The Perfect Weapon Ending 1 Chapter 1002: Part 3 section 3 of 4
Ending 1 Chapter 1002 Part 3 section 3 of 4
Vaughn stood up and tugged his jacket into place while Weiss gave him a sympathetic look. Jack led the way down the hall to Kendall’s office. Knocking peremptorily, Jack threw open the door and asked, “Kendall, do you mind if I use your office for a moment or two?”
“Not as long as I’m in it,” Kendall said brusquely, as he closed his computer with an aggravated snap and stood up.
Jack smiled. Then began. “Fine. I have a question for you as well, as it happens.” Crossing his arms, glaring at both Vaughn and Kendall, he sighed. “Why is it that every time, every time, I’m tied down somewhere you all screw up? When we took down SD-6, did no one, no one think to ascertain Sark’s whereabouts? If that little flying monkey had not escaped the dragnet, then Irina and Sloane would no doubt have been in our custody in Panama. And this last time...three days ago, there I am tied down again, which I must tell you, boys, is getting really old with me, and Derevko waltzes in and I knew, just knew, she was going to escape again. There it was, an opportunity - which you should have anticipated - and we blew it, we blew it. And why? Let me tell you why---”
“Wait. A. Minute,” Kendall barked out. “You did not indicate in your written report that Derevko visited you in Mexico City.”
“No, it was not relevant.” He picked up a pencil from Kendall’s desk and began snapping it into tiny pieces, throwing them to the floor.
“Not relevant? You want to explain to me how a personal visit from Derevko is not relevant to this operation?” Kendall demanded.
“It was personal. And it provides no new information.” He didn't particularly care if Vaughn knew, in fact, he assumed Syd would have told him already. I mean, the kid was almost a member of....Oh, my, god! What had he just thought? Tamping down the....what was it he was feeling, anyway? He skewed his eyes toward Kendall and picked up another pencil and then began breaking it into pieces.
“Why, Jack?” Vaughn asked aggressively, as his anxiety ratcheted up with each snap of a pencil. “What did she do this time? Repeat herself? Say, touch your hair again?”
“Again?” Kendall demanded. “What the hell---”
“You’re using her feelings for you as the bait, aren’t you?” Vaughn asked, starting to feel confident. Then shoved his hands in his pockets, as he watched the pencil pieces accumulate on the floor.
“I’d pay money to see her response to that email you sent her,” Kendall laughed.
Jack turned with a snarl. “Let me make one thing clear. I may be using her feelings, but I will not tolerate anyone mocking them.”
“That’s a pretty fine line, Jack,” Kendall sneered.
“That’s what I do, isn’t it? Draw fine lines? Even though every weakness is exploitable, to ridicule someone’s feelings is... unworthy of me, at least,” he said giving Kendall a hard look. “And certainly, for all of us, inappropriate. She is a worthy opponent.”
“Inappropriate?” Kendall asked incredulously. “Since when is Jack Bristow a gentleman?”
“Since... I...know what it’s like to have one’s honest emotions held up to ridicule,” Jack said softly, thinking of that supervisor he had punched in the nose. Kendall might wake up tomorrow morning with a kink in his nose that had not been there today. Jack said warningly, “ I will not tolerate that.”
“You will tell us,” Kendall said, pointing his index finger in Jack’s direction.
“Really? I will?” He smiled slowly. “You cannot compel me to provide testimony against a spouse.” Jack calmly tapped an unbroken pencil against the palm of his right hand.
“Wait....A...spouse. Damn you. You and your doubleplays.” Kendall hit his hand on the desk.
Vaughn interjected, “Wait - you didn’t...?”
Jack shrugged. “It’s never wise to sever a connection prematurely.”
“Have you forgotten the Patriot Act?” Kendall asked.
“Ah yes. I suppose you could try and compel me with the Patriot Act, but by the time you got the information out of me...if you could....I could have run the damn game and had her in custody. So what’s more important to you?”
“But---” Kendall began.
“Let’s cut to the chase. You pull down your pants, I’ll pull down mine and let’s see who can piss the farthest, why don’t we?”
Kendall made a face, then began laughing. “Okay, okay. I’ll get nowhere with you anyway. So...
“Ah, see Vaughn? The man is not uneducable. There’s hope for even you and Weiss.”
“Did you,” Vaughn took a deep breath before continuing. “Bring me in here to talk about Nice?” He looked cautiously at Jack, who merely broke another pencil into tiny pieces and tossed them to the floor.
“No. Later. Now, Vaughn,” Jack said softly. “Look up at me. Did I, or did I not tell you after the raid on Sloane’s villa, that you were not to allow Sydney to chase after Derevko alone?”
“Well, yes, but...” Vaughn began then stopped. He was not going to win this one.
“But what?” Jack clipped out. Even though he already knew the answer.
“She told me to go after Sloane...” He admitted.
“She told you?” Kendall asked.
“She told you,” Jack repeated. Vaughn’s head swivelled between the two older men.
“Here’s the problem. boy, “ Kendall began. “Sydney had already demonstrated her inability to shoot when needed, to shoot in the necessary fashion-“
“To disable and kill, if necessary. You would not,” Jack said curtly. “If it had been you on that rooftop in Mexico City, this story would be done. But as it is, Derevko escaped - Sydney didn’t even shoot her in the shoulder to disable her because she was afraid the woman would tumble off of the building. And what a shame that would have been. So, now we will have to move on and use my Option C. And you will be taking a little trip to Pakistan in thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes!”
“Yes. Everything is set. Although it may take a little longer. Depends upon how long your side trip to Toys R Us takes.” Jack said it with a smirk.
“Toys R Us?”
“Stop being a parrot. And son...Some advice - you have to learn when to take orders from your woman and when not to. Learn it a little quicker. Move along now.” Jack made a shooing motion with one hand. Kendall bit his lip. “My friend Zamir will be your contact. Here’s the background,” he said as he slammed the folder he had been holding into Vaughn’s stomach with his other hand.
“Zamir?” Vaughn coughed. “Wait. He’s the one you’ve been talking to on the phone, the one you went to when the three of you were in India? His name has sounded...”
“Familiar? Yes,” Jack nodded. “You should know his name. From your father’s journals. He was also a contact of his for many years. He probably can tell you stories about Bill while you’re with him.”
“Oh.” Vaughn looked at him, startled. He looked down, then back up again. Extending his hand, waiting until Jack took it, he said softly, “Thank you, Jack.”
“Just go,” Jack dismissed him. As Vaughn opened the door, Jack held up his hand. “I’ll meet you in the wardrobe department in a few minutes.”
“Wardrobe?”
“Stop doing the parrot imitation. But, yeah. You’ll need a beard.”
“A beard?” Vaughn groaned.
“A big beard,” Jack said with relish.
“Geez, with all that dust....I suppose I’ll need to dye my hair too.”
“You could wear a turban. Your choice.” Zamir was going to have to take a photograph or two of this for him. He smiled. Vaughn winced at the look on Jack’s face and pulled the door open with a jerk, only to stop when Jack called out with far too much amusement in his voice, ”Oh, wait, Vaughn, I almost forgot. You need to bring some packages to Zamir. They’re on your desk.”
“Gee, Vaughn, something you want to tell us?” Weiss said laughing as Vaughn approached. Groaning at the sight of a mound of bright pink boxes on his desk, he rubbed his forehead. Jack Bristow was an evil man. “Pet Shop Barbie? Forest Fairyland Teresa? Butterfly Tattoo Barbie? Hot Look Ken?”
“There’s a shopping list on top,” Dixon offered, having placed it there himself. He’d hate if Vaughn missed that little addition.
“Wait - there’s a list on top?” Vaughn asked himself. “I have to buy the Barbie Dream House and bring it along too? C’mon!”
Dixon laughed. “Well, that’s not as interesting a notion as that of the image of Jack in the hot pink Barbie aisle buying Hot Look Ken, now is it?”
“Hey,” Sydney said as she walked up, “Who’s getting all the dolls? Oooh, Hot Look Ken. I always wanted him.”
“Here!” Vaughn said with a growl in his voice and tossed the doll at her. “Have him! I can buy another on my way through the Barbie aisle while I buy the Dream House.”
“I had a Dream House,” Sydney said reminiscently as she caught the doll box. “Pink and purple. Had an elevator. I used to rig up these games....”
“Ooh! Hot Look Ken!” Carrie exclaimed as she walked up.
“I wanted him when I was a kid, but I thought I was too old for a twelve-inch-“
“You’re never too old for-“ Carrie broke off her words as Weiss began snickering. “What’s up with him?” She asked Sydney.
Syd shrugged. “Who knows? Men.”
Carrie shrugged too. “Yeah. Men. But Ken here - He has great hair.”
“I know. Hair is important, isn’t it?” Sydney agreed as the two women looked at the doll.
“Hair is important?” Weiss asked Vaughn in a whisper.
“You’re asking me? I, clearly, know nothing. Apparently I should have given her Hot Look Ken instead of a picture frame for our first Christmas!” Vaughn said in aggravation. “Women! Look at them. How long can you talk about hair?”
“I agree,” Carrie was saying to Sydney. “You know who I always thought had great hair if he would just let it grow out a little?”
“My dad. I know. It’s too short. You should see it a little longer. My-“ She bit her words off, having been about to say, ‘my mother....’ remembering Laura playing with her father’s hair, so many times. Was that why he kept it so short now? Well, it hardly mattered anymore. “My father’s hair gets wavy and then actually curly.”
“Curly? I can’t see Jack with curly hair,” Carrie laughed.
“Well, you’re not likely to. The style right now is not for hair quite that long. But my preference would be for longer hair on him too. I think I’ll tell him. I wish I’d inherited his hair. Mine is so straight. His is so much nicer. Yeah, I’ll tell him about the hair, if you have something nice like that, you should show it, don’t you think?” Sydney asked. Carrie nodded.
Vaughn ground his teeth. Once again, it was always about Jack!
“Sometimes the longer hair can be hard to manage for a guy, though. I mean, look at Ken here.You know what happens with Ken when you play with him,” Carrie reminded Sydney.
Dixon choked on his coffee. Life was more interesting around here now that Jack had loosened up. It had changed the entire tenor of the office.
“Yeah, his hair becomes uncontrollable. And no product seems to work on it.”
“It’s a problem,” Carrie agreed.
“If I could interject a comment here,” Marshall said, raising his index finger. “I think the problem is that you are using your own hair products on Ken. When his hair is clearly a petroleum-based synthetic. So, the chemical combination will often be problematic. If you give me a sample of his hair, I could work out a formula, make a product for - What?” he asked, staring as Sydney and Carrie gave him huge smiles.
“Marshall, you are the best!” Carrie exclaimed and gave him a hug. Marshall turned red. Dixon smiled again. Too bad, Jack wasn’t seeing this. He had annoyed Vaughn, given Marshall an opportunity to be a hero and---
“So....” Kendall began. “A doubleplay. Or is that a triple?”
“I have no idea as to what you are referring. I am merely sending the best staff person into the field to acquire information,” Jack shrugged, although a smile tugged at his lips.
“Yeah, right. And the fact that it keeps him away from Sydney for a while, gets him to do dirty, tedious grunt work as a punishment for failing to shot Derevko, and gives him a chance to learn about his deceased father would be---”
“Well actually, it also gives him a chance to do the critical work that will allow us to entrap Derevko. So, it’s a quadruple play, if you’re counting a dollop of personal justice that might allow the boy to achieve some closure. If you’re counting.”
Kendall rolled his eyes and said quickly, “So, Jack, you need to learn when to take orders from your woman and when not to?”
“Yeah, works better when you take turns, don’t you think?” Jack asked without thinking, raising an eyebrow.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I thought the boy was going to pee his pants,” Kendall said, still laughing.
“I know. But he started losing control the minute I tossed the broken pencil pieces on his desk.”
“What the hell have you been doing with those pencils anyway?” Kendall asked curiously.
“Oh, just a little test of the Pavlovian stimulus-response theory. He now sees me with a pencil and his anxiety goes through the roof,” Jack shrugged, remembering the little games like that he and Dave had played on their coworkers.
“You are a son of a bitch, Jack,” Kendall asserted, crossing his arms.
“I know. But everyone needs a hobby.” He sighed and began walking toward the door. “And I don’t have any others at the moment.”
“Me either. Jack...You know, I remember when I was his age, a little younger. The only thing my friends and I ever talked about was sports and-“
“Women. Well, yeah, what else?” Jack said over his shoulder as he reached for the door.
“Well,” Kendall began. “We’re both the same age, same background. And...could I ask your opinion?”
“On what? Which team to bet on in the World Series?” Spare me from sports talk, Jack thought.
“No. Women.”
“Me?” Jack asked suspiciously.
“Who else?” Kendall paused. “Dr. Bristow?”
Jack paused in the act of opening the door. Closing it softly, he turned and faced Kendall. “What do you mean by that?” He looked at the smirk on Kendall’s face. “You’re going to blackmail me, aren’t you?”
“Nah. Actually I did just want to talk. You know. Man to man. I see the way women look at you and I want to know---.”
“What? At me? Why are we having this conversation? You must be joking.” Is this his reward for finding himself again - finding himself in a conversation about women with Kendall? Geez. Life was unfair.
“No. I’m curious. Even that little chicklet of Dr. Barnett’s had a crush on you for a while,” Kendall said with a grin. Jack decided that was something he really did not need to see so early in the morning. If ever.
He sighed. “Well, first pointer? I’ll tell you that calling women chicklets isn’t a good starting point. And Susan? I’m thinking of hooking her up with-”
Kendall rolled his eyes. “Weiss? Yeah, everyone’s thinking of hooking her up with Weiss. So, I’m wondering what you have, that I’m missing-”
“Hair? A personality?” Jack smirked.
“Very amusing. This last date I was on-”
“Are you divorced or widowed or-” Jack asked, leaning against the wall, giving in. This was clearly not going to be avoidable. And he wanted to give Vaughn time to calm down over the snit he was going to be in once he saw those packages on his desk. He sighed. Life was getting good.
“Divorced, of course,” Kendall shrugged.
“Of course. Why am I not surprised? But okay, I didn’t know that and I need to know all the information before I can assess--”
“What do you mean you didn’t know that? You know everything about everybody. I bet you even know...I bet you know my first name.” Kendall took a step forward and glared.
Jack grinned. “Who? Me? Know your first name? Don’t be..... silly.”
“Silly.... You already knew my name was Sylvester. You knew and knew that when I was a kid, they made fun of my name ...You are a son of a bitch, Jack.”
“So, you’ve said before. Sylvester,” Jack said dryly.
“Let’s make a deal. You don’t call me Sylvester and I won’t call you Dr. Bristow in front of Sydney,” Kendall offered.
“Deal.” Jack nodded and looked at his watch.
Even as they talked an email was winging its way back.
In response to Jack’s query of ‘Are you going to make me pay? Jack.’, came this, 'You bet. Just tell me when and where. Or...better yet, find me.'
‘Honey: Find you? And when I do, besides making me pay for that passive transmitter - and I assure, you I am looking forward to seeing you try - what else do you want from me? Jack.’
'Jack: You know what I want. You always did. I want everything. And if you don't know, I'll remind you. When you finally find me. Irina.
“I...Dad, I’m going. I can be the maid, you don’t need to use---” Sydney began to assert as her father finished outlining the entirety of the plan to her and Vaughn.
Vaughn groaned audibly. This was not going to be pretty. Well, at least they were outside, on this airstrip as he waited to board the plane that would take him west, so that the Bristows’ voices would not echo around the walls of the Op Center. He had to be grateful for small favors, he supposed, trying not to grimace at the pile of hot pink next to him.
Sydney began again, “Just give me a moment to get my pack and---”
Jack stared at her. “Absolutely not,” he ground out slowly, as the volume of his voice escalated slowly as Sydney continued protesting. “Are. You. In---”
“Jack!” Vaughn said quickly.
“No, I can do this!” Sydney began to protest.
“Syd...” Vaughn began, only to be drowned out by Sydney’s next terse comment.
“You are being overprotective!” she accused her father.
“I am not being overprotective. I am being rational." Jack spat out quietly. "Let me point something out to you---”
Vaughn opened his mouth, although he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. Anytime. Like NOW. He’d take anything, anyone’s help just so he wouldn’t be in the middle of a Jack and Sydney meltdown. Couldn’t anyone save--- Oh, sh*t, this is what happened, he groaned as he looked up, this is what happened when you weren’t specific enough in your wishes:
Kendall’s voice floated toward them as he walked up, “If anyone wants my opinion--”
“We DON’T!” Three voices said in unison.
“Well, sorry to intrude in your little family circle, but---”
The three of them turned their backs on Kendall. Sydney said, as if no interruption had occurred, “I want to do this, Dad. I want to---”
“We don’t always get what we want--” Kendall began again.
Only to bite it off when all three turned toward him and shouted, “Shut UP!”
“There is NO way she wouldn’t make you within five minutes, five seconds.” Jack shook his head. “You’re good, but....”
“But what?”
“You honestly believe she wouldn’t see through any disguise you might employ? When she is expecting me to find her? Your presence would blow the entire game plan,” he hissed in that soft voice that made Vaughn cringe. Every time. Of course, Sydney just ignored it, went right on...
“I can do it! I can.”
“Sydney. Stop it. Right now. You’re being...stubborn.” Then Jack winced. That had been a stupid statement, he thought, guaranteed to net him an explosion. Stupid. But she could push his buttons sometimes.
Vaughn nodded. Jack was right. Again. He winced as well as he realized he was going to have to wade in. Again. To Jack's obvious astonishment, before Sydney could explode, Vaughn spoke up. “Sydney. Your father is right.”
“What? What did you say?” Jack asked with a lift to one side of his mouth.
“You’re right, “Vaughn nodded at Jack. “You heard me the first time, Jack. Syd - You need to be honest with yourself. Twice, twice you have failed to shoot as necessary---”
Kendall interrupted again. “And that is why, I have signed written orders to ground you for the duration of this op. You have not proven reliable in the field when chasing this target.”
Sydney gasped. “Dad, did you---”
“No.” Kendall crossed his arms over his chest, looking quite pleased with himself. “Jack did not put me up to this either directly, through oblique suggestion, through some machination, or--”
“I think you’ve covered them all,” Jack said with a slightly amused expression on his face.
“Hardly. I didn’t mention hypnosis or any of the score of other manipulative methods at which you excel.” Kendall pointed out.
“Who? Me?”
“You’re less amusing than you imagine, Jack,” Kendall said with a smile. “I am using what little actual operational authority remains to me to do what I believe is best for the success of this op. And that does not include you, girlie, in the field. You are being stubborn in your insistence---”
“Kendall! Why are you really here? Because you don’t seem to be helping,” Jack interjected. ‘Girlie’! This was going to go from bad to worse, if Kendall kept yapping his trap. ‘Yapping his trap?’ Where had that come from? Ah, geez, he had just dangled a preposition too!
Kendall pointed his index finger in Vaughn’s direction. “To wish Vaughn luck. To remind him that the success of this mission is dependent upon--”
“Thank YOU.” Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Vaughn appreciates the additional pressure ever so much---”
“I’m standing right here!” Vaughn protested.
“Yeah, you and- who is that? Hot Look Ken? Barbie’s Dream House?” Kendall said, pointing the handtruck nearby.
“As you said, Jack is less amusing than he imagines,” Vaughn said sourly.
“I don’t know about that. I hear everyone else thought it was highly amusing,” Jack said with a smirk. “And it’s a good cover, you wheeling out a pallet of Barbie dolls. I mean, no CIA agent in his right mind would be delivering dolls in---” They all looked over at the pile.
“A doubleplay,” Kendall, Vaughn, and Sydney said with varying degrees of amusement and resignation. Sydney noticed something as she looked over at the boxes, “Wait, you also have the Happy Family set? Midge is...pregnant? How did that happen, unless is...Is Alan anatomically correct now or....” Her voice trailed off as she turned the package over and began reading it.
The men rolled their eyes. “So, Vaughn, how do you feel about that beard?” Jack asked with a glance downward to Vaughn’s case at their feet.
Kendall said, “Wait a minute. Didn’t you have to wear some godawful beard when you were over there?” He began to laugh as Vaughn turned a shocked visage in Jack’s direction. “Is Vaughn’s as big as yours?”
“I...doubt it. It has to be proportional and Vaughn is shorter than I am. And you know, Kendall, as a tall man yourself, that a couple of inches---”
“Makes all the difference?” Kendall began to laugh and slapped Jack on the back. Jack stiffened for a moment then began to laugh at the look of annoyance, surprise and dawning comprehension on Vaughn’s face.
“That’s IT!” Vaughn exclaimed. “I need to leave. Sydney if you’re done ogling Alan’s nonanatomically correct....parts, perhaps you could say goodbye to me?”
“Let’s turn our backs, Jack, give them a moment,” Kendall said with a smirk.
“Kendall,” Jack said softly as Sydney approached Vaughn. “Why did you really - if you really did - sign an order grounding Sydney?”
“What makes you think---” He stopped as Jack rolled his eyes. “I took a page out of your manual - the first part of your dissertation. The doubleplay. Yeah, I don’t think Sydney is capable of using the necessary force, but in case she insisted I wanted to give you an out, to deflect her anger. Because we all know she would blame you and---”
“Kendall. I...am surprised,” Jack said in all honesty.
“Whaddya know? A red letter day. I surprised Mr. Game Theory himself, or should I say Doc--”
“Syl--”
“Even?”
“Even,” Jack said firmly. “Now, if you don’t mind, the three of us need to discuss something else. Personal.”
“Of course. I’ll leave this happy little family to work out its own problems. Later,” Kendall said and walked away.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Jack took a step over to Sydney and Vaughn. “We need to finish this discussion. It’s too important to let go. When we were so rudely interrupted, we were talking about why I--”
“And I,” Vaughn asserted.
“Don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in the field on this op and ---”
Vaughn interrupted again, “Syd---” Then stopped when Jack raised his eyebrows, but when he nodded slowly, Vaughn said softly, “Sydney, no one, least of all me or your father, truly expects you to be able to bring in your mother if it requires force. This is too much. That is one reason why Jack and I - not Kendall who thought it was just a fabulous idea to have you on the task force--” He and Jack sent identical scornful looks in Kendall’s departing direction.
Vaughn continued, “Why we haven't believed it was a good idea for you to be on the task force. Chasing her down, Shooting at her. And even if you truly believe you can live with bringing Derevko in via this bloodless plan of Jack’s...Still, you want to watch her arrested, shackled? You can live with that? Or...what if something does go wrong and we need to use force? Can you do it, can you live with watching me do it? And...I will do it.”
“Honey: I’ll find you. Do not worry about that this time. What do you want? Jack.”
“Jack. Come home to me. Bring milk and bread. And you know what else I want. Irina”
Sydney looked down, unable to think, let alone speak.
Jack sighed, put his hand on her arm, said softly, “It’s unfair, sweetheart, to put Vaughn in this position again.”
“What do you mean?” Sydney asked of her father.
“Vaughn, explain why you really didn’t proceed as planned, as ordered.”
“You know?” Vaughn asked, then shook his head. “I didn’t even know until I thought about it harder, today, after you cut me up in Kendall’s office. But of course, you know. But...how?”
“I just imagined myself in your place,” Jack shrugged.
“But in Kendall’s office---”
“You honestly believe I’d allow Kendall to know any emotional truths about any of us? Now. Tell her,” Jack said firmly and took a step back. He looked away, at the plane, as if it were fascinating. But perhaps it was. That plane would take Vaughn to start the next to last step. Take him to Derevko’s home. And its...was destruction the correct word? He pondered as he waited for Sydney and Vaughn to finish talking, as he contemplated the next set of emails.
’Honey: You want me to come home? We’ll see. But what is it you want? Besides milk and bread? Chocolate perhaps? Is it that time of the month? Jack.’
‘Jack: Smartass. You’re just mouthing off because you can’t find me. You know it’s not chocolate. Irina.’
Vaughn took a deep breath. “Sydney...Your father was right. I should have been the one chasing after Derevko, taking the shots. Not you. That woman is, in some fashion, your mother. Had been your mother. And I...didn’t because...in part I was...afraid that if I killed her you would not forgive me.”
“Oh,” Sydney said softly, her mouth hanging open for a moment, before clicking shut as she looked down at her feet.
Vaughn asked hesitantly, “Would you? Will you forgive me for this part I am about to play? Even if....”
She looked over at her father, who was pretending not to listen. Seeing suddenly, the look in his eyes yesterday when she had asked him if he would have cut a deal for Derevko if she had told the truth, apologized, worked with them. If...she had come back to them forever this time. Seeing the truth. That he would have. He would have cut a deal, taken her back, because...she realized, he would have forgiven her. How could he? What enabled him to do that, she wondered. What enabled him to make that choice?
Staring at him, a flood of memories went through her mind.
Laura laughing as she said, “Jack, you’ll spoil her!,” or “Jack, you can’t fool me, you’re just a big softie!” Seeing his face as he came home from some trip, mission she knew now, tired, but with a smile on his face, a light in his eyes for them both, always willing to play the “Me first!” game.
Always willing to play any game she wanted, with the exception, she smiled to herself, of the jumping-off-the-second-story- roof game. Seeing him, feeling him cuddling her close on that glider as he read to her each night, as they looked at the moon and the stars from the front porch, even at times when she knew he must have been exhausted.
He had always made time. Had always made room. For each of them. And when her mother would come out to the porch after he had read that last book, that same book every time that she could not quite see in her mind’s eye yet, he would make room for Laura on the glider, open his arms to her, speak softly in her ear, make her giggle and pinch him. Had she ever seen her mother sit on a piece of furniture when her father was around and his lap was available?
When Laura had a bad day at work, he would open his arms. When she had a bad day herself at school, usually due to her unwanted shyness, or if she just wanted attention, he would open his arms, usually before she could ask. /I>
Her father could forgive, she realized, could open his arms, make room, make the choice to forgive, because he had a big heart. Well-hidden for a long time. But a soft heart. For those he loved.
And looking at him, then looking at Vaughn, both of them looking down, both of them waiting, she knew. Knew that was one other attribute she and her father shared. Knew that she could do no less than follow his example.
Then she realized something else. Her father knew what Vaughn was feeling because he was also worried that she would not forgive him for bringing her mother to justice. Which, she was realizing slowly was not really a choice. Not like the choices her mother had had, those choices that had always resulted in her family coming second. But her father, somehow, he was pressing ahead, insisting they go forward. Not only because it was the right thing to do but...What was it that enabled him to face her, with her fears, and keep insisting? A forgotten memory, a long-forgotten memory came to her as she looked at her father, waiting, and she saw his steadiness, his patience. And then she remembered sitting on the glider, so many different books, so many choices, so many nights. But two books most often. And she remembered one, anyway, and that one in combination with her father’s example, gave her the answer she sought.
“Vaughn, Dad.” She waited until they both looked up. “I love you. Both. We’ll find a way to work through this...necessity. I believe that. I am beginning to have hope for the future. I have...faith.”
Vaughn sighed and then a slow smile erupted. “I’m so relieved!” he exclaimed and pulled Sydney forward for a hug. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Don’t be too hard on your father when this actually goes down, okay? It’s gonna be more difficult emotionally than I think you are expecting.”
“I’ll be alright, Vaughn,” Sydney said, giving him a last kiss on the cheek.
He picked up his case as an attendant came forward at Jack’s signal to wheel the truck of Barbies into the plane. “Thanks, Syd.” She nodded. “Jack....”
“Good luck, son,” Jack said and held out his hand. Vaughn shook it and they looked at each other and nodded.
“I always knew you would make the right choice, sweetheart,” Jack said softly as they waved goodbye to Vaughn and watched the airplane begin its taxi.
“Which choice would that be?” Sydney asked as they began walking back to the car.
“Any of them,” Jack said quietly. “But this one - to have trust in Vaughn and--”
“You, Dad. You, too.”
“Thank you.” They got into Jack’s car. As they buckled up, Jack commented, “Sydney, I know you’re disappointed about not being on the field team.”
She nodded. Then sighed. She knew they were all right, but damn it! And she was not being stubborn, she was--- “Why does everyone keep saying I’m stubborn. Even Derevko---.” She bit her words off, thought. “Dad, why did she point that out to me, about being stubborn, use herself as an example of the--”
“Negative results of being stubborn?” Sydney nodded at his words. Jack bit his lip for a second and then said softly, “Because I pointed out to her that one of her main reasons for not contacting us for twenty years was sheer stubbornness. I admit that I’m surprised she actually listened to me about that topic. To even admit her stubbornness, she must be desperate in her little game.”
“Dad, wait, you pointed out to her that she didn’t contact us for twenty years -- does that mean she thought about it?” Sydney asked as her father began driving.
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t. Let me guess. To do so would mean she’d be out of the game?”
“Yes.”
“Did she admit to that? Did she tell you that she loved us? ” Sydney asked, putting her hand on her father’s arm. “Is that why you said she felt guilt, that she had feelings?”
“Yes. Too much pride to admit to a mistake. Too much ---”
“Too much desire to play the game? She loved us and still left us? Not once but twice? Only this time, we know she’s out there, that she can drop back in any time, set our lives spinning out of control again?”
“Yes,” he said once again, as he stopped for a traffic light. “So, we’ll never have true control of our lives, even the illusion of control. I know you want to be on the team, but and for the love of god, don’t take this the wrong way, I cannot accept any mistakes by anyone in this game of my own. This is the game of my life. For both of our lives. Do you understand?” He looked over at her carefully.
She remembered Vaughn’s words about not being so difficult with her father and sighed. “It’s not what I want, but I do understand,” she said dully.
Jack patted her knee. “Thank you. I know that was hard.” Growing up was not fun, he thought as she nodded. “But,” he said with a conspiratorial smile, “I do have some news to cheer you up.”
“What’s that?” she said without much enthusiasm.
“I have an appointment scheduled with my acquaintance for our friend.”
“Huh? Oh. Oh!” She smiled. “So, what work of art will he create for us?”
“Open the glove box, I have a drawing in there....”
She pulled out a small notebook and flipped to a marked page. She burst out laughing. Then tracing the design, she commented, “Actually, Dad, you have a hidden talent here. This is like---”
“Well, it is somewhat like designing jewelry, isn’t it?”
’Honey: What do you want? Those earrings, your favorite earrings? The first gift I gave you? The ones you wore the night we said we loved each other? The first night we made love? Those earrings? Or are you sure it’s not chocolate? Jack.’
‘Jack: Do you hear me sighing in exasperation? You are really pushing your luck. You think you can make me tell you, don’t you? Irina.’
TBC at Chapter 1002 Part 3 section 4 of 4