The following is a preview for my story "24 Catalyst." It takes place approximately a year and a half after the events of season 9 on the day of the Connecticut Presidential Primary. Keith Palmer is running for President and Kate Morgan is the head of the tactical team of CTU: New York. As for Jack Bauer, he plays an interesting role in the story. I should have all of 12: a.m. to 1 a.m. completed by Saturday.
24: Catalyst
by Tristan Mason
The Following Takes Place Between 12 a.m. and 1 a.m.
On the day of the Connecticut Presidential Primary
12:00 A.M.
Mike Novick steps out onto the tenth-story balcony of a hotel, staring down into the darkened streets of Hartford. He wonders how a city full of lights could feel so empty. A group of men stumble down the street with alcohol in brown paper bags. The men smash the bottles through the windows of a parked car, laugh and scurry away. He hears the glass doors slide open behind him, but doesn't turn around. After inhaling his cigarette, Novick lets the smoke filter through his lungs and smiles into the distance.
"I know you're worried, Keith. You have an enormous legacy to follow and you feel the need to convince the country that you're not a man who lives in fear. You wear the same mask that your father and uncle did many years ago."
"Can you honestly blame me?"
Keith Palmer digs his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket and waits for Novick to respond. He can't remember how long he has been on the campaign trail, but recalls with ease the number of times he dreamed about dying. It's always the same dream too. Surrounded by family, he dies by choking on his own vomit with his father's enemies looming in the corner. Novick knows about these dreams, but doesn't seem to care.
"I can. No one forced you to become a senator and run for office. I admire your courage, intelligence and leadership, but sometimes I feel it's a bit misplaced."
"I'm not going to hide, Mike and I am not a continuation of my father or uncle's legacy. I have my own vision for this country."
"I know you won't," Novick replies, fidgeting with his tie. When he turns around, he stares into Keith's fading brown eyes and notices the crows feet beneath them. "I was your father's chief of staff though and as yours, I'd be naive not to be fearful every once in awhile."
"If you're referring to what happened with the man in Old Lyme this morning, you are naive. The news report said he was the carrier of a virus and the authorities are investigating. It happened miles away and has nothing to do with my campaign."
"We have to be weary of any crises that happen while you're in the state, even if they happen miles away. If the threat is not contained, we will have to move you out of the state."
Keith nods and checks the news story on his phone. He finds several articles with no more than more than a few sentences f information. After a moment, he stumbles on an article with a title that reads, "Governor Malley Calls CTU: New York To Investigate Possible Terrorist Threat." His upper lip trembles as he shows Novick the story. The words "terrorist threat" do not make him feel as numb as he thought they would.
"An eyewitness sent in an image of the man too. It's blurry, but I can't help and feel as if I know him."
Keith and Novick can only distinguish the blond, receding hairline of the man, but they sigh and inhale in almost perfect unison. Novick pulls out his phone and walks into the suite room. Keith stares at the image for a few moments, trying to make sense of it. The man stands in front of a seaside cafe with several bodies scattered around him. The eyewitness recounted the people collapsing within seconds of the man's arrival. Several other people were unaffected. Many ran away while only a few attended to the victims. He didn't smell any foul odors in the air. By the time the eyewitness looked for the man, he disappeared.
"I'm going to notify Cole Ortiz. He's the head of the New York branch now."
"I'll be honest, Mike," Keith says, digging his hands deeper in his jacket. "I have reservations about CTU investigating this matter. As a unit, they are historically incompetent. The government wants its officials and citizens to believe that CTU can protect this nation from terrorism when they can't even protect their own headquarters from terrorist infiltration. How many moles have contributed to the deaths of innocent civilians?"
Novick places a firm hand on Keith's shoulders. "When you're the president, Mr. Palmer, I will stand behind you if you decide to shutdown CTU and launch an investigation on their alleged corruption. But as long as CTU is in charge of this investigation, we have no choice but to communicate with them."
"That may be, but how long will it take them to identify Jack Bauer as a suspect? They are working under the assumption that he has been rotting in a Moscow prison for the past year and a half. Our government never tried to negotiate for his freedom. You know the attempts I've made for them to even acknowledge his imprisonment."
"Cole Ortiz worked with Bauer. He'll have his data analysis team verify the image."
"Do what you need to do. This story was published hours ago. We can't be the only ones that know already."
Keith walks back onto the balcony and examines the image once more. His eyes fixate on a shadow behind Jack that drapes over the bodies. His mind drifts off to the dozens of images of Jack Bauer he had seen before. He never met the man who saved his father's life, but did not once regret that the amount of time he spent trying to negotiate his freedom. With the city lights shining over him, Keith hopes CTU will be able to recover Jack alive.
12:05 A.M.
Old Lyme, Connecticut
Yellow crime scene tape seals off the Blue Rock Cafe from the beach and boardwalk. CTU's tactical team gathers traces of hair and articles of clothing that might have chemicals on them. They wear protective suits and masks, turning over bodies on the patio. Kate Morgan, now in charge of the tactical team, sits with a witness at a nearby table. She adjusts her face mask, leaning over the table to ask him questions. He avoids eye contact with her. His fingers trembling on his pants. Staring at the bodies in front of him, he feels vomit expel into his cheeks.
"I can't be here any longer. I need to get home to my wife and kids. I've told you all that I know."
"Then if I were you, I would be doing everything in my power to make sure that I could get back to them. You are withholding information and you are afraid. Your body language tells me this. You saw something that you can't unsee. We need to know."
Kate takes a hold of the man's hands and motions with her head for him to look up. His pupils shrink when he meets her glance. The wrinkles on his forehead and his thinning, gray hair remind Kate of her own father. She had not seen him or her family in years. When she joined CTU's tactical team a few months prior, she thought she could do so without any emotional convictions, but her experience in London still haunted her.
"He...never touched anyone. He...never spoke to anyone. He never so much as looked at anyone. When the man walked onto the patio, he stood there like a ghost, staring out into the ocean. When people began to collapse, I didn't notice where or how he disappeared."
"What else did you see that scared you though?"
The witness begins to speak, but the sound of Kate's phone interrupts his thoughts. She pulls the phone out from the pocket of her suit, sees Cole Ortiz's name flash across the screen and accepts the call. After instructing the witness to stay put, she walks briskly onto the boardwalk. When she is far enough away from the cafe, she takes off her face mask. Kate exhales into the receiver for a few moments before opening her mouth.
"Kate?"
"You know who the man is."
"Yes. Our data analyst team confirmed it moments ago. We forwarded the information to the White House. There is something you need to know."
"I know the man is Jack Bauer," Kate whispers. "I examined the image several times today."
"Why didn't you let us know? We never considered Jack as a possibility until Mike Novick called. Jack had been imprisoned in Moscow for so long that he was sort of an after thought to us. It should have been more obvious."
"That's exactly why I hesitated to tell you. Other than his family, senator Palmer and I were the only ones who cared about pushing negotiations for Jack's freedom. We attempted for months and we were still the only ones who cared."
"Please don't try to blame me for something that was out of my control. "
"I have to go," she says, lowering the phone from her ear.
From the corner of her eye, Kate sees a shadowy figure looming at the opposite end of the boardwalk near a row of benches. She can distinguish its broad shoulders, tattered jeans and a beard that dips below the shoulders. She tries to find the image on her phone, but struggles to remember the article name or where she saved it. She tries to remember whether or not Jack had a beard in the image, not knowing whether her mind is envisioning characteristics that aren't there. With one deep breath, Kate, sees the figure gaze toward the crashing waves, but does not move. Beads of sweat beam down her forehead. With one breath more, Kate begins to run toward the figure.
The boardwalk seems to be growing longer as she runs, triggering memories of the morning she ran through the streets of London after she left her position at the CIA. The thought of Audrey dying in her arms and the pain in Jack's voice was enough to make her collapse, vomiting and shivering on the pavement. Those thoughts tonight seem to blur and make the world around her spin. When Kate reaches the figure, she sees that he was merely than an old man with a fisherman's cap and tattered jeans. The man nods to her and looks back toward the ocean, leaving Kate bent at her knees, coughing into the thick, salty air.