THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN 5:00 AM AND 6:00 AM

EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME.

Pentagon, Washington D.C

5:00:01

5:00:02

5:00:03

5:00:04

Alex Whitmore made his way into the Pentagon dressed neatly in a blue suit carrying a brown leather briefcase. He walked calm and casual until he reached security. There was only one guard on duty at the time, and he recognized Mr. Whitmore. Without delay, the guard shut off the detectors and let Mr. Whitmore pass uninterrupted. Mr. Whitmore gave the security guard a nod and walked past him, anxious to return a favor for an old friend.

Davis Foreman stepped into the men's room eager to relieve himself. As he entered the lavatory he realized that he wasn't alone. There was a tall blonde man in a blue suit looking at himself in the mirror. On the sink counter was a brown leather briefcase. Davis studied it momentarily, it looked expensive, 'Must have cost him a fortune', Davis thought to himself.

The blond man's face looked familiar. Davis was never any good with faces, but that meant that this guy was someone important. Maybe they met at a party; Davis had no time to think. Davis made it to one of the stalls and locked the door behind him.

'Too easy', Whitmore thought to himself. He fixed his hair and walked out of the public lavatory, confident that his mission was complete.

Davis had just finished in the stall and made it out wondering if the familiar man was still staring at the mirror. But that was when it hit him. He had met the man alright, in Beijing.

Beijing, China.

Davis had hoped dearly that it was over, but the truth was that as long as he or any of the others lived, it would never be over.

Davis realized that the man had left his brown briefcase sitting on the sink counter. That only meant one thing.

Davis made an attempt to run, but was engulfed in blazing flames before he had the chance.

Algeria Africa

5:33:02

5:33:03

5:33:04

5:33:05

Torrico was growing tired. Life hadn't been fair to him. Nothing exciting ever happened in his life as a patrol man for Julian Grezco. Today he was making patrol on a desert airfield in Algeria, with no idea of why. The boss would seldom fill the patrol men in on any of his plans. They were just told to patrol and watch out for anything suspicious. Life had not been fair to Torrico. The sun wasn't completely up yet, traces of the night still clouded Torrico's view. He waved a flashlight at his point of view to see where each step he made had landed.

Suddenly, a strange sound had brushed behind Torrico, catching his attention. It wasn't the sound of the wind, nor the sound of tossed pebbles nor the sound of any living creature. It was blunt, like a footstep on the desert ground.

He made a swift turn, but there was nothing save for sand and stones. Everything was quiet, for a while. But again, the same blunt noise behind him, this time followed by a dark prescience. He attempted another swift ninety degree turn, but upon doing so, felt a hard metal object slap on his forehead, knocking him unconscious. Life hadn't been fair to Torrico.

A man in a black espionage suit revealed himself from the shadows. In his earpiece came a voice.

"You there Sam?" It was William Redding.

"Loud and clear", replied the man.

"Alright", went the earpiece. "Julian is about to leave on a cargo plane not too long from now. There should be a proper snipe spot by the rocks one mile on your East. There you should get a good P.O.V to taking out Grezco."

"Aye aye", returned the one and only Samuel Fisher.

Los Angeles

5:52:12

5:52:13

5:52:14

5:52:15

Jack Bauer slept like a baby. Sleep was the one thing he had grown to love more than a lot of things in his life yet seldom had access to due to his work. His work had more than often forced him into working an entire twenty four hour shift, as well as risk his life numerous times in the process. Jack Bauer hated the adventure in his work, but knew that it was necessary for the protection of American lives. One of the major things about the work that bothered Jack Bauer, however, was that everything in his life could change by just one phone call. His wife along with friends and associates had died due to the course of just one phone call. It frustrated Jack greatly that a series of large chain reactions could occur simply due to something as small and innocent as one phone call.

Then the phone rang.

Apparently a good long sleep was too much to ask for. Jack picked it up, still drowsy.

"Yeah?"

"Jack, it's Tony."

"What do you want?" asked Jack, releasing a loud yawn.

"We want everybody down C.T.U now. There was an attack on the Pentagon about thirty minutes ago."

This was one of the phone calls that Jack Bauer despised.

Algeria, Africa

5:57:32

5:57:33

5:57:34

5:57:35

Sam had just made it quietly to the snipe spot that Redding had directed him to. The view was perfect, Sam could see everything. There was a large plane on the desert field and through the help of binoculars, Sam could clearly count six people loading boxes into it. Among the six, who were all men, one of them had features that stood out. He had black shades and a goatee, a green military jacket and green camouflage pants. Sam zoomed into the man's face and recognized it.

Julian Grezco.

Sam loaded his SC 20K rifle on hand and aimed the targeting reticule of the sniper scope right at Grezco's head. All he needed was a quiet second to pull the trigger, but someone noticed his presence.

A loud shout came from behind Sam in a language he didn't care to understand. He reacted instead by making a sharp turn to whoever was behind him and pulling the trigger of his rifle.

The man Sam had shot wielded an AK 47 assault rifle and when hit on the chest, squeezed the trigger of his rifle blindly into the air.

"Damn!" shouted Sam. Only moments after the loud gunfire, he could hear, "Spies, get the plane off land now!" from Grezco's vicinity. He aimed the rifle and fired numerous shots at his target, but Grezco made too many movements for any to hit.

Soon, Grezco and his crew of six men had boarded the plane and were no longer visible. The plane started driving on the run way collecting enough speed to fly, Sam couldn't allow it. Sam dropped his SC 20K rifle on the ground and chased after the plane with his silenced pistol in hand. He came close, but not close enough. The plane had already taken off. He fired shots at the plane, but it had no effect.

"Damn it!" Sam was furious. He stopped running to catch his breath and watch the plane fly away. The morning sun was rising and the shadows had dissolved.

"Fisher", a voice came from his earpiece. It wasn't Redding, but rather his old friend Colonel Irving Lambert.

"What?" Sam was still overcoming his frustration on the failure.

"Meet Redding and get back to the States ASAP. An urgent situation has just come up."

"But Grezco just got away", Sam said. "What about him?"

Lambert's voice was blunt and clear. "Forget Grezco for now. Something bigger has just come up."

5:59:57

5:59:58

5:59:59

6:00:00