The Perfect Weapon Chapter 2008: Part 3 Section 1
Chapter 2008: Part 3 Section 1
"Wonder if Sloane's found his little present." Weiss sat down at the counter in Sydney's apartment and looked around. "Hey, your dad and his crew did a good job in here."
Sydney nodded as she paused in the doorway to the kitchen. The last time she had seen this room it had been cluttered with knives and... blood. And the bathroom? She shuddered, but forced herself to walk down the hall and look within.
"No blood," Vaughn said soothingly. "It's all cleaned up. Jack would never allow you to come back here if it wasn't...clean."
Dave watched the latest doctor examine his leg and then look at the IV bag. “Am I going to need more pain killers?”
“You have enough morphine. This bag is mostly to push fluids into you.” Jack frowned. Although Dave might want more pain killers after the conversation he intended to initiate about his wife before she popped back in. She was due back in tomorrow, she had told him earlier. Later than she'd expected due to complications in Kashmir. He had decided to use the extra time to prime the pump and try and make her life a little easier. He wasn't being overprotective and --
He sighed, hearing Judy's voice in his head, "At the very least, don't lie to yourself, Jack!" My name is Jack Bristow and I can be overprotective, Jack recited to himself.
"I know." Sydney nodded and came back down the hall. "He's nothing if not overprotective."
Vaughn nodded. "If I've learned nothing from the last forty-eight hours--"
"And unfortunately, that's all too likely," Weiss muttered.
“Did you say something?” Vaughn asked suspiciously.
“Who, me?” Weiss opened his eyes wide. “Nah. Not me. Nope.”
"As I was saying...” Vaughn turned to face Sydney again. “I learned this. No matter how old you are, Syd, you'll always be your father's little girl, his princess, that he wants to protect. As for the rest of your relationship, he may have been lost for a while, but now if you’ll both..."
"I know." Sydney moved the coffeemaker slightly to one side. "I know we have to work on it. I just wish he hadn't been so overprotective about telling me that he and my mother were working together. It hurt so much, the news that she'd betrayed us in Panama."
“I was hoping to be a little woozy when you tell me what’s going to happen next.” Dave looked through the door at what seemed like a wall of monitors in the nurse’s area of the hospital. Blinking and winking red and green dots. What did that mean? Stop or go, alive or dead? He looked away, not wanting to contemplate that question. “I’m not a good patient.”
“No shit,” Jack groaned in remembrance. How someone so patient with the infirmities of others could be so impatient of his own temporary weakness had always been a mystery to him.
“You’ll need knee replacement,” the doctor said absently as he adjusted the IV tubing. Frankly, it was a miracle the man was still alive between the infection in his leg and strength-sapping malnutrition. Sheer stubbornness must be the only reason. Good though, the man would need stubbornness to get through the ordeal ahead. An ordeal that would be both physical and mental. “And months, at least, of intensive physical therapy to build up your strength. To say nothing of good nutrition. Luckily, with the advances in joint replacement...” He trailed off as he noted a particularly-reddened area.
“Of course,” Jack agreed as he watched Dave’s brow grow damp with sweat even with the gentleness of the doctor’s examination after the initial round of surgery.
“Of course? What the hell is knee replacement surgery?” Dave barked out, his hands clenching into fists. “Is this like the Six Million Dollar Man?”
“Well, he did end up with the Bionic Woman who was blonde, so that would make you happy. But no. It doesn’t cost quite that much.” Jack put his hand on Dave’s shoulder and shook his head at the doctor’s silent inquiry. No, he hadn’t told Dave the year yet. He was waiting for him to ask.
Vaughn sighed. "Judgment call. Maybe he should have told you, but--"
"He was trying to protect you, Syd," Weiss reminded her. "I mean...Think about it. He saw what you went through when she died, then when she returned. He was...afraid."
"He should have had faith--" Sydney broke off and touched her neck. Even Dave had had doubts. Might still have doubts. It was unfortunately all too logical. His faith had cost him so much, then.
“How much?” Dave persisted. He’d rather ask that question than wonder how many years had elapsed that allowed them to speak so casually of joint replacement surgery. “How much will it cost?”
“Who cares? It could cost six million dollars and we’d still pay it-“ Jack stopped as Dave’s eyes blinked and blurred for a moment from pain. He needed to be distracted from the examination. “Just trust me-“
"Why?" Vaughn asked. "Why should he have had faith? Based on what? Her past track record? Based on that, he'd have been a fool to have faith that she'd make the right choice--"
Sydney pressed her lips together and backed away to look in the hall closet. Boxes, neatly stacked. Oh, there. There was her messy box of photos. She should really organize them, especially if her mother wanted to see them. She would deplore the confusion. Not right now though. She shoved it gently aside to see what was underneath. Books and oh, that box from the Archives. Her father’s dissertation. She should look at that sometime. Like tonight when she was lying wide awake. All alone in her bed. Because if Vaughn thought he was getting any canoodling after his behavior the last few days, she had a bridge in San Francisco she’d like to sell him. Or drop on his head.
“You have that much money? What the hell have you been doing?” Dave demanded, fighting back nausea.
“Working as a male prostitute in Bangkok.”
Dave burst out laughing and put one hand over his stomach. When were they going to allow him to eat solid foods? Or even Jello? Red jello or green jello, it didn’t matter. With whipped cream. And a spoon. An actual spoon, made of metal. The guards had taken his spoon away after he’d used it to open his chains that one time. “No, c’mon...”
From the hallway, Irina covered her mouth to keep laughter from erupting. Hmm, though. What had happened to that BOB dress she’d worn in Bangkok? She’d have to discover its whereabouts and surprise her husband. Of course, he was going to be surprised when she walked into the room now, but apparently her new pattern was surprising her family with unexpected returns.
“You don’t buy that scenario?” Jack asked. “I’m so...hurt, offended, affronted.” Jack put his hand to his forehead and sighed deeply.
Dave rolled his eyes, even as he sighed with relief internally. Jack seemed...so much better than the last time he had seen him. So much more himself. Different, but still him. “I’ll be the one whose hurt, offended, and affronted if after all the effort I went to in order to convince you to stop whoring yourself with those S and S missions-“
“Just using my talents.” Jack winked. Good thing Irina wasn’t here to hear this conversation.
“Oh stop or I will vomit,” Dave groaned.
Someone’s going to vomit when I finish punching them in the stomach, Irina vowed. Like my husband. Just using my talents indeed! Grr. A passing nurse caught sight of her face and did a nervous side step and Irina quickly pasted a smile on her face.
“Where did you get the money?” Dave pressed stubbornly.
“I published the manual as a self-help book and made millions, I tell you, millions.”
“Jack...What’s the story?” Dave demanded.
Yes, Jack, Irina thought from the hallway. What the hell was the story with that manual?
“About the manual?”
“NO!” Dave growled in a harsh tone, shocking the doctor. “Sorry. The damn manual is no one’s priority. The priority-“
“The priority here is your health and your recovery. Period.” Jack glared back at Dave.
“Speaking of which, I think I’ll go out and talk to the nurses,” the doctor muttered and hurried away. If the patient could argue that well, he was going to live.
"Well," Weiss broke in, eager to stop the argument before Vaughn said something irretrievably stupid and Sydney killed him. "The important thing is that she did make the right choice. She did change her priorities. She did break her patterns."
"I wonder...how," Vaughn mused, distracted by the question. How could he break the pattern, the habit of hating his father's killer? Should he? Wasn’t it disloyal to his father to forgive his killer? Is that what Dave felt - disloyalty to his friend to forgive the woman who betrayed him, even if the friend had forgiven her? Maybe...He should talk to Dave.
“You know you need to talk to her again soon,” Jack urged.
“Apparently you think so. Tell me why again.” Dave rubbed his forehead. Hadn’t he spoken with her yesterday? Or the day before?
“Because...if for no other reason than this. To give her hope. Again. She is trying so hard, she truly is. Even my therapist - I guess now she’s our therapist - thinks so and I assure you that I haven’t met the person yet who can fool Judy.”
“In other words, she called you on your duplicity,” Dave surmised immediately. He’d have to meet the woman. If she could see through Jack, then she was worth meeting.
“Yeah.” Jack rolled his eyes. “But listen up, psychboy. That woman, Laura, Irina, whatever the hell her name is, needs to have hope. That woman needs positive reinforcement so that all of the hard changes she’s forcing herself to go through have meaning. That woman-“
“That woman is the woman you love,” Dave interrupted. “Still or again?”
Jack smiled. Dave did know him. But he didn’t yet know the woman who was calling herself Irina Bristow. Well, then again, no one did, including Irina. It was a matter of faith and...proof. A logic proof, perhaps. “Listen. Why did you love Laura? Initially?”
“Because you loved her.”
Jack caught his breath, unaware that his wife did the same. He had expected those words, had asked the question to elicit that response, but the clarity and simplicity of them were still enough to surprise. “If, then? If I loved her, then you would too?”
“Well?” Dave demanded. “Isn’t that the truth you wanted me to say? So, now what? Because you love her again, I’m supposed to just...get over it instantly? Get over seeing you...” Dave closed his eyes. He needed to replace those images of Jack at the side of the river, Jack looking like he was carved out of stone at the empty graveside, Jack curled up in a fetal position while strapped down, Jack once again carved out of stone as he went about every minute of his life... He shook his head. He looked up into Jack's eyes, like his face, alive with emotions of all kinds. "Sorry. I know... I know I need to reorient myself...."
“No. I know it’s not that simple,” Jack said softly. “And you can have all the time you need, I just wanted to prep--" he continued honestly.
"There is no subsitute for prior planning?" Dave recited.
"Yeah. But believe me, I understand how you feel. I wanted to kill her when she returned. I...Well, that’s another story. But she has changed-“
“How, why?” Dave asked, immediately overcome with curiosity.
“Remind me sometime to tell you about a night and a morning in Panama,” Jack noted soberly. Then he smiled again. "Judiciously edited, of course."
Dave smiled as the two men laughed together. "You always leave out the good stuff."
Irina was not laughing. She was glaring at the concrete blocks before her, wishing her gaze was as deadly as lasers, as Sark had said once. Men! Okay, maybe she had told Judy some of the details of that night, but that was different.
"I got the feeling," Weiss said carefully, wary of betraying any confidences or anything overheard. "That something important happened in Panama, something that changed...everything."
"My dad said something about Human Battleship," Sydney mused. Well, it was better to think about her parents fighting than to think about how her father had been able to insert that passive transmitter without her mother realizing it. Yuck. She spoke up quickly, "And Mom said something about opening a file?"
"Dave's portfolio," Weiss supplied. "I imagine, having met him briefly, that his words were...pointed, eye-opening?"
“Well, having had Jack slam me into a wall and point a gun at me on at least one occasion, I can tell you that he has a way of getting his point across too.” Vaughn rolled his eyes.
“I still don’t want to take her money.” Dave tapped his index finger into the hard surface of his hospital bed that still felt fathoms of feathers softer than the ground on which he’d laid for so long.
“Dave....Listen to me. You’re being...” Jack pointed his finger at Dave. “Irina has more money than the man who thinks he’s god, Arvin. She should be doing something good with it for once and I know she’d be happy to spend it on you-“
“Why?” Dave tossed the question out. It always worked, after all.
“Well, guilt if nothing else.”
“She feels guilty?” Repeat the statement in a question form, Dave thought automatically. Whew. He wasn’t going to die, although he’d felt like it earlier after he’d woken up from surgery. But that had been a long time ago, Dave realized as he looked at the clock on the wall. He wasn’t adept at estimating time these days.
“Of course she does. Don’t be an idiot. Or don’t think I am,” Jack snapped. He forced himself to relax. The last time Dave had known him, he’d still been deeply lost, trapped inside that glass cage of his own that didn’t allow him to reach out to his own daughter, let alone live anything resembling a life.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means....” Jack glared at Dave. “It means that if she couldn’t or wouldn’t feel guilt over the consequences of her actions, do you think I would want her back?”
After a long silent moment in which Dave carefully examined Jack’s eyes, he finally nodded. Jack had changed, just as his wife had. This Jack was harder in some ways. Not surprising, after all. Maybe it would work this time. “Good point. And once I got over my initial anger at her, I knew she’d loved you and Sydney, but that wasn’t enough, especially given her inability to apologize.”
"Well, I think she changed her patterns for love, of--" Sydney began.
"No." Weiss said gently as he shook his head. Even Dave had questioned that theory, just twenty-four hours ago. “I’m sorry, Syd, but love is not the whole story-“
"Love?” Vaughn asked, running his fingertip in circles on the countertop. “That's not it. That's not enough. If it were enough, she would never have left the first time or she would have returned earlier."
“So...” Weiss asked casually. “You admit that Irina does love Jack and Sydney, then?”
Vaughn opened his mouth and then closed it. Weiss winked at Sydney behind Vaughn’s back. He loved logic.
“So, you agree that she has changed and that she does love us?” Jack pressed.
“Yeah. I hoped that, it helped keep me going. But I am not taking her money.”
“Okay.” Jack shrugged. He knew how to deal with stubborn people. Pretend to give in and press on using another mode of attack. “But you’d take mine?”
“Sure. But-“ Dave broke off. He was being led down a path by a master and knew it.
“But she’s my wife, so what’s mine is hers and what’s hers is mine. Therefore, you’ll take Bristow family money and shut up.”
Someone in the hall began to chuckle.
“I hate logic,” Dave muttered.
“I love it,” Irina said loudly as she stepped into the doorway. She felt happiness fall over her as Jack’s face turned and joy entered his eyes just at the sight of her. He held out his hand. She took it. Once again and for always. She held on tightly and Jack pulled her to his side.
"But still?" Vaughn pressed. "Why a different choice? What--"
"Judy said..." Weiss stopped speaking. Why couldn't they be talking about football or what to order for dinner? He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen drawer where Sydney had kept her take out menus. Would Jack have put them back... Yup, back in place. No detail too small. He shuffled them around and grinned when he found an old picture of Jack. "Hey, Syd. Your father's claustrophobia? At least let the man out of the drawer and into the light." Whipping it out, he affixed it to the refrigerator with a magnet. One of several all lined up in a row. How...anal. That was not like Jack.
"What?" Sydney prompted as her eyes followed Weiss’ gaze to the magnets lined up like little soldiers. Who organized their kitchen magnets like that? She shrugged. Part of her father's clean up crew must have had an anal compulsive.... She reached a hand out and rearranged the magnets into a randomness, then suddenly froze as an image of her father's hand swiping a refrigerator door flashed through her mind. She rubbed her temple. "That reminds me of..." Sydney dropped her hand and shook her head. "What were you saying, Weiss? About Judy? Tell me."
Weiss squirmed around and opened the refrigerator door. Huh. Good beer. Expensive beer. He lifted one up and gave a silent toast. Thank you, Jack. "Hate to get all philosophical, but... Judy said it was one of those moments in life you can only explain by saying that all your chosen steps led you to a door. If you choose to, you may open it and find grace on the other side."
"Grace?" Sydney asked, reaching into the refrigerator for a soda. She opened the freezer door for ice and stopped. Vodka? Why was there vodka in her freezer? “I like that name,” she said absently and closed the door.
"Grace?" Vaughn scoffed, taking a beer from Weiss. He grabbed for the magnetized opener, placed perfectly parallel to the side of the refrigerator. "Why the hell should that woman get grace when--"
Weiss shrugged, while keeping one eye on Sydney’s face. Her patience was running thin. Vaughn needed to watch his mouth or he would live to regret it. "That's the way it goes." He held his hand out to Vaughn for the opener. “And wasn’t Grace one of the names Dave called Irina back when he was doing his set up? Maybe he knew or hoped-“
“I wonder if Judy knew?” Sydney asked, deciding that maybe she needed a beer too. Visiting Will, still so pale and now grieving for Francie, followed by Vaughn’s unending resentment was really a bit too much. She stared at him, hearing Dave’s words about love not being enough and turned. She plucked a beer out of the refrigerator and smiled. Her father had been here and greatly improved the quality of her liquor selection. Opening it, she took a drink and smiled again. Good taste, of course, even if she couldn’t see her father drinking a beer.
“Knew what?” Weiss asked, leaning against the counter.
“If my father and mother were working together. The last time I saw Dr. Barnett, she was talking about faith and grace too. That faith, sometimes, is a quality we have to strive for -“
“Because you were angry at your father about something-“ Weiss teased.
Sydney rolled her eyes. She got it. That was her pattern. Lesson learned. “Yes. And that grace is something we’re given. Unexpectedly and undeservedly.” Sydney took a long drink. “Although, she did add that if you don’t open your eyes to it, you can miss it.”
“It was a gift of grace to unlock the potential," Weiss finished. When Vaughn and Sydney stared at him, Weiss held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just repeating what I overheard." Weiss opened cabinet doors randomly searching for food. He found something else. “What’s this?” Weiss asked, pulling out a crisp, new cardboard box that almost filled the cabinet shelf.
“I don’t know.” Sydney put down her beer and reached for the box.
“Careful!” Vaughn urged. He sighed as Sydney ignored him, grabbed for the opener and using the sharp point on one end, slit the narrow strip of tape that was all that held the edges together.
“Oh my...” Sydney whispered as she looked inside. “It’s from my mother.”
"Well, Pandora, open the box!" Weiss exclaimed.
"Irina?" Dave asked sharply, opening his eyes. Yes, the hospital. Now. It was now. Not then. It was Irina, not...whoever he had heard. Then. Although that had probably been the person calling herself Irina. It certainly hadn’t been Laura, although it sounded like... Dave shook his head. Focus. Now it was Irina unpacking or packing something. “What’s going on... You were humming?”
“Yes. Jack went to make a phone call when you fell asleep during our apparently-boring conversation.”
“Sorry. Tired,” Dave yawned. He looked over. Irina was busy doing what she always did. Straightening up. In the dim light, he might almost mistake her for Laura. Always cleaning up a mess, real or nonexistent. Until the end, that was. Although it wasn't the end, was it? There was no end, he thought wearily, as the room seemed to spin around him for a second.
"I'm sorry. I was folding some clothes I’d brought for you and thinking...” Thinking about feeling trapped by her past mistakes, Irina knew. “Did my humming awaken you?" Irina forced her hands to stillness, while admitting the disorder within. “I was remembering a camping trip - a happy time - trying to distract myself from the mess with Vaughn.”
“Is humming a new thing? I don’t remember-“
“Oh. I don’t remember when I started to do that...” Irina rubbed her hands on her thighs and approached the bed. “It’s just...I don’t seem to have the patience I need with Vaughn and...”
“Vaughn? What’s the problem?” Dave asked automatically. He had a vague memory of a team member named Vaughn who had worn a pinched and impatient expression.
“I...his father was Bill Vaughn, whom I terminated per orders and he’s Sydney’s boyfriend.”
“Wow.” Dave whistled softly. Had Jack already told him that and asked him to talk to the kid? He couldn’t remember. “Well, that’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into.”
“Laurel and Hardy,” Irina said automatically. She looked toward the small case she’d brought in. Empty now except for the dvd player, but she was afraid to show that to Dave who hadn’t yet asked for the date. She’d have to talk to him about something. There was so much, after all. It was both amazingly easy and so difficult to talk to Dave now. He was the man she’d loved, but his eyes were so...assessing, even when his tone was light and friendly and his words full of shared history.
“So...Seen any good movies lately?” Dave asked. What were they supposed to talk about? Did she feel as he did - as if the moorings holding them together were still intact but frayed? “Or you could tell me how bad of a mess you’ve gotten us into this time.”
“Vaughn, you mean? He...when I said goodbye to Sydney at the camp he was so angry. It’s no different than months ago when we were on this plane ride together, the four of us, and Sydney was talking about a camping trip and the songs we’d been singing about the states...”
“Ah. That’s why one of the songs you were humming was from Oklahoma-“
“Yes.” Irina sighed. She had finished her folding. Why had he emphasized the word, ‘one’? Had he heard her hum anything else? She looked at him carefully. “Jack said once that he was going to call me Lorena.”
Dave chuckled. “Where’s your sunbonnet?”
“Exactly.” Irina looked at Dave. He looked better. There was color in his cheeks now. But he was so thin, so tired. His sunken cheeks cast shadows as dark as the half-circles under his eyes. “I’ll just sit here. You go back to sleep. Sorry my humming woke you.”
"No, it's...Not now. Then."
"Then?" Irina asked, puzzled. Was Dave slipping back into the past again? Jack had warned her to avoid that--
"Were you in that prison too, in Kashmir?" Dave asked impatiently.
"Is that where you were?" Irina sat down on the bed near Dave’s good knee. She was careful not to jostle Dave, careful to sit just on the edge just in case he did not want her there at all.
"Yes. The night..." Dave looked down at his hand. Irina gently touched the empty spot and then withdrew. "That night, I was awake."
"In pain." Irina forced herself to stare at the blank emptiness where a ring finger should be.
"Yes, whatever. But that night, I could have sworn I heard someone singing. A woman. And it sounded like--"
“Irina was in here?” Vaughn exclaimed, looking around as if he would see her appear before him like a ghost. “When? How?”
“Before she went to Kendall’s, I’d guess,” Weiss answered softly. When Vaughn opened his mouth again, Weiss glared at him. “And how? Jack may have locked up, but I think if Irina wants to get in, she’ll get in.”
"Me?" Irina rubbed the tip of her index finger over the scar tissue. "I...don't....." She closed her eyes. "Yes. I may have. I talked my way out of it, but that night of the day in the prison that he--"
"He?" Dave stilled as he realized how close they had been, he and Irina. So close. So close - had their circles intersected?
"Cuvee. My...supervisor." Was he dead? Irina shrugged.
"French guy? Floppy hair?" Dave asked after a moment of thought. How he had wanted to punch that guy in the nose. “Superior expression?”
"You remember?" Irina looked at him in surprise. They both looked up as Jack walked quietly back into the room. He sat down in a chair near the bed and nodded, urging them to continue. He could do nothing more tonight beyond being here. He had called Judy, who had found a therapist for Dave of whom she approved. In the absence of that therapist, she had also approved his decision to wait for Dave’s cue to tell him how much time had passed, as long as it happened before they transported Dave back home.
"The events and people of that...period are indelibly etched on my mind, Irina," Dave said softly as he gazed at Jack. He looked good, healthy in mind and body now as a small smile played on his face. Dave kept staring, trying to imprint this image over the stark memories and photographs of vulnerability in his mind.
"While I tried to forget them all," Irina said wryly. "Which is what -- or one thing -- that got me into trouble. But that night--"
"Of the day. Because it was hard to tell because they kept us away from natural sunlight." Dave nodded at Jack, as he leaned forward to listen intently.
"Yes. It was dark and then unnaturally bright, then dark and.... SOP, of course," Irina shrugged.
"Yes. Disorient the prisoner. But that day or night, what happened that made it different?" Dave pressed with questions. He had to know.
"The infinity charm." Irina sighed and kept her eyes on Dave’s face, visible now that the beard was gone.
Dave’s eyebrows rose. "Ah. They did give it to you."
"I still have it," Irina admitted reluctantly. She knew that Dave would interpret the flaw within correctly. 1, 2, 3....
"What?" Dave nearly shouted. He raised himself onto his elbows and opened his mouth and closed it. Then opened it again. “You...”
“Dave. Don’t strangle her,” Jack warned, as he stood up to loom over them both.
“I wasn’t going to, thank you very much,” Dave sniped. “I’d hate to repeat myself.”
Irina looked at Dave. They both knew Jack was preventing the argument the two of them were destined to have, needed to have, to clear all the dust from the air. He did not want to witness it, they both decided. “Later,” Irina whispered and Dave nodded jerkily as he clenched his hands together. Irina forced herself to stay in place while she pulled the puzzlebox necklace out from under her shirt. She flipped it open in seconds and show both charms to him. “Jack made me a new one before he knew that I had-“
Dave lifted his hand. "Wait. You kept it all those years and yet you never contacted Jack?" The charm had meant enough for her to save and yet she hadn’t picked up the damn phone? He watched her snap the box back up and slide it under her shirt protectively. He licked his dry lips. Jack immediately handed him a small cup with a small amount of water and held it up for him. Protectiveness. He had been too protective of Jack in the past. Maybe... He glanced up at Jack and nodded. Jack took the cup away and stood there. Dave lay back down and forced his voice to a soothing tone, meant to inspire confidence rather than defensiveness. “On some level, you knew what you wanted, what you needed to do, but you didn’t act on it? It’s far worse than never having thought at all-“
“I know that!” Irina raised her eyebrows in surprise. Dave had decided to plow ahead? "I know that now. I have so many regrets-“
“Me too.” Jack touched his chest. “Usually for the things I didn’t do. I’m trying to learn from that.”
“Me too,” Irina curled her hand around Jack’s. “To avoid more regrets.”
TBC at
Chapter 2008: Part 3 Section 2