The Perfect Weapon Chapter 2006: Part 1 Section 2 of 2
Chapter 2006: Part 1 section 2 of 2
“Subject identification...” Jack sighed and looked at his wife. “Complete.”
Irina nodded back. She thought fleetingly that movement was all she was capable of doing; the rest of her body to say nothing of her mind was still in shock.
“I must deliver a message---” Sark began once again.
Sydney got up slowly and looked at her parents. “What’s going on?”
“Justin Case. There’s your proof, honey,” Jack said carefully. “There is only one other person in the world--“
Irina covered her mouth and sank back down into the chair. Jack held out his hand and she snatched it. “Dave. All those years... The dots on the paper that he used to make when he was frustrated or angry or just thoughtful. The dots on Sark's papers.... Connect the dots. Dave was my silent partner in Project Christmas.” What had they done to Dave to get him to agree to that? Irina wondered, feeling a spasm of guilt clench her stomach into knots.
"Yes. And this....monkey was his just in case," Jack answered softly as he stared at Sark.
Sark spoke up. “I must deliver a message---”
"His alias was just in case?" Sydney interrupted. "What the hell, why is that important--"
"Dave. He...said once before you were born," Jack told her, closing his eyes briefly. "That if you were a boy we should name the baby Justin Case Bristow--”
“Is he my brother?” Sydney asked. She didn’t shriek, no she did not, she told herself.
“No!” Jack and Irina said in unison, both blinking as Sydney’s voice bounced around the cell.
Irina explained, “Dave said that, about using that name as a joke, because your father was always prattling--"
"I don't prattle," Jack said, enunciating clearly. "I was merely attempting to elucidate my belief---"
"Jack." Irina interrupted him, feeling the anxiety he was hiding. "Just finish interrogating Sark. You two apparently speak the same language when you're--"
"And that seems too great a coincidence, don't you think?" Kendall noted, rubbing his chin. "I still think Sark is Jack's kid and Derevko is afraid to tell him."
"Nah," Weiss shook his head. "Don't see it."
"It might not be a coincidence," Judy agreed. "But it might not be genetic either."
"I agree," Susan nodded. "It could be a matter of training. It's like with dogs. You start out with the basic temperament of a breed with individual variations, but then how you train and care for a dog determines how they will mature."
"You like dogs?" Weiss asked eagerly.
Vaughn rolled his eyes. "Here we go..." he muttered.
"Why yes, I do," Susan answered. "Do you?"
Judy rolled her eyes. "Here we go..." she muttered.
"I think..." Susan glared at Judy. "That dogs can teach us so much about human interaction."
"So do I!" Weiss added. "I mean, if only humans were as easy to understand--"
"Some are, particularly -- Ow!" Susan glared at Judy, who returned her look innocently.
"Oh, sorry. Did I step on your foot?" Judy blinked. Then leaning in, she whispered in Susan's ear, "Do not equate men with dogs. It's not a good way to make a first impression."
"Oh." Susan nodded and blew a stream of air up, whiffling her bangs. "I forgot. Fragile egos."
"What are you doing tonight?" Weiss began. "We could walk our dogs together---"
"I hate to interrupt this doggie love connection," Kendall interrupted. "But in case it's escaped your notice, there is something much more interesting than puppy-dog eyes going on in the glass cell."
"And somehow, I think we're all going to be busy tonight anyway," Dixon noted.
"If no one else objects,” Jack said with extreme patience. “I’d like to return to the task at hand? Good--”
“I must deliver a message!” Sark exclaimed, feeling his face flush and perspiration break out on his forehead.
“Proceed,” Jack said quietly. He braced himself for...he knew not what.
Sark took a deep breath and wiped his hand over his face before raising his head and beginning to recite in a flat monotone. “Jack, this is Dave. If you are hearing this message it means either that you’ve somehow encountered my just in case or that Irina, Laura, whatever the hell she is, has either been captured or overcome her stupid stubborn pride and sought you out again and has brought my just in case to you. In any case, you need to know, most importantly, that Arvin set us all up. Irina tried to contact you and Arvin intercepted the message.
“The short version, is that I fell for his argument that we needed to ascertain the veracity of the intel and he doublecrossed me. Do not trust him. Do not. I am somewhere, I don’t even know where, in some gulag in the Soviet Union. Or I think it’s the Soviet Union. In any case, get to Arvin and get the information out of him - preferably killing him in the process - and come and get me. I don’t care what you have to do, who you have to kill.
“Just get me and bring me home. And if Irina is with you voluntarily, tell her that we have some issues to discuss. And tell Sydney that I miss my little princess. And that I’d love to take her to Cone Castle for a chocolate ice cream. Man, I miss chocolate. And ice cream and...You. Jack, I’ve missed you too. Goodbye.” Sark fell back against the chair.
Silence fell inside the glass cell and in the rotunda until Sydney sniffed. Jack reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to his daughter. Irina and Jack stared at each other.
“That’s almost as freaky as the Rambaldi stuff,” Marshall commented.
“My god, Sark’s had that message stored in him for more than a decade!” Vaughn realized.
“There aren’t any more Cone Castles,” Judy said softly. “It’s been so long. He probably never expected to be lost for so long. When Dave returns... I need to find him a specialist for POW issues.”
Susan nodded. “And buy him a box of the best chocolates you know of.”
“I know this ice cream shoppe...” Judy began, then shook her head. Dave was going to be so dislocated when he returned. If he returned. No, when. Think positively. Have faith.
“It was like pressing a button on a tape recorder,” Kendall said thoughtfully.
“Yeah. Like one of those wills-on-video,” Marshall suggested. “You know, when the person tapes themselves reading their will or a message for after their death... I think it’s creepy.”
“It’s very creepy,” Carrie agreed, staring at Sark’s waxen face. Jack and Irina’s weren’t much better, she realized, as she looked at their pale skin and dark eyes.
“A message from the... undead usually is,” Weiss noted.
Once inside their tent, Yasmina and her daughters looked at each other in alarm. They quickly worked at unwrapping Daoud from the shrouds of her second-best burka. Her eldest put her palm on Daoud’s forehead and frowned at her mother. Yasmina nodded and another daughter darted away for cool water from the well. She looked at her children. “We will take shifts. This will be a long day.”
Jack looked at his watch. It wasn’t even mid-morning yet and he’d had his wife waltz back in, punched Kendall in the nose, made love with his wife in the glass cell, moved her in bag and baggage, unlocked a chest of hope he hadn’t even known he possessed, realized that Dave had died on a mission to find his wife, then realized that Dave wasn’t dead, yelled in a most unseemly fashion at his daughter who - being her mother’s child - would no doubt make him pay for it, engaged in a protocol for the first time in decades and now heard a message from beyond the grave. And he hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. Right on schedule his stomach rumbled, sounding very loud in the silence. They looked at each other and began to laugh, breaking the tension.
Sydney offered, “I have a PowerBar in my purse, Dad.”
“Why not some toast? You always liked toast--” Irina suggested. “And it’s good for your stomach.”
“Dad doesn’t like toast!” Sydney corrected her mother.
“Of course he does. Maybe you just haven’t made it the right way--”
“Ahem!” Jack stared from his wife to his daughter, noting that Sark did the same. “My god, Dave was right about you two. And perhaps you’ve forgotten but, we are here to find Dave.”
“I’d...appreciate continuing...” Sark said quietly. “This is... I feel as though I must provide the information or I’ll become...ill.”
“Great. Sark vomit. Talk about cooties,” Sydney muttered to herself.
“Resume protocol questioning." Jack took a deep breath and asked what he thought was one of the most important questions in his life, one he had delayed asking for fear of a negative answer. "Sark, to your knowledge, your current knowledge, is David Caro alive?"
"Yes.”
Without allowing himself to look at his wife, Jack pressed his lips together before continuing. “How do you know this? Visual identification?”
“Yes. He was alive the last time I saw him."
"You saw him?" Jack asked, leaning forward as Irina clenched her fist and stared at him intently.
Sark backed away slightly, his back against the chair. A part of him wished he could refuse to answer until he received some concession since the Bristows were clearly quite interested in his knowledge, but the damn protocol made it impossible to resist. "Yes," he grudgingly answered.
"When was that?"
Sark gave them the date.
"Jack, that's not that that long ago!" Irina exclaimed. "Dave is probably still there -- Sloane wouldn't take the chance of moving him too often because every time he'd be moved, more people would be involved and that would increase your chances---"
"Does Jack Bristow really need a lecture on probabilities and game theory?" Sark asked.
Irina grimaced at him. "Do you truly have any idea how many times I've wanted to smack you?'
"I do," Sydney spoke up. "Every other minute would be my guess."
Sark glared at Jack. “Your daughter...”
“Is the light of my life, so watch your mouth, you little monkey,” Jack growled.
Sydney put her hand over her heart. Her father had said something sweet and threatened Sark. She wanted to get a copy of the tape of this interrogation to save it. This day was definitely looking up.
“Well, that will probably go a long way to restoring Jack in Sydney’s good graces,” Weiss suggested.
“Restoring?” Kendall asked. “When has Jack ever been in Sydney’s good graces?”
Vaughn shrugged. “Good point. Not in the last twenty years. But in that family, threatening someone else with bodily harm on your behalf probably means more than a big box of chocolates or---”
“I’d disagree with that,” Judy noted.
“You and your chocolate fixation!” Susan rolled her eyes.
Carrie smiled and pointed at the screen, at Sydney’s stunned face. “I think it was probably the comment that she’s the light of his life that caused that look.”
“Of more concern to me,” Judy said softly. “Is the look on Jack’s face.”
“Daoud does not look well,” Yasmina’s daughter whispered. “When he opens his eyes, he does not see us.”
“No,” Yasmina whispered back. “And he is starting to thrash around. I hesitate to tie him down, but...”
"Do you know the exact location?" Jack asked, forcing himself to tune everything out, especially the fear that sat like a hard ball in his gut.
"Yes. Agent David Caro, Agent number 2512152254, is to the best of my knowledge currently located at the following coordinates. Are you prepared for the transmission of the ---”
“Just say it!” Jack growled.
“Jack Bristow has a quick temper,” Sark said in the sing-song voice again. Jack rolled his eyes.
“He does?” Carrie asked. “I’ve never seen it. But then before this morning I don’t think I’ve ever seen any emotion from him.”
“He has a quick temper,” Kendall muttered, touching his nose gingerly. “He just hides it. When he feels like it.”
“And today, he’s not feeling like it,” Weiss added with a smile as he saw Kendall touching his nose.
“As fascinating as your catalogue of my behavioral characteristics might be,” Jack said with exaggerated patience. “I’d really rather stick to the point at hand. Give me the damn coordinates. Now.”
To his own chagrin, because clearly he could have traded much for this information, Sark immediately told them, “The location is in Afghanistan.” He paused and reeled off the coordinates.
“Okay, people,” Kendall snapped. “Get to it. We’ve got the coordinates. Let’s pretend we work in the intelligence business and get the information we need. Now. When Jack gets out of that circle of hell we refer to as the glass cell, I for one would like to give him a report. And Vaughn--”
“I know, I know,” Vaughn sighed as he sipped his coffee. “Options paper. Why is that always my job?”’
“Because Jack feels that is one of your strengths.”
“He does?” Vaughn’s eyebrows went up in surprise.
“Yeah. He’s certain he’ll find another some day.” Kendall ran his hand over his bald head.
Jack asked, “How do you know the exact coordinates?” The Keystone Kops out there had better be pulling up every bit of relevant data they could lay their hands on, he thought grimly.
“From Sloane’s computer files.” Sark sat up straight as Jack fired questions at him.
“When did you acquire that information?”
“I began to hack into his computer when we were in Tuscany. Irina Derevko was acting oddly and I believed it was in my best interests to obtain background information.”
Absently noting to himself that he would have to congratulate Irina on that exemplary job of manipulation, Jack snapped, “Describe location and his condition when you last saw him.”
“I was blindfolded --”
“Did you count steps and turns?” Jack asked.
“Of course! What kind of bloody idiot do you think I am?” Sark looked affronted.
“Ooh, can I answer that?” Sydney asked eagerly.
“Actually, princess---” Sark began, then rubbed his head.
“Actually, Sydney, I’d really rather he answered my questions about Dave’s condition,” Jack said, staring at his daughter, then at his wife, who shrugged her shoulders as helplessly as he felt.
“Sorry,” Sydney muttered. “Do go on, Julian.”
Sark glared at her, then slid back into the bland mask. “To answer the question, since I have no choice, I was blindfolded, but it was immediately apparent that I was in a cave. The smell, the dust.”
“Did you have the blindfold removed?”
“Yes. I laughed at something Agent Caro said, some taunt he made to Sloane and he agreed to remove it. I think...He may have wanted Agent Caro to see me. I assume Sloane felt that my presence with him would hurt Agent Caro in some way.” Which, Sark thought, was inexplicable. Why would this Agent Caro who had used him as some sort of carrier pigeon, care if he was with Arvin Sloane?
“And what happened then? What did you see?”
“Agent Caro was chained to the wall of a small cave.”
“By what? Wrists, legs?”
“Both wrists. His legs were free.”
“Standing or sitting?”
“Sitting. Almost lying down when we first entered, I think, judging from the location of his voice.”
“Describe his condition.”
“He was filthy, of course. He...appeared tired, in some ways. Although he was mentally equipped to handle Arvin. Physically, he was extremely thin.”
“Emotionally?” Jack asked.
“He...He was doing better than one might expect, but the strain was apparent.”
Jack thought a moment. “Why did Sloane take you to see him?”
“I’m not sure.”
Jack took another breath. This preponderance of thin answers. Clearly Dave had set up the protocol in a very narrow fashion or... Sark was just being Sark. “Why did Sloane go to see Dave?”
“To shoot him.”
Jack and Irina stared at each other. Their faces both assumed a narrow-eyed glint that made Sydney step back. “Sloane shot Dave? He went there to shoot him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Jack ground out. He was going to amend this protocol himself to avoid this annoying, irritating response mode. Or punch Sark in the nose. That would probably be more satisfying.
“Because of Agent Caro’s repeated attempts to escape. He would earn the guards’ trust and then make attempt after attempt. Sloane did not want him to escape. Agent Caro was his ace in the hole, you see.”
“I see. And I suppose that calling Dave his ace in the hole when he’d stuck Dave in some cave struck him as amusing.”
“Yes.” Sark felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine and exhaustion begin to creep into his bones.
Jack counted to ten and then resumed questioning. “Where did Sloane shoot him?”
“Sloane’s SOP is to shoot in the leg. He shot Agent Caro in the knee.”
“A joint injury...” Irina gripped her knee.
Jack stared at her hand, then refocused on Sark. “I would imagine that there is no hospital nearby?”
“Correct. There is nothing nearby. Nothing but a small settlement. A well. Huts or tents. Horses. And the smell.” Sark brushed his hand over his forehead. He hated perspiring in public.
Jack’s lips firmed into a thin line. “So it would appear that time would be of the essence.” He looked up at the monitors. “I’m going to go out on a limb here Kendall, and assume that you’ve got the kids doing their homework.”
“Jack...” Irina bit her lip. “The conditions in those settlements --Sloane must be using locals as guards -- are anything but sanitary--”
“I’m aware of that!” Jack snapped. Then he frowned and nodded at her, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Irina snapped back. “I’m hardly some fragile flower who can’t handle your misdirected anger. Just finish with Sark!”
Jack nodded. “How did you arrive? By helicopter or truck?”
“We flew in. Then took a truck for a short distance since there is no local fuel source. I saw many horses.”
“Great,” Jack muttered. “Did you notice the level of armaments?”
“Of course. They were well equipped with launchers and the usual accoutrements of terrorists.”
“Great,” Irina sighed. “Sloane’s definitely expecting you. Or us.”
“Then we’ll need to do something unexpected,” Jack noted absently. “Was the settlement comprised solely of men?”
“No. Family units. Approximately twenty. Many children.”
“Great.” Kendall cursed under his breath. “Sloane gave himself human cover. Thereby assuring that we can’t go in and just blast them away.”
Waiting for a return call from a contact, Vaughn nodded and set down his coffee cup. They were all watching Marshall call up recon images. “I can’t wait to hear how Jack’s going to set this one up.”
“I think...Irina will be a part of the planning,” Judy suggested softly. “And the game. Jack will want her to and she has clearance.”
They all watched Vaughn’s face tighten as he stared unseeingly at the monitor. Through clenched teeth, Vaughn said, “Well, then I’m sure it will be the most devious and deadly plan we’ve ever run out of this office.”
“No, I think that will be the plan to deal with Sloane,” Kendall argued.
“Good job,” Jack told Sark and patted his shoulder. Feeling the fine tremors of exhaustion under his fingers, he squeezed Sark’s shoulder. The protocol resulted in raised adrenaline levels which led to an inevitable crash. “Good observations.”
“I was trained well.” Sark slanted a glance at Irina. “Apparently to be a messenger.”
“Apparently,” Irina said softly.
“Jack, can you...” Sark stopped. He hated asking for assistance. But... “Are we done now? Can you take me out of the protocol?”
“Yes. Go lie down on the cot so you can rest afterwards.”
Sark nodded and got up slowly and sat down on the cot. He looked up at Jack who stood before him. The man’s calm was unnatural, Sark decided. But perhaps he was not the best judge, given that his heart was pounding and he could barely sit up for the fatigue. Still, he had to know. “Can you use the protocol to help recover my memories?”
Jack thought for a moment and then nodded. “Possibly. But it may depend upon whether or not Dave installed other firewalls for different reasons.”
“What does that mean?”
“You weren’t swamped by memories as you accessed those messages. That’s a very delicate balance to achieve and Dave... knew what he was doing. There may be reasons why...”
“I see.” Sark nodded. There might be reasons for his loss of memory that were more debilitating in this Dave’s opinion, than the loss of memory itself.
“But when we find Dave, we can ask him. And actually, he can probably reverse whatever it was he did to erase your memories.”
“If he’s well enough,” Sark amended quietly, feeling the first tinge of fear.
Jack pushed at Sark’s shoulder. “Now lie back.”
Sark lay on his back and stared up at Jack. Softly he began to sing, “All around the cobbler’s bench.”
Jack sang back. “The monkey chased the weasel.”
“The monkey thought it was all in fun...” Sark yawned.
“But pop goes the weasel,” Jack finished in a whisper. “Close your eyes. Protocol concluded.”
“How did you and Dave develop that protocol?” Irina asked, grabbing at Jack’s hand. Suddenly, now that the adrenaline had stopped flowing, he looked ashen. And he hadn’t eaten any breakfast either.
“I...Not with the rats,” Jack said, trying to smile, but instantly wondering how many rats were in that cave Dave had inhabited for God knew how long.
“No. You used the kids as lab rats, didn’t you?” Sydney asked, shivering.
“Test subjects,” Irina corrected, knowing it would probably not play in... Where was it? Pasadena? Poughkeepsie? No, Peoria.
“Test subjects are human lab rats. Dad?” Sydney asked, staring down at Sark. “What was that protocol about? To get Sark to answer your questions, to do what you want?”
Jack stared at her taut face. “Don’t you mean, did I do that protocol to you?”
“Yes.” Sydney stared at her father. “You did, didn’t you?”
“Sydney...” Irina warned. “Let it go for now.”
Jack shook his head. “I want to explain this before Sydney jumps to conclusions. Let’s get this over with. Dave and I thought we had developed a...good thing. I thought we were the only two who knew about it until I saw that poor woman, Emma Wallace, singing that song while the C4 was strapped to her body. I still can’t imagine how Sloane learned---”
“Jack...” Irina put her hand on his arm. Jack could not imagine because he did not want to imagine what had happened in detail to Dave. “We don’t know what Sloane did to Dave when he was doublecrossed. Or what the Soviets did to get Dave to agree to run the other half of Project Christmas. It must have been...” Irina broke off as the unpleasant and unfamiliar stomach-churning acid of guilt roiled through her. Dave was going to have issues with her. “We don’t know what else they did to him before, during and after they cut off his finger with that ring. We don’t know.”
Jack looked down at his hands and nodded. “You’re right. And we both know that anyone can be broken.”
“Yes,” Irina agreed, putting her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “You. Me. Dave. Everyone. Including Arvin Sloane.”
“And we will break him into tiny little pieces, I assure you,” Jack said in a monotone so bereft of all emotion except determination that all who heard it shivered.
“For an evil genius,” Marshall said, biting his fingernails as he kept one eye on his computer screen. “Sloane’s not terribly bright.”
“He doesn’t display emotional intelligence at times, I agree,” Judy said. “But his flaw is probably the most common one - we don’t clearly see the people closest to us, especially when we choose to hurt them.” She paused, then pointed at Marshall. “Turn off the monitors for now. Jack is done interrogating Sark and the three of them might need to have a private conversation---”
“In case it’s escaped your notice,” Kendall huffed. “I do have operational control of this---”
“So you do,” Judy said sweetly. “Marshall, can you show me the new screensaver we’re considering installing to remind everyone of just who’s in charge in the rotunda?”
Marshall smiled and clicked a few buttons and suddenly an image appeared on his screen. Kendall blinked, stared, then slammed his hand down on the desk.
“What the hell is....THIS?” Kendall exclaimed.
“This...little ol’ thing?” Judy asked, tapping first one pink handcuff in the image, then the other. “Why, that’s my just in case.”
“So you or Dave were the ones who installed that so-called safety device in that woman that led to her death?” Sydney asked. “Is that how I knew her - from Project Christmas?”
“Yes. But you...” Jack stopped.
“She was dead anyway, so your guilt is misplaced, Jack,” Irina said flatly. “Sloane wanted to make an example of her.”
“I’m afraid that’s true,” Jack agreed. “The protocol - It was meant to be a safety device. It was meant to help a young agent if they found themselves in trouble and froze. Or a child, if...we needed to rescue one. We were afraid that Irina might have uncovered the identities of the Project children and would attempt to kidnap them. So, we developed this protocol that could be used if the individual needed...assistance at extricating themselves--”
“Because once the protocol is in place the subject cannot resist?” Sydney asked, gripping her hands together tightly.
“Yes. Well, more or less. There are individual variations that render one person more susceptible and another one less. But... we decided it was too powerful, too dangerous and so we located, I thought, all of the children, so that we could...”
“Deinstall it?” Sydney’s mouth twisted. “As if we were computers?”
“Sydney...” Jack sighed. “I can’t win, can I? The truth is I was trying to protect you, just in case you were stolen---”
“You need to know, Sydney,” Irina said quietly. “That my parents - your grandparents - wanted me to take you with me initially because of your high genetic potential. Your father was right to be worried about you being kidnaped.”
“You...could have taken me with you?” Sydney asked, her eyes wide.
“I could have. If I’d wanted you to live a life like I had. Which.... I did not. I wanted you to live with your father. Who loved you then and now more than anything. That was probably the only unselfish act I made for the last twenty years. I won’t apologize for that particular choice because it was the best one in that particular scenario. But I have apologized to your father for my initial mistake of leaving in the first place. Because...” Irina sighed. “The truth is... None of this would have happened if I hadn’t left.”
“But...” Sydney began and then stopped. She didn’t know what to say.
“If I’d only---” Irina stopped when Jack put his fingertip over her lips.
“That’s enough, honey,” Jack said softly. “We all have our own wells of guilt upon which to draw, but right now..”
Irina nodded. “Yes, we have a game to plan.” She began to walk forward and the rest of her family followed.
“Yes. Let’s go,” Jack nodded and walked toward the door to the cell. Opening it, he ushered his wife and daughter outside. While the guard locked the door once again, Jack stared at Sark. “A double sleeper. How did Dave...”
“We can ask him when we see him,” Irina said firmly. She would not entertain any other notion, nor would she consider how Dave might feel about her right now. Tomorrow would be time enough for that. Today...
“You’re right,” Jack agreed. Then with a small smile, he asked, “See how easy that was?”
Sydney blinked. She had heard that before. Her mother had... She’d had a problem with apologizing. Which apparently was a trait her father shared because he certainly owed her an apology for that hissy fit he’d had earlier. Although.... She shoved her hand behind her ear. How many times had she wailed to Francie that she’d rather have her father yell at her than just give her an opaque glance and silence? But maybe she should have yelled back at him? Damn it, she didn’t know, but... “Dad. I think I want to talk to you---”
“Sydney...” Jack stopped walking and turned to her. Tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder, he said softly, “I realize that...our discussion is far from over. And that I probably owe you an apology for losing my temper, but...Not right now. Please. I need to focus on extracting Dave.”
Sydney looked from the hand on her shoulder up into her father’s face. He looked... She realized suddenly that he already looked determined, but exhausted. Shock would do that. To learn that Dave was alive was wonderful, a wonderful shock, but still one that would tear you up inside, wondering what had happened, wondering if you’d make it in time. And... She smiled. “I’ll give you that PowerBar in my purse when we get back into the rotunda.”
“Thanks,” Jack smiled back and dropped his hand. He turned to walk again.
Irina stopped Jack with a gentle hand on his arm. “Jack, wait. Are you...okay?”
“I could ask the same of you, honey,” Jack said softly. “It’s just as great a shock to you, if not more. All those years. So close and yet...”
“So far. All I had to do was...ask for help. Contact you again and...” Irina squared her shoulders and looked up at her husband. He looked... His face was set, his jaw tight, even though his words had been soft. She looked down. “If I’d contacted you again, this would have all been over and--” She stopped when she felt Jack’s warm hands slide over her shoulders.
“It’s okay, honey,” Jack whispered.
Irina stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around her husband. “Is it? Are you...?” She watched him firm his lips and then as he stared into her face, he shocked her by letting her see inside to the mix of anguish and hope. He blinked rapidly a few times before crushing her to him and burying his face in her hair. Swallowing hard herself, Irina turned her face into his warm neck and took a deep breath.
Suddenly Jack felt a hand tugging on his arm. Looking up carefully, he saw Sydney’s worried face. “Daddy...” Sydney whispered, her eyes huge. “Are you okay?”
“I will be...” Jack said in a husky voice. “I just need...” A moment, he meant to say and looked down, not wanting her to see his weakness.
“A hug?” Sydney asked hesitantly and stepped forward. “Let me in,” she demanded, tugging at her mother’s arm.
Irina smiled softly as Sydney stepped within their embrace and put one arm around each of their parents as they enclosed her within the circle of their arms. Irina whispered, “Now, I’ve truly come home.”
TBC at Chapter 2006: Part 2