Blunt Tools
Chapter One
The Ghost
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ADX Supermax Federal Prison
Florence Colorado
The correctional officers called him "The Ghost." A handsome, dark haired man with a sullen expression. He was considered the most dangerous man in a prison designed for dangerous men. Former Special Forces, former CTU agent, ruthless terrorist. He could probably kill a man with his bare hands without even thinking about it. Not that he was a problem inmate. He followed all the staff's orders without hesitation. But he never said a word, never changed his expression. He completely ignored every other inmate in the facility. The inmates here were locked in their 10 X 15 foot cells 23 hours a day with one hour a day set aside for exercise outside in a small wire enclosure. "The Ghost" never took that opportunity. He never left his cell unless absolutely necessary. His daily routine never altered. An exercise routine that would kill a horse followed by a shower, then sitting in his cell staring at the door for the rest of the day. His cell contained no reading material nor did he ask for any. He paused only for meals then sat and stared. He had a TV/radio in his cell but he never switched it on. He just sat there staring.
Somewhere outside of time
The young boy knelt in the lush green grass and gently touched the surface of the pond. The image of the sullen man disappeared into a blur of ripples. "Will father ever join us?"
A beautiful woman with long flowing brown hair knelt next to him and put her arm around the boy's shoulders. "We can pray that he will but ultimately that is a choice that he will have to make himself."
The boy stared into his mother's soft brown eyes. "But he suffers so much!"
"Your father has sinned greatly and has caused much suffering. It is only justice that he must suffer in return. But suffering is like fire. It can destroy but it can also cleanse and purify."
"So he's getting better?" The boy's voice had a touch of hope to it.
The woman paused. In this place there were no lies. "No, he's getting worse. His heart is full of bitterness and hate. The path he is following leads only deeper into the darkness."
"But we'll lose him forever!" The boy wailed.
The woman's eyes narrowed and her jaw set with determination. "Not without a fight! Love is stronger than hate. Good is stronger than evil. Our love can rescue your father but we also need help." She pointed to the pond. "There are people on Earth who watch over and protect others. One of them was my friend."
The pond now showed a brown haired woman in her late thirties pushing a shopping cart through a grocery store. She stopped to stare at a stack of cantaloupes as if deciding which ones were best. The toddler sitting in the cart's babyseat grabbed her necklace and pulled on it. "Leggo of mommy's necklace! Leggo!" She gently pried his pudgy fist open. "You've got quite a grip there Scotty," she muttered under her breath. She then selected four cantaloupes and placed them in the cart.
"She's not a saintly woman, she's far from it. But she's a good woman. God often uses blunt and broken tools to do his work and she may be your father's only chance for salvation."
Los Angeles, California
Chloe O'Brian opened her eyes and tried to focus in the darkness of the bedroom. She could hear Morris snoring softly next to her, feel the warmth of his body. She just had another one of those weird dreams. Something about Michelle and some kid. They wanted her to do something but what? The dream was already fading from her memory. Oh well, it's just a dream. She rolled over on her side and looked at the alarm. Almost time to get up.
Morris pulled uncomfortably at his collar and loosened his tie. It was damned warm in here. Chloe wasn't exactly the best Christian in the world. She rarely said grace at meals and he'd never once seen her crack a Bible open. But every Sunday she insisted that the whole family get dressed up and go to church. And not to the nice new church conveniently located four blocks from home. The one with the comfortable padded pews and robust air conditioning system. Nooo! They had to drive halfway across Los Angeles to this elderly church with its rock hard pews and a cranky AC installed some time during the Johnson administration. The priest, Father Petrowsky, was an old friend of hers, helped her get through a rough spot a few years ago. As Father Petrowsky's sermon droned on he noticed her nodding off. Scotty was sitting next to her quietly playing with a plastic tyrannosaur that apparently had the power of flight. A quick poke to her ribs caused her head to snap up and earned him an angry glare. Morris just grinned and leaned back in the hard pew.
After mass Chloe leaned over to Morris. "Take Scotty to the playroom, I need to talk to Father Mike, alone."
"What about?"
"Things that are none of your business."
Morris gave an exasperated sigh but picked up his young son and headed down the hallway. Chloe waited for the congregation to leave before approaching the elderly priest. "I need to talk to you, about a friend of mine. Actually an ex-friend. His name's Tony." Chloe wrung her hands. She seemed embarrassed. "I've been having some weird dreams about him. Like I'm supposed to help him."
The bald, bearded priest smiled. "So why's he your ex-friend and not your friend?"
"Murder, treason, basically he's scum-of-the-earth. He's doing life without parole."
"Sometimes it's the scum-of-the-earth who need friends the most. He was your friend. Was he a good man?"
Chloe nodded. "Yeah, he was a pretty good guy, but his wife was murdered. She was carrying his child. It drove him right over the edge."
"I'd like you to see something." Father Mike led her down the hall. "If he was once a good man he may still be again. Whenever there's life, there's hope."
"So what about my dreams?"
"There are two possibilities. The first one is that Heaven and Hell are battling over Tony's immortal soul. You have been chosen by God to be his divine messenger and to try to save him from eternal damnation."
Chloe snorted in derision.
"The second possibility is that in spite of all the horrible things he's done and no matter how much you dislike him at the moment, you still consider Tony to be your friend. You believe in God, Jesus, the devil, Heaven and Hell or you wouldn't keep coming here every week. You are concerned about the fate of his immortal soul and want to save him. This concern has entered your subconscious through your dreams. Of course it may be a combination of the two."
They entered a room used for Sunday school. It had some toys and a round table spotted with drops of dried glue, glitter, and small bits of construction paper. Father Mike pointed at a picture on the wall. "This is what I wanted to show you. What do you see?"
"An old, cheap print of Jesus knocking at a door. I've seen this picture a million times, everyone has. It's as common as dirt."
"You've seen it a million times but have you really looked at it? Look closer. Use that million dollar brain of yours."
Chloe looked at the picture for several seconds. "There's no latch on the door."
"No there isn't. The door represents the human heart. In this case it's your friend Tony. Jesus can't open the door. It can only be opened from the inside."
"Well if Jesus can't get in what makes you think I can?"
"You can't. I believe you have to meet with Tony and persuade him to open the door himself. That's what your dreams are about."
Chloe crossed her arms. "What if I really don't want to see the son of a bitch." Her voice had a tone of irritation.
"Nobody can make you do anything against your will. Not even God. You're an intelligent woman and you're a good woman. I feel you can make the choice to do what is best."
"Yeah, whatever. I've got to go get Morris and Scotty. See you next week." Chloe left the room.
On the drive home, Morris noticed Chloe seemed rather quiet. She just sat there staring out the window. After about half an hour she finally spoke. "I'm going to Colorado tomorrow."
Morris shook his head. "We can't go to Colorado tomorrow. There's no way I can get off work on such short notice."
"I didn't say 'we', I said 'I'. I'm going alone. You stay here and take care of Scotty."
"So what's in Colorado?"
"Tony, I've got to help him."
"There's no way you can get him out of Supermax. No one gets out of Supermax."
"I'm not going to help him escape." Chloe's voice took the tone she usually reserved for explaining the extremely obvious to the extremely stupid. "I need to talk to him."
"They won't even let you in. They're extremely strict on visitors. Only immediate family, lawyers, and clergy. You're a civilian now. You don't qualify."
"They'll let me in. I just helped save America, remember? America owes me a few favors and I'm going to call them in. I know what strings to pull. I'll get in."
"So why do you need to see Tony?"
"Because he's my friend."
That settled it as far as Morris was concerned. Chloe didn't have very many friends. She wasn't a very friendly person. But the loyalty she showed to the friends she did have bordered on the fanatical. Morris reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "So how long will you be gone?"
Chloe squeezed his hand back. "As long as it takes."
Author's note: All my Chloe stories are tied together except for The Honeymoon which is kind of AU. You don't have to read them but I will occasionally make references to people and events that didn't happen in the show. Don't worry about it. Father Michael Petrowsky for example was first introduced in Bless Me Father.