Turmoil

NRPG: This is mostly introspective. It does nothing to further the plot… Then again, who knows, maybe it does. ;) Anyway, here's Zenya's reaction to the news.

btw, I tried to send this out last night, but my computer was acting all wonky (yet again). I mention this only because if the problem is what I think it is, I might be off line for a little while until I can get it fixed/replaced. Won't be long, though - I don't think I can survive more than a couple days without a computer. :)

RPG:

[MD1, 11:00PM]

>Leo told Zenya that he'd take their car and listen in >on their walkie-talkie and follow her to the lodge. >Before he was able to turn to get into the other car, >Zenya grabbed his arm and asked, "Who's Docker?"

>"A mutual enemy, I assure you." Leo said, "I need >to check something on the Ops database. If you >want, I'll show you the records we kept on that case, >but only if you want to. If not, I need to make sure >of something before I tell you about Docker."

>Zenya nodded and got into the Taurus. Leo then >turned and went into the car with the Washington >DC plates and followed her up to the lodge >without further incident.

Mercifully, the streets had begun to clear of the infamous Boston traffic and although the weather forecast earlier in the day had called for snow, the sky was clear. Leading the way to the lodge, Zenya turned the radio on as loud as she could stand it and after a few minutes of searching, found a station playing an aria from some opera or another. Normally, it would not have been her choice of music. Actually, she hated opera. It was an art form, she thought, where even the most tender love song could sound harsh and cruel, where the words and music, punctuated with an almost violent sharpness, painted a picture of death and despair and the impossibility of a happy ending. And sometimes, listening to it just made her feel better.

As they neared the lodge, she found that it wasn't working this time. Not only was it not taking her mind off the things she had just learned, it was making matters worse. She was angry, but found that she had no place to direct the anger. This Docker, whoever he was, was nothing more than a name to her, and it was difficult to focus anger on something as intangible as a name. The drive had given her too much time to think, she decided. Her mind was playing games with the scraps of information she had, speculating, twisting and distorting what she now knew to fit some paranoid fantasy. Finding out what had happened had been her holy grail, a truth she was sure she would never find, and though it had been a driving force in her life, she had really done very little to search out the answers, in part because she always feared that in the end, the blame would not lie with the person who planted the bomb, nor with those who sent the assassin. She feared that the blame would lie squarely on her father's shoulders, that his actions had made the result inevitable.

As she finally reached the turnoff to the lodge, Zenya decided that she really didn't want to know, that it was all ancient history and no longer mattered. By the time she pulled to a stop in front of the long, low building where the rest of the team was already waiting, she had changed her mind, determined to face whatever Leo could tell her. Lost in her own inner battle, she almost missed the expressions on the face of her colleagues when Leo parked the commandeered vehicle next to the Taurus.

"Would one of you care to explain what's going on," Jordan asked before they were even out of the cars.

Leo briefly reported what had happened, to Zenya's relief leaving out the details of conversation.

A few minutes later, the luggage was unpacked and piled in a corner of the lodge's common area. Zenya realized that she hadn't thought to ask Lydia if the place was furnished, but fortunately it was, though sparsely. One by one, everyone found a seat and started looking at each other, the big question hanging in the air - What do we do now?

"We've got to contact 'Carol'," Martin said.

"You aren't really thinking of turning the device over to her," Tom asked. "We have no idea who she's working for."

"Whoever they are, they have Emily."

"We have to negotiate with them, Tom," Jordan said. "At least keep them talking until we can find out who we're dealing with."

Zenya tuned out the conversation, too distracted for the moment to have anything useful to contribute. She sighed and stood up. "I'm going outside to get some air," she announced, shooting a glance at Leo, but not waiting for his reaction before heading out the door.

Leo followed a moment later. As soon as he pulled the door shut, Zenya turned abruptly and landed a right hook to his solar plexus. His reaction was thoroughly dissatisfying, almost no reaction at all, but Zenya had intended to make a point rather than inflict any pain.

"That's for not telling me sooner," she said. When he started to say something, she held up a hand to stop him. "The only thing I want to hear right now is that you had nothing to do with it."

"You already know that."

Zenya searched his face for any hint of deception, never really thinking she would find any, but needing to rid herself of the irrational suspicions that had crept into her mind. Finally she nodded. "All right. Thank you for not telling everyone."

Leo shook his head. "I'm no more anxious to talk about it than you are."

"Assuming we survive this situation, you *are* going to talk about, because I want to know everything," she said. She managed to keep her voice just above a whisper, but still convey the point that if no one else were within hearing distance, she would be yelling. It didn't help that Leo smiled, or that as a result she realized that she was behaving rather childishly. Under the circumstances, she figured she had every right to throw a bit of a temper tantrum if she wanted to, without anyone else expressing an opinion in the matter.

"I said I would tell you and I will. Now or later is up to you. But there's something else we should talk about." Zenya's reaction told him that she understood instantly.

"The laws of random chance would make it very unlikely that you and I would ever even meet, not to mention end up working together."

"Exactly. Which suggests that someone somewhere arranged it for a reason. Whatever that reason is, I doubt either of us would like it very much." He paused for a moment, debating the next question. "How much do you really know about the things your father was involved in?"

"Nothing," Zenya said automatically and with practiced sincerity, then shook her head. "I know he was playing both ends against the middle, and that he had a lot of enemies on both sides of the Iron Curtain who wanted him out of the way. The fact that you were sent to protect him… Well, forgive me if I say that seems a little unlikely. Those may have been your orders, but they obviously weren't everyone's orders."

Leo nodded slowly. "There are probably a few people who would come after you just for knowing that much."

"I've never told anyone," she said in response to the unasked question. She relaxed a bit, as if a just a small part of a heavy burden had been lifted. "He used to say that there is no problem so complex that it can't be solved over a good bottle of vodka. Too bad we don't have one, huh?"

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Sydnie Kathryn MacElroy
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alternate

SA1 Kate Calloway, X-Files, DELTA
SA3 Zenya Gorky, X-Files, ZULU
Fianna Nikal, Kal-Dixas Spaceport
(visit the DELTA archive )

Linguae quae genera distincta non habent inuriam faciunt feminis.

"It may not be apparent, but I am often amused with human behavior."