The Perfect Weapon Chapter 12 part 1 section 2 of 2
"Because, you idiot, why do you think?" Why were they fighting about this? Why was he wasting time like this? Wasn't this the time for bygones to--- But no, he probably thought it was just another one of their arguments. That they had time to fight, then kiss and make up and then fight again. Another endless circle, but tick, tick, tick
"I don't know, you…words escape me, they actually escape me! I can swear in how many languages and I---"
"You want to call me a bitch, don't you? But you're too polite to do so. Even now." Even now….TICK, TICK, TI--
"Well, I got over my distaste for telling you to shut up, so give me a minute and I will probably call you a bitch, Irina!"
She burst out laughing, remembering that day on the quadrangle.
"Why do you push me like this?" he growled, clearly trying to hold onto his temper. Which she did not want. She wanted…
"Why do I push you? It's obvious. For the same reason you like to irritate me. Because I enjoy watching you go ballistic. Tell me what you want, Jack. Or do you have, oh I don't know, too much pride to tell me, to ask? Or has your prejudice already given you the answer?"
"I don't know why you made the attempt! That's why I'm asking! Answer me. Now."
"Ooh! Don't use that tone of voice with me, Jonathan Donahue Bristow!"
"Laura Br--Irina! Do you even have a middle name? I don't even know!"
"My middle name is--"
"It was a rhetorical question, for the love of god! I don't give a damn about your f****** middle name! It could be Nikita Kruschev for all ---"
"That's two names. And watch your language…."
"That's it! I'm warning you…My patience is at its end, the very, living end. Right NOW!"
She said nothing, just stuck her hands on her hips and glared at him.
TICK, TICK, TICK! He had to get this op moving along quicker and here was a way. Actually a doubleplay, possibly painful - learning the truth. Swallowing he said, "Irina, will you answer a question for me? My turn?" Had she wanted a baby too? Had it been that simple, that natural? He looked over at the window, pondering. Could it be that Irina Derevko had wanted her child? But if so, how could she leave her behind? That was the question that haunted him most deeply, that begged for an answer, that was more important than the question of why she had left him.
"I thought you didn't want to know anything about my real background."
"No. If you would listen and remember, I said we did not have time at that moment to deal with my questions about your real past. Nor do we now." TICK, TICK, TICK. "But this has been eating away at me and….now's as good a time as any, isn't it?"
"Go ahead," she said with some trepidation.
"You want to explain to me how it was possible?"
"How's what's possible?" she asked sullenly, knowing what was coming.
"Good grammar there. How was it possible for you to get pregnant?"
"What?" she asked, stalling.
"How was it possible that you got pregnant? That could not have been a plan, pl…Tell me that having a baby was not a deliberate--"
"NO! It was an accident. And it was all your fault! You…distracted me that night, made me forget everything but you, us, like you always do! You---"
"Wait a minute! You - how did YOU get pregnant?"
"Well, to quote you, Mr. Smartass, when a man and a woman love each other---"
"But I was wrong, deluded, wasn't I? Blinded, shall we say, by my emotions?" Her head snapped up. "We weren't just a man and a woman, were we? Or at least you weren't. You were Irina Derevko, master strategist, the woman with a plan, Little Miss Five Year Plan--"
"Shut up!"
"No. You want to explain how that woman forgot to use birth control? I know why I did - I was completely caught up in the moment, had gotten used to you being on the Pill - so perhaps I should have thought about it. My error. I'll take half the blame on that, the sin of omission. But then again, I didn't care, never cared when we started our family. I guess I was just self-absorbed. I would never have truly thought about assigning blame for bringing a baby, our baby, that blessing into the world. So, forgive me for lacking the ability to imagine that you would actually blame me for that - at the time. Forgive me, Irina, for making your life more difficult, when I thought I had helped make Laura's life what she wanted, what she had said she wanted. Forgive me," he spat out. "But you--explain it. Your half of the blame. I never, never forced you to do anything. Explain your failure to use birth control that entire night, the fact that you never remembered until you realized you were pregnant. Explain how you SOMEHOW did not notice that you did not get your period for---"
"I made a mistake! A mistake! People make that kind of mistake all the time --"
"Stop. Since when are you like other people?"
"Since I loved you! Laura, Irina, whatever, I loved you, wanted you, more than…" she trailed off.
"Really? More than what?" She said nothing. He shook his head and continued. "No, you don't. We are talking about YOU. You not using birth control and not realizing you had missed -- was it two or three periods? That was no mistake for Irina Derevko. You used to keep track of your periods on the calendar, remember? So, forgetting about them?" He stopped for a breath and then continued, "Or I thought that, maybe, you had done it - forgotten the diaphragm deliberately - I mean you had it in your purse! You crawled into the car to get the contents of your purse and you still quote unquote forgot? No, honey, that's deliberate. Or that's what I thought as time went on and you never said anything about forgetting to use the diaphragm that night - that you just did not want to admit you had made a mistake with all your planning or that you had changed your mind. That's why I never brought it up - it would be counterproductive with Laura to force her to admit a mistake or that her plans were not good ones. Remember? Or…. did you just do the most amazing job of compartmentalizing ever? That night was Laura…who was married to Jack and they were planning a family, so…..So, spill. Did you WANT to get pregnant or did you just ignore it, subconsciously, hoping it would go away or---" God, what were these words spewing from his mouth? Was he even making any sense? "What. Did. You. Intend?" he demanded.
"I….I….I don't know!" She called out, interrupting him.
"What do you mean, you don't know? Haven't you…" he stopped suddenly and she saw that click in his eyes. "You haven't thought about it before this moment, have you? You've avoided and compartmentalized and obfuscated and---"
"Three words again, Jack, when one would---"
"Why didn't you have an abortion? You could have done it while I was away, told me it was a miscarriage, then told me you could not have more children. Why didn't you?"
"How did---"
"I've had twenty years to meld Irina and Laura together. I know you. Moving along. You were only supposed to be on a five-year assignment, weren't you?"
"How did---"
"Because few of your little plans went beyond five years, none beyond ten. I realized that too late. Realized too late that the Soviets were very fond of their little five and ten year plans, that the children were inculcated with that notion from a young age, especially children groomed to be leaders. That they were so well taught it was second nature. But that nature came into conflict, didn't it? Didn't it?"
"With what, Mr. Know-It-All?"
"Yeah, that's me, the man behind the curtain, the great and powerful Oz? Who was actually a bumbling idiot without a brain! But what I do know is that your professional goals came into conflict, didn't they, with your personal goals when you became pregnant? Or to be accurate, when I got you pregnant - it was all my fault - isn't that what you told me? My fault. And I bought it all these years, that it was my fault. But…you know you loved that movie, the Wizard of Oz - so you tell me, what did Dorothy really want? What did you really want?"
"Stop it, STOP IT!" she yelled, holding her hands to her head. Sitting down hard on the bed before she fell down under the onslaught of his words, spinning her to and fro. "I don't owe you anything! I gave you everything I had to give! My love, my…daughter, my only child. Sydney, I gave you Sydney. I made the sacrifices, not you. Me! You were lucky you did not know the truth, have to live with it everyday…."
He slammed his hand so hard on the top of the bureau, the mirror shook. Before he could say anything else, she reached out to him and said, "Jack, this isn't helpful. I think you need to calm down."
"Calm down, my…ass," they said simultaneously. She broke into a grin that faded slowly as she realized that she had gotten her wish. Jack was angry. But as the proverb says, be careful what you wish for. This was not looking good, she thought as she saw her hand still hanging there, outstretched toward him, encountering nothing but empty air. "Please…We don't have much time left…tonight, this morning. I want…."
"You want? YOU want? You WANT? Do you have any idea what I NEED?" he demanded. She shook her head, groping for words, knowing now what it truly felt like to be on the end of one of his slice and dice attacks. "You are the most brilliant woman, person, I have ever known and yet…. Why are you so blind? Why is the entire world a mirror to you? Is this what genius does - makes you blind to everything but it? Makes everything else unimportant, of lesser priority than fulfilling your…potential," he practically spat the word out. "Is everything, everything less important than achieving your goals, goals set so long ago and never reexamined? Is that a failure of imagination or just sheer stubbornness? Or was there another reason?"
"I…." She hardly knew where to begin to answer all of those questions. No one had questioned her like that since…Dave. No….
"Well, I'll tell you this. I'll tell you one way you excel beyond everyone else. You take self-absorption and compartmentalization to heights never before achieved by man. Or woman. Perhaps you would benefit from therapy. Or a good, hard look in the mirror. You're so very fond of them, after all. Mirrors are your friends, aren't they? So, take a look at yourself. I dare you."
He turned and started walking away from the bed. "Jack!" she called out frantically, hearing the TICK, TICK, TICK! so loudly in her head it was almost deafening. "Where are you going?" She demanded.
"To take a shower. Suddenly," he looked her up and down and somehow with just a look, somehow managed to make her feeI--"I feel the need to…cleanse myself," he said. Dirty. He had just made her feel dirty. He stopped in his movement, pivoted and went to the table. Snagging the wine bottle off of the surface, he resumed his quick pace toward the bathroom
She frowned, what was he doing…It was morning, there was something…. "Jack, what are you doing with that wine?"
"My drinking habits are none of your concern. I survived them before," he unconsciously touched the scar on his lip as he continued, "without your…tender mercies and I'll survive them now as well." He closed the door behind him. Didn't slam it, oh no! Not Jack. Just a snick, click sound. So quiet, so…damn controlled! She darted across the room, picked up the brush and threw it against the door to the bathroom with all her might.
Taking a deep breath, then two, then three more, he stopped for a moment, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. Heard the brush crash into the door. He raised his eyebrow. Gee, someone was a teensy bit…irritated, wasn't she? He leaned forward to look at himself. Seeing the …what was that in his eyes? Was it coldness? As he prepared for this op? Was it hope….? Hope he would not have to do this….would she take this bait? Was it….relief? Relief at saying what he had thought, felt, for so long? Losing control there for a moment….Had that been good? Was this closure of one kind? It was not enough, not yet, but…
What was he doing with the bottle still in his hand anyway? Why was his hand shaking like that? Clearly, he did not need a drink at this point! Like he'd take a drink now, running the most dangerous op of his entire life? Yeah, right. He was not that stupid. Good prop, though, had made her concerned, nervous, curious. He walked over and plunked it down on the back of the toilet, where it could serve as a visual reminder of his weaknesses, all of them, during the next scene in this play. He began adjusting the jets of the Jacuzzi as he calmed himself, used the soporific sight of the eddies and waves to soothe his anger, to get control. He stuck his hand in the water, testing the warmth, swirled it through the whirlpools, sent the bubbly foam spinning around and around.
Now, he needed control to win this. Control was the key at this point in the match. And knowing your opponent. What would be her tactic to open this door? Cajoling, teasing, seduction or demands? That was the quartet of options she'd always used before. He hoped that for once she did not surprise him and do something unexpected. TICK, TICK, TICK. Damn it, Irina, he thought, looking at his watch, this is cutting it a little close. 1, 2, 3….
Her mind swirled. She told herself to focus. What had he said? Drinking habits? The scar? Had that been a true story? What had happened? Oh, forget it, Irina. Deal with now, right now, with the destruction of your perfect night, your perfect plan for a perfect last night to create a perfect final memory with Jack. Recoup, recover, regain lost ground before the spinning that was making her dizzy overwhelmed her. She sat down on the bed again, put her head down on her knees, forced herself to take deep breaths. How did he do this to her? But then again, she made him lose control, too. They were even.
But how, how to get him back where she wanted, needed him. How, how? How should she get him out of that room? TICK, TICK, TICK She knew she could, if she could find the right method he could not resist her, would not want to resist her….but how?
She was out of her usual options, she realized. TICK! TICK! TICK! Cajoling, seduction, teasing, demands….no, the old standbys in the chase game would not work. Not even a word game would work. Not now. She needed to think like Jack, think outside the box or in this case, stick her head outside the vortex he had sent spinning. So…maybe she needed to get into that room with him. But then, what? Use his own tactics against him….There was always, he had said so many times, another choice. What was hers? She needed a surprising move. What would be the biggest shock she could give him? Her head snapped up. The only choice left was…. The other choice was….could it be…the truth? Damn it, the truth? She was desperate enough to try it. She got up. Time was wasting. tick she heard as she went toward the door, ignoring her image in the mirror as she passed. tick, tick
Snick, click.
TBC at Chapter 12 part 2 section 1 of 2