The Perfect Weapon Chapter 2005: Part 3 Section 3 of 4
Chapter 2005: Part 3 Section 3 of 4
Vaughn stared at Weiss as he took another glance at the door. He seemed...anxious. Or...excited. Or, perhaps... Oh, who the hell knew. He wasn’t an English major.
Sydney noted his glance and frowned as she said softly, “The doorway. I remember this game we used to play..”
“Which was...” Vaughn prompted, wondering why Weiss had started this trip down memory lane.
“With whom?” Weiss asked, as he reached over to his desk and pulled out a pack of cards. “Your dad? Or the three of you?”
“The three of us. It was called, I guess you’d say, the ‘Me First’ game,” Sydney answered as Weiss began shuffling the deck, then dealing out cards.
“Why am I not surprised?” Kendall muttered under his breath as he picked up his hand. What lousy cards. Why am I not surprised? he thought to himself. It’s been that kind of day. What else could happen?
“Did you say something?” Sydney asked of Kendall.
“No. Do go on with your ‘Me First’ game, Sydney,” Kendall said with a slide of his lips that he hoped passed for a smile.
“Thank you, I will,” Sydney snapped at him.
“I bet you will,” Kendall added. I bet Jack and Irina are going to have tons of fun with you, breaking this pattern they had inadvertently begun so long ago.
“What game are we playing?” Vaughn asked, looking at his hand.
“Poker... for pencils,” Marshall called out, grabbing a handful of boxes from the stockpile that had appeared near Jack’s desk overnight.
“Well, to get back to the story,” Sydney said impatiently. “My parents had this little ritual when my dad came home..” Sydney stopped when Vaughn put his hand on her arm.
“Syd, wait. If this was something private between your parents, maybe your father wouldn’t like you telling everyone about it. Especially if it has to do with your mother.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He won’t care. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“I don’t know---” Vaughn shook his head. At least he could say he had tried.
“I do. Anyway, he’d come home and stand in the doorway and say ‘I’m home.’ And my mother and I would have this little race to see who could get to him first.”
“Let me guess,” Weiss interjected. “You always won. Somehow.”
Vaughn nodded to himself. Of course the story wasn’t really about Jack and Laura. It was about Jack and Sydney. Of course.
“Yeah.” Sydney sighed and looked down at her hands. “One time I heard, I think I remember this, I think... I heard her tell him that they had to stop doing that, that I had to lose sometimes, that I had to come in second on occasion. I used to think...”
“You used to think? Before what?” Weiss asked.
“Before I knew the truth about her, when I believed she was just Laura Bristow who loved us, I used to believe that she said that because she was jealous and wanted to be first with my father.”
“And later?” Vaughn asked. Sydney might not be so far off. He had never been able to shake his memory of that look of longing on Derevko’s face on their passage back from India as she’d reached out to touch Jack’s hair. But did it matter if she’d just left them again? What did feelings matter if you didn’t act on them properly, appropriately?
“Later, I... Lately, I think it was just a clever ploy on her part to make him think she wanted to be first.” Sydney shook her head. “I...wonder if my father’s memories are all...tainted like that?”
Everyone stared at Sydney.
Had she just had a thought that didn’t revolve around herself? Weiss wondered. Cautiously, he suggested, “They might be. Might have been. If I were Jack...I might decide to keep the good memories and try and forget about the others. Forgive and---”
“How the hell do you forgive what she’s done?” Vaughn asked, throwing down his cards in disgust. He had a hand full of cards but none worth playing. And he couldn’t concentrate anyway.
“And another option,” Kendall said quickly. “Is that your mother - whether she was being Laura or Irina - was just being a good parent and pointing out that spoiling a child like that is a bad idea and is something that should be nipped in the bud.”
Jack came to a quick stop at a red light. “Honey... Are you awake?”
“Yes.” Irina opened her eyes. “I was just thinking.”
“So was I. I was thinking about all the different ways to kill Sloane, but-“
“We have to torture him first,” Irina said, touching her necklace, but looking down at her purse.
“Absolutely. But...my mind kept circling back to-“ Jack looked down at her purse as well, then back up to Irina’s necklace.
Eagerly, Irina asked as Jack started the car forward at a green light, “Are you trying to figure out how Cuvee got that infinity charm?”
“I’m trying to figure out how that infinity charm apparently ended up with Cuvee before it was destroyed n the land mine explosion. Because there is no way he could have gotten it later and---”
“I know. Logically-“
“Intuitively- “ Jack interrupted her. They looked at each other and frowned.
“There’s something rotten in the state of Denmark,” they said together. “Hamlet.”
“If there’s something rotten, then it has Sloane’s fingerprints all over it,” Jack said softly.
“Let’s think about this some more. We’re almost there, anyway,” Irina said regretfully, pointing ahead.
“Something just smells...wrong,” Jack said as he made the last turn.
“Spoiling?” Sydney repeated, her face flushing. “My mother accused my father of that so many times...” She touched her temple.
"Sark does that," Weiss noted, nodding at Sydney's temple as she touched it.
"He does?" Sydney shrugged. "Project Christmas kids. I suppose we should form an alumni group and sit around and commiserate about our lost memories."
"You didn't lose your memories from the Project," Vaughn reminded her. "Jack has a lot to answer for, but that's not one of them."
"What is with you today?" Sydney griped. "You keep defending my father---"
"I'm just saying that there is more than meets the eye to any story ---" And please, please, Vaughn begged silently, don't let the 'more' be Jack and Irina working together. I'm not sure I'm ready for that test. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for that test.
"I know he said he didn't remove my memories, but we all know he could have and--"
"Could and did are two different words," Marshall said hesitantly. "I mean, I know you're the English teacher -to-be and you know that. The difference. But do you know that? When I’m debugging a program, my assumptions are only as good as my test results, you know."
"Sydney, Jack told you that he didn't do that. Or he at least told your mother that, right?" Vaughn asked her. "In India?"
"But still... How else do you explain this swiss cheese I have for my memories?" Sydney persisted.
"You don't think losing your mother, then having your father disappear for six months, then having him come back a very different man, then witnessing to some extent that father having a nervous breakdown was enough trauma to block access to your memories, Sydney?" Judy's cool voice asked from behind Sydney.
"I...I don't think you should talk about his....problem like that," Sydney said through tight lips.
"Really? I disagree. If he'd been wounded and been in the hospital recovering no one would shy away from discussing it," Judy argued, as she pulled out a seat at the table.
"That's different." Sydney looked on in surprise as Weiss greeted Dr. Barnett by her first name. Since when did Weiss see Dr. Barnett? Weiss began dealing Judy into the game without asking. Had they played poker before? And when? Why?
"No. It's not. And it's not healthy for anyone, including Jack, to act as if having an emotional wound is shameful. While I don't think it's appropriate, humane or moral," Judy said firmly with a look in Kendall's direction. "For any of us to rub his nose in it or bring it up unnecessarily, it's not healthy to ignore or hide it."
"I disagree." Sydney held her cards up in front of her.
"Really? Because you've learned that keeping secrets and ignoring problems is a particularly effective form of long-term relationship development?" Judy challenged.
"I...I think you should talk to my father about that!" Sydney griped, slapping her cards onto the table.
"I have. I think that Jack has learned that while occasionally secrecy may be necessary, it should be necessary for no longer than..."
"Necessary?" Kendall filled in.
"Thanks, Sylvester. I'm tired."
"Me too," Marshall noted. "Anyone for coffee?"
Weiss, Judy, and Kendall all held up their hands. Marshall walked away, only to nearly topple into Carrie. "Oh. Hi.” He straightened his tie, then realized it was already tight enough and began to cough. He nearly choked when Carrie reached up and loosened it for him.
"What are we playing for?" Carrie asked, as she sat down at the table as well, wondering just what kind of day at the CIA began with playing a card game.
"Pencils," Weiss told her. "Jack keeps them by the case down here, so we've got tons."
"And why are we playing poker when we should be working?"
"Break," Kendall said shortly. "We're all entitled to a break. It's been a long night and I've got a feeling it's going to be a longer day."
"No shit," Weiss muttered, looking at his watch. "So... Syd. Who taught you how to play poker?"
"What? Oh. My father." Sydney looked down. "He...sat me on his lap and we played against Mom. And his friend Dave." Sydney smiled. "They all knew each other so well, they could point out strengths and weaknesses. Teased each other." She broke off speaking abruptly.
"What is it?" Judy asked.
"I think Arvin and Emily might have also been there. That would make sense. Five hands."
"Yes, it would," Kendall agreed, as they all took turns looking at the clock.
"So do you remember anything specific?" Judy asked. "Or just flashes here and there?"
"I do remember sitting on his lap. I remember the cards. I...think I remember... No. I must be wrong." Sydney shook her head. "I must be. I remember him pointing out that my mother was not a good bluffer. But that's wrong, she must have been. She spent ten years bluffing. So she must have pretended to screw up to make my father..." She shook her head again. "That doesn't work either. My father is not the kind of man who would want a woman to throw a game because he needs his ego stroked."
"No. He's not," Judy agreed. "Frankly, he's too competitive to need that or want it."
"And Irina's too competitive to throw a game, in my opinion," Weiss noted. "Unless it was for truly high stakes. Which a friendly kitchen poker game, is not."
"No, I suppose not. I suppose I'll never know what game they were really playing..." Sydney trailed off, remembering that if her mother had trouble bluffing her father, her father would also get distracted by...What had it been?
"You could ask your father," Judy suggested her eyes flickering upward to a point over Sydney's head.
"Or you could ask me directly," Irina's voice said from behind Sydney.
Sydney dropped her hand of cards. They fluttered slowly onto the table. “Mom?” she whispered and turned around. “Mom! I mean, I mean -- Derevko?”
“No. You mean, ‘Mom’,” Jack said softly and with deep happiness as the look of shock on his daughter’s face slowly turned to joy as her mother’s presence began to sink in.
“How, why?” Sydney grasped the arms of her chair, afraid she could not stand because her knees were shaking so hard. “Wait, are you in custody again? Did Dad bring you in? Where are your cuffs and Dad, I thought you were going to talk to me today. Was it to tell me about this?’
“Yes, that was my intention - to tell you about it when you came home, but then something...” Jack paused and smiled at his wife.
“I didn’t really know Mr. Bristow could smile,” Carrie whispered to Marshall.
“Oh, he can smile. We saw him earlier this morning,” Marshall whispered back.
Jack continued, smiling once again at the happiness on his wife’s face this time. “Something happened, someone walked back in unexpectedly and my plans became a little messy. So---”
Sydney shook her head trying to clear it. She gripped her knees afraid if she stood up, she’d fall down. “But...no. No. How long---”
“You two have been working together since Panama, haven’t you?” Vaughn asked resignedly. He stood up and took a step away from the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s how you had that intel, that’s how you knew about...everything. That’s why you couldn’t bring her in, because she already was in.”
“Yes,” Irina and Jack said together. Sydney stared up at her mother and said nothing. Then her gaze shifted to her father and her lips firmed into a straight line. She warred with the need to hug her mother and slap at her father, someway, somehow.
Dixon stopped next to Jack and held out his hand. “Congratulations on having your wife back. I can only imagine what you feel.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” Jack said softly as he shook Dixon’s hand.. “I only wish your wife could come back as well.” Dixon nodded. Jack whispered to Dixon. “Here we go. Irina will get a hug and I’ll get yelled at.”
“I wouldn’t bet against that scenario,” Dixon agreed.
“So...” Sydney stood up slowly and faced her mother. “You’re free.... You’re with..us again? For real? You didn’t betray us in Panama? Honestly?”
“Yes, umph!” Irina groaned as Sydney threw herself at her mother. Irina closed her eyes and savored the moment. Her daughter in her arms again. She closed her eyes and then opened them with a snap as she felt Jack’s hand on her back. He wanted to be part of this embrace, she knew as surely as they both knew Sydney was going to start accusing him any moment.
“Are you happy to see me, Sydney?” Irina asked as she pulled back. She felt Jack’s hand drop and turning slightly, grabbed it and held on tightly. With her other hand, she cupped her daughter’s cheek and smiled.
“You know I am!” Sydney smiled so broadly, Jack smiled as well, even though he knew in a moment that smile would fade as she blamed him for keeping it all a secret. “This is a wish come true!”
“Then thank your father,” Irina said crisply, giving her daughter a little pat on the cheek before stepping back. “Because I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me? Why--”
“Sydney.” Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry if this is a shock and if your feelings are hurt, but I had to make a judgment call and---”
“As usual, you decided I couldn’t be trusted--”
“No. As usual I was trying to protect you. In case, Irina couldn’t be trusted.”
“But that’s, that’s...ridiculous! If she said she’d work with us, if she told you the truth and she must have, then surely---”
“Sydney,” Vaughn interrupted her. “Why the hell would Jack automatically trust her? I don’t trust her right now, even though I bet you have a full pardon, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Irina spoke up softly. “And I’m sorry to tell you this, Agent Vaughn, but I’ll be working with the team, at least until we obtain Arvin Sloane.”
“I don’t believe this!” Vaughn ground out and whirled around to leave. Weiss caught him by the arm and spoke to him quietly, while another argument began to rage.
“But...Mom. In Italy, I shot you and... Oh my god, Dad, I shot her---”
Jack shrugged. “She shot you before. Call it even.”
Irina looked at Jack and began to chuckle. “Your dry sense of humor is---”
“That was a joke?” Sydney nearly shrieked. “I shot YOU!”
Irina touched her arm. “Well, I did shoot you after all, for which I apologize by the way---”
“See, that wasn’t so difficult,” Jack noted.
“Shut up,” Irina told him and continued, with a nod at Sydney. “And your father has this mania for equity, so...” Irina shrugged. “And he knew you wouldn’t shoot to kill or even severely wound so it was a safe bet---”
“A safe bet! You were playing odds on your wife’s life?” Sydney said, her face tightening with anger. “You would take that kind of chance with your wife? With someone you profess to love? Or is this just another game of yours---”
“First of all, you hardly know the whole story. “ Jack’s face tightened too as he spoke, so tired of being accused without being given a chance for an explanation. “Secondly, we play the odds every day, Sydney, in case it’s escaped your notice. And if you’d let me---”
“But...what if I’d... been able to shoot her?”
“I knew you wouldn’t. I know you, Sydney.”
“Well, I don’t know you.” Sydney crossed her arms.
“Yes.” Jack crossed his arms. Irina groaned silently. The two of them. “You don’t know me. You’ve made that abundantly clear with your baseless accusations.”
Vaughn whistled silently and looked over at Weiss.
“Baseless!” Sydney protested. “They’re hardly baseless. You play games with everyone. You manipulate and deceive and for all I know you brainwashed me into becoming an agent and--”
“Sydney, if I were going to brainwash you, I assure you that I would have implanted a strong suggestion that you treat me with a modicum of respect and caring to say nothing of maturity, instead of the immature, spoiled rantings of a disappointed child.” Jack stopped for a second and looked over at Judy. She nodded encouragingly at him.
“Well, he does have a point,” Marshall said to Kendall.
“Yup, sure does,” Kendall agreed.
Jack frowned. “I intended, as I’ve already stated, to tell you the truth when you came home. I knew it was your mother in your apartment the other night because she called me to tell me and to ascertain your condition and that of Tippin. I made that decision to tell you --”
“With which I agreed,” Irina stated firmly. “As I agreed, or perhaps I was even the one to suggest keeping quiet in Panama originally. I don’t remember whose idea it was and surely it doesn’t matter---”
“I bet it was Dad’s,” Sydney said sullenly. “I bet---”
“I bet it would be a wise idea to listen instead of speaking now, young lady,” Irina spat out at her. “Your father intended to tell you the truth because he couldn’t stand misleading you anymore. But I...what is the phrase? Something about apples?”
“You upset his applecart,” Kendall supplied. “I’ve already heard that analogy today. About 3am, I think.”
“Three am?” Dixon asked. “What’s been going on?”
“Wait,” Vaughn said, holding up one hand. He wanted to know and Sydney needed a moment to calm down before she said something she might regret. “You, some of you - have you been working with Derevko too?”
“Just since the other morning,” Marshall replied. “We all - me, Eric, and Judy - had to go over to Kendall’s to meet up with Irina, Ms. Derevko, Mrs. Bristow, whatever---”
Irina smiled at Marshall. He was cute. Why couldn’t Sydney fall in love with a biddable young man like this? No, it had to be Bill Vaughn’s boy. “Well, I think it’s going to be Mrs. Bristow, but you can call me---”
“Wait. You called my mother, ‘Irina’ before, Eric!” Sydney exclaimed. “You knew, you knew too and didn’t tell me? Didn’t tell Vaughn when he called earlier today?”
“No. It wasn’t part of the game plan and I thought, we all thought, that this was a situation that was best explained in person.” Eric sighed. “I’m not sure if I want to be here to witness this, but...” He shrugged. “Here we all are.”
“Hold on. You all had to go to Kendall’s? Why Kendall’s?” Dixon asked.
“I wanted to surprise Jack with my own game plan. He’d already done so much to bring me home, I wanted to give him a gift. And why did we end up at Kendall’s? For an illuminating display of his accessories,” Irina said with a smile. “I know I may never forget the sight of---”
Kendall pointed his finger at Irina. “You know, Irina, that I may never forgive---”
“Oh be quiet, Sylvester. That’s the most excitement your bedroom’s no doubt ever seen,” Judy said with impatience.
“And we have the pictures to prove it!” Marshall called out.
“Pictures?” Sydney, Vaughn, Dixon and Carrie all asked.
“Can we move on?” Kendall asked desperately, tugging on the knot of his tie. “Don’t you have to go interrogate Sark or something, Jack?”
“Yes, I do,” Jack said quietly. He took a deep breath, trying to tamp down his anger at his daughter. Once again she was not listening, was not questioning her assumptions. He was so tired of this pattern. So...angry. Yes, he was angry with his daughter. He didn’t want to be, he didn’t feel comfortable being angry with her. But time was wasting. “I need to move this day - which is not going according to my plans at all - along. I need to go see Sark about Arvin’s ace in the hole, whatever the hell that might be, before the kid’s head explodes. A feeling with which I have some experience. Therefore, Sydney, let me be succinct,” Jack snapped out. “I confronted your mother in Panama---”
“He called me a cowardly bitch.” Irina chuckled and smiled fondly at her husband. Everyone stared in shock as Jack seemed to relax at her smile and laughing words. Good, Irina thought. Jack needed to relax or later he'd regret losing his temper with his daughter in public. The full story, the full conversation between the three of them was something best saved for a more private moment.
“You called me a lying bastard.” Jack smiled in return.
“We played Human Battleship---” Irina put her hand on Jack’s arm.
“We had a ... truthful conversation about our past---”
“I lost Human Battleship.” Irina rolled her eyes. “But I won something much more important.”
“I hope,” Jack said softly. Then clearing his throat, he continued, “She admitted what she was planning to do in regards to betraying us to work on Rambadli with Sloane.”
“Rambaldi, Jack.” Irina shook her head. “He called it a stupid snipe hunt.”
“She realized that it was in everyone’s best interest if she decided to work on her issues of... obsessiveness and consider the notion of working for the good guys instead of the bad guys.”
“Really, I wanted to come home.” Irina reached out and touched Sydney’s cheek. “I needed to be with my family. Who needed me as well. It was time to close that circle. And luckily, your father - and your Uncle Dave - were there to push, pull, drag, to do whatever it took to get me to the point.”
“You made the choice, Irina,” Jack said softly. “You did.”
“But I couldn’t have if you hadn't---”
“Well, the mutual admiration society is just lovely, Mom and Dad. But why didn’t you tell me, Dad?” Sydney exclaimed. “Why? Why let me believe that she had betrayed us? Didn’t you know how much that hurt? Or didn’t you care? I bet you thought it was acceptable collateral damage, didn’t you? My broken heart meant nothing---”
“That is enough!” Irina snapped out, slamming her hand on the table.
“But---” Sydney took a step backwards and landed back in her chair.
“Be quiet until you are spoken to, young lady,” Irina ordered, leaning in to face Sydney. When Sydney reluctantly nodded, Irina motioned to Jack. “Talk to your daughter.”
“My daughter?”
“My daughter is not the spoiled brat I see before me, so she must be yours.”
“Now, wait a minute---” Jack held up his hand. “She got her stubbornness and self-absorption from---”
“You always spoiled her rotten, Jack and this is the result! The girl is almost thirty years old and she has the emotional development of a--”
“Six year old? Then you should be able to relate to her quite well!”
“I remember this!” Sydney exclaimed. “You two used to argue like this. You’d have these stupid little fights and then you’d make up by---
“Um, guys...” Weiss cleared his throat. “As...fascinating as this is and I think I speak for all of us when I say that it is absolutely...something, I think I need to remind you that Sark needs an interrogation. Sometime today?”
“Well, I just want to say,” Sydney said firmly. “That Dad didn’t spoil me. He ignored me after you left, Mom, which is why---”
“He’s apologized for that. I heard him. I know he did it more than once. I also heard him tell you how hard he was trying,” Irina stopped to take a calming breath. She wanted to... She didn’t know what. But Sydney was trying her patience. Was she too old to get sent to her room?”
“Does an apology compensate for years of---”
“It’s a better start than I was willing to make for not contacting him or you for twenty years!” Irina pointed out. “So don’t hold your father up to some different standard---”
“But it’s different---”
“Yes, because you always were a daddy’s little girl and---”
“Not for the last twenty---”
“Sydney.” Jack’s quiet voice made Sydney fall silent. “Sit down and listen to me. For once---”
“But---”
Jack slapped his hands on the arms of Sydney’s chair and leaned in. “I would like you to endeavor to rise to this challenge. One you have heretofore seemed incapable of meeting. Which is to allow me to speak for five to ten minutes, uninterrupted, without accusations or assumptions. Just listen while I speak. Do you believe you can achieve the rarified heights of a daughter listening to her father with an open mind for that time period? Or should you take a time out? We have plenty of cells for you to sit in and reflect upon achievable goals.”
Dixon covered his mouth. Kendall looked down. Marshall looked away. Weiss looked up. Vaughn stared at Jack. Judy smiled. Irina looked proud. Sydney looked shocked.
“Well, can you? Yes or no. One word answer, please.”
“Yes.”
“Let me paint the scene for you. I was in a no-win situation with you when your mother finally... came to her senses and decided to come back to us. But that decision was just a first step and her history, her patterns were not good ones. So as much as I wanted to have faith and did have faith, the odds were against the realization of my and your desires. I faced an impossible choice. I could tell you the truth and risk you being hurt. Again. Or I could mislead you and protect you unnecessarily. Either way, I couldn’t win.”
Irina spoke up softly when Jack stopped and stood up. “And given that this is Jack Bristow, the father who always protected you and.... Laura, he chose what he always chose and no doubt always will choose to do. He chose to err on the side of protecting you.”
“Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to tell you the truth and have that truth become the reality. But what if it didn’t? Then you’d be hurt, far worse, in my estimation. Your hopes would have been built up that much higher because they would have been hopes that your mother was truly returning. Your mother, who loved and cared for you---”
“And you, Jack. I love and care for you too,” Irina interrupted. She smiled to herself when she saw a faint hint of redness in her husband’s cheeks. But it was best to make her loyalties clear. Including to their daughter, she decided, and took a step closer to Jack and put a soothing hand on his back.
“I thought we were talking about me,” Sydney interrupted. She stopped when she heard what sounded like everyone groan. She looked around. Even Carrie was rolling her eyes. Dr. Barnett looked...displeased. Uh-oh. She could see a stormy session ahead. “I mean, Dad, that you don’t have to protect me like that. I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one,” Irina told her firmly. “If you don’t want to be treated like a child, then start behaving like an adult.”
“But I---”
Irina pulled the box out of her purse and slapped it on the table in lieu of slapping her daughter. Flipping open the lid, she snatched the sapphire ring out of box and held it up to the light. “You know, I thought that perhaps I’d felt the need to bring this box along to give you this ring. But now... I don’t think you deserve it. Because, honestly, Sydney, you must be making your father regret giving me this ring to thank me for giving him a daughter and---”
“I don’t remember that ring,” Sydney noted.
“Wow!” Carrie whistled. “What a rock!”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Irina asked, deciding from the pained look on Jack’s face as he looked at the ring and the box it came in that he must hate these kind of emotional outbursts at work. Positively hate it. She’d have to make it up to him later. Right now, a distraction might be in order so that he’d find it easier to concentrate when he went to interrogate Sark.
“It’s too big,” Sydney shook her head.
“There is no such thing as a gem that’s too big,” Carrie laughed. “Kinda like...” She bit her words off and looked upwards.
“Size isn’t important,” Kendall commented with a deadpan expression. “Right, ladies?”
“I’m sure that’s a comforting thought to you, Sylvester,” Judy responded. “But, no woman in her right mind would turn down a... gemstone of that size. Right, Irina?”
“No one’s ever called me stupid,” Irina nodded. “Just self-delusional.” Irina slipped the ring on the ring finger of her right hand. “Jack gave this to me, Sydney, after you were born to thank me for giving him a daughter. I very seldom wore it because... The truth is, I felt guilty. It was a visible symbol of my guilt, one of the few times I allowed myself to feel guilt. I’d look at the blue sapphire, which Jack saw as the blue of your eyes as a baby, and I saw that. But I also thought it looked like...tears.” She stared at the ring on her finger. “I suppose...”
“You could look upon it as tears of happiness now,” Jack suggested softly, touching his wife on the shoulder. “If you want....”
“Oh, I want...” Irina said softly, her eyes on her husband’s face. His face had shown so much emotion today. Her Jack. But no doubt everyone around them was shocked... Yes, she saw that as she looked around and then forgot all about them as he reached down and took her hand, rubbed the sapphire ring back and forth. She smiled up at him, remembering him doing that with her engagement ring while holding hands at the movies so many times. A little habit of his she had almost forgotten completely about until she saw his hand on her ring again.
“I could make this into a...replacement ring for you,” Jack suggested quietly. It wasn’t what he had been imagining, but if that’s what she wanted, she would have it. “Add some diamonds or widen the band---”
“Like a wedding ring?” Carrie whispered. Weiss shrugged. Who cared about damn jewelry? Jack needed to get to Sark.
Sydney stared at the ring on her mother’s hand, her father’s hand still touching it. A good match, those hands, as she had remembered earlier today. “I still can’t believe Sloane cut off Emily’s finger with her wedding ring.”
“Oh, he didn’t do it himself, Sydney,” Jack said with a twist to his mouth. “That kind of dirty work is always better left to someone else. He probably wasn’t even there to comfort her when it happened. He wouldn’t want to face the pain his own decisions had caused the person he professed to love the most.”
“That is a twisted kind of love,” Weiss said. “But we really should---”
“It is twisted. You twist everything to mold it to your own selfish desires,”Irina said slowly, watching Sydney take the small box from the table and look inside it. Following her instincts, Irina reached into the box and took out the ruby ring and held it in her hand, staring at it. “You always liked this one, Sydney---”
Sydney exclaimed, “I remember this! This is Uncle Dave’s ring! I remember.”
"Yes. Still ugly after all these years, but..." Jack smiled sadly as he looked at the large red stone in the center of the ring. As the light overhead glinted on it, the red reflected in the palm of Irina's hand. Seeing that, Irina closed her fist over it.
"It's all you have left of him, Dad?" Sydney asked, reaching out to pry it from her mother's hand. Gently taking it from her stiff fingers, Sydney held it up to the light. "I remember this! I loved the stone. The red of that ruby was beautiful to me. It always seemed... Like Valentine's Day or Christmas.. or.. The red seemed to glow, like it was alive..." She trailed off as she realized that no one was listening. Her mother was staring at that ring as if it was the portent of...disaster? Was that the look on her face? Her father was staring at her mother. No one was looking at her. Sydney asked her father, “How did you get it, Dad? Dave’s ring?”
Jack's gaze narrowed on to the ring and used it to focus and push his memories away into a manageable box deep within. “I...retrieved it when I identified Dave’s body. It was one way I identified him. When I brought what remained of him home, his parents then insisted I keep it.”
“What?” Irina asked sharply as she heard a click in her mind and a new thought rushed in through a newly-opened door. “You didn’t say that before -- that the ring was on his body. SOP, Jack." She stopped and put her hand on his arm. "This changes everything.”
“What’s going on?” Judy asked softly, recognizing the look on Jack’s face. He was working on something, allowing his thoughts to swirl around and at some point, he’d snatch the relevant, the critical point. And Irina’s face was, actually, hers was also alive with speculation. She leaned forward, realizing that they were about to witness two master gamesplayers analyze the hell out of something. “What has changed?”
“Everything,” Irina repeated. She thought rapidly, trying to analyze the problem, decide upon a strategy to appeal to the way Jack’s brain worked. Not his feelings, not yet. Jack’s logic was razor sharp although in the past he had more often relied on intuition and leaps of logic. But he had learned through negative reinforcement not to trust his intuition, his little voice. Had learned to fear it, even though he had begun to rely on it once again. But right now, he would balk at an appeal to his feelings immediately. Too dangerous, too volatile. So it was best to stick to logic, gamesmanship. Yes, that tactic would not raise his anxiety and his self-protective walls. Damn it, though, her instincts were screaming at her. Control, control.
Jack stared at the ring, remembering the difficulty of removing it from the swollen finger. He swallowed hard and looked away. “What do you mean, this changes everything, Irina?” he asked, although the little voice inside was telling him he --- Then Irina spoke up.
“What’s more useful, a dead hostage or a live hostage?” Irina asked abruptly, knowing the moment that she spoke, that she was on the right track, on the right path. Again. Because they were working together.
“Live,” everyone answered.
“Irina, we hardly have time for a lesson from your curriculum plan at Derevko Day Care,” Jack quipped, trying for lightness as he felt something dark begin to circle around him, trying to find an entry point. “Speaking of which, tell me everything you know about when Sark came to you---”
“One of the rules of the game is that a dead hostage is worth nothing.” Irina stared at the ruby ring. “Too much blood gets you...nothing. Just enough blood, just enough fear gets you...everything. You know that, of course. You’ve played that hand, Jack, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have. A live hostage is worth his or her weight in gold. Or intel. Or power over another, the most useful bargaining chip of all. Power. But a dead hostage is more trouble than they are worth. Which is why one sometimes pretends a hostage is alive when they are dead...” Jack stopped and looked at her. “But if this were a mirror play...”
“Then one might pretend a hostage is dead when they are alive. If it’s more valuable to show your hand late in the game.”
“I didn’t have a hand,” Jack said tightly, gathering up the cards on the table and tapping them into a neat rectangle until Irina put her hand on his and stopped his nervous movements.
“Where was the ring, Jack?” Irina asked through stiff lips.
“His finger,” Jack said with tight lips. Then his face paled as a thought slammed into his head with the same force as the realization of Dave’s death. No. It was just wishful thinking. But it wasn’t thinking. It was feeling and... his little voice telling him to, Feel the truth.
“SOP, Jack,” Irina said tautly. Then she poked her daughter, “Sydney, stand up and let your father have a seat.” Irina took the one next to it that Vaughn had vacated and pulled her husband down.
“SOP,” Jack repeated as Irina closed her fist over the ring. He could tell how tightly she was squeezing it by the whiteness of her knuckles. Focus.
“What does that mean?” Marshall asked. “I mean, I know what SOP means, but what does it mean here?”
“One Standard Operating Procedure when you wish to prove the identity of a hostage is to cut off the finger with a ring and send it, intact. As Sloane did with Emily,” Sydney told him, staring at her parents who were silently staring at each other. There was something passing between them, silently. Some...energy.
“Yes. It was a good strategy - if you’re a coldblooded bastard,” Jack said slowly.
“Because the strategy is still a common tactic in terrorist circles?” Irina asked carefully. Did Jack suspect what she was beginning to believe with a mix of horror and hope?
“You’d know,” Jack said absently.
Irina opened her mouth to snap at him and then closed it. His face was intent. He had that look he wore when there was something swirling around his brain and he was letting his thoughts have free rein.
“Mom...What’s going on?” Sydney whispered, leaning down toward her mother. “Why does he have that look on his face?”
TBC at Chapter 2005: Part 3 section 4 of 4