DISCLAIMER: All canon characters, places, and everything else in this story are copyright of their respective owners. I own none of the aforementioned, though all original characters, places, and others were created by myself, with helpful input from a friend. Any similarities to any real life person or thing is purely coincidental.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I try to research as much as possible, though there are at some point bound to be a few things different from how they work in real life. I haven't got it all down in writing yet, but several things could arise familiar with the shows in question. Namely, perhaps some hacking, setting up video feeds, bombs, and other things which I would rather not get flagged over for looking up. If anyone sees any issues that need correcting in this area, please let me know.
Of further note, while 24 is purely based around a clock, this can prove quite difficult in putting it to paper, and can lead to unnecessary padding and filler, which no one wants, as they get in the way of the story. Therefore, to get as much story out of this as possible, I have chosen to forego the time-based episodes, and I instead will focus on one chapter at a time, which will no doubt lead to more than just 24 chapters. I intend to split the story over 3 acts or parts, each dealing with a different layer of the overarching conspiracy throughout the day. Think of it as like Martin Scorsese's trilogy of gangster films, with every act representing a deeper step into the storyline and the myth arc.
Finally, while there will be some NCIS in here as well, I am not as familiar with NCIS as I am with 24, having not seen every single episode. Therefore, some certain retcons may have to be employed in order to link both universes.
SERIES TIMELINE: While the 24 timeline has always been rather vague, I'm certain I've finally figured it out thanks to numerous clues.
Day 1 - March 2004
Day 2 - September 2005
Day 3 - September 2008
Day 4 - March 2010
Day 5 - September 2011
Day 6 - May 2013
Day 7 - March 2017
Day 8 - September 2018
Day 9 - December 2022
This story is rated M for strong violence and pervasive language. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 1: A New Dawn
5:01AM
UNITED AIRLINES FLIGHT 901
EN ROUTE FROM PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC TO NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
CHRISTMAS EVE, DECEMBER 24th, 2022, PRESENT DAY
Peace treaties! Ha! The mere thought of world peace made Logan Byrne laugh hardily as he read through a news magazine, while seated down in the coach section of a plane headed towards New York City.
"As long as there is dissention...", Logan thought, "...there can never be any true peace."
Logan knew this all too well. He had faithfully served Ireland as a countryman, in her army, and now he knew that such ideals were false. After being cast aside like so many others, Logan met Ryan Carrigan, who also served in Her Majesty's army, and was cast aside just as well. Ryan was a key figure in the Provisional Irish Republican Army, and the IRA sought to win Northern Ireland's full independence from the United Kingdom. The media may label them as terrorists, but to Logan, Carrigan, and all of the brothers and sisters, they're freedom fighters. They're patriots. Today will be an historic day, remembered for the ages to come.
Just the same however, Logan thought back 20 years ago, when he was just a lad. He thought about a similar act. He remembered when a ragtag bunch of Arabic nationalists flew planes into the World Trade Center in NYC, with the intent of proving a point to the world. On some level, they certainly succeeded. To this day, airline security is much tougher than it was before. Not only that, but people of Islamic culture are viewed in a much harsher light. It would be damn near impossible for this plan to succeed if it was being pulled off by a group of Arabs. That's where Carrigan's crew comes in. Logan knew what the mission was - free brothers and sisters in arms who had been falsely imprisoned by the UK and her allies. He looked at his watch. It read 5:04am. It was just about time.
Like clockwork, Gavin Sullivan, the commander of Logan and his brothers onboard, passed by and nodded to him. Logan returned the nod. Nick Gilley, Logan's best friend, came over and sat down in the empty seat next to Logan.
"You ready, mate?", Nick whispered to Logan. "This is gonna make us all famous."
"Let's just focus on the task at hand before we discuss our place in the history books.", Logan replied.
"Too right, mate. Bathroom. God speed.", Nick said.
Logan stood up and walked carefully down the aisle, and through the first class wing. Taking a look around, he saw several faces. Men and women in business suits, mainly Americans and Europeans. But no children to be found. This was a diplomatic flight, for certain. He did notice several individuals of high importance. Several stoic-looking men with earpieces and wearing casual jackets with plenty of space in the shoulders could only mean one thing - protection. And these weren't just a bunch of hired dimwits, either. Logan could tell they were professionals. In addition to the armed agents onboard, he took note of 3 men in different seats who didn't blink for anything. Alert and focused, he knew then and there that these boys were air marshals. Finally, 2 guards in security uniforms stood by the cockpit. Given the high value of this flight, namely more than a few people onboard who America and Great Britain would pay a steep price to get back, all this extra security was especially necessary. Carefully and cautiously, so as not to arouse the attention of anyone with a gun, Logan entered the bathroom close to the cockpit. Feeling around under the sink, he found what he was looking for - a Glock 17, with a fully loaded clip of 17 9x19mm Parabellum rounds. Checking the pistol all around to make sure it wouldn't jam on him once the shite hit the fan, Logan then found the silencer he needed and attached it to the gun's barrel. This wasn't some action flick, so he knew the silencer wouldn't make the gun all quiet. That wasn't the purpose. The purpose was to ensure that the cabin stayed pressurized and wouldn't fly apart unless some jackass shot at the damned wall, or in the worst event, a window. Logan holstered the gun and exited the bathroom, looking as confident and relaxed as possible. Hopefully, the guards will think Logan just took a grand shit and feels happy. He walked over to the closest air marshal, who's seat next to him was empty.
"Pardon me, chap. Do you mind if I sit here?", Logan asked the marshal.
"No, go ahead. We don't have a lot longer until we land.", the marshal replied.
"Thank you, sir.", Logan said.
He took his seat next to the marshal. This was somewhat advantageous. He had the marshal in a relaxed state, thinking that Logan was just some stereotypical English Cockney punk. Given that the marshal was probably more concerned with any Muslim-looking person and not a causcasian, Anglo-looking one, Logan pretty much flew under suspicion, no pun intended. Logan sat back and waited another minute.
As Logan was waiting, he mulled over what he had read in the magazine, and what you couldn't turn on a bloody TV without hearing about. That being, the peace treaty. The new American President was working with the new Russian President to draft some treaty to ensure world peace, and a bunch of other crap. Logan remembered something very similar to this. About 4 years ago, the American and Russian presidents, along with the IRK president, tried to draft a peace treaty. However, then it turned out that both President Taylor and President Suvarov were involved in some grand scheme, the details of which Logan was still rather fuzzy on. He hadn't looked into the scandal all that much, but he knew it had something to do with the assassination of the previous IRK president that very day. Whatever the case, Taylor resigned and was remanded to a 5 year sentence in Club Fed. A rather lax sentence, but she was the President of the United States, after all. On the other hand, Suvarov was arrested, charged with conspiracy and murder, and is presently wasting away in some Russian jail cell. The treaty to be signed that day was regarded as a joke, and nothing came of it. But now, both countries have new Presidents. The U.S. has Tom Fahey, a reformer who was elected in a huge landslide in the 2020 Presidential Election. In Russia, the head honcho is Dimitri Petrovic, another reformer and quite possibly Fahey's best friend, who had succeeded the scandal-filled administration with intent to not go back to the days of the Cold War. In any event, Logan figured that after this morning, the treaty would seem very insignificant.
The clock rolled at 5:09am. Nick started down the aisle. He approached the 2 security guards at the cockpit. One of the guards tried to stop Nick.
"I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to take your seat..."
He didn't finish that sentence. Nick quickly pulled out his Glock and blasted the first guard, BAM! BAM!, twice in the chest. Before the second guard could react, Nick put 2 in him as well for good measure. Both fell dead in crumpled heaps at Nick's feet. The air marshal sitting next to Logan didn't get a chance to get his bearings. Logan pulled out his Glock and shot the marshal several times in his chest at point blank range, and he quickly faded in front of Logan's eyes. A second marshal came running down the aisle, but before he could draw a bead on Logan or Nick, he was quickly cut down from behind by Riley O'Callaghan, the team's pilot. Within an instant, the passengers and flight attendants scrambled, yelling for help. The security agents proved to be a more interesting challenge, but they were very quickly surprised and had both a positional and numerical disadvantage. One of them was shot through the side of the head by Sullivan. Another was shot multiple times in the abdomen by Sam Dalton, the team's technical expert. Logan quickly snuck up behind a nearby agent and shot him through the back of the head. He never knew what hit him. While the remaining agents, plus the last air marshal, attempted to out flank the IRA troops and push them towards the front of the plane, this plan quickly fell apart, as numerous brothers-in-arms emerged from the cargo area where several automatic weapons had been stashed beforehand, generously enough. 2 agents were cut down in short order by Seamus, one of the men. 3 others were riddled with bullets by the brothers. Their pistols were no match for Kalashnikov AK-47s and Heckler & Koch MP5s. Just then, an explosion rocked the front of the plane. A bomb tore open the keypad-locked door to the cockpit, courtesy of Logan and Riley. Both men ran in and prevented the 3 pilots from calling for any help.
"Hey! Asshole!", Riley yelled to the captain. "Don't touch anything, or you'll be walking away with one less finger!"
He jammed his pistol into the side of the captain's head.
"Just do as we say and you'll all get out of this alive. And remember, I am a pilot.", Riley warned the crew.
Back in the cabin, the remaining agent attempted to seek cover, only to be met with a bullet to the face by Nick for his troubles. This left only the final air marshal as the sole threat to the operation. He didn't even bother trying to run. He had been too overwhelmed by the combat to do much of anything. But even though he was considered an enemy combatant to the IRA men, Sullivan had other plans for him. Logan ran out of the cockpit to brief Sullivan.
"We've secured the cockpit, sir. We've got full control of the plane now.", Logan confidently told his boss.
"Good work, Logan. And good job, men!", Sullivan applauded. "We've still got work yet to come, but we've done the impossible! With this plane at hand, today we will make history, gentlemen!", Sullivan seemed very happy.
And for good reason, all of the men were celebrating as well. They knew that today they would finally repay the British Crown. One of the passengers, however, obviously enough, was not so happy.
"Do you know who you're fucking with here? Do you? Huh? You and your friends are all fucked!", a younger, cocky man wearing a sharp suit yelled at Nick.
"Shut the fuck up!", Nick hit the man in the gut hard with his MP5. "Just shut the fuck up and sit back down! No heroes! We're not here for all of you! We just want what's ours!", Nick yelled at the passengers and crew.
"What do you want to do with the pig here?", Seamus asked Sullivan in reference to their friend, the marshal.
"Don't kill him. I've got plans for him. Sam, Logan, and Nick, you three come with me. Get the marshal, we'll need him.", Sullivan said. "Everyone else, start securing the passengers and the attendants. Bring them to the coach section."
The other troops immediately complied, rounding up the passengers and crew against their will and escorting them to the coach section. Logan wasn't sure what the plan for the hostages were, but they weren't the enemy. He picked up the marshal and went along with Sullivan, Dalton, and Nick to the cockpit, where Riley had relieved the navigator of his duty and handed him off to a comrade to take to coach.
"Sam, start setting up a link between here and Washington. You know the plan.", Sullivan told Dalton. "You two, if you don't do exactly as we tell you, if you try to call for help, you're dead. Understand? Good. Now, there's a little change in schedule. Stay on this path, start heading towards Dallas.", Sullivan told the pilots.
"Dallas? Why Dallas?", asked the captain.
"You'll find out very soon. For now, just do as I and my men here tell you.", Sullivan retorted. "Sam, how's that link coming along?", Sullivan asked Dalton.
"Almost...got it! We should have a full feed now.", Dalton said.
"Good. Masks on, gentlemen. We can't risk exposing our identities for now."
Sullivan, Logan, Nick, and Riley all put on their ski masks, heavily obscuring their facial features. Dalton set up a video camera and started recording, knowing full well it would get picked up by government agencies and transmitted directly to all major news networks.
"And...now!", Dalton said.
Sullivan started talking, "December 24th, 2022. This is not a hoax. We, the Irish Republican Army, have taken control of United Airlines Flight 901, en route from Prague to New York City. If you have received our present sent out very early this morning, then you should have anticipated this. We are in possession of some 200+ hostages onboard, and as of right now, I have 3 very simple demands that if you do not comply with, you can expect serious consequences.
Number 1. You will cancel this peace treaty signing. It is an affront to Irish independence.
Number 2. Northern Ireland must be given full independence from the United Kingdom.
and Number 3. You and your allies will free all of the brothers and sisters you have falsely imprisoned. Their names have been recorded in our previous video.
You have 30 minutes to cancel this treaty, for the UK to announce it will give Northern Ireland full independence, and to start the process of freeing all of your "political prisoners". Once we have word that all of this is underway, we will set the plane down and free all the hostages, so long as we are allowed to fly to native Ireland with no interference. Failure to comply with these demands will result in severe consequences. And just to show how serious we are, we will provide a demonstration for you."
Sullivan shoots the air marshal through the side of the head.
"I hope you will not take this lightly. If we do not hear good news within the next 30 minutes, 2 more hostages will be executed. And the number of hostages killed will increase with 10 minute intervals. You have been warned. I trust you will do the right thing.", Sullivan finishes his speech.
Dalton stops recording, while Logan and Nick proceed to carry the marshal's body away. Sullivan takes off his mask.
"Will this work, Gavin?", Dalton asked.
"Just be confident, Sam. This will have already been transmitted across the United States and the world. We are on the path to making history." Sullivan assured Dalton. He grabs the loudspeaker. "Everyone onboard, this is your new captain speaking. Destination, Dallas."