The Perfect Weapon Chapter 2004: Part 3 section 1

[camillecarelli]

Note: This part of Chapter 2004 is too long for one post, so it is divided into sections.

Chapter 2004: Part 3

Jack opened the door to Kendall’s office as he always did. Without knocking, Kendall thought sourly, and took a stronger grip on the folders in his hand.

“What kind of ship are you running on the night shift, Kendall?” Jack asked, nodding in the direction of the rotunda. “The only ones out there are Weiss and Marshall and they’re nervous wrecks. What’s going on? Marshall is biting his nails and rocking back and forth. Weiss is pacing a hole in the floor. I gave them both a pencil and told them what to do with it. Perhaps you need the advice as well?” Jack gave the kind of smile that always made Kendall nervous.

“Do you have a point, Jack? Or are you just criticizing my supervisory skills?” Kendall asked, stiffening. How did Jack do that? Put him on the defensive in less than a minute?

“Why no, of course not, Assistant Director Kendall. Why would I do that?”

“Is Sark your son?” Kendall snapped, seeing or rather, hearing a sudden resemblance.

Jack stopped in his walk toward Kendall’s desk. “What? No. God, no.” He shuddered at the thought. “That little flying monkey?”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” Jack shrugged. “Given his age, Irina would have been pregnant during our marriage and while I may have been unable to see that she was a KGB agent, I certainly would have noticed that she was pregnant. I’m not that blind.”

Kendall stared at him. “Did you just make a joke about the fact that your wife was---”

“Yes. But surely you didn’t call me in here to--”

“I suppose you could have a DNA test done on Sark---”

“He’s not my son, Kendall. What is it with this fixation---”

“Or I suppose you could just ask Derevko.”

“Do you?” What the hell was Kendall about? Surely he hadn’t call him in at 3am to speculate on the parental origins of the lesser species of apes.

“Yes. After all....” Kendall smirked. “Isn’t that what your entire thesis is based upon? Asking the woman---”

“There is so much wrong with that question I hardly know where to begin,” Jack sighed, moving forward slowly. His eyes dropped to the folders in Kendall’s hands and then moved back up when he realized he could see no folder headings on them. “Should I begin with the dropped preposition? Or should I begin with the fact that you are referring to my dissertation, not my thesis? Because a thesis is for a master’s degree and a dissertation is for a PhD and the document to which you are referring was for my PhD. The difference between a thesis and dissertation is common knowledge, but then again, given your difficulties with advanced level math theory in college it’s no surprise that you aren't aware of graduate level information--”

“How did you know that about my college math class?” Kendall slapped his hands down on the desk, sending some papers fluttering. In a quick movement, he gathered them up in front of him. “Let me guess. There is no subsitute for extensive background research?”

“Why, Kendall, you listened to me. I’m flattered.” Jack smirked. “Now, let me give you some advice about personnel management---”

“Jack!” Kendall barked across the office. He hardly needed one of Bristow’s critiques of his supervisory skills. He’d had enough of Bristowcritiques to last him a lifetime.

“Must you be so loud?” Jack asked the moment he reached him. Kendall’s voice seemed to bounce around the room tonight. He must be more tired than he’d realized. Or too much caffeine or... Too much delay. Too much anticipation. Too much and yet not enough. He needed a vacation. And a long conversation with his wife. Exasperated, he thrust his hand into his hair and sighed.

“Must you be so...you?” Kendall retorted. Did Jack have to do that...thing with his hair? Did he do it just to aggravate? Who the hell was he kidding? Of course, Jack did it to aggravate. The man had a master’s degree in aggravation. That PhD of his, though, was another story and might come in handy some day. Not tonight. Tonight was about game theory of another kind. Although... Kendall looked down at the folders, perhaps not.

“What a comeback. Did you stay up all night thinking of that one?” Jack raised an eyebrow as he stood across from Kendall.

“No, you smartass. I stayed up all night wondering how to tell you this. As well as making other...plans in this game in play.”

Jack stared at Kendall, waiting for him to speak. It was weakness to ask a question, after all, in this situation -- one in which you seemed to be at a disadvantage. With a deep feeling of unease... Damn it, there he was identifying his feelings again. He’d have to tell Judy and get a gold star. Good, distract yourself from that vague feeling of anxiety and excitement. Stare at Kendall, make him uncomfortable, impel him to speak first. 1, 2, 3... Success.

Kendall finally said, “There are so many options...”

“Options, plural?” Jack sat down with an elaborate sigh. “Do you mind if I sit down? I imagine it might take you quite a while to think of more than one.”

“Go ahead, relax.” Keeping one hand on the papers, Kendall waved the other in Jack’s direction. “You’ll need all the rest you can get now. Before...”

“Before what?” Jack asked as he stared. Kendall had something, or thought he had something up his sleeve. “Do I have time to shave, then? Before....”

“You just might wish to shave. Before your next interrogation, shall we call it? Of course, you may not wish to call it an interrogation.” Kendall smirked. Jack’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

“No? Why would that be?” Jack picked a pencil off of Kendall’s desk and tapped it impatiently. “Can you move this along? I have a long, boring day ahead of me writing reports on Mexico City and---”

“Do you? I wonder. Will those reports be complete or will they omit certain details?”

“Omit certain details?” Jack shrugged when Kendall did not answer immediately, knowing he could and would show no anxiety.

“Yes,” Kendall finally said. Why did he think he could win a staring contest with Jack, anyway? The man had suffered more interrogations and tortures from opponents far more ruthless than he ever wished to be. “Details. Remember them? You’re a detail man, after all, Jack. So I find it curious that your reports of the last few months are not, shall we say, complete.”

“Do you?” Jack asked casually. “It’s always a judgment call, of course, when you have as many years of field experience as I have, about which details might be more productive if omitted. But then again, you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Jack smiled as Kendall frowned. Good. Let Kendall handle that jab at his lack of field experience while he ascertained at what weakness of Jack’s Kendall thought he was hinting. Because he couldn’t know about Irina. Could he? What did Kendall think he knew and who had told him? It would be like Arvin to set Jack up for a return engagement in federal prison by passing along intel that Irina was working with him again. But no. Arvin would have had no proof. The only one who might have that kind of proof was---

“That’s not the kind of detail I’m talking about!” Kendall snapped.

“I have no idea as to what you are referring.” Jack yawned. “Kendall, can we move on? And it had better be of earth-shattering importance. It was 3am when you called.”

“Like you were sleeping?”

“Do you think I’m a vampire? Of course I was sleeping.”

“You didn’t sound as though you were sleeping.”

“Of course I didn’t. You don’t know this, not having spent any time in the field...” Jack flung a contemptuous glance at Kendall to ensure that the insult was clear. “But the ability to wake in an instant can mean the difference between life and death.”

“Tell me about it,” Kendall muttered under his breath, loosening the collar of his shirt, which was rubbing him the wrong way.

Jack stared at him. If Kendall were here to arrest him for conspiring with an international terrorist, this was an unlikely way to go about it. “I’d like you to tell me about it. The reason I had to haul my ass in here in the middle of the night. Because it better not have been to have this type of scintillating conversation with you---”

“That’s true,” Kendall said. Smugly, Jack thought, Kendall looked smug. His warning signals clanged loudly in his head as Kendall continued. “Because you’ve been having far more scintillating conversations with someone else. Haven’t you?”

Jack’s sense of danger went on high alert, although his body stayed relaxed and his face showed only normal impatience. “Get to the point. Before I fall asleep from sheer boredom.”

“Well, this should help keep your eyes open.” Kendall tapped a folder on his desk and then held it out. “Transcript, anyone?”

Jack slowly opened the plain manila folder and felt his brain stop even as his eyes flew back and forth across the page. He blinked as he saw it in black and white. Looking up, he shrugged. “Anyone can write anything. As we all know. I believe it’s called fiction. You’ve heard of fiction, haven’t you? Because we’ve all done it to frame someone. And having been framed before, my tolerance---”

“Recording, then?” Kendall passed a pair of earphones over to Jack and waited until Jack slowly put them on.

“It’s me,” Irina whispered, urgency clear in her voice.

“Hi, me,” he answered, his voice slurred. “Laura...”

“Damn. It. I swear---”

“Laura? Laura. Am I having another surgery?”

“Jack, you’re a little confused.”.....

Thud.

Jack took a small breath, surprised in a way that he still could. That thud of his heart -- had Kendall heard it or just him?

And confused was hardly a strong enough word, Jack decided as he forced himself to breathe normally and show no emotion whatsoever. He listened to the recording, more interested in buying time than what their words revealed, although he grimaced occasionally. And why had he told her he wanted a surprise? Surprises were a problem to be solved. Focus, he told himself, on solving this problem. Have faith, his little voice said. Slowly, he took off the earphones and laid then on Kendall’s desk and waited for the next move of the offense, while he debated his best defensive manuever.

“Let me guess. That would be your friend, Hymie?” Kendall asked, as Jack looked at him calmly. He had been right; Bristow was cool even under these conditions. The others had been ridiculously concerned about his reaction. “Hymie alias Irina Derevko alias Laura Bristow alias--”
“Whatever.” Jack shrugged as he carefully tapped his finger tips together. Show no weakness, he told himself, as he asked calmly, “How did you acquire this?”

“A good question.” Kendall smiled.

With the greatest effort, Jack avoided wrapping his hands around that scrawny neck and squeezing. He stared at it, however, until Kendall's hand involuntarily went to his collar and loosened it. Idly, Jack noted a small nick on Kendall's neck. That was quite a shaving cut, he thought, deliberately distracting himself. "A good question, indeed. One it would behoove you to answer," Jack suggested, feeling the tightness of his jaw and lips as he spoke.

"Apparently," Kendall admitted, once again tugging on his collar as his eyes flicked from Jack's hands to his face.

"And the answer is...." Jack gritted out. "Did you forget the question? From whom did you obtain the tape?"

"Why..." Kendall smiled and patted the folders in front of him. "I received the tape from your lovely wife. Of course."

“Really,” Jack said into the silence that felt like a dead calm in the ocean. The unnatural stillness in which nothing moved, not even a breath of air. Speaking of which, breathe, he told himself. He took a deep breath, knowing that he had felt a flare of panic a moment before. But really....Panic was always a mistake. That mistake, based upon past experience, a learned response that had to be overcome like any other bad habit. And his past experience had taught him caution. There was a difference between caution and fear. Fear was an ineffective response. Caution was a constructive response, hence his careful documentation of every interaction with every Intelligence Committee member, his accumulation of every scandalous detail of their lives. If Irina proved unfaithful, it would be a blot on his record, but no more so, really, than any other agent misled by a contact.

If...then.

If...then.

If...then.

Think like Irina, he told himself. This is her game, assuming Kendall tells any truth and it’s not some plan of Sloane’s. But if it is her game...

If she had betrayed him, his bases were covered. Therefore, the only danger was to his carefully-guarded heart, not his person. That was all, he told himself wryly, just his heart. Forcing himself to proceed, he began to speak calmly, musingly, knowing as always that it was a mistake to show weakness to an opponent.. Hmm. His brain had just told him that Kendall was an opponent. “That’s interesting. I wonder...”

“Wonder what?” Kendall asked eagerly.

Too eagerly, Jack realized as he further compartmentalized. Analyze this, he told himself.

“What the point would be?” Jack asked slowly. “After all, I’ve made sure my ass is covered. Experience has taught me well. I’m sure you know - you must have done this much investigating - that I’ve documented every --”

“Yes, yes, I know the Intelligence Committee not only knows, but has approved of your actions---”

“You know that. Really?” Jack asked as he pursed his lips and stared at Kendall. So, Kendall knew that Jack had covered every base, every contingency. It was Irina who was most at risk in their game plan, if he betrayed her. So... “So, what’s your point, Kendall?”

“You should know her best,” Kendall prevaricated.

“I do know her best,” Jack agreed. “I’ve predicted her behavior, knew she was planning on betraying us in Panama---”

“You like that, don’t you, Jack? Being able to predict someone’s behavior?”

Jack shrugged as he pondered the significance of the question and then decided to go with the obvious answer. “Who wouldn’t? It makes life less messy.” He heard his words and almost groaned. Groaned as relief began to creep into his heart. What the hell had she done? “And if nothing else, Irina’s mind...is logical. So, I have to ask what the point of this would be.”

What was the point? Really, there were only two options. Either she had betrayed him (or tried to) or she had not. What was the point of betraying him this time? He pondered it, examining options, rejecting them all. There was no logic to be found in a futile attempt to incarcerate him again, any geopolitical option, any Rambaldi arcania. There was only one option. The only possible reason would have been sheer... meanness. Sadism, really. And for all her faults, she was not a sadist. Even the first time she had betrayed him, she had deliberately ignored the costs of her actions. Had hardly reveled in the results, had not wanted to count the costs. Even now, he sometimes thought she had trouble handling it. That avoidance was a mistake, a serious flaw but hardly the work of someone who was sadistic. So why would she betray him? It didn’t feel right, he thought, felt, as he put his hand on his middle. There was something...wrong. But not in him or with them. No... Something...

Jack’s gaze focused on Kendall’s eyes. He knew. Something was hidden there. “Perhaps, Kendall, you might begin at the beginning. It’s a very good place to start.” Wasn’t that a line from a movie, he wondered irrelevantly. Which was it.. Oh, The Sound of Music. Well, Kendall better start singing soon, or he’d find a way to make him talk. And actually, that might be more enjoyable than this farce. But timing was everything in every farce, so he sat back and watched and waited, while his brain searched for answers.

“Yes,” Kendall snapped finally, growing uncomfortable with Bristow’s silence, his intensity. Kendall could feel Jack’s brain working, which always made him a little nervous. He squared his shoulders, beginning to wish he had just stayed true to the game plan. But...in for a penny, he supposed, and said with a shrug, “She wasn’t captured, if that’s what you’re thinking. And there is no mistake - they were not delivered by anyone else. She handed them over voluntarily.”

“And where is she now?” Jack asked blandly, as if the answer were unimportant.

“Somewhere...safe.”

“That is a non-answer,” Jack spat out. ‘Safe.’ That could mean anything. She could be eating chocolate in a deluxe hotel room or chained to a wall in a cell. What was the definition of safe, anyway? And how safe could one play it in the game between a man and a woman, anyway? Fear and love could not coexist. Responding from fear, as Judy had told him - okay, she had yelled it at him - was a bad idea. Once again, she was right. He had a choice. He could operate from faith or fear. And logic wasn’t bad either. Because what in the world could Irina gain by betraying him? “What did you say? Tell me again,” Jack urged, steepling his fingers in front of him. “How did you get the recording?”

“She gave me the recording.”

“Why?” Jack barked out.

“I beg your pardon?” Kendall asked, staring to sweat. He had not been expecting that question.

“Why. It’s one of the basic questions in any investigation. Surely...” Jack paused, feeling a sense of calmness come over him. He was on the right track, he knew, feeling a surge of adrenaline under the calm, like a current below the surface of the ocean. This time, he wasn’t going to get swept out to sea. This time, he was paddling faster than the waves. “Surely you must know if you’ve investigated me, even if you’ve never successfully conducted any other investigation,” Jack sneered. “That one must ask who, where, how---”
“I know that!” Kendall snapped. Damn it, damn it.

Jack smiled as he saw the flare of panic in Kendall’s eyes. He was on the correct path. “So, answer the question. I think I’m entitled to know why Derevko would give you that recording.”

“To betray you...” Kendall bit off. “Is one option. You must have considered it.”

“Must I? Really. Did you say that as a question or a statement? But in any case, it hardly matters. Why did she hand in that recording?” In a flash, Jack knew that was the big question. The one that had to be answered. He repeated, leaning forward, “Why?”

“In return for something she wanted,” Kendall told him, then looked down at his papers and straightened them. They didn’t need straightening, Jack could see. What was in those papers? Did they explain what Irina had wanted?

“Really,” Jack said again, then said no more. He had to think. Analyze this. What else could he see, Jack thought, as he looked at Kendall, at his surroundings. He looked around, ignoring Kendall’s restive movements as he awaited more of a response. The file folders on his desk were thick. Unlabeled. Highly classified, then. It was 3am with only a skeleton crew on board. Marshall and Weiss were good kids, but hardly capable of being able to handle him. He sat there, staring at Kendall, watching his pale brow grow rosy with sweat and discomfort, and slowly smiled. If Kendall was sweating and uncomfortable that meant all was not as it might appear. What a shocking turn of events in his life. Not. It appeared that he had been betrayed by the same woman who had betrayed him before. “Appearances can be deceiving,” he said aloud. “As I’ve learned in my life. People one thinks are dead come back to life, for example.”

“That does seem to be a pattern in your life,” Kendall agreed.

As does betrayal, Jack knew. True, it would be a pattern. Which Kendall would know. And use... How? Why? What did Kendall want? What did Irina want? What did he want, besides to avoid incarceration?

But... No, he was not in the same position he had been in last time. Then, he had been neatly framed. As neatly framed as the images of a trusting, naked man closed up in a portfolio, nailed inside a sliding door. As neatly framed as the false picture Irina had had of him as a man who could withstand anything, who would not be shattered by her loss and duplicity. He was not the man he had been, not as trusting nor as innocent. The loss of innocence was a step on the path of life that took one in new directions. Knowing it would annoy Kendall, he smiled again in remembrance as he allowed his brain to travel down the path it seemed to want to take.

“Day-um,” Dave had exclaimed, putting his hand on Jack’s arm to halt his pell-mell rush into the fetid, dank, dark, twisting alleys of Cairo. “Hold up.”

“Okay,” Jack had stopped and turned. Looking wide-eyed at each other, the two men began to laugh. Gasping, Jack asked, “Have you ever done anything like that before---”

“Nope!” Dave shook his head and looked back in the direction of the Cairo home they had just vacated in stumbling stupor. “I think that was the definition of debauchery. I have been debauched. Officially debauched. What’s the date?”

“Why?”

“I need to know so I can write it in my diary under the heading, ‘This was the day of Dave’s debauchery.’”

“You are drunk. And nuts,” Jack laughed, leaning on his friend, feeling a little woozy.

Dave looked down. “I don’t think that would be an accurate description of me at this jun, junk, time. At this time..”
“Why not?”

“I don’t think I could be defined by my nuts since I do believe that after that---” Dave pointed over his shoulder. “I don’t think my nuts are gonna recover any time soon.”

“I’m surprised we can walk!” Jack whispered, looking around them carefully. Two young drunk Americans would be prime candidates for a mugging or worse in these dirty streets.

“Do you remember where the hotel is?” Dave whispered, taking Jack’s cue.

Jack blinked and looked around. He nodded. “Sure, don’t you? Didn’t you count on the way in? Just reverse it. You just take a right here, then a left, then another---”

“Oh, shut up and lead on. I’m lost. I admit it.” Dave sighed. He barely had any sense of direction sometimes, whereas Jack always seemed to find a way out. “This is one reason why you’re always beating me in those field work evaluations--”

“Ha! You finally admit that I’m useful for something---”

“Well, your youth gives you an advantage. Like tonight,” Dave teased, laughing when he saw the pink enter his younger friend’s cheeks. What a kid sometimes. “That woman thought you were quite useful.”

“Yeah, more than once!” Jack exclaimed, turning surprised eyes toward his friend. “I was shocked---”

“Me too,” Dave confided “This is not typical nightlife in Des Moines, lemme tell you!”

“Well, Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Jack said, shaking his head as he led the way back home.

Thud

Jack had grimaced as he slammed the phone receiver a little too firmly into the base on top of the desk in their hotel room late the next morning. He put his hand to his temple and winced. Stupid move, Bristow. A soft touch would have been just as effective. And less painful.

“Who was that?” Dave asked, his deep voice gravelly this morning. “What evil person was waking us into the world of the worst hangovers ever?”

“Malida.” Jack smiled reminiscently.

“I asked who that was, not if there was a coffee maker in the room,” Dave said snappishly

“I said Malida, not Melita. The woman not the coffee maker, you dope.”

“Well, both have the ability to get you up,” Dave quipped. Then dropping his voice to a whisper with a pained look on his face, he admitted, “The nuances of your Canadian vowels escape me this morning, Jackie--”

“Don’t call me Jackie,” Jack said, rolling his eyes, then wishing he hadn’t. He lay back down on the bed, willing the ceiling to stop spinning.

“I suppose I shouldn’t. You’re not a boy any longer, not after last night,” Dave said, deepening his voice to what Jack had always referred to as his ‘big brother’ tone.

“I suppose I’ll grow up some more tonight. She asked me to another party--”

“I don’t know that you should go by yourself. You’re such a kid, they might hurt you,” Dave chuckled weakly, then groaned. “I think they already hurt me.”

“That’s because you’re old. Those few years you have on me make all the difference, you know.”
“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Recovery time is slower as one ages, as we saw last night,” Jack teased. Then rubbing his forehead, he admitted, “Good thing this wasn’t one of those physical tests at Langley!”

Slowly, carefully turning over, Dave pointed his finger at Jack. “So... guess you passed their test, schoolboy?”

“Oh shut up.” Jack grinned, then groaned too. “By the way, they invited you too.”

“Well, then! That’s a different story.”

“I bet,” Jack smiled at his friend.

“You bet is right. We couldn’t turn down such a gracious offer! And they asked for me too?”

“Yeah. As a chaperone. Clearly, you’re too old for anything else,” Jack began, then started to laugh at the look on Dave’s face. “Don’t make me laugh, Dave. Even smiling hurts. What did they put in those drinks?”

“I’m sure we don’t want to know. But...can you remember what happened last night or is it hazy?”

Jack thought for a moment, then smiled, a little weakly, but the type of smile a young man with more libido than sense would smile. “Oh, you bet I remember!”

“Me too!” Dave said, putting his hand on his forehead and flipping on to his back. Skewing his eyes toward his friend, he wiggled his eyebrows. “Wonder what tests they’ll have cooked up for us next time?”

Thud

Jack nodded to himself. This was it. A test. Life had many of them. And this - Jack knew with another hard thud of his heart - was the one Irina had posed to him in that phone call that seemed so long ago.

“It’s an either-or-choice. We’ve gotten to a point where you either have to trust me or not.”

He had stopped, knowing she was right. “I...You’re right,” he had said.

“Jack,” Kendall asked, straightening his tie, then sticking a finger into his collar immediately to loosen it. “Don’t you have something to say?” The longer Jack Bristow was silent, the larger the pool of sweat he could feel forming against his spine.

“Why, yes, I do. A question. What would she gain by betraying me?” Jack shrugged. “Irina’s strength - and her weakness - is her logic, her reliance on logic. So...Betraying me gains her what when working with me was gaining her a pardon? Therefore, what else does she want?”

“I asked her that question,” Kendall told him, stalling as he tried to devise an answer. This was why he was not in the field. He hadn’t anticipated the potential pitfalls of his choice of mistruths and now he could not conceive of a reasonable response. Jack would probably have no problem, of course. Damn him.

“And what was her answer? Do tell. I’m listening. What does she want?” What did Kendall want? What did he hope to gain? What did Kendall always want? Jack almost smashed his fist into Kendall’s face as he contemplated the obvious answer. Looking down at his hand, forcing his fingers to uncurl and relax, he made a silent promise to himself before looking back up appraisingly at the man opposite him. Was this, could this, all be just a piece of Kendall’s almost pathological need to be king of the hill? ‘Scratch an adult and find a needy child,’ Dave had said once. It was time to scratch, Jack thought and sat up straight.

Kendall opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again as he parried, “You seem stuck on that question from your dissertation from thirty years ago, Jack. Times change.”

“But human beings as a species do not. The truth is and has always been that if you find out what someone wants, then you find the baseline truth. And you, Sylvester...You want...? I know. Power. Acclaim. A dick bigger than everyone else’s. A better parking spot. A chance to one up me. That would bolster your ego,” Jack nodded. “So...You’re telling the truth, but not the whole truth,” Jack said and decided abruptly. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Kendall.

“Why would you think that?” Kendall scoffed, even as he straightened his tie then almost immediately put his hand into the collar and loosened it.

Jack noted that and picked up a pencil from Kendall’s desk and began tapping it, using the rhythmic motion to focus. His danger signals were focused solely on the man before him. He searched himself, knowing that last time in his innocence and need to trust he had denied the truth for too long. Those days, that man, were gone. And yet, he did not feel betrayed. So... If he could trust his little voice... If she had not betrayed him, she might have... He had told her more than once that he wanted the seemingly-endless subterfuge of their lives to be over. Wanted to get her the pardon and...What had she said she wanted? He thought of their last conversation less than an hour ago. She had begun and ended the conversation by telling him she loved him.

”I love you, remember that.”

“I won’t forget,” he had promised softly.

Well, it wouldn’t kill him to remember that promise right now, he decided, tapping the pencil in his hand. He looked at the pencil, noted that it had bite marks. He almost smiled as relief once began to creep a little deeper inside his heart, warming it.

“Since when do you bite your pencil, Kendall?” Jack asked abruptly.

Kendall blinked. “What? I tell you your wife handed in a tape of your conversation with her indicating that you two have been working together since Panama and you ask about my pencil?”

“Before shoving it into your eye? Sure. And...” Jack paused as his fingers rolled the pencil around and around. What was that... Light pink lipstick. “You’re lying.” Jack said it flatly. “What other lies have you told? Or...mistruths, perhaps?”

“You’re familiar with those, aren’t you, Jack? All of those mistruths you told about Derevko’s actions, thoughts, plans - you didn’t surmise those based upon your knowledge of her, you knew it because she told you.”

“You’re angry because I went behind your back.” That was it, Jack knew, lifting his eyes slowly to look at Kendall, see the spite there.

“Yes! I am your superior---”

Jack rolled his eyes. “As I recall, weren’t you the one who said something about going behind the back being the norm in this office? So.. What does Judith Barnett have to do with all of this?” Jack asked, as he looked up from the pencil.

“Barnett?” Kendall asked quickly. “Why would you think---”

“This pencil. Has her style of bite marks on it and...”

“Don’t tell me you could identify a pencil by an individual’s---”

“Actually, I could.Or forensics could for me. But for your information, it also has her shade of lipstick on it---”

“She’s been in here a time or two---”

“That’s undoubtedly true,” Jack agreed. “True enough so that it’s not a lie. Not really. But when was she here is the question. When? The ‘when’ question. The evidence indicates that she was here recently enough that...” Jack held the pencil up and rubbed his thumb across the lipstick. “That the lipstick still has enough moisture in it to easily smudge? That would take...oh, less than half an hour to dry enough to---”

“Don’t---”

“What does Judith Barnett have to do with all of this, Sylvester?” Jack asked, leaning back in his chair, waiting for the answer. “Answer me,” he ordered. “I tire of playing games with an amateur.”

“So...” A glass of water plunked down on the surface in front of Irina. Next came a slim packet from a lingerie store.

“Thank you for retrieving these for me,” Irina said with a small smile as she tapped her finger on the packet. “I think these will be a good idea--"

"Just in case," the two women finished together.

Irina smiled as she took a sip from the glass. "And why the water?”

“You were looking a little...warm after that phone call.” The voice was coolly amused.

“If you’d ever had a phone call like that from him, you’d be warm too!” Irina blurted out. Taking a sip of water, she could avoid wincing. Why had she lost control like that? In front of this person of all people. She knew too much, saw too much. Gave her opinion too much. Too much like damn Dave. Irina stifled a groan of frustration. That was why. Frustration. Jack could irritate and arouse her in the same breath, with the same words. He was... Jack. Her Jack. That was who she had been talking to earlier tonight. A little different, to be sure. A little more...demanding, in a way. She nodded to herself as she thought back over the last few months. He seemed to be less patient, in some ways, than he’d been before. That could be a problem, or... She smiled slowly... Perhaps not. In certain situations.

“You’re right. I haven’t had a phone call like that from Jack. My phone calls with him usually result in biting pencils or flinging them across the room.” Judith Barnett smiled.

Irina nodded. “Believe me, I’ve known that feeling as well.” She took another sip of water. “Another feeling I’m coming to know quite well is the desire to strangle Kendall. He was in here before, asking me what I wanted. Again. As if I haven’t told him--”

“I’ll just warn you one last time, that I think this set up is somewhat problematic. Kendall is not trustworthy and Jack may kill you before he kisses you---”

“Why? This is a simple plan, really. Kendall presents him with the documents, my gift, and you’re there to prevent any male stupidity---”

Judy sighed. “Yes. But that’s what I’m afraid of. Kendall has this particularly... advanced stage of male stupidity--”

“The need to prove he can piss farther than the boy next door?” Irina sighed. “Yes, doctor, I’ve noticed that. But even he would not be so stupid as to push Jack in this situation.” She shook her head.

Judy shook her head too. “In my professional opinion...”

“Yes?” Irina tilted her head and studied the woman in front of her. She was an interesting person. Many opinions. None of which she hesitated to express. Irina winced as she remembered a few particularly-pointed ones that she had expressed in the last twenty-four hours.

“In my professional opinion,” Judy said in a stilted, formal tone. “Stupidity is a vastly-underrated causal factor in human behavior.”

Irina burst out laughing, welcomed the break in the tension of waiting for Jack to arrive. “Especially in men?”

“Especially in men,” Judy agreed with a small smile. Derevko might be an international terrorist with a dubious record of emotional choices and an obsessive disorder and she an American psychologist with a failed marriage, no children, and a chocolate fetish, but they could agree on men. “I just feel the need to point out...” Judy sighed again and rubbed her tired eyes. It wasn’t a bad plan. In some ways it was utterly brilliant. A loving gesture. A deeply-trusting one. A gift, really. But one that could be easily misinterpreted and for someone with Jack’s trust issues... Would he be able to respond analytically, listen to his little voice? Would he respond from faith or from fear? And given that it was Kendall... She warned, “The best laid plans of mice and men---”

“‘Gang aft agley.’” Irina sighed “The best laid plans can go awry. Robert Burns. ‘To a Mouse.’ The companion to...” She looked at Judy and shrugged. Life seemed to be composed of circles. “The night Jack proposed he read me a poem and the only poem I could think of in response was Burns’ ‘To a Louse’-- And no comments, please!”

“Apparently there is no need for me to make a verbal comment about the serendipitous paths our brains choose to take when we don’t box ourselves in,” Judy said in a prim tone that made Irina roll her eyes. “But I do feel a need to repeat, however briefly, the discussion about the advantages and disadvantages of surprises is that they may bounce back on us in unexpected ways.”

“Even if Kendall is an ass, Jack will analyze the situation properly."

"Why do you say that?" Judy thought Jack would analyze the situation properly too. She hoped and prayed he would. He might panic momentarily, but if he was as whole as she believed him to be, he should be fine. Better than fine, really, because he would learn more about his own strengths. Learn that he could do this on his own, which was a critical step on the path he had chosen to take. It was always difficult though, to know someone had to pass through fire, albeit a little bit of it, to cleanse themselves.

Irina sighed. "Jack is a brilliant analyst. And more importantly, I have faith and I hope Jack does too,” Irina said for what seemed like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, Judy frowned, then nodded. Irina looked down at her watch. “I’m surprised that we haven’t heard from Kendall yet. Where is Jack? I feel...”

Judy nodded. “It’s time---” She paused when her pager beeped. Frowning as she pressed a button on her phone, she looked down at Irina. “You’re determined to stay here?”

Irina looked around. “Location is everything.”

“If you’re talking about real estate. If you’re talking about human relationships, honesty is everything. Or at least it’s a necessary place to start.” She listened for a moment to her phone, then sighed in exasperation. “I knew it! Damn it, Kendall!”

“What is it?” Irina asked, jumping to her feet.

“Kendall’s had him alone in his office. Thank god, Marshall beeped me."

"Thank god -- I thought you thought Jack would be okay?" Irina asked, putting her palms on the surface before her.

"Yes. I do. But he might also kill Kendall."

"And that would be a loss, how?" Irina asked.

"Well, true. But Jack might get into trouble for that--- Yes, Marshall, I agree no jury of his peers would convict Jack for killing Kendall... Yes, I’m on my way, Marshall.” She closed her phone and pointed toward a slightly-pale Irina. “You should come---”
“No.” Irina was firm, as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll wait here. I will have faith. And that’s the game plan. Remember? I have to wait here. I want it to be as similar as possible---”

“Hmm.” Judy opened the door. “Do you? Or is it just that you’re a cowardly bitch?” she asked as she sailed down the hallway at a fast clip. She wasn’t stupid, she told herself as she heard Irina walk into the hallway and increased her speed. That woman was dangerous, after all, she thought remembering her first encounter with her. She would never forget it. Not that it mattered. They had pictures. Judy smiled. Ha, Kendall, you stupid, stupid ass. We have pictures and we won’t hesitate to use them.

“You....Psychologist!” Irina called out. She slammed the door shut and began to pace. Clearly she should have never told Dr. Barnett that story. That psychologist was just as dangerous as Dave was, she decided, as she sat down abruptly and began to play with the puzzlebox once again. And as a woman, she might have been even more dangerous. What if... Irina shook her head, told herself to compartmentalize. She took out the infinity charm and focused on that problem for the moment. How had Cuvee gotten hold of this? What was the story? What if....

What if, Jack wondered, remembering that recorded conversation in Mexico City, Irina’s game plan was some...surprise? A somewhat messy surprise that had gone awry because she had trusted the wrong person, he thought, looking at Kendall. Wouldn’t be the first time. And everyone made mistakes. He was particularly annoyed with this one, but... Then again, Irina would pay for it. He smiled as he imagined how she might pay for it. Oh, and to agitate Kendall. Doubleplays were always good.

“You know, Kendall,” Jack said conversationally. “I like women. I really do. Their minds are interesting---”

“That’s not what you were writing about in that dissertation!”

“You seem to have a fixation on that topic. Perhaps you might make an appointment with Barnett to discuss your problem?” Jack took a small breath and continued, “One truth about women is that they are far more dangerous than men. More devious. More knowledgeable about weak points in an opponent. More... inclined to go for the jugular. Speaking of which...”

“What?” Kendall snapped out. He should just cut his losses, he supposed, but his mouth would not utter the necessary words. He rubbed his hand across his head.

Jack tilted his head to get a better look at that shaving nick on Kendall’s neck. Hmm. Unless Kendall had taken to shaving himself with an old-fashioned straight-edge... “What kind of razor do you use, Kendall?”

“Why?” Kendall blinked. Jack was throwing him off course.

Thud

The door to Kendall’s office was flung open.

“Does no one knock any more?” Kendall muttered, then groaned when he saw who had just flown in. The jig, she is up, he whispered to himself. And I am a dead man walking. Or sitting. It was a good thing he was sitting. He should have just stuck to the game plan.

“Sylvester Kendall, do I need to remind you that I had your promise that I’d be called the minute Jack entered the building?” Judy stalked over to the desk. Jack’s eyes widened. Damn, she was angry. She looked ready to slap someone as she said fiercely, “If Marshall hadn’t beeped me---”

“She knows your first name?” Jack asked automatically, as he tried to fit the pieces of this puzzle together. He started as Judy put a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Looking up, he saw annoyance in her face but no more and felt himself relax even more.
“Oh I know quite a bit about Sylvester here. After all,” Judy smirked. Jack stared. Judy was smirking? “When one sees a man in his smiley-face boxers, there’s not much secrecy left, is there?”

“Smiley-face boxers? Judy?” Jack asked, genuinely shocked for once in his life. “No...It can’t be. You and Kendall?” This was inexplicable. No, it was absolutely unacceptable. He decided to focus on this situation for a moment. Buy some time to analyze the set up. Give a friend - Judy - some obviously much-needed personal advice. A doubleplay. The night appeared to be full of them. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but surely you could do a lot better. In fact, I know you can. In fact, wouldn’t being alone be better than--”

“Excuse me!” Kendall exclaimed. “I’ll have you know---”

“No, I don’t want to know. Really. But I have to say- the two of you? I couldn’t be more surprised than if...” Jack looked from Judy to Kendall. “No...”

“Don’t worry, Jack. We are not a couple,”Judy told him, searching Jack’s eyes carefully. His eyes were not panicked. He seemed more...curious than anything else. Until he looked at Kendall. Then he looked... Kendall was probably wishing he was wearing Depends about now, Judy decided with a small smile of her own.

“Thank god!” Jack gestured toward the other chair. “Judy...Please. Do sit down. Perhaps you can explain what’s going on here?”

“I could, but...” Judy tilted her head. “Let me ask you what you think is going on? How have you analyzed the situation?”

“I think....” Jack gave Judy the pencil. She wanted him to figure this out on his own. He nodded. A test, of course. He had been correct about that. If Judy thought this was a test, then it must be... a test of courage. The kind she had spoken of earlier, when she had spoken of forging a new road. He sighed and nodded at the pencil in her hands. “I think this is yours. And that you were here in the last half hour or so.”

“Good deductive reasoning, but...” Judy wanted to ask him what his heart told him, but not in front of Kendall.

“And Kendall was just about to tell me what kind of razor he uses.”

“I was not!” Kendall raised his hand, then slapped it back down on the papers he guarded so carefully, avoiding groaning as Jack’s sharp gaze fastened on them.

“Why not tell me? Is it a state secret? I’m just wondering in case I decide to go for the cue ball look some day.”

“I use an electric razor on my face! Not that---”

“Ah. I see.” Jack nodded. He rubbed his hand across his own unshaven chin, the faint rasp loud in the silent room.

“What do you see, Jack?” Judy asked, smiling. This was good. Really, they should be taping this. Irina had made a mistake, deciding not to watch this. A master at work. Interrogation. Verbal torture. Whatever.

“I see a knife cut on Kendall’s neck. A thin slice. Similar to one made by a...” Jack raised his eyes to Kendall’s and smiled exceedingly slowly. “Let me guess. Stiletto?”

Kendall had blinked as he slowly woke up. What the hell.... He froze. As would anyone with half a brain when they realized that the very sharp point of a knife was pressed against their throat. “What...” he croaked out cautiously. Taking stock of his situation, he realized that his wrists were affixed to the bedposts.

A husky, lightly-accented voice said close to his ear, “It’s a sad day, indeed, when a man’s home proves to be an eminently-penetrable castle. Isn’t it, Assistant Director Sylvester Kendall?”

“Irina Derevko?” Kendall whispered. He decided against swallowing and instead concentrated on not peeing on himself. “What do you want?”

“I want to go home. And so, I have a deal for you. Or several in fact. Right now we’ll start with this one--”

“And what do I get out of this?” Kendall asked softly, barely breathing. That knife point was sharp and pressing harder every second.

“Your life. It’s worth nothing whatsoever to me, but perhaps you have a care for it?”

“A fair trade,” Kendall began to nod, then thought better of it and whispered, “What do you want?”

“A picture is worth a thousand words, is it not?” Derevko asked and sliding a tiny camera from her pocket took a picture of him cuffed to the bed. He did not move, his gaze transfixed by the stiletto between her teeth, the edge glinting in the filtered light that came from his bathroom.

“Let me guess,” Kendall snarled. “That stiletto-- An anniversary present from a loving husband to his delicate wife? Is it the twenty-eighth anniversary that calls for knives as a gift?”

“A knife? No.” Jack smiled. This was starting to sound like a very good story. “She prefers shards of glass. And I don’t need to impress women with artificial points and props, Kendall. But perhaps it might behoove you to make yours. Point that is, I don’t want to hear more about your accessory choices,” Jack said even as he began to wonder where the hell his wife was right now! Then again, she was probably wise to stay out of firing range until the shooting was over. And just what had she done to create this surprise?

“Sylvester.” Judy said it firmly, even as she laid a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I suggest you move it along. I think Derevko doesn’t want to be kept waiting---”

“She can wait,” Jack said, slicing his hand through the air. “I waited twenty years. She can wait a few minutes.”

“She said you’d say that,” Judy and Sylvester said in unison.

“Ugh,” Jack groaned. “You two are not...”

“No!” Judy shuddered.

Kendall forced himself to not shiver, to not shudder, to stay perfectly still. He was not a fearful man, but neither was he stupid. If Irina Derevko was holding a -- Kendall skewed his eyes downward without moving his head - a stiletto against one’s throat, it would be the height of stupidity to do anything she did not want. But what did she want? To go home? Yeah, right. “Derevko...”

“Yes. It is I.” Irina smiled. Formality seemed appropriate at this juncture. It often served the purpose of discomfiting the opponent. She had been told that at the Academy, had found it to be true, had even heard Dave and Jack discussing it one time when they were both still in school. Yes, formal speech could give one an advantage, especially when the opponent was in such a state of undress. Blech. Too much information even if he did have on smiley face boxers.

“What do you want?”

Irina sighed. Somehow that question was just not as exciting as when Jack posed it. And she had already told him, but people had trouble hearing truths that did not fit into their predetermined boxes. As she knew from far too much destructive personal experiences. Sighing, “I told you - I have a deal I’d like to present to you.”

“You can’t make a deal. When you escaped in Panama you forfeited---”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Irina interrupted, waving her free hand in a dismissive gesture. She wanted to try it out before she used it on Jack. She had a feeling he would laugh. It would be wonderful to see him laugh again. He used to laugh so much. Her Jack.

“That was a very...American gesture,” Kendall noted, stalling.

“I am American, am I not? Through virtue of my marriage to an American citizen? I suppose I have dual citizenship. I must have my attorney check into the matter for me.”

“You are not.... Jack got an annulment...” Kendall trailed off. “Damn it! I made an assumption--”

“And we all know about what happens when we assume, don’t we?” Irina smiled. She didn’t need to say, ‘you ass,’ because after all, wasn’t that more than clear?

“And... You are still his wife, aren’t you? Damn it. Damn him! He never said he got an annulment, because he never got that annulment.”

Jack smiled. “No. I didn’t.”

“Why?” Kendall asked. “Even before Panama, before you trusted her, why didn’t you annul the marriage?”

“It’s never wise to sever a connection prematurely,” Jack shrugged. “It was my just in case.”

“Just in case?” Judy asked softly.

“Just in case she didn’t prove trustworthy, being her husband gives me certain rights in certain godforesaken parts of this world in which international terrorists often find themselves. Obviously.”

“Oh,” Kendall said and blinked. He admitted warily as he saw the coldness lurking in Jack’s eyes, “I hadn’t thought of that...”

“That’s why I’m the game theorist around here and not you,” Jack noted blandly. “As I’ve said many times, there is no substitute for extensive preparation.”

“And yet,” Kendall crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “Here you are, not running this particular game.”

“But....” Jack smiled and leaned back, the picture of indolence even though his heart was beating so rapidly with anticipation that he had to force himself to breathe slowly. “Neither are you. Are you?”

TBC at Chapter 2004: Part 3 Section 2