Saoirse Flynn flipped through the magazine pages restlessly as she waited. It had been three hours since she had called Daire. Sitting in the waiting room was wearing down her patience.

 

Careful, she thought. That’s what got you into this mess.

 

She wanted to laugh at that fact, but instead her gaze settled on her right ankle, now bound tightly in a bandage to immobilize the sprain. Her eyes flicked to the crutches leaning on the chair beside her. She sighed. Thank goodness she had been the only car on the road! The image flashed in her mind again of the telephone pole looming in view of her windshield.

 

A page came over the intercom asking some doctor to report to the ICU.

 

I don’t even want to know what my car looks like now! she thought.

 

She had been rushing to meet Daire when it had happened. He was only going to be in town for a few days before his business took him somewhere else. Somewhere out of Britain.

 

At that thought she smiled. Britain was not her home. She lived there, yes. She also worked there, but it was not her home. All she had to do was open her mouth and utter a single word and be reminded of her home. She spoke with an accent native to Galway, Ireland. But her work had drawn her from that home only a few years prior.

 

Saoirse drummed her fingers on the chair armrest and let out another impatient sigh. She reached for her cell phone, but stopped when she saw him.

 

Daire came right over to her and smiled broadly. “Love, what have I told you about driving too fast?”

 

Saoirse smiled and stood with his help. “At least I was driving on the correct side of the road.” She put in as they exited the hospital. She noticed that his car was parked right in the drop-off area.

 

“Saoirse, why must you always remind me of that?” He asked as he opened the door for her.

 

“I only do it because I love you,” Saoirse replied. She kissed him on the cheek and got into the car.

 

A few minutes later they were driving away. Saoirse turned to Daire. “Daire, I’ve been thinking.”

 

He smiled. “What now, Love?”

 

“I’m thinking of going to Moscow,” Saoirse began.

 

Daire sighed and shook his head. “Saoirse, what do you expect to find there? You don’t even have her name.”

 

“Something,” Saoirse replied. She leaned her head against the window and stared out at the passing buildings. She tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and turned to him. “There has to be something. She’s my mother.”

 

“You don’t even speak Russian,” Daire added. “How do you expect to communicate?”

 

Saoirse sighed. She did speak Russian, but that was a secret of her job. She also had a name. “I don’t know, but not knowing anything about her is driving me crazy!”

 

They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

 

Only after she had gotten inside her apartment and locked the door did Saoirse remove a piece of paper from her pocket. Scribbled in her neat handwriting was a name:

 

Irina Derevko

 

* * * *

 

“Hey, Flynn!” The same annoying voice called out to Saoirse just as she sat down at her desk. It was the same every morning.

 

She glanced up to see the brown-haired young man approaching her desk. He smiled widely as usual and dropped a manila folder on her desk. “For your eyes only, and Williams wants to see you about it in his office at 10:00.”

 

Saoirse looked at her watch, it was quarter of ten already. She glanced at the man. “Mark, do you enjoy torturing the people who work here?” Saoirse asked. She leaned her crutches against the side of her desk.

 

Mark gave them a brief glance. “Are you all right?”

 

Saoirse smiled. “I will be in a couple days. Don’t you have other work to do?”

 

“Right,” Mark said and walked off.

 

Saoirse turned back to her work. She had to read it before her meeting. She opened the folder and started to look over the pages. After a few minutes, she sighed. This looked like it was going to be a long assignment just by the amount of information they were giving her.

 

The folder contained background information on a Russian crime syndicate running out of Zurich oddly enough. She had heard of it before. It was run by a man called Dmitri  Karkaroff. But another name caught her eye on the report: Milo Rambaldi. She searched her memory, but could not think of where she might have heard it before.

 

Soon enough, she saw that it was nearly ten and stood from her desk. It took her a moment to get herself onto her crutches.

 

* * * *

 

Williams looked up from his desk and smiled as Saoirse sat down. “How are you today, Agent Flynn?”

 

Saoirse spared herself a laugh. “Honestly, I could be better.” Her eyes went to the folder in her lap. “But could you tell me what this is about?”

 

“Of course,” Williams began. “You’ve read the report I’m sure.”

 

She nodded.

 

“Currently, the American government is trying to acquire several antiquities created by a man called Milo Rambaldi,” He continued. “From what we can tell and from what information the CIA has allowed us we know that he was a fifteenth-century inventor, much like DaVinci. Only his inventions seem unusually advanced for his time period.” Williams lifted a folder from his desk and opened it. He turned it around and handed it to her. “These are some of his sketches.”

 

Flynn took the folder and began to study the images with a curious eye. They reminded her of the images she had seen of DaVinci’s inventions and art in a Renaissance course she had taken in University. One page in particular caught her eye. It showed somewhat of a u-shaped device.

 

Williams cleared his throat.

 

Flynn looked up.

 

“Reportedly an American agent destroyed a prototype of that device in Taiwan last year,” He added. “We don’t know much more than that and,” He lifted the folder, “This. Karkaroff is a supposed dealer of Renaissance art and antiquities. We recently intercepted a transmission between one of his men and a customer. They’re planning to negotiate a deal for one particular Rambaldi artifact.”

 

“What would that be, Sir?” Saoirse asked. “Curiosity is all.”

 

“We have no idea,” Williams replied. He leaned back in his seat and sighed. “Agent Flynn, your mission is to infiltrate Karkaroff’s organization and find out exactly what it is and who the prospective buyer is. You’ll be leaving in on Friday. Any concerns?”

 

“Just one, Sir,” She asked getting ready to stand. “What is the security relevance of this Rambaldi person or his inventions?”

 

“Supposedly, some of his designs can be used as weapons,” Williams said. “You’ll find more information in the briefing report.”

 

Saoirse nodded. She stood and got her crutches back under her. She heard him laughing.

 

“You will be off of those by Friday?” He questioned with a smile.

 

Saoirse nodded.

 

“Well, good luck, Flynn.”

 

“Thank you, Sir,” She started to leave, but remembered something. “Sir, I don’t suppose I could take my vacation after this?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Williams replied. “Look, you just take care of yourself and get ready for Friday.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse stood from her seat as the train pulled into the station. She much rather would have taken a plane to Zurich. She picked up her bag and started for the train exit.

 

As she stepped out into the air, she reviewed her cover in her mind. Recently, an arms dealer named Ivan Kovalenko had been apprehended. Through the intel he had provided Saoirse was now posing as Anya Melnikov one of Kovalenko’s employees.

 

As far as Karkaroff’s organization was to be concerned, Melnikov was looking for a new job after her boss had disappeared. Saoirse pushed a strand of hair from her face. She looked around the station and soon enough saw a man wearing a leather jacket slumped on a bench with a baseball cap pulled half over his face, clearly napping.

 

Saoirse took a deep breath and approached the bench. She dropped her bag to the ground and took a seat on the opposite end of the bench.

 

After a moment, the man opened his eyes and stared at her. “Anya?” He questioned in a thick Russian accent.

 

“Yes,” Saoirse answered attempting her own Russian accent.

 

The man smiled and adjusted the hat on his brown hair. He sat up straight and met her gaze with ice blue eyes. “Speak Russian.”

 

Saoirse nodded and replied in Russian. “Where do we go from here?”

 

“I’ll take you to the headquarters,” He stood and picked up her bag. “Allow me to help you. I’m Lukin by the way.” He took her by the arm.

 

Saoirse followed along. “Do you have a first name?”

 

“Sergei, Miss Melnikov,” He replied. They made their way towards the exit. “I’m in the same level of authority as you will be. We’ll be working together.”

 

“So how long have you worked for him?” Saoirse replied.

 

“Too long it seems,” Sergei replied. He pushed open the doors as they exited the station into the city air. “So is this your first time in Zurich?”

 

“Not at all,” Saoirse replied. “My business brought me here a few times, but I never really had time to see the city.” She glanced around and saw the car they were headed for, a black sedan waiting at the curb.

 

Sergei opened the door for her, then went around and got in the driver’s seat.

 

Saoirse suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu. In her heart she missed Daire, knowing it would surely be a number of months before she would see him again simply because their schedules were so different. Just the few days she had spent with him the previous week had been too short.

 

As if reading her mind (which she certainly hoped not), Sergei spoke. “Are you all right?”

 

Saoirse nodded. “I’m just a little tired from the trip.”

 

“You came from Moscow, right?” He inquired. “I was there a few years ago, but I haven’t been back.”

 

“Yes,” She replied. “I’ve been doing this work for so long, but mainly in Russia.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sergei said. “In a while you’ll be used to this place.”

 

* * * *

 

Certainly enough, Sergei’s words were true, even though he had not had the faintest hint of whom he was actually speaking to. Saoirse got into the usual routine of the mission. Going about whatever duties her cover assigned and gaining intel at the same time.

 

It was in her second week that Rambaldi was mentioned. It was that same day that Saoirse first met Karkaroff.

 

“What’s your preferred weapon?” Sergei asked surveying the array of guns lying out on the table in front of them.

 

“My hands,” Saoirse replied, but just to be serious she picked up a handgun and cocked it. “Does Karkaroff really believe we’ll run into much trouble with this?”

 

Sergei smiled. “Anya, I haven’t known you for too long, but I can tell you’re a good fighter just by the way you walk and think.”

 

Saoirse raised an eyebrow as she examined the handgun. “You think you know me already, Lukin?” She asked jokingly.

 

“I told you to call me Sergei,” He replied. “And yes, I believe I do know you.”

 

Saoirse laughed and put down the gun. She moved to check another. “Shows how much you know.”

 

“Well then let’s try it the other way,” Sergei suggested. “Do you believe you know me?”

 

Saoirse ignored him and kept working. “We’ve got to get ready before they come looking for us.”

 

“Anya, you did not answer my question,” Sergei said.

 

“Because I’m not ignorant enough to assume something I don’t know,” Saoirse answered promptly. She dropped the gun she held on the table. “These are all ready. I suggest we go.”

 

“We’re the armed guards, Anya,” Sergei replied. “We don’t go anywhere until Karkaroff does.”

 

Saoirse nodded and sat down. She let out a breath and thought. This was it. The Rambaldi artifact was supposed to be sold today. Hopefully, the mission would end soon.

 

* * * *

 

“Anya,” Dmitri Karkaroff was a middle-aged man with totally white hair. He sat across from Saoirse and Sergei in the back of the limo. “I would not ordinarily lay this job upon a woman, but Sergei insisted on you.”

 

And it’s a good thing he did, Saoirse thought. Otherwise I would have needed to find another way in.

 

“Sergei doesn’t seem to know when to shut up,” Saoirse replied with an irritated tone, just to keep her act up.

 

Karkaroff laughed and then his expression became serious. “I am not anticipating needing you two, but no one hardly goes out without guards these days. Mr. Sloane is known for bringing guards too so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

That name rang a bell in Saoirse head. Sloane had been the head of an Alliance cell in the United States. If she recalled correctly, he was one of the prominent collector’s of Rambaldi artifacts and an enemy of the United States. And Britain. Saoirse looked down at her feet. Her superiors had only told her that an American was the buyer. Clearly, they had not known it was this man.

 

After a few more minutes on the road the limo pulled off onto a side road and soon stopped at a remote grass clearing. Sergei got out of the car first, and then Saoirse. Karkaroff followed.

 

Sloane’s men were already there, as was he. He walked towards them. “Will I be dealing with Karkaroff or you two?”

 

Saoirse spoke in her Russian accented English. “Us first.”

 

Sloane turned to her when she spoke. His gaze remained on her face for a moment. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. Mr. Lukin here is rather familiar to me from previous dealings, but you, my dear…though I must say you look familiar.”

 

“I don’t believe so,” Saoirse said. She pressed on with business. “Look, Mr. Karkaroff has the artifact. Now, do you have the money?”

 

Sloane waved to one of his men who came forward with a briefcase. He opened it briefly flashing the bills.

 

Karkaroff nodded. “Everything appears in order.” He lifted the case he carried.

 

Saoirse guessed it was the Rambaldi artifact. She still had no clue what it was, but finding out was part of her mission.

 

“Open it,” Sloane said. He kept glancing at Saoirse.

 

She kept a professional composure and glanced at the briefcase as it opened.

 

Inside the case was a small gold disc. It appeared to be dotted with holes. Saoirse recognized it as a disc from a music box.

 

What could be so important about that? Saoirse thought.

 

Well however it was important, Sloane seemed pleased. “We have a deal then.”

 

“Yes,” Karkaroff replied. He exchanged cases with Sloane. “Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you.”

 

“Don’t spend all that in one place,” Sloane added.

 

Sergei and Karkaroff started back into the car. Saoirse started to but Sloane grabbed her arm and held her back.

 

Sloane smiled. “I didn’t catch your name.”

 

“Anya Melnikov,” Saoirse replied. She pulled away. “And the deal’s done so our business together is finished.” She got into the limo and it pulled away onto the road.

 

As they headed back to Zurich, Saoirse could not help but think about what Sloane had said.

 

* * * *

 

A soft beeping awoke Saoirse from her sleep. She pushed aside her bed covers and reached for the source of the sound on the nightstand. The backlight display on her wristwatch was flashing. She pressed one of the buttons on the side. “Yes?”

 

“Catch you at a bad time, Sleeping Beauty?” The voice of her superior came through clearly.

 

She smiled and let out a laugh. “I take it there’s a reason you’re calling me this early.”

 

“Would you prefer that I call in the middle of the day when you’re likely to be around people?”

 

“The reason?” She pressed on.

 

“There’s always a reason,” Williams replied. “I remember your father always saying that.”

 

Saoirse buried her head in her pillow. “What do you have to tell me?”

 

“You’re going shopping tomorrow. There’s a boutique three blocks north of the train station. Go there and say you’re picking up a special order under your alias.”

 

“I understand,” Saoirse replied. “Slán.”

 

“Goodnight,” He replied. The light on her watch went off. Saoirse put it back on the nightstand. She then attempted to go back to sleep.

 

* * * *

 

The next day Saoirse embarked out onto the streets of Zurich. She made sure to drop by a few other stores before going to the boutique. When she arrived at the boutique she went in and asked for the order as she had been instructed. Not surprisingly she was led to the manager’s office.

 

After the door was closed behind her, Saoirse smiled at the man sitting behind the desk.

 

“I was hardly expecting to see you here,” Saoirse dropped her shopping bags on the floor and sat down. She spared a glance out the window at the street traffic. “Wasn’t Miller available?”

 

“His kid had a piano recital,” Williams answered. “And someone needed to come here to meet you.”

 

Saoirse smiled. “Still, Sir, I get the feeling you’re here to tell me something ‘official’.”

 

“On target as always, Flynn,” He replied. “Look, the reason you haven’t been extracted yet is because there’s more to this Rambaldi thing than we thought.”

 

“Do we have any idea what the artifact was exactly?” Flynn leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

 

Williams shook his head. He sighed. “There’s more about Rambaldi, but we won’t find out what. We’re being pulled from the case.”

 

“Then why am I still here?” Saoirse inquired.

 

“The Americans are planning to raid Karkaroff’s headquarters,” Williams answered. “Apparently, Karkaroff has other ‘artifacts’ that may be relevant.”

 

“I see where this is going,” She remarked. She grinned. “I’m leading their team in.”

 

Williams nodded. “Someone will contact you in two days.”

 

“Is that all?” Saoirse inquired.

 

“There is one more thing. After the raid we can’t afford to leave you behind. You’ll be extracted with the CIA team.” Williams said. “Like I said, they’ll contact you.”

 

* * * *

 

Sydney leaned her head back against the wall of the cargo hold and yawned.

 

“Not enough beauty rest?” Vaughn asked with a smile.

 

“I think the jet lag of years of traveling has finally caught up with me,” Sydney joked. She started occupying herself by checking the supply cases they had brought.

 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Vaughn began. “We need to take a vacation.”

 

“Really?” Sydney asked. “You do realize of course that there’s so much more work to be done even now that the Alliance is gone.”

 

Vaughn nodded. “Of course I do, but I’m getting tired of seeing you stress yourself about Sloane and the missions,” He smiled. “This mission might lead to his capture.”

 

“Yeah, it might,” Sydney said. “If the intel from that British agent is correct.”

 

“You don’t trust the British?” Vaughn inquired.

 

“It’s not that,” Sydney replied. “I’ve just learned not always to believe something unless I see it with my own two eyes.”

 

“Who are we contacting anyways?” Vaughn asked.

 

Sydney laughed. “You haven’t read the briefing?”

 

“I have, but I couldn’t figure what her name is,” Vaughn said.

 

“Agent Saoirse Flynn,” Sydney replied clearly from memory. “We’re pulling her out after we retrieve the artifact.”

 

* * * *

 

“Anya, there’s no way we’re going to make it in time if we don’t leave now,” Sergei paced impatiently in the hallway.

 

Saoirse cursed impatiently as she checked her handgun and put it in her purse. She hated the fact that she had to go to the banquet with that man. Her work within the organization had put her in contact with only a few people. She mainly ran ‘errands’ for Karkaroff that included stealing, spying on competitors, and meeting with customers among other things. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and finished putting on her makeup. “Just a minute!” She smoothed the skirt of her black evening gown and walked into the hallway.

 

He smiled surveying the sight before him. “You look stunning.”

 

Saoirse smiled, but stayed serious. “We have a job to do.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse sat quietly on a bench along the wall of the banquet hall. She gazed around the room periodically looking for anything out of place.

 

Sergei had wondered off a few minutes after they had arrived. That was perfectly fine to Saoirse. It saved her the trouble of not having to lose him when the CIA contacted her. It took her a brief moment to see a waiter coming towards her in the crowd. He lowered a tray before her. “Hors d'oeuvres, Madam?”

 

Saoirse smiled noticed one of the small bits of food was sitting a bit further forward on the tray. She picked it up and nodded thanks as the waiter walked away. Minding her appearance, she bit into it and immediately noticed a small piece paper. She pulled it out and unfolded it cautiously in the palm of her hand.

 

Gallery. Picasso.

 

Saoirse read it and stood from her seat.

 

Down a hall from the banquet room, she found the gallery. There were a few people admiring the small collection of fine art. It only took her a moment to recognize the single Picasso painting with a lone spectator, a tall dark-haired man.

 

Saoirse approached putting on a thoughtful look. She stood beside the man and gazed at the painting. “Did you know that Picasso’s father was a failed artist who painted portraits of pigeons?” With a risk she let her Russian accent slip to her Irish brogue.

 

“I did not know that fact, but I suppose that counts for enough of a remark on Picasso’s history.” He had an American accent and did not turn to look at her. “Flynn?”

 

Saoirse nodded. She spoke in Russian. “What are the details of this mission?”

 

“The team will assemble two blocks from the headquarters. Our main objective is to locate the storage area. I hope you know where that is.”

 

“I do, but I don’t have clearance for that area,” Saoirse replied. “I can lead you to it, but the rest is up to your thoughts.”

 

“That’s fine,” He replied. “Do you-“ He had turned to look at her.

 

She met his gaze.

 

His eyes were locked on her.

 

“What is it?” She asked concerned.

 

“Nothing,” He replied. The instant of shock had disappeared from his face. “You’ll be briefed more before the raid.”

 

“Okay,” She replied. “When do we go in?”

 

The CIA agent grinned. “Now.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse glanced around at the banquet guests as she made her way to the entrance hall. The CIA agent, Vaughn, had told her to wait in the back alley for a van to pick her up. As she walked she unconsciously brushed a blonde curl from her face.

 

“Anya!” The Russian called her. Lukin stepped in front of her. “Where are you going?”

 

“Ladies room,” Flynn answered keenly and kept walking. “Unless you want to be out of place, I suggest you don’t follow me.”

 

Lukin grabbed her wrist. He pulled her into a side room. He did not let go of her.

 

Saoirse just stared at him. “What are you doing?”

 

“Anya, I know you’re up to something,” Sergei answered.

 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” She remarked and twisted out of his grip. “I’m here doing my job.” She started away.

 

“Do you think you’re the first person to plot revenge against Karkaroff?”

 

Saoirse turned at that. “What!?”

 

“Melnikov, I know who your father was,” Lukin replied. “And I know what Karkaroff did to him, but going after this now will only be suicide for you.”

 

Saoirse stopped and stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

 

“One of Karkaroff’s business deals in 1994,” Lukin replied. “It was with Petya Melnikov. Melnikov brought unauthorized backup and the deal was canceled. Melnikov was killed. He was your father wasn’t he?”

 

She felt relieved slightly, at least Lukin had not figured out who she really was. She kept a steady gaze and slowly shook her head. “No. My father’s still alive. He lives in Ryazan.”

 

Lukin’s eyes pierced her gaze, but after a moment he looked away. “There’s still something about you.” He walked past her back into the banquet area.

 

* * * *

 

The alley was nearly pitch-black as she stood waiting in the shadows. She had made sure Sergei had been away when she had slipped out of the party, but her heart was still racing. Saoirse sighed in relief as the van pulled up and Vaughn opened the door.

 

The man gave her a look of concern. “Are you all right?”

 

She nodded and climbed into the van. She held back the hair from her face for a moment and let herself calm down. “For a moment I thought my cover was blown.”

 

“What do you mean?” Vaughn questioned as the van pulled away. “Flynn, if they know about you, they’ll be expecting something.”

 

“They don’t know anything,” Flynn replied. She looked around the small area of the van. “Where’s the team?”

 

“Waiting for us at the rendezvous point,” Replied the driver of the van.

 

In her state of mind, Saoirse had not noticed him.

 

“Flynn, this is agent Weiss,” Vaughn said.

 

“Hi, Flynn,” Weiss replied sparing a glance from the driver’s seat.  “You do have a first name?”

 

“Saoirse,” She replied.

 

“What is that exactly?” Vaughn asked.

 

“Gaelic, it means ‘freedom’,” Saoirse replied. She switched back to the mission. “Do you have a layout of the facility?”

 

Vaughn shook his head. “We have the initial positions of the guards that you reported, but otherwise we’re blind.”

 

“You’re most definitely not,” She replied. “You’ve got me. There are three sublevels of the building. The storage area is located on the lowest one. The only way there is with theelevator, but the place is littered with cameras.”

 

“We’ve taken care of that,” Vaughn said. He held up a small computer chip. “I hope you can get into the security office.”

 

Saoirse smiled and took it. “Let me guess. I hardwire this into one of the connections and it loops the tapes?”

 

Vaughn nodded. “We’ll drop you off, when you’ve gotten the cameras fixed signal us and we’ll meet you behind the facility.”

 

“Okay,” She replied and took the chip from him. “Is there anything else?”

 

Vaughn seemed to want to say something, but instead just shook his head.

 

After a few minutes the van stopped and Vaughn opened the door for her. “Be careful.”

 

“I will,” She replied and slipped out into the night.

 

* * * *

 

* * * *

 

The light of the various monitors illuminated the security office as Saoirse walked in. She had changed from her evening gown into a much more practical outfit, consisting of khaki pants and a white sleeveless shirt. She smiled at the man sitting at the desk.

 

“Anything going on tonight, Boris?” Saoirse asked sweetly in Russian as she took a seat in one of the extra chairs in the room.

 

“Nothing more than the ordinary, Anya,” Boris replied. He glanced at her for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the banquet with Lukin?”

 

She shook her head. “I was, but I couldn’t stand the crowd any longer. He can do the job on his own anyway. I saw Kreminski there in the first five minutes, so we could have left anytime after that.”

 

“Your job isn’t much more interesting than this,” Boris waved a hand around the room. He sighed. “Say, Anya, could you stay here for a few minutes while I take a break?”

 

“Of course,” She smiled.

 

After Boris had left, Flynn spared no time and quickly found the wire connections for the surveillance system. She planted the device and ran from the room.

 

* * * *

 

“Ready for this?” Weiss asked Sydney as they sat waiting in the van.

 

“As always,” Sydney replied. “So what is this Flynn like?”

 

Weiss shrugged. “Blonde, speaks with an accent, she seemed pretty sharp though. I really didn’t get enough of a look at her.”

 

“I guess we’ll see her pretty soon though,” Sydney smiled.

 

“Sooner than you think,” Vaughn replied. He was had one hand on his earpiece. He glanced at Sydney. “She just reported in. The cameras are down, we go in now.”

 

* * * *

 

The moonlight filled the alleyway as Saoirse sat on the steps of a backdoor. She held a gun in her hand, ready for anything that might come along. It was rather cold that night, so she could see each breath she took.

 

The roar of an engine startled her for a moment and she looked up to see the van coming down the alley.

 

When the door opened, the Vaughn and Weiss got out along with another agent. A woman.

 

Saoirse stood up and walked towards them. “I was hoping you would get here.”

 

“Well, we’re here,” Weiss replied with a small laugh.

 

“Flynn,” Vaughn cut in. “This is agent Sydney Bristow. She’ll be right behind you through this.”

 

“Agent Bristow,” Flynn shook hands with the woman and then turned to the rest of them. But something caused her to look back at Bristow. The woman returned her gaze. There was something about her face. She shook it off and returned to her job. “I’ve disabled the security cameras. The alarm system can only be triggered now by a false code entry in one of the access panels. I managed to hack into the system and upgrade my clearance. My code will work to open the door. We’ll move in from the side entrance.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse heard agents Bristow and Vaughn walking behind her as they got off the elevator and started through the sublevel corridors. Weiss was on the level above them keeping watch.

 

Saoirse took a step forward and glanced around a corner. Quickly she whipped back and leaned against the wall. She turned to Bristow. “It’s clear.”

 

They crept down the hall to a doorway. There was a keypad on the wall, which Saoirse glanced at. “I just hope my code opens this.” She moved to punch it in, but the radio crackled at that moment.”

 

“I just spotted two guards heading your way,” Weiss said clearly. “Make it quick.”

 

Saoirse held her breath and punched the numbers in. The code clear and she heard the door lock click. She opened it and let the two CIA agents in first.

 

Saoirse then slipped in behind them.

 

Crates were stacked from wall to wall and were piled on top of one another.

 

Saoirse looked at Sydney. “Any idea which one it is?”

 

“We do,” Sydney answered. She glanced at the door. “Go keep an eye out.”

 

Saoirse nodded acknowledgement and walked out into the hallway. No sooner had she closed the door, than she heard footsteps coming towards her. She cocked her gun and turned to face the person.

 

“Drop it, Anya!” That voice had become far too familiar in past weeks.

 

She met Lukin’s gaze. “What are you doing?” She asked with a surprised tone.

 

Sergei only stepped closer and aimed the gun higher. “Drop it. Please, Anya, I don’t want to shoot you.”

 

Saoirse studied him. Finally, she dropped her weapon and put up her hands.

 

“Turn around, hands against the wall,” Lukin instructed.

 

Saoirse did as she was told. After a moment she felt him reaching to handcuff her wrist. She took that opportunity to grab his arm and knock him to the ground. She grabbed the gun from his grasp and aimed it at him.

 

Lukin looked up at her with fear in his eyes. “Who are you?”

 

“That doesn’t matter,” She said and brought the butt of the gun across his head.

 

A moment later Vaughn and Bristow emerged from the storage room. Vaughn carried a black duffel bag with him.

 

“Did you find it?” Saoirse asked.

 

Vaughn nodded. He glanced at the unconscious man lying at her feet. “I see you’ve had company.”

 

“Yeah,” She replied. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

* * * *

 

There was a knock at the door for the third time that day. Saoirse sighed and got up from her homework to answer it. She saw the shadow of someone outside through the stained-glass window of the front door.

 

With a smile, she opened the door.

 

A man in a business suit stood on the front steps. Saoirse immediately recognized him as one of her father’s co-workers.

 

“Mr. Peters, how are you?” She asked with a smiled and ushered him into the house.

 

Peters did not return her smile, but seem spared her a rather concerned glance. “Saoirse, I need to speak with your mother.”

 

“She’s in the kitchen,” Saoirse replied and started to lead him to the back.

 

“Are your brother and sisters around?” He asked after a moment.

 

Saoirse shook her head. “They’ve been gone ever since Paul got back with his license. I just hope they don’t get into an accident,” At that she laughed, but noticed his face. “Is something wrong?”

 

“I should speak with your mother first, Saoirse,” Was all he said and walked past her.

 

As he disappeared into the kitchen, Saoirse sighed and decided to go back to her work. The only reason she wasn’t out with her sisters and her crazy brother was because of the homework. She was hoping to get into a university the next year.

 

After a few minutes she heard the front door open and close, meaning that Peters had left. She stood and walked into the kitchen. No sooner had she stepped into the room than a wail of sorrow echoed across the room.

 

Her mother sat at the kitchen table, her face hidden in her hands, and crying. She turned to face Saoirse as the girl walked in. Her eyes were red with tears, nearly matching the highlights of her auburn hair.

 

“Mama, what is it?” Saoirse questioned. She resisted the urge to simply throw her arms around her mother to comfort her. She wanted to know what had happened.

 

“Your father…” Her mother’s voice cracked.

 

Saoirse banged her head against the wall of the hold as she was startled awake. Her breathing slowed as she started to calm down. She pressed a hand to her face and found that she was crying. Hugging her knees to her chest, she willed the tears to disappear, but the memory was just too painful. Her father had worked for the government too and it was what had ultimately killed him. Her work was a constant reminder of that.

 

“Hey, Flynn?” Weiss spoke distracting her thoughts. “You okay?” Agents Bristow and Vaughn were on a separate plane for security reasons.

 

Saoirse rested her chin on her knees. “I’m all right.” Her tone was rather unconvincing.

 

Weiss smiled. “Okay, I’m pretending to know everything, but I can tell when someone lying.”

 

“I just had a bad dream,” She replied. She brushed a hand through her hair and sighed.

 

“You know what,” Weiss replied. “Bad dreams always make me feel like a midnight snack. Are you hungry?” He started searching through some of the luggage. After a moment he managed to find a granola bar.

 

Saoirse took it with a smile. She began to unwrap it, but paused. “I was thinking about my father.”

 

“What has he been nagging you lately for being out past your curfew or something?”

 

Saoirse shook her head. “No. My father is dead, Agent Weiss. He died doing this work.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Weiss replied.

 

“It’s no one’s fault,” Saoirse replied. She took a bite of the granola bar, which ended the conversation.

 

An hour later, Saoirse found Weiss staring at her. “What?”

 

He shrugged and shifted his gaze away. “It’s just that…”

 

Saoirse found herself smiling. “Just that what?”

 

“Flynn, have you noticed any similarity between yourself and Agent Bristow?”

 

She had to admit, she was not surprised at the question. “I see a resemblance, but that’s entirely irrelevant.”

 

“So what else can we talk about?” Weiss asked.

 

“Agent Weiss, there is a plethora of conversational topics available. Pick one,” The young woman returned raising an eyebrow. “Unless you’d like to share something about this Rambaldi guy.”

 

“I can’t exactly give you the full details of that,” Weiss remarked. “Seeing as-“

 

“I’m no longer authorized in that area,” Saoirse finished his sentence. “I understand perfectly, Agent Weiss.”

 

Weiss gave her a smile and then turned to something next to him. He turned back and handed Saoirse a manila envelope. “This is your stuff I guess. Your superiors passed it on to us. Sorry, I forgot to give it to you sooner.”

 

“Thanks,” She answered and took the envelope. She opened it and sure enough found her ID, cell phone, and even her keys. She turned on the phone to check her messages smiled.

 

“Something interesting?” Weiss asked observing her expression.

 

“Just amazing how many times my boyfriend has tried to call me in the past three weeks,” She laughed. “Even though I told him not to.” No sooner had she finished speaking than the phone rang.

 

“Hello?” Saoirse answered.

 

“Where have you been, Love?” A familiar voice replied. “I know you said you’d be out of town, but still you couldn’t take your phone?”

 

“Well, I’m on my way home, Daire,” She replied.

 

“Good, then I’ll come pick you up as soon as your plane lands,” Daire answered. “I hope you’re still not planning that trip to Moscow.”

 

She could not help, but laugh. “I’ve had enough of Russia for a while.”

 

“Oh, so is that where you’ve been then?” He asked with a tone of indignation.

 

“No,” She replied irritated. “I’ve been working.”

 

“Saoirse, I don’t see how working as a consultant requires weeks of your time,” Daire said. She heard him sigh. “How long before you get here?”

 

“I’m not exactly on the plane home yet,” Saoirse replied. “It might be a couple days. I’ll let you know. Where are you exactly?”

 

“Right now,” Daire’s voice took on a playful tone. “I’m in Edinburgh.”

 

“So are you planning to go back to London any time soon,” Saoirse replied. “Seeing as how you’ve said you’ll pick me up and that is where I live.”

 

“Of course, Love,” He paused. “Look, I’ll have to call you back. Something just came up.”

 

“Okay, I love you,” Saoirse made sure to say before he hung up.

 

“You too, Love,” The line cut out.

 

Saoirse put the phone in her pocket. She looked at Weiss. “Where are we going?”

 

“Los Angeles,” He answered with a smile. “Back to our field office.”

 

“Look, Agent Weiss,” Flynn began. “I’m sorry if I was short with you earlier. It’s just that the issue of my father is rather,” She paused, “Well, painful.”

 

“It’s okay,” Weiss replied. “I understand.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse sat at a desk in the CIA Ops center drinking a cup of coffee. Going from Europe to the United States had completely thrown off her idea of time. She felt like she should have been sleeping at that moment, yet the rest of the people around her were perfectly in sync with the time zone. She would be leaving for London in two hours.

 

“Agent Flynn.”

 

Saoirse looked up.

 

The man who had spoken stood a few feet from the desk. He was at least six feet tall with graying hair. “I’m Jack Bristow.” He held out his hand.

 

Saoirse shook it and smiled. “Nice to meet you. I take it you’re Sydney Bristow’s father?”

 

Jack nodded. “Look, Miss Flynn can I ask you a question?”

 

"I suppose," Saoirse replied. "But I'll have to hear it before I can be certain that I'll give an answer."

 

“You look very familiar. Sydney agrees. I was curious who your parents are."

 

Saoirse looked away for a moment. "I've no idea. Well, at least no idea of whom my biological parents were. I was dumped in an orphanage when I was two and was adopted by the Flynns."

 

"How old are you?" Jack asked.

 

"Twenty-three," Saoirse asked. "Agent Bristow, where are you going with this?"

 

"When’s your birthday?" Jack pressed on.

 

"Fifteenth of June," Saoirse replied. "Why do you ask?"

 

Jack sighed. "I'll tell you later, Flynn. But don't go anywhere until I get back to you." With that he left in flash.

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she stomped through the Ops Center. She ignored the formality of knocking and walked straight into the director’s office. “What is this about stopping my departure?”

 

Kendall looked up from his desk. “Agent Flynn, I don’t know what makes you think you can just burst in here, but I will not tolerate it. And as far as your release, something has come to my attention that can’t be ignored.” He picked up a folder on the desk and handed it to her. “Report to medical services. They need to run some tests.”

 

Flynn glared at him. “What the hell is this about?” She all but shouted the question.

 

Kendall only returned her glare. “Flynn, you don’t have the authorization for that answer.”

 

“I don’t care about any bloody authorization!” Saoirse retorted. “If this has anything to do with me I want to know what it’s about before I even let your goons touch me!” She calmed down. “Now, what is this about? I do have a plane to catch.”

 

“No you don’t,” Kendall replied. “Miss Flynn, have you ever heard of Irina Derevko?”

 

Inside Saoirse gasped at that name, but she was smart enough not to show her shock. She shook her head. “No, I’m not familiar with that name.”

 

“Miss Derevko was the head of a terrorist organization. She went by the alias of The Man. Surely you’ve heard of The Man,” Kendall said. He was watching her for any response.

 

“I have,” Saoirse replied. She kept a calm face, but inside she was screaming. She had only known her real mother’s name. Nothing else.

 

“Irina Derevko was a walk-in last September. Since, then she’s provided valuable intelligence to this agency, which aided us in bringing down the Alliance.”

 

“Why are you telling me this, Sir?” Saoirse inquired with an apparently exasperated breath.

 

“Because Derevko has asked to speak with you,” Kendall replied.

 

“But-“ Saoirse’s reply was cut off as Jack Bristow stormed in.

 

“Why wasn’t I informed of this?” Bristow demanded. “Any information regarding Derevko should have been given to me!”

 

Kendall only glanced at him. “Your ex-wife is a prisoner of the federal government, Jack. And it looks as if Agent Flynn is being silent about something.”

 

Bristow only now noticed the young woman standing in the room.

 

Saoirse only looked at her feet, and then spared a glance at the two men. “I have no idea what this is all about.” She met Jack’s gaze. His eyes were so familiar. “But yes, I have heard of Irina Derevko. I apologize for lying a moment ago, but I learned her name outside of work.”

 

“How?” Jack asked.

 

“I have reason to believe she is my mother.”

 

* * * *

 

Jack’s brown eyes were steady on Saoirse’s gaze. He seemed to be looking for something. “What do you mean?”

 

“Mr. Bristow, I told you I was adopted,” Flynn began. She nervously brushed a hand through her hair. “A few months ago one of my contacts passed along a name to me. I had asked him to look into my adoption records simply out of curiosity. There was nothing, but the signature of my mother signing me over to government custody. Her name was Irina Derevko. Until now, I’ve heard nothing of her being a terrorist or…

 

“Jack, this can’t simply be brushed off as nothing,” Kendall said with an irritated tone. “Derevko has claimed Flynn is her daughter. You know what this means regarding the Rambaldi prophecy.”

 

Flynn whipped around and stared at Kendall. “What…” Her words faded as shock set in. Her gaze swept between both men. Tears were forming in her eyes. “Could someone please just tell me what is going on?”

 

“Obviously there are many questions that need answering,” Jack replied. He locked eyes with her.

 

Saoirse swore to herself that his gaze seemed almost fatherly.

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse tapped her foot on the tile floor. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Could it all be true? Was this Derevko really her mother? And what was it Kendall had said to Jack Bristow, something about his ex-wife?

 

She pressed a hand to her forehead. Not surprisingly she felt a headache coming on, just what she needed now. She was waiting in the conference room. It was obvious that she was not going to be leaving today.

 

She looked up to see someone walking in. It was Sydney Bristow. The woman took a seat at the table with her and placed a folder on the table.

 

“Saoirse, are you all right?” Sydney asked.

 

“I’m incredibly confused if that counts for anything,” Saoirse replied. “So, could you tell me what exactly is going on?”

 

“When you arrived here Irina Derevko was being transferred from an interrogation room back to her cell. She recognized you,” Sydney replied. “She asked to speak with you, but gave no apparent reason why. Saoirse, the moment I saw you I knew something was familiar about you.”

 

“I know what you mean,” Saoirse replied.

 

Sydney met her gaze. “My father was going to try and find out where he’d seen you before, but Kendall got it before he could do anything.”

 

“In few hours that I’ve been here I’ve figured out that your superior isn’t exactly the most likable person,” Saoirse replied.

 

“I should tell you that Irina Derevko is a former member of the KGB. During the Cold War, she was sent to the US to steal classified information. Under an alias, she married my father,” Sydney spoke slowly. “She’s my mother.”

 

“So that means…” Saoirse’s voice faded as she realized whom she was really talking to.

 

Sydney nodded. “We just got back the results of your DNA test. You are Derevko’s daughter.”

 

Saoirse let out a shaky breath and pressed a hand to her face. “And my father?”

 

“Same as mine,” Sydney spoke honestly. “Saoirse, I understand that this is an incredible shock.”

 

Saoirse shook her head and looked at Sydney with tear-filled eyes. “I expected this sooner or later. I just never realized how it would feel.” She spared Sydney a smile. “I was five when my parents told me the truth. You know I have two sisters. I have a mother, and I had a father. That’s why this feels so odd.”

 

Sydney smiled, but picked up the folder on the table and pushed it to Saoirse. “There’s a reason Kendall was suspicious. It’s Rambaldi. About a year ago a document was recovered. It’s page 47 of the Rambaldi manuscript.

 

Saoirse opened the folder and examined a photograph of the page. Her brow furrowed as she stared at it. “This looks like…well, it could be me or you.”

 

“Or it could be Mom,” Sydney added.

 

Saoirse was slightly taken aback at Sydney’s reference to her mother as ‘Mom’. The way Sydney had spoken was as if inclusive of the two of them.

 

“What does it say?” Saoirse questioned. “I can tell it’s encoded. Far more complex than Da Vinci’s mirrored left-hand script.”

 

“‘This woman here depicted will possess unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works. Bind them with fury, a burning anger unless prevented at vulgar cost this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation.’” Sydney replied. “I was held by the federal government for a period of time last year because of this prophecy. I was cleared. Irina Derevko was believed to be this woman and still is, but your appearance has changed things.”

 

* * * *

 

The bars lifted as Jack Bristow started down the hallway towards the cell. He stopped in front of the glass.

 

Irina was sitting on the bunk reading. She put down the book and approached the glass. “Jack, is there something you want?” Her brown eyes studied him.

 

“It would seem that there is something [i]you[/i] want,” Jack replied sternly. “You’ve requested to speak with an agent from British Intelligence. Do you have a reason?”

 

Irina looked away for a moment. “Jack, there’s something I need to tell you.”

 

“Tell me, Irina,” Jack said quietly. “Does blonde hair run in your family? It certainly doesn’t in mine.”

 

Irina turned back to him. “You know…” The corners of her mouth lifted slightly in a small smile.

 

“We have another daughter,” Jack said before she could continue. “Irina, how…”

 

“Jack, I was nearly two months pregnant when I was extracted,” Irina answered meeting his gaze. “I had had more to leave behind than I had more to go home to. For two years she was the one reminder I had of you and Sydney.”

 

“Why did you leave her?” Jack questioned.

 

“Jack, at the time I was still KGB,” Irina replied. “Do you think it would have been more practical had I kept her with me?”

 

“You said she was with you for two years,” Jack observed.

 

“Yes,” Irina replied. “She was born in Russia, but it wasn’t safe. I placed her with a family in Ireland. The man who adopted her was one of my contacts. I trusted him.”

 

“He apparently worked in intelligence, too.” Jack replied.

 

Irina smiled. “It was the Cold War, Jack. There were Soviet spies all over.”

 

“How did you recognize her?” Jack asked.

 

“Do you really need to ask me that question? It’s obvious that you noticed her, too,” Irina answered. She crossed her arms. “What’s her name?”

 

“Didn’t you have a name for her?” Jack inquired.

 

“It was Arisha,” Irina answered. “But I know it was changed.”

 

“It’s Saoirse,” Jack replied.

 

“Can I see her?” Irina asked.

 

“Kendall, hasn’t cleared it yet,” Jack said. His expression softened. “And, besides, she may not want to.”

 

Irina sighed impatiently. “I can understand that, but there are things I need to tell her.”

 

“Sydney is speaking with her now. I’m not sure exactly how she’s going to react.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse stared at her reflection in the mirror. It had been an incredibly long day. She was still adjusting to the time zone of Los Angeles. While she had been speaking with Agent Bristow and the various other people who had talked to her that day, sleep had been a fond thought. But the news of that day had been shocking. There was more to do tomorrow.

 

She yawned and shook her head in an almost futile attempt to regain energy to stay awake. Turning off the bathroom light, she went to the bedroom. The CIA had put her up in a hotel room for the night. The room was nice, but definitely not five star. She took a glance out the window. It was nearly impossible to see any stars in the sky with the city lights.

 

Saoirse shut off the bedside lamp and went to sleep.

 

* * * *

 

“No! A Mham! Ná h-imigh!” Saoirse heard herself screaming.

 

“Flynn!” Something shook her. The voice intruded on her thoughts. “Wake up!”

 

“A Mham!” Suddenly she woke up. She sat up and brushed the hair back from her face.

 

A concerned Agent Weiss was standing a few feet from the bed. “Are you all right?”

 

Saoirse was too caught up in her thoughts. What had she been shouting? “No. A Mham. Ná h-imigh.” She whispered the words over under her breath.

 

“Saoirse?” Weiss asked. “Are you all right?”

 

She turned to him. “How did you get in here?”

 

Weiss smiled and held up a room key. “I heard you screaming. I got the manager to let me in.”

 

She glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past 8:00 A.M. The daylight outside was more than enough to indicate that. “You were here to pick me up.” She realized.

 

Weiss nodded. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get ready.” He went out the door and closed it behind him.

 

Saoirse went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She knew what she had been saying, but why? She had no memory of that event. But then right now she wasn’t that sure of herself. 

 

* * * *

 

 

“Sydney!” Jack called to his daughter when she walked into the Ops Center.

 

Sydney walked over to him. “What is it, Dad?”

 

“Saoirse’s been reassigned to work with the CIA regarding the Rambaldi artifact,” Jack replied. “You may be working with her.”

 

“Dad, what about the prophecy?” Sydney asked. “Didn’t Kendall call her in for testing?”

 

“He tried, but she’s a foreign agent. They have no right to touch her,” Jack replied. “Sydney, your mother told me everything about her. Apparently, Saoirse knew nothing about your mother.”

 

“It’s still odd though,” Sydney looked up. “She turns out to be a spy just like the rest of us.”

 

“I would like to hope it was just coincidence,” Jack replied. “But it wasn’t. Her adopted father was one of Irina’s intelligence contacts.

 

“What are you saying?” Sydney questioned. “You think Saoirse might be working for someone other than intelligence?”

 

“No,” Jack replied. “But I don’t trust her, Sydney. So be careful.”

 

* * * *

 

Flynn walked into Kendall’s office. “What is it?”

 

“Have a seat, Miss Flynn,” Kendall said, barely looking up from his desk. He closed the folder he was reading and slid it across the desk to her. “These are your orders from London. You’ve been assigned to work with the CIA to retrieve the Rambaldi artifact you observed being sold to Arvin Sloane.”

 

Saoirse opened the folder and saw that sure enough the order was from Williams. She closed it and looked at Kendall. “What about Derevko?”

 

“Flynn, your parentage may be questionable, but that doesn’t eliminate the fact that you’re an intelligence agent,” Kendall replied. “There will be a meeting in one hour.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse glanced around the open office area of the CIA's operation center. She was waiting for the mission briefing.

 

"Coffee?" A voice asked.

 

Saoirse turned to see a short man brown-haired man extending a cup to her. "Sure." She took the offered cup.

 

"So, you're from Ireland?" The man asked in a rather quick tone. "The emerald isle, Erin go Bragh..." He seemed distracted. "I shouldn't have said that."

 

Saoirse smiled, allowing herself a laugh. "What's your name?"

 

"Marshall," The man replied. "I'm the tech guy. So you’re…Sydney’s sister?"

 

"Saoirse Flynn. Apparently I am who you say," She replied. "And thanks for the coffee."

 

"Saoirse," He said. "I don't think I've ever heard that name, I mean I've heard a lot of names... well I mean it's not like I don't get out of here a lot, I mean I do, but..."

 

Saoirse smiled. "That's okay." She spared a glance towards the security corridor. "So that's where Derevko's being held?"

 

“Yeah,” Marshall replied. “Do you-“

 

Saoirse’s cell phone rang at that moment. “Excuse me,” She told Marshall and answered her phone. “Hello?”

 

“Saoirse, where are you?” A female voice practically screamed over the line. “I’ve been trying to call you for weeks!”

 

“Nicole, calm down,” Saoirse replied. “I’ve been working.”

 

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me,” The woman replied. “Saoirse, I’m your sister! I was worried. So was Mom.”

 

“Nikky, you know what type of work I do,” Saoirse said.

 

“Saoirse,” Her sister breathed irritably. “Of course I do. That’s why I was worried. Ever since Dad…”

 

Saoirse knew her sister was about to cry. “I know, Nikky. But I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

 

“Something tells me you’re lying,” Nicole remarked quietly.

 

“I-“ Saoirse stopped talking as she saw Vaughn, Weiss, and Bristow walking towards the conference room. Weiss waved for her to follow them. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

 

“Yeah, like in another month!” Nicole replied. “Make sure you call me.”

 

“I will,” Saoirse replied and ended the call. She put her phone away and went to the conference room.

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse took a seat at the conference table and the meeting started.

 

Vaughn stood and began, “At the time that the facility in Zurich was raided, Karkaroff was arranging a deal for the artifact we retrieved. But In order to find out who the buyer was we put out an offer from your alias, Agent Flynn, making it appear as if you stole the artifact at the same time as you disappeared. We got a reply from Sloane.”

 

“When is the meeting?” Saoirse asked.

 

“Tomorrow afternoon in Dublin,” Jack Bristow answered. He unwarily met Saoirse’s gaze. “You’ll exchange a replica of the artifact.”

 

“Pardon me for asking,” Flynn began, “But exactly what is this artifact?”

 

“This,” Vaughn said. An image flashed on the monitors.

 

It appeared to be the same disc Saoirse seen Sloane buy.

 

“Another one?” She asked. “I thought Rambaldi would be more original.”

 

“It holds a code,” Jack Bristow continued. “Several months ago we retrieved a code from a music box containing a disc similar to this. We are yet to figure out what is held on this one though.”

 

“So I give the replica to Sloane?” Saoirse replied. “Aren’t you trying to catch this guy?”

 

“Well, um, yeah that’s why…” Marshall began. “See the replica is a tracking device, so wherever it goes we can…umm, track it.”

 

“Flynn, the further purposes of this mission are not your concern,” Kendall said. “After this you’re returning to London.”

 

“I see,” Saoirse remarked. “Anything else?”

 

Kendall glanced at Jack. “Irina Derevko has refused to provide any possible intel for this mission until she speak with you.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse stared down the corridor in front of her. The bars started to rise along the hall.

 

She started walking slowly. The glass walls of the cell became visible. She stopped for a moment. Emotions flared in her mind, but she made herself continue.

 

The woman in the cell looked up as Saoirse entered. Derevko sat cross-legged on the bunk reading a book. She stood and put the book down. She walked as close to the glass as she could and gazed at Saoirse. After a moment a warm smile came to her lips. "I never thought I would see you again."

 

Saoirse looked away to avoid Irina's piercing gaze. She realized she was crying. It was no use hiding it. She only stared back at Irina. "Until yesterday I had no idea who you were."

 

Irina smiled. "You look just like my mother. She was a beautiful woman." Her expression changed. "How did they find you? No one knew you existed."

 

Saoirse glanced down the hall. "I think you know that, otherwise I wouldn’t be here."

 

"It seems not one of us has been able to escape this life," Irina mused. “But I assume you didn’t study spy skills in college.”

 

“Psychology,” Saoirse replied.

 

“Saoirse,” Irina said. “You should know I never wanted to leave you.”

 

“Life forces us to make decisions,” Saoirse replied.

 

* * * *

 

“The days of my childhood are returning,” Saoirse said as she looked out the plane window at the city below.

 

“You grew up here, right?” Weiss asked.

 

Saoirse shook her head. “I was in Galway until I was seven, then my father’s work took us to London. My mother was English, so she was happier there near her family. But we would always visit Dublin at least once a year no matter where we were living. I just hope I don’t run into anyone I know.”

 

“We’re only here for a few hours,” Weiss replied. “Don’t worry.”

 

* * * *

 

Saoirse sat at the café table drinking a cup of coffee. “Any sign of him yet?” She asked Weiss over the comm.

 

“No, Flynn,” Weiss replied from his post outside. “Relax. Why are you so worried?

 

“I used to come here,” Saoirse replied. “[i]That’s[/i] why I’m so worried.”

 

“Well, relax,” Weiss replied. “Wait, he’s coming. Prepare to act Russian again.”

 

Saoirse glanced up as Sloane entered the café.

 

Sloane smiled. “It’s nice to see you again, Anya. If you don’t mind I’ve found a more private room in the back.”

 

“Of course,” Saoirse said with her Russian accent. She stood and followed him.

 

“So what have you been up to since you left Karkaroff?” Sloane asked as they entered a small office in the back of the café. He closed the door and sat down.

 

Saoirse sat down across the table from him. “Mr. Sloane it is hardly your affair to pry into my life.”

 

“Really?” Sloane replied with a grin. He flipped open the briefcase he carried and turned it to her. “Does this satisfy your demands?”

 

“For the artifact,” Saoirse nodded. She removed a small case from her purse and opened it. “How is this?”

 

“I see the artifact is in good condition,” He replied. “You will wait a moment, Miss Melnikov, while we check the validity of the artifact?” Sloane asked, yet it seemed more of an order.

 

“Mr. Sloane, the artifact is genuine. Unless Dmitri was in possession of a fake, then there’s no point,” Saoirse replied.

 

“That is exactly what I am checking for,” Sloane replied. He spoke into a hidden microphone. “Mr. Sark, would you join us?” He turned back to Saoirse. “I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again. Have we met before?”

 

“No,” Saoirse replied. She knew why he was asking her though. Sydney had worked for him only a few months before.

 

“Well, since you’ve left Karkaroff’s organization I assuming you need a job. Would you consider working for me?” Sloane asked.

 

“No,” She replied sternly.

 

The door opened and a blonde man entered. He sported a smirk and met Saoirse’s gaze.

 

“Mr. Sark,” Sloane said. “This is Anya Melnikov.”

 

Saoirse was transfixed on the young man. Her mouth opened partway, lips fumbling to compose a word.

 

Finally, she managed. “Daire?”

* * * *

 

“What is that Russian?” Sark asked. He smirked. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Melnikov.” He gave her a side-glance as if to say ‘Play along’.

 

Saoirse only nodded quietly, attempting to conceal her apparent shock. Her gaze followed him intently as he picked up the artifact. After a moment he nodded to Sloane.

 

“It’s the same, Sir,” Sark said. “This young lady seems to have a rather bright future ahead of her if she can manage to get her hands on valuable items such as this.”

 

Sloane smiled and closed the case. “Well, our business it done, Anya, my offer is still open. I certainly hope you will give it some consideration. You know where to contact me.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Sloane,” Saoirse answered aware that Sark still had his eye on her. She slowly stood and walked out of the café.

 

She had gotten no further than the street corner when she finally broke down. She sat down on a bench and wiped at her tears.

 

“Hey, Flynn? You okay?” Weiss’ voice asked over the radio.

 

“Remember what I said about recognizing someone?” Saoirse whispered. She could hardly talk over her shock. “I know the man who was with Sloane.”

 

“Do you now?” The voice made her jump. “I would suggest you remove that earpiece and whatever mike you have concealed in your clothing.” She felt a gun pressing into her back and a familiar hand settling on her shoulder.

 

Saoirse took a glance at him. His gaze was in no way sympathetic.

 

“Now, Love,” Sark demanded.

 

Saoirse brushed back her hair and removed her earpiece. A moment later she slowly took off the necklace she wore and place both articles in his waiting hand.

 

“Now get up,” He continued.

 

Saoirse got up and turned to him. “Daire, what are you doing?”

 

“Saving your life,” He said simply. He glanced down the street and quickly pulled her into a passionate kiss.

 

For a moment Saoirse forgot everything. This was the man she loved. Then the reality hit her again as their lips parted. She gazed into his blue eyes. “You work for Sloane.”

 

“What a keen observation, Love,” Sark replied. He put an arm around her shoulders. “I suggest we walk. And keep up your Russian.”

 

“I presume this is why you never made it to any of my corporate Christmas parties?” Saoirse asked as they started down the street.

 

“Something like that, Saoirse. I was always in fear that you would see my wanted poster somewhere,” He answered.

 

Saoirse pulled away, but his grip on her shoulder did not loosen. “I should turn you in right now!”

 

He smirked. “Not so fast, Love. Seeing as you are in no position to negotiate at this moment, I would rather you listen to me first. I need to know what you did to the Rambaldi artifact.”

 

“I did nothing to it,” Saoirse answered quietly. She glanced down the street and saw that they had turned a corner from the street where Weiss was waiting in the van. She had to get away.

 

“No, Love, it can’t be that simple,” Daire remarked.

 

“Fan glan amach uaim!” [i]Stay away from me![/i] She snapped and stepped away from him, though her hand was still in his. “What do you want from me?”

 

Sark smiled. “Well, I obviously cannot release you. You’d go straight to your superiors and help them hunt down a wanted terrorist who just happens to be your boyfriend,” He laughed. “The only other option is one I would rather not take.”

 

“You would kill me,” Saoirse answered him.

 

He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. His lips were mere inches from hers. “Unlike you, Love, I was attempting to avoid using that word,” He breathed. “But…there is another option. I believe Sloane offered you a job. Would you accept it?”

 

“I won’t sink as low as you have,” Saoirse replied quietly.

 

“Then, Saoirse, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do to help you,” He said slyly. His smirk faded to an almost solemn frown. “I’m sorry.”

 

At his last words she felt something prick her neck and then she knew nothing.

 

* * * *

 

The world was shadows. The only light in sight was from a hidden source somewhere far away. Saoirse saw the faces of her family: her father, her mother, and her siblings. Someone else was there though. Hidden indeed, but there.

 

A sudden sense of dread hit her heart. She was crying out for someone. “No! A Mham! Ná h-imigh!”

 

Her dread grew and the shadows faded. “No!”

 

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, burying her face in her hands as the tears flowed down her cheeks. Soon enough she stopped as she realized where she was. She was sitting on a cot in the corner of a small room. The gray concrete walls seemed to be closing in on her in the dim light. There was a single door with a small window. Instinctively, she tried to turn the doorknob. It was locked sure enough. She looked out the window, but the hallway outside was pitch-black. Her thoughts fled to what had gotten her here. She only remembered him. And how he had betrayed her.

 

She stayed by the door for a few moments, gazing into nothing. After a while she went and sat back down on the cot. Was there someway she could break down the door? It was clearly the only way out, eliminating the all-too-small ventilation duct that was overhead. Something suddenly caught her eye. There was a small security camera in the corner of the room. An instant after she glanced at it the door opened.

 

Daire Sark came into the cell and closed the door behind him. His blue eyes met her gaze and he tried to smile, but the smirk he had put on in front of Sloane was far out of reach. His gaze swept over her form. He shook his head. “I never knew you to have nightmares. Then maybe you’re a bit sensitive to the drugs.”

 

“You’ve been out of my life for a while,” Saoirse replied. “I could have changed.”

 

“I doubt that, Love,” Sark replied. He sighed. “It doesn’t surprise me that you work for Intelligence. Your father did, I knew that much. And you’re definitely smart enough for it.”

 

“Yet stupid enough to be fooled by you,” Saoirse quipped. “Sloane must have been desperate.”

 

Sark shook his head. “No, Love, I work for a colleague of his. I’m just under his employment until my actual employer is extracted. You might be familiar with her.”

 

“Her?” Saoirse asked. Her head dropped. There was only one ‘her’ she could think of.  Saoirse brushed the hair back from her face and looked up at him. “You work for The Man.”

 

“That is my employer,” Sark replied.

 

“I…” Saoirse’s words were consumed by sobs as she let her head hang in her hands.

 

A moment later she felt a hand on her shoulder. He lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Saoirse, I love you. That was not a lie among the many that I may have told you. That’s part of the reason you’re still alive.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

 

Saoirse moved away from him and glared. “I thought I knew you.”

 

“Saoirse,” he soothed. “You do know me.”

 

“I have reason to believe that you are already working for someone else,” Sark continued. “The gun you were carrying was most definitely not standard issue for your organization. You were working for the Central Intelligence Agency. A friend of mine with that group carries just the same model. You wouldn’t happen to know her would you? Sydney Bristow?”

 

Saoirse shook her head. “No. I’ve never met anyone by that name.”

 

“Love, you’re a terrible liar,” he declared. “Like the time you tried to hide that dent you put in my car door. I would have forgiven you quite easily if you had just told me outright.”

 

“You’re a bloody fool!” Saoirse shouted. She turned away.

 

“Love,” Sark said and reached for her hand, only to see her fist coming at his face. He reeled back and fell on the cot. Her covered his face with a hand and looked up at her. “I think that’s going to leave a bruise.”

 

“Better that it does,” Saoirse remarked. “Seems to be the only way you remember things.”

 

“You do know her,” Daire stood still flinching slightly as he felt his face. “Why so sensitive to the subject though?”

 

She simply crossed her arms and turned away from him.

 

“Saoirse,” Sark approached her. “I’m going to need at least a bit of your cooperation in this if you wish to stay alive.”

 

Not looking back at him she spoke, “You said your love for me was [i]part[/i] of the reason I’m still alive. What’s the other part?”

 

“Quite simple really,” Sark replied. “But I’m not about to inform you of it.”

 

“Then you have just another prisoner,” She replied quietly. She turned and stepped past him to sit down on the cot. At no point did she glance up.

 

A moment later she heard the door open and shut with the click of a lock. The light in the hall went out again.

 

* * * *

* * * *

Sydney walked into the Ops Center and found Vaughn. “What happened?”

 

“Flynn’s missing. Eric reported seeing Sark approach her. They walked off and she never came back,” Vaughn explained.

 

“Was there any evidence that she was forced?” Sydney asked.

 

Vaughn nodded. “We have the radio transcripts. He had a gun to her back.”

 

“Her cover must have been blown then,” Sydney replied. “Are we going to do anything?”

 

“We will if we know where to start,” Jack replied entering the conversation. “I’ve had Marshall activate the tracking device. It’s somewhere over the Pacific.”

 

“That would say where Sloane is, but how can we be sure she’s with him?” Vaughn replied.

 

“It is most likely that Sloane realized her parentage. I don’t know how else she could have been exposed,” Jack added.

 

“I should talk to Mom,” Sydney added. “She might know something.”

 

* * * *

 

“Saoirse’s missing,” Sydney said quietly. “She went on a mission to meet Sloane and just disappeared. We have reason to believe Sloane may have captured her.”

 

“Where was the meeting?” Irina asked.

 

“Dublin,” Sydney replied. “Mom, do you know anything?”

 

Irina shook her head. “I can’t say that I do.”

 

“Sark was there,” Sydney continued. “He used to work for you.”

 

Derevko’s eyes lit and she let out a long breath. “Did she leave behind any personal items? Her wallet, anything?”

 

“Yes. Why?” Sydney questioned.

 

“Check it,” Irina told her daughter. “I think I know who took her.”

 

* * * *

 

“We’re not exactly supposed to be touching this stuff,” Vaughn added as he looked over Sydney’s shoulder as she rifled through the envelope filled with her sister’s belongings. There were apartment keys, chapstick, even her cell phone. Finally, Sydney found a wallet. She opened the leather pocket and flipped through the card stack.

 

“Did your mother say what to look for?” Vaughn asked.

 

“No,” Sydney replied. “She said she need confirmation for-“ Her fingers froze as she flipped the stack over to a photograph. “Oh, my God!”

 

“What?” Vaughn asked. He glanced at the image. “Holy…”

 

The photo was of a smiling Saoirse wearing a sun dress. A man was standing behind her with his arms around her entwined with her hands. It was his face that shocked them.

 

* * * *

 

“She knows Sark!” Sydney exclaimed as she approached the glass of her mother’s cell. “Did you know this?”

 

Irina shook her head. “I had a feeling. Sark on one occasion happened to mention his girlfriend, but I never saw a photo.”

 

“Will he hurt her?” Sydney asked.

 

“No,” Irina replied. “He wouldn’t dare.”

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because he loves her.”

 

As sickening as that thought was to Sydney, she merely brushed it aside and went back to the real matter. “Do you know where he is?”

 

“There is one place he would take her,” Her mother answered. “He has an estate outside of the city. I haven’t been there, but I can give you the address.”

 

* * * *

 

Flynn sat with her knees pulled to her chest. The cell was freezing. She had exhausted every possible escape attempt, only to settle with playing along for a while. Her metal hair clip and earrings were gone, but it was not as if she could have picked the lock from the inside either way. She closed her eyes and hugged her arms around her knees, burying her chin on them. She glanced at the camera, knowing he was probably watching her.

 

“That’s not quite going to work this time, seeing as I’m standing right here.”

 

Saoirse jumped at his sudden presence. He unlocked the door and stepped in. He was holding a thin fleece blanket. “Thought you might need this.”

 

“How kind of you,” She said with a self-evident tone of sarcasm. “Remind me to mark you on my Christmas list.”

 

“Love, must you be so disagreeable?” He questioned. He held out the blanket. When she made no move to take it shook his head. He stepped closer and knelt in front of her. “You’re only making this more difficult.”

 

“I can make it even more so,” She replied leaning forward. She captured her lips with his and for a moment there was nothing, but their passion. She pulled away. “I thought I loved you.”