A/N: So, this is just a little story I came up with centering around Irina. It'll be broken up into five parts, all of which will be short and sweet. The first of these takes place when Irina is eighteen. I apologize if she seems a bit OOC, but keep in mind that she hasn't been recruited by the KGB yet. She hasn't been exposed to the life of a spy, or the manipulation that comes with it. In a word, she's innocent—but she'll change into the crazy criminal we all know and love as the story progresses ;).
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias. At all. If I did, it would definitely still be on the air!
The Time She Fell into a Tangled Web
Eighteen-year old Irina Derevko thought she knew exactly what she was going to do with her life. And she was always willing to tell anyone who would listen to her.
"A school teacher?" Her advisor looked up from her paper, his eyes narrowed skeptically. Irina wasn't discouraged. She lifted her chin, flashed him a proud smile, and nodded.
"Yes. A school teacher."
The advisor made a tiny note on one of his charts. "I see…and what is it you're interested in teaching, Miss Derevko?"
"English." Irina answered promptly.
"English?"
"Yes."
"Here in Russia?"
"As a second language, yes." She answered once again, her head tilted slightly to one side. She certainly wasn't oblivious to the advisor's wary tone, but she wasn't quite sure why he was taking this attitude with her. Wasn't it his job to encourage her?
He stared at her through his thick-rimmed glasses, looking serious. "Your language skills are very impressive. Your English is nearly perfect, and I hear you're very fluent in German as well."
"I'm learning French, too." Irina beamed, unable to keep from boasting. In the strict, straight-forward environment she'd grown up in, it wasn't often that she received praise for the things she did.
"You're very intelligent, Miss Derevko. Apart from your language skills, you are excellent at retaining information, thinking on your feet…manipulating others. Your results tell us all of this." But then the advisor hesitated. "And you have never considered…doing something more with your talents?" He inquired carefully.
Irina's smile lessened slightly. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this last comment. "You don't think teaching is an honorable occupation?" It was more of an accusation than a question, a tone that suggested she was about to go off on one of her infamous, self-righteous rants. "You think it's silly to want to help people grow and learn and—and change? My mother was a teacher, and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of her life!"
The advisor, slightly alarmed that the young woman before him had taken such a defensive stance, cleared his throat. "I did not mean to imply that your ambition is foolish." He said in a patronizing tone that did nothing to soothe Irina's irritation. "I only meant that the qualities you possess…the extent of your talents…makes you very special. You could do incredible things, Miss Derevko. You could help people."
There was a very loaded pause after he finished speaking, in which Irina stared at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
Without answering immediately, the advisor stood up. Purposefully, he walked towards the door and clicked the lock shut. He then made his way over to the room's only window and drew the blinds closed. Feeling Irina tense at this, he turned back to face her.
"I am offering you the chance to serve your country." He said, very softly. "I am offering you a chance to leave your mark on the world, a chance to protect everything you stand for…I am offering you a position in the KGB."
Irina simply gaped at him, half-convinced that she had heard him wrong. The government was interested in recruiting her, of all people? This had to be a trick. An elaborate joke, perhaps. She suddenly became intensely suspicious of the man before her, and wondered what his real motives were. "Mr. Baikov…"
"Agent Baikov." He corrected her. "I am working here under the cover of a student counselor because it places me in an ideal position to watch for potential KGB recruits. Rarely have I come across a profile that fits our standards as well as yours does." He smiled at her for the first time as he said this.
In all honesty, Irina didn't know what to say. She found herself stumbling over words, searching for some kind of response to give. "I…I don't think you understand. I'm not cut out to be a—a spy, or whatever it is you're asking—"
"On the contrary," Mr. Baikov interrupted. "We very much believe that you are." When Irina was silent, her continued on. "Very few are offered such a chance to serve their country. It is an honor. You would be considered a hero."
Upon hearing this word, Irina drew a breath. His words were stirring ambition deep within her. Growing up, she'd always been the quiet one. She liked to read and tended to keep to herself—and being the youngest of her sisters, she'd always felt that her elder siblings outshined her in most respects. Elena had always been smarter than her, and Katya more popular. Irina had spent most of her childhood blending in. Becoming invisible.
But now that she admitted it to herself, she had always wanted so much more than that. She'd always felt that she could give more. Accepting this offer would be doing exactly that. It would be taking care of herself; it was a chance to be admired and looked up to by her people.
She hesitated still, gazing at Mr. Baikov with uncertainty. Could this be real? It still felt like a dream.
"It wouldn't be easy, of course." He said to her, as if he were reading her mind. "You would need to go through months of training. Some don't have what it takes to make it through. But if I didn't believe you had it, I wouldn't have approached you with this in the first place. One more thing, Irina." Calling her by her first name for the first time, he pulled a small slip of paper out of his jacket pocket. "You have so much to offer the KGB…but we have much to offer you as well. The name on that paper is the key to more greatness than you could ever imagine."
Irina took the paper when it was offered to her, unfolded it, and read the single name that was scrawled there:
Milo Rambaldi
The name seemed somehow significant. She couldn't explain it, but as she repeated the name aloud, there was something about the way it slipped from her lips that drew her to this Milo Rambaldi.
It was this spark of curiosity that sealed the deal. How was she to know that this single commitment, this flicker of interest she bore, would be the start of the obsession that would ultimately be her undoing?
This is the chance of a lifetime. It was what Katya used to say right before she'd drag her younger sister off on some mischievous childhood scheme.
Irina looked back into the eyes of Mr. Baikov, and a smile graced her features.
"When do I begin?"
