Katya disapproved of the chosen names making her position quite clear, while Yelena scolded her elder sister telling her to keep her opinions to herself. Her son and daughter-in-law did not seem to be bothered by Katya's disapproval.

Kat, finding the conversation of babies and children far too difficult to endure any longer slipped away seemingly unnoticed by the rest. She wandered barefoot along the hallway studying the various paintings that hung on the walls. It wasn't long before she sank down on the grand staircase, leaning her head against the railing.

"Bored already?"

"Ilya?" Kat drew in a sharp in take of breath at his words. "You startled me."

He noticed her shiver and pulled off his white sweater, dropping it over her head. She smiled gratefully at him and slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"My apologies." He rested his chin on the banister peering down at her. He wanted to ask her if she was all right, regarding the nightmare he had been witness to earlier in the evening; but he didn't dare after having seen Sark's quick exit from her room. "Are you sure you're feeling better you didn't eat much at dinner?"

Kat looked up at him surprised. He seemed genuinely concerned about her. "I'm fine really," she said convincingly.

"Alright then," he moved away.

"Wait," she suddenly burst out turning on the step to face him as he came round the elegant banister.

"Yes?" His eyes were dark and dull in the dim light and hid any surprise as to her sudden outburst.

"Who are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly that, who are you? How do you fit in here? Did I know you when I was a little? What?"

"You're trying to make my involvement much more complicated than it really is." He sat down beside her on the stairs.

"What is your involvement?"

"I am simply an employee."

"Nothing is ever simple," she rolled her eyes.

"Believe what you want," Ilya shrugged and stood. Making his way towards the end of the hallway, he sat on the window seat below an open arched window and lit a cigarette.

"That's cryptic," she followed and took a seat beside him, curling her legs underneath her.

"What is it that you really want, or do you even know?" Ilya took a long drag of his cigarette and watched as the smoke circled and moved out the open window.

"Have I met you before?"

"So many questions," he mused flicking the ash from his smoke into a nearby flowerpot. "It's not the answers you seek, but merely the opportunity and knowledge to ask more questions."

Kat had no response for that which Ilya apparently found to be rather amusing. "Can I have one?" she held out her hand.

"One what?" he raised an eyebrow.

"A smoke."

"You smoke?" he questioned, but handed her one anyways.

Kat leaned forward with the cigarette in her mouth as Ilya lit it. She took a quick drag and exhaled quickly, not having smoked in a long time. Her hand shook slightly as she brought the cigarette to her lips several times and soon it steadied. "I smoke when I'm stressed," she informed him before taking a much longer drag. "It calms me down."

"It's a filthy habit," Sark interrupted plucking the smoke from between her lips and crushing it in the flowerpot.

"I think we should talk about your bad habits," Kat reached for another cigarette from the pack, but Sark grabbed it and handed it back to Ilya.

"I need to speak with Katarina."

The emphasis was on Katarina and Ilya took it as his cue to leave.

"Aren't you in a royally bad mood?"

"I generally am when I find children smoking."

"I'm not a child." She looked up noticing the seriousness of his features and saw a small overnight bag beside the stairwell. "What's going on?" she asked. "Are you going away?"

He nodded and sat down on the bench beside her. "I have some business to attend to, I will be gone a short while, only a day or two."

"You're leaving me with them?"

"Katia, they're your family, not the enemy."

"Easy for you to say, you're on their side."

"This isn't about sides. Yelena will take care of you and if you have any problems while I'm gone, you can speak with Ilya." His cell phone interrupted them and he stood to take the call.

While Sark spoke quietly on the phone, Kat turned back to the window pretending not to listen to his conversation, but in actual fact, she was committing every word to memory. Sark caught on quickly and moved away from her lowering his voice even more. Kat caught snippets of the conversation and while she didn't know whom he was speaking to, she was positive that they were talking about her.

She wasn't sure what was more unnerving, the fact that he was talking about her or that she didn't know who it was.

"Katia?" Sark stood across from her holding out the phone.

"Who is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"Irina."

"I'm not speaking to her," Kat shook her head.

"Take the phone," he instructed.

"Absolutely not."

"Stop acting like a child and speak to your mother!" Sark thrust the phone into her hands and she had no choice but to comply.

"What?"

"Katarina, I'm your mother. The least you could do is show me some respect," Irina scolded her.

"Respect is something that is earned. You have done nothing to achieve that."

"Very well then," Irina could not disagree with her daughter. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Kat replied flatly.

"Sark informed me that you nearly fainted earlier today. Please be more careful about your sugars," Irina requested. "If there is anything you require, ask Yelena or Katya."

"Why do you pretend like you care?" Kat interrupted and stood as she switched the cell phone to her other ear.

"I'm not going to argue about this with you right now. You are my daughter, I raised you."

"Five years and birth hardly qualifies you as a mother." Kat could detect the rise in Irina's tone of voice. "That doesn't give you any rights."

"Katarina stop."

"Why, I'm only telling the truth. You claim to love me, but if you really did, wouldn't you be here?"

"Circumstances currently prevent me from being there. If I could be, then I would. Sark has access to all my contacts and…"

"What was that?" Kat interrupted covering her other ear with her hand in order to hear better.

"What?"

"That noise… I thought I heard…" Kat sat back down on the window seat attempting to process what she'd just heard, or at least thought she'd heard.

"Yes?"

Was it her imagination or did Irina's voice almost seem nervous, breathless. "Nothing," she said shrugging. "What is it that you really want?"

"I want to know how you are, Katy."

"First, I told you not to call me that and second I said that I was fine. Is there anything more because if not I'd really like to go back to pretending this conversation never happened."

"Put Sark back on the phone please and Katy…I…"

"What?"

"I-be careful please. We'll find out who is trying to harm you I promise."

"Good bye."

Kat's voice seemed especially cold to Irina and she was sure that if it were possible, her daughter would be encased in ice.

Kat handed the phone back to Sark and returned her attention to the window. Sark spoke with Irina for a few minutes longer before hanging up.

"You could at least be civil to her," Sark said disapprovingly as he pocketed his cell phone.

"I could… but we both know it certainly wouldn't be as much fun now would it. When are you coming back?" she asked changing the subject.

"Tomorrow night, the next morning at the latest I think."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to meet with a contact," Sark picked up his bag and turned to face Kat. "If anything happens Yelena can contact me, but I'm sure you'll be just fine. Why don't you go out and see the gardens, perhaps go for a ride, the grounds are beautiful this time of year."

"Maybe," she shrugged, rather unsure about the idea of exploring the Derevko home. She might get her head cut off for touching something she shouldn't.

"Katia," he touched her cheek drawing his thumb gently along the bruise circling her jaw line. "You'll be fine."

"Julian, why do you…"

"Good bye Katia," he interrupted fully aware of the question she was about to ask. Sark was out the door before she could stop him. It wasn't that he didn't want to answer her question; the truth was that he just didn't know. It had just seemed natural for him to call her Katia.

Kat watched him go and then sank down on the steps with a sigh, wishing that Ilya would return so she could have another smoke. Perhaps she would explore the grounds, but not tonight. She was tired and only wanted to go to sleep

xxxxxxxxx

"What do you mean she called you?" Sydney demanded.

Vaughn took a seat on a metal folding chair in the warehouse building that had quickly become the center for Kat's search.

"She called Marshall, I spoke to her, and she's okay,"

"Are you sure?"

"She said she was and I don't think she was lying."

"What exactly did she say Agent Vaughn?" Jack interrupted.

"Not a lot," he admitted. "Only that she was fine. She wouldn't tell me whom she was with or where, just that she couldn't come back until she found out who set her up. Kat said that the people she was with were helping her."

"Did she mention Sark?" Weiss asked.

"Not specifically," Vaughn shook his head. "But honestly who else could she be with; we all saw what happened when she saw him in Morocco. She did admit to lying to us about him." He looked to Sydney apologetically, "she said she was sorry."

"Did you trace the call?" Weiss asked. "Why not?" he burst out after Vaughn shook his head.

"Weiss, if Kat is with Sark, the call would have been untraceable and if I tried, Brandon would have been notified and he'd know right away that it was her."

"Agent Vaughn is right." Jack resumed his seat. "All we can do is continue our own investigation and wait until she contacts us again."

"But."

"Our hands are tied Sydney," Jack interrupted her. "Your sister is on her own."

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