24
The Conspiracy
By moviefreak2004
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of 24 and am using them solely for entertainment purposes.
NOTE: There is no exact place in the 24 timeline where this takes place.
Last Update : Saturday, July 16th, 2005.
6:00 A.M. – 7:00 A.M.
The alarm clock chirped out its morning greeting and Jack Bauer groaned as he rolled over in bed. Damn. He had forgotten to reset it to a better time last night. 10:00 A.M. sounded a bit better. Maybe noon? It wasn't incredibly common for someone on vacation to wake up at such a early time.
Jack stretched out his arm to tap the Snooze button but by the time he reached it, he was fully awake. His experience with C.T.U. (Counter Terrorist Unit) had trained him to be this monster. This monster that never had to sleep. And whenever he tried to cure himself, some stupid thing always carried him back in.
An alarm clock. This was close to pathetic.
Jack slid his legs over the bed and he winced slightly as they touched the shag carpet. He stood up and stretched his arms for several seconds before proceeding to the bathroom. A quick shower followed and he brushed his teeth.
He didn't need much to eat so he gulped down a quick bagel with cream cheese. While eating, he turned his head to look out at the beach. The waves weren't that high today. Some couples and families were already there but mostly it was deserted.
Jack snapped up a cup of coffee and brought it to his lips. Mmm, hot but soothing.
He slid the glass door open and stepped onto the dry sand. His toes suddenly felt at ease and he wiggled them lazily.
Making his way down to the beach, Jack nodded at Alberto, the boat handler.
Jack dipped his toes into the cold, wet sand but felt comfortable. The water washed over his legs and he winced. But it was strangely good.
A little boy, around seven years of age, was running towards the water with pure glee. A girl, his sister Jack guessed, was following him.
Happiness...
Something Jack hadn't experienced for a long time. The only thing life had thrown at him in the past six months had been sorrow, death, and pain.
But not now, he warned himself.
Don't remind yourself.
This was his time to rest.
6: 04
The man in the black suit looked out of the window of the plane. The sun was slowly rising in the sky, a beautiful mix of red, yellow, and dark orange. It burned his eyes but he loved it. The rising of the sun signaled a new day. And a new day brought new adventures.
"Sir," a stewardess called him.
The man was jolted out of his reverie and he turned to face her.
"Coffee?" she asked. She was strikingly attractive. Not beautiful but she had her perks, the man thought.
"Um, yeah, sure."
"Cream?" she asked, her smile widening.
"No, black," he said plainly and smiled.
He didn't want her to think weirdly of him. She placed the coffee on his table and he nodded to her and looked back out of the window.
To accomplish today's goals, he needed to appear "normal". No suspicious activities unless they pertained to his mission.
The attendant was just a test. He could have wrung her neck for dragging him out of his dream but there were far too many people on the plane.
He knew his anger was uncontrollable. His mother had noticed it at a young age when, in an uncontrollable fit of rage, he had taken his teddy bear, which he had seemingly loved for months, and tore at its head until it ripped off. Later on in his life, he had begun getting into more violent acts. He was constantly in fights and was being expelled from every school. And then his mother, who he had despised all of his life, had taken him to that psychiatrist. He thought that that was the moment where he had finally snapped. The psychiatrist had told him that she understood him and his problems but he knew the truth. There was no person on this entire earth that understood how he felt, how much anger he felt when he woke up everyday to face a despicable world that had been covered in a blanket of fake happiness. At nineteen, he had murdered his mother with a small set of scissors that he had stole from the toolbox near her bed. She had screamed as he stabbed her but she didn't put up much of a struggle. When he finished he felt, surprisingly, an undescribable rush...almost a release of some of the anger he had kept deep inside him over the last decade. He knew he had to feel it again. So he killed and he killed and he killed. And that had eventually led him today. Today was a much larger operation and he knew that it would definitely be much more rewarding at the end. Today, everything was going to change. He was going to change it, along with the group of people he had hired, people who felt the exact same way. People who also wanted to leave this world with a blaze of glory. It was his job to lead them. He knew it was the purpose and meaning of his life.
So yes, he would watch the sun rise and sip his coffee. Until the moment that moment of greatness arrived. He knew it would come today and he was anticipating it with an unbelievable ecstasy. He couldn't wait. Ooh boy, he just could not wait.
6: 07
Despite the early time, C.T.U. Los Angeles was alive and buzzing with activity. Memos, papers, and folders were shuffled around quickly. The quick tapping of keyboards could be heard in the background, amidst several arguments.
Chloe O'Brian tried to concentrate, amidst all the mindless noise, on her new assignment. She groaned as a female voice called her name.
"Chloe! Can you help me with this?" it shouted.
"Hang on!" she cried back.
She furiously typed in several passwords to log in to the C.T.U. information database and then stood up. It was Laura Milton, the newest recruit of C.T.U, who still hadn't understood how important respect was here. But Chloe didn't bother to smirk; she had been in the exact same position several years ago.
"What do you need, Laura?" Chloe asked.
"How I get into this?"
Chloe sighed and briskly paced herself to Laura's desk.
Laura was in her early-twenties and had just graduated from some college further east. According to rumors, she had been so intelligent and vibrant at her interview that she had been hired right at the spot. She had yet to prove her work skills to Chloe.
"No, no, Laura, you're doing it all wrong. Here…" she offered her help.
Before Laura could reply, Chloe's hands were over the keyboard, typing away. In a couple seconds, everything was set. Laura looked at her curiously and then nodded.
"Thanks, I guess," she told Chloe, who had already left for her desk. Laura realized that Chloe hadn't even heard her. Oh well.
6: 09
Steven Fields glanced up from his breakfast to take a peek at his T.V. A familiarfemale weather reporter was pointing at a weather map.
Damn, Fields thought. There would be rain later today. That would make his operation slightly more challenging. But not impossible.
Impossible. Impossible was a word Fields despised with all his heart. He hated everything about it. People had often told him that his plans were impossible. His dreams were impossible.They had always left that dead silence at the end of the word to signal that they wanted to prove a serious point. But Steven never believed anything they said. The only person who believed in Steven Fields was himself. That gave him his determination.
Today, however, was the day when the world would realize just how much a single man could accomplish. They would be surprised, he smirked, when they realized it had been the person they least expected. The one they had shunned and laughed at for their entire lives.
He heard the loud clang of the doorbell. It painfully rang through his ears, distracting him. He switched off the TV, brushed his hair back, and walked to the front door. He looked through the keyhole to make sure it was who he expected it to be.
Then, he opened the door.
"Fields?" the brawny man in front of himasked. He was chewing a big wad of tobacco and had a menacing feel to him.
Fields nodded.
"It's time," he said.
"May I have a moment?" asked Fields.
"Yes, but hurry," the man said, spitting. He had adangerous tone to his voice.
As Fields walked through every room of his house, memories came flooding back into his mind. Some had happened a week before, others several decades ago. He guessed it would probably be the last time he ever remembered his memories. After all, in a few hours, he would most likely be dead.
Fields left his home without locking the door. It didn't really matter that much. It was a peaceful neighborhood and he didn't have too many things of value. Plus, it wasn't like he was ever going to be anywhere near his house again.
The shining sun and the recently watered grass and several of the young kids marching to their bus stops gave a sense of serenity to the morning. He used to think this world was beautiful. Now---
"What are you doing?" the driver asked as he climbed into the pickup truck.
Fields climbed into the passenger seat asit quietly rolled off the driveway. As they were leaving, Fields' neighbor, a woman Fields greatly detested, waved to him and he smiled back.
Deep inside, however, he didn't have a single feeling of warmth towards her. She would only be one of the many people to die today.
6: 13
Jack had finished his coffee and was now taking a quiet stroll down the beach. Over the past ten minutes, activity had slightly increased. The siblings he had witnessed while leaving the hotel room were still in the water, splashing at each other, laughing.
A teenager was riding a motor boat and several adults were surfing in the distance. The sun shone down on all of them, glinting across the water.
Jack kicked some sand and laughed. It was weird how humans could find humor in the moststupid of things.
He smiledkindly at a lady with her son. He was strangely reminded of Kim, even though she didn't have any resemblance to the kid. He had wanted to take her on a vacation sometime. A place like this, where was no threat of being kidnapped or tortured or killed.
Jack quietly swerved off the path to step into a small kitchen. He didn't really feel like eating but a waiter quickly ushered him into a table. Oh well, Jack thought. As long as it was peaceful and quiet, he didn't mind doing anything. He had worked a long time before he could find both the time and money to take a month-long vacation.
Jack did enjoy the peace but he also missed the rush of stress that he hadconstantly had felt while working for C.T.U. It somehow broughtmeaning into his life, a purpose for getting up each day. He had established a great deal of enemies and he was lucky that they were all either dead or rotting in jail and were unable to disturb him now.
The waiter, smiling, served a dish and Jack thanked him.
Relax, he told himself. Stop thinking about the past and focus on now.
The voices in his head were bickering now. They had been doing so for the last two weeks.
6: 15
Shannon Turner was preparing breakfast for herchildren. A nearby radio was playing light rock and she danced along and hummed quietly while she cooked.
Summer days were the best: the sun shining, the flowers in full bloom, and screams from swimming pools in the neighbors' yards echoing through her house. She loved it like this. Never a dull moment, when she thought about it.
Today would be a strenuous day for her, though. She would have to go shopping for groceries and do various errands. For the lucky rascals known as her kids, school was out and they were enjoying every single moment of it.
Ahh, this was the life.
She loaded several jars back into the refrigerator. If she worked quickly, she might return before they even woke up. She didn't want them wrecking havoc like they had done several days ago, raiding her personal drawers in search of money for ice cream.
They were tough to raise but she still loved them will all her heart.
Shannon carefully ran up the stairs and gave both of her children a good kiss goodbye before locking the door and leaving.
Just a regular day that would sprout many small problems. She sighed. She wouldn't have it any other way.
6: 19
The man in the black suit gazed at the small television above his seat. It was a computer display of the plane's course. Everything was on time; they would be arriving within the hour. So far, there had been no problems or delays in his plan. He loved when luck decided to visit him. It was funny how it could come in the worst times and make everything proper again. Luck was something that he would desperately call upon today to help him. Heck, he reconsidered, he would probably give up all his workers and partners in exchange for endless luck.
There was an old woman sitting in the seat near him, reading a magazine. As he had hoped, she hadn't uttered a single word to him since the flight had started. The eight-hour flight had even given him a chance to catch up on some sleep he needed.
The sun was now shining brightly through his windows, illuminating his face. The plane sailed through a display of crouds, occasionally dipping below and giving a quick peek at the ocean below them. He-
"Excuse me," the lady said, trying to spark his attention.
"Yes?" the man asked, not caring at all.
"Would you mind closing the shade? The sunlight is hurting my eyes," she requested plainly as her eyes met his.
He wanted to scream "No!" in her face, pull out his gun, and send her brains splattering all over the plane. Choking down the remark, he grinned, revealing his perfect white teeth.
"Of course. I'm sorry," he remarked and pulled down the shade. Like a perfect gentleman..
"Thank you," she said and turned her back to the magazine.
Good, the man thought. Nothing had come of it. Now---
"I'm Fran," she introduced herself, stretching out her wrinkledhand. She was old, he decided. At least eighty or so. Herhead was covered in a bush of white air and she carried a small black purse by her side.
The man hid his anger and shook her hand.
"Bob," he lied.
"Nice to meet you, Bob. Are you here on business or pleasure?"
The man thought it was actually pretty ironic.
"Both," he answered calmly.
"That's interesting," she said. "I'm here to spend the summer with my daughter."
"Really?" he asked, trying to reveal interest.
"Yes, she says Los Angeles is best during this time of year."
"Oh ok," he tried to finish the conversation.
"Have you been here before?" she asked.
My god, woman, will you ever just shut up!, the man wondered.
"No, I haven't," he lied again.
"Me neither. I'm looking forward to it."
He nodded and turned back toward the window.
"What do you do?" she asked.
He was boiling now. His cheeks had become a shade of red. He felt his hand curl into a fist and he hid it from her view, stuffing it into the small crack near his shit.
"I'm a company--," he started.
Quick, make up something.
"Well, uh, I just go around securing deals and such," he finished.
"Oh, that sounds interesting. You like it?"
"Yes, I do. Very much."
"I've been retired for several years now, Bob."
Is she annoying me on purpose?
"Good for you," he said, a slight bit of anger in his voice.
He was almost certain that she had sensed it. Who did this woman think she was?
"My husband passed away several years ago…," she whispered into his ear.
He groaned. It was going to be a long flight.
6: 23
Laura Milton's phone rang unexpectedly. She reached over and picked it up.
"Hel," she started but didn't get a chance to speak.
"This is Agent Powers. I managed to implant a tracking device on a car but it has escaped my sight. I need you to trace it through Server 2 and give me the coordinates. And keep me updated, damn it."
Laura was in shock for a moment.
"Hello?" the agent cried. "I need a response now!"
"Chloe!" Laura raised her voice.
"What?" a cry came from the other side of the room.
"How do I get into Server 2?"
"You can't. It's a code word!Oh, screw it."
Chloe was already running over and Laura felt herself sweating. She had gotten herself an unbeatable education, had received honors in all her classes, and had nailed this job on the spot…and she couldn't perform the most basic of tasks. She even knew that she could do it, but somehow some fear or nervousness always stopped her. She couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.
"Look," Chloe said. "I can't always be helping you like this, Laura. I have my own job to do."
"I know, Chloe. I'm really sorry. It won't happen again," Laura responded.
"Good. Because if it does, I'm going to have to report to the Director."
Chloe walked back to her desk and Milton shook her head in bewilderment. What was happening with her?
6: 26
Peter Walker, security advisor to the President of the United States, slowly strolled through the barely lit hallway. No one was here at this time of morning except the security guards. He had had no problem getting past them.
There were dozens of rooms on both sides. Rooms thathadheld secrets and lies for at least fifty years, probably more. Walker was slightly frightened himself as he walked by each and every door. Here was the United States' history, all hidden in folders and drawers. Compromises, treaties, pacts.
Today, history would be made. Peter Walker would take part in it. He had to admit he was greatly anticipating it, had anticipated it every night for the last couple of months. He strongly believed in what he was going to do. And nobody could stop him.
He arrived at his destination: Room 362. He twisted the knob and, surprisingly, found it open. Most of the room was dusty and dark.It consisted mainly of overturned tables and computers. Peter revealed a flashlight. Soon, he was sneezing heavily. He searched under every crack and crevice until he found the cabinet. It was awfully heavy, he thought.
The top drawer contained nothing of value. Neither did the second. He opened the third…perfect! The folder was right there, unidentifiable amongst the others. A big red CONFIDENTIAL had been stamped on it.
He snatched it up and carried it out of the room. It was illegal and could land him in jail, he knew. Maybe, under the worstconditions, he could even be killed. But when he weighed the risks against the rewards, he knew that it was the right thing to do.
6: 30
The pickup truck was reaching 70 miles per hour on the highway. Steven Fields was staring through the passenger window. It was so…plain. Just cars in front and behind him. It was exactly like this everyday. He hated this world. But he suddenly felt a tingle of regret. Did this really have to happen…?
RING!
Fields gasped suddenly, surprised. It was his cell phone. He pulled out of his pocket and put it to his ear.
"Yes?"
"Fields?" a familiar voice asked.
"Yeah, it's me," he answered.
"Did Red pick you up?"
Fields looked over to the beefy man driving the truck.
"Yeah."
"So everything's on plan?"
"Apparently."
"Good. He'll drive you to the lab. That's where your part of the job begins."
"I understand."
"I'll try not to call you too much. You should do the same. Only if it's an emergency. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Fields closed his phone and placed it back in his pocket.
"How much longer?" he asked Red.
"Probably an hour. Early morning traffic is a bit of delay."
"OK."
Fields turned back to the window. The sun was shining brightly. It was almost relaxing to look at it. A minivan passed by and he saw several kids jumping happily in it. This didn't have to happen, he thought. What had he gotten himself into?
6: 34
The swimming pool had just been opened and Jack had seized his opportunity to swim before more people arrived. Even if he was on vacation, he still had to stay in shape. Jack was very fit for his age and looked five years younger than he actually was. During many of his previous missions, he had almost destroyed his body. He forced himself to go through this rigorous training so he could complete challenges easily in the future. While in the water, Jack found himself quietly slipping away. His thoughts always lingered somewhere else. He often found himself reminded of Kim. She had loved splashing water at him as a child. But thoughts of Kim also reminded him of the stress and sheer fear he had experienced when she was in trouble. So he forced Kim out of his mind. Vacations weren't really made for him. In fact, none of his friends had recommended him going; he had made the decision completely by himself. He felt that it was the right time in his life to forget reality. He hadnever regretted becoming a C.T.U. agent. Swimming was part of his repetitive daily routine amd he was getting used to doing it every day.
The biggest lesson he had learned from his experience as a counter-terrorism agent was to expect the unexpected. Today would be the day when he realized just how true that was.
6: 36
Shannon Turner paced through the aisles of the 24-hour supermarket, picking up cereals and snacks for the kids.
Outside of the store, people were already setting up several activity booths with lots of those "Spin the Wheel, Win a Prize" games where what you paid to play cost more than the prize you won. Shannon laughed.
She made her way through the grain aisle and picked up some bread for the kids. She needed to get away herself for once. She loved her kids but she needed some time to herself.
Hmm…maybe a knight in shining armor would arrive and sweep her away.
6: 39
Peter Walker had managed to leave the records building without any of the guards checking him. The document was hidden safely in his suitcase. He doubted anyone would bother to search each and every room when a single document went missing.
Peter crossed into an alley where nobody could see him and began dialing his cell phone.
6: 42
"Attention, passengers," the captain's voice came through the speakers. "The plane will be landing shortly. Make sure your seatbelts are fastened and secure. Once we have landed, I will advise you how to exit the plane. Thank you for flying our airline. We hope you've enjoyed your flight and we look forward to seeing you again."
Fran had, luckily, quieted down a bit in the past twenty minutes but she still said something useless occasionally.
The man in the black suit had reopened the shade and now spotted the airport. It was bigger than he had expected.
"Beautiful, huh?" Fran asked.
"Sure," the man mindlessly agreed.
"Do you know any good places to eat? Just from guides?"
"Well, maybe a few. There's this Italian restaurant I like," he said, trying to fight her off.
She turned back to her magazine and she continued reading for several seconds. Then, her eyes filled with wonder as she realized something important andturned back to him.
"Bob?" she tried to capture his attention.
"Yes, Fran?"
"I thought you said you've never been to Los Angeles."
Bob groaned. He had messed up. A stupid mistake. He cursed under his breath.
"Well…" he started.
"Attention, all passengers. The plane is now landing. Please make sure to close your tables to lean back."
The men breathed in heavily as he felt the air pressure drop. Saved. Luck. He knew he was so close to failure. This couldn't happen again.
6: 43
Red swerved into an exit and Steven Fields was jerked out of his dream.
"LAX?" he inquired.
"Yeah. We have to pick up someone."
"Oh. Ok," Steven replied.
6: 55
The man in the black suit watched his bags shoot out of the chute. He quickly grabbed them before anybody could investigate them and was about to exit when he realized he had forgotten to do one thing.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he entered the woman's bathroom. Fran stood in front of a mirror, applying lipstick and brushing her hair. Otherwise, the bathroom was empty.
The man locked the bathroom door and nimbly hid behind a stall before Fran could spy him. She stood staring in wonder for several seconds and then turned back to the mirror and zipped her purse.
She stepped into the stall and was about to lock it when the man in the black suit made his move.
Out of his bag, he revealed a long black wire. Stealthily sneaking up, he tossed the rope around Fran's neck and pulled with all his strength. She wasn't expecting it and she gasped as the air was whisked from her lungs.
"Ahh…," she groaned.
She couldn't even see him. He was enjoying every second, every moment of this.
He was experiencing a high like never before as she choked and gurgled. Then, she coughed, desperately seeking air. But he wouldn't let her breathe. He tied another circle around her throat and pulled harder. He had cut her pretty deep; dark red blood was oozing from her neck, destroying her white sweater. She fell to her knees, gasping. For several seconds, she made ugly retching sounds. And then she stopped breathing. Her body became rigid and motionless. The man in the black suit dropped her head and it fell onto the toilet seat.
He knew it was probably a big mistake to leave her like this. It had been a big mistake killing her in the first place. But she had been such a bitch.
He left the bathroom and exited the airport. Red and Steven were waiting for him. Perfect. They were on time.
"Hey, boss," Red said. "Need help with your bags?"
"Nah."
He loaded them into the back of the pickup and climbed into the backseat.
"Did Walker call you?"
"Yes, a couple of minutes ago. He got the documents."
"When will his flight arrive?"
"He said four hours."
"That's good."
Red stared blankly at him for a moment.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Move it along," the man in the black suit said.
The car rolled out of the parking lot. The man smiled. So far, everything was going according to plan.