Alias- Jack & Laura

4) Accident

"Irina Derevko," the unfamiliar man said as he entered the hotel room.

Irina raised her eyebrows. "And who might you be?"

"Don't you wish to speak your native language?" he asked in Russian.

"I wouldn't want to go home to my husband with an accent," she answered, also in Russian.

The man smiled, placed the brown paper bag he was carrying on the small table, and sat down. "Igor Valenko is dead," he said in accented English as he removed a glass bottle and a martini glass from the bag. "I am Leon Volsky. I'll be your new handler." He poured from the bottle into one of the martini glasses and handed it to her.

She took the glass and sipped. "What happened?" she asked.

"He was nearly captured by the CIA," Volsky said. "He was shot and killed trying to escape them."

Arvin Sloane, listening through the bug at CIA headquarters, smiled. Their attempt to make it seem that Valenko had never been captured had been successful.

"Is my cover safe?" Irina said, continuing to sip the martini.

"There is no reason for it not to be. Tell me, why the martinis?"

"My husband thinks I'm having drinks with friends."

"Jack Bristow, CIA agent," Volsky said. "You have been married how long?"

"Ten years."

"A very long time to stay undercover. Do you wish to be extracted?"

Irina was silent for a moment as she took two sips of the martini. "He suspects nothing. I am still providing much valuable information to the KGB." This was the point when she should have mentioned the tail, but something stopped her.

"Yes. You have a child with this man?" Irina nodded. "That is highly irregular."

"It was an accident. I forgot to take my pill while Bristow was out of town; he returned unexpectedly."

"I see. Since you are willing, your superiors wish you to remain undercover. Do you have any information for me tonight?" Irina passed him an envelope. "Good. I will contact you regarding our next meeting in the usual way." He packed up the bottle and glass and left. Irina checked the clock. Since she had plenty of time to get home tonight, she would wait twenty minutes.

Mark Dawson had arrived at CIA headquarters in time to hear the last half of the conversation; Arvin Sloane briefed him on what he had missed. Dawson had been thinking a lot about Laura Bristow over the past week, and had come up with a way that the situation might be able to work out to the CIA's advantage. "Activate Plan A," he said to Arvin.

Half an hour later, Irina was on her way home when a car suddenly pulled out directly into the back driver's side door of her car. She instinctively turned the wheel to the right, went a little too far, and drove the car into a tree. She screamed as pain exploded in her right leg; moments later, she passed out.

Jack Bristow had just put Sydney to bed when he was struck with a wave of uneasiness. Something's wrong with Laura, he thought. He tried to shake it off, telling himself that it was just a groundless hunch. Laura wasn't even late yet, if she had gone out with some of her friends from choir as she often did.

When forty minutes passed and Laura still wasn't home, Jack was sure something was wrong. When the doorbell rang, he had to force himself to go open the front door.

Arvin Sloane stood there. "Jack, I need you to get Sydney and come with me," he said.

"Something's happened to Laura," Jack whispered.

"I'm sorry, Jack…there's been an accident."