Hey,

I'm back. This story is set about six months after CTU: The Shadowlands. I'm pretty sure it's you don't need to have read that story to follow this, but it does use the same group of characters:

Michelle Dessler:- Director of CTU

Tom Baker:- Head of Field Ops

Nathan Gault- CTU Field Operative

Chloe O'Brien- Field Op

Adam Kaufman- CTU Communications

Tony Almeida- CTU Communications, second in command of CTU

Ashley Webber – CTU Undercover Operative.

Natasha Grey- Chapelle's replacement at Division. Her political ambitions were shattered by Brad Hammond at the end of The Shadowlands, but she has too many connections and allies for him to force her out.

I own nothing to do with 24. Amy Gardner is a West Wing character, I'm borrowing for this story.

And with that, on with the story.

Chapter One

The sound of a ringing phone woke him.

He squinted at the clock as he fumbled for the phone, careful not to wake Michelle. 3:27 am. Who the fuck would be ringing them at this time in the morning? He grinned sourly, knowing the answer to that before he'd even finished the question.

"Almeida." Doing his best to stifle a yawn.

"Hey Tony."

The voice at the other end of the line brought him instantly alert. "Jack." He moved carefully out of bed, walking quietly across the bedroom floor, keeping his voice low. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Jack coughed, his voice oddly tinny and distorted. "Nothings wrong. Just wanted to hear a friendly voice. How are things? How's work?"

"Good. Things kept going, Jack, you know what that place is like. It didn't fall apart after you left." Tony hesitated, not sure if he wanted his question answered. "Where are you Jack?"

"On my way to DC. Thought it was time I put a few ghosts to rest." The voice at the other end of the phone sighed heavily. "How are things with you and Michelle? I heard she took over from you."

Tony turned in the hallway, staring through the bedroom door at his sleeping wife. "Things were rough for a while, but we're okay. She's…" He broke off as Michelle moved in her sleep, reaching out for him. "Jesus Christ Jack, how can I watch her do this to herself? I watch her at work, at home, and the fucking job eats at her, worms its fingers into her and there's nothing I can do…" He broke off again, aware that his voice had risen. Aware that he was teetering on the verge of tears.

"Give her some advice from me Tony. Tell her to walk away. If it starts to come between you, starts to haunt her, tell her to get the fuck away from those bastards. Make her promise you that Tony."

"I will."

"I'd better go. Good to hear you Tony."

"And you." Tony held the phone for a moment after Jack hung up. Then padded carefully back across their room. Replacing the phone, and climbing back into bed.

"Who was on the phone?" Her voice, still slurred with sleep.

Tony pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms protectively around her, kissing her head through her curly hair. "Nobody important. Go back to sleep."

Michelle smiled, her eyes still closed, linking her fingers through his. Soon she was asleep again, her expression peaceful.

Tony stayed awake as long as he could. Watching her sleep. Wishing he could protect her.

xxxXXXxxx

"Murdering bitch!"

The woman, the girl, flinched as the rotten fruit struck her on the shoulder, splattering on her clothes. Her eyes darted about, seeking escape from the crowd pressed in around her. Taunts and insults welled around her, as the crowd pushed against the police, struggling to keep the path to the clinic open.

"How can you do this?"

She took another step, her hands curled protectively around her stomach. There was no escape, nowhere to go. No option but to take another step. And then another.

"How can you kill what God has given you? What gives you that right?"

"Reject Satan, and his evil ways! Embrace God and that that He has chosen for you!"

And then she was at the doors of the clinic. She stepped through them and they closed behind her like a steel trap, shutting off the noise and the heat.

xxxXXXxxx

"I just felt so alone." She bowed her head, allowing her blond hair to fall over her face. "I didn't know what else to do. I felt so ashamed, my parents made me feel so ashamed."

"What did you do?" His voice was soft, compassionate, understanding.

She couldn't bear to look at him, at the circle around them. Couldn't stand to see the sympathy in their eyes. "I listened to….I went to the clinic. I didn't know what else to do. My parents talked me into it."

"How do you feel about it?"

She lifted her head, letting them see the tears snaking their way down her face. "I still cry for my child. I still cry when I think about what they did to me. But I know that my baby is in a better place."

"And your parents? What about them?"

She made no effort to hide her tears. They needed to see her cry. "I forgive them." Her voice breaking, she looked around the circle, seeing the same emotions on the faces of many people around her. One woman, no older than her, reached out and squeezed her hand. "They didn't know what they were asking me to do. They were misled."

"Who misled them?"

"The Women's Alliance." She wiped her face, drying her eyes. "Graham Lester." Her voice fell, soft as a whisper, as a lost breath. "Amy Gardner."

"And it is they that must pay for the murder of your child. They must pay for the atrocities they have committed in the name of science and convenience, for the murders they have condoned." He sat back in his chair, smiling benevolently at the group. "You've made excellent progress since you came to us. You're hardly recognisable from the distraught, bereaved young woman that stumbled into our meeting. I'm glad you found us. I'm glad we found you."

She bowed her head again, cheeks flushed from his praise.

"I think you're ready for the next step. I think you're ready to phone your parents and tell them that you forgive them. Tell them that all sins, even theirs can be atoned for."

"When should I phone them?"

"In the morning, after a night of prayer to cleanse your own soul." He bowed his head in prayer. "The Lord shall send His light to show us the way."

xxxXXXxxx

"There was further violence at the Graham Lester Clinic in Los Angeles yesterday. Protesters threw rotten fruit and other missiles at patients, at least one of whom required medical attention. Two policemen were hurt and several protesters were arrested."

"A spokesman for Dr Lester said that 'while they appreciated and respected the Constitutional rights of the protesters' he requested 'they spend some time thinking about the rights of the young women, often the victims of abuse or sexual assault who attend the clinic.'"

"Phillip Maguire, of the organisation Rights Of The Child, which is organising the demonstration at Dr Lester's facility, insisted the protests would continue until 'Dr Lester admitted to his role in the murder of countless children, closed his death camp and agreed to stand trial for multiple counts of murder.'"

"Meanwhile, Amy Gardner, the high profile, pro-choice Senate candidate for The Women's Alliance arrives in LA this morning as part of her campaign. She refused to comment directly on the controversy, saying only that she 'hoped that the Constitutional rights of all involved would be respected.'"

"This CSRFM, I'll be back with more news in an hour."

xxxXXXxxx

Even now, more than a year after his resignation, it was difficult to think of CTU, to think about CTU without thinking of Jack. Thinking of everything he had sacrificed to do the job. What they had all sacrificed.

Automatically, he glanced up at her office. At least she had slept last night. Slept while he had held her in his arms. Sometimes he hated this job, hated what it did to her.

His phone rang. Automatically, still looking at Michelle's office, he pressed the speaker button. "CTU, Almeida."

"Hello, Daddy."

Her voice shattered his complacency. Hastily he snatched the phone up, hoping that whoever was standing with her hadn't heard any of the CTU background noise. "Hello sweetheart." He snapped his fingers, trying to attract Adam's attention, trying to get the trace started. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Daddy."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at peace, Daddy. I'm with my child."

"Wont you come home, sweetheart. Your mother and I miss you…"

"I forgive you Daddy. I forgive you today. Today is the day of redemption, the day of atonement, the day that all sins are forgiven."

"Sweetheart…"

The line went dead.

"Shit." Tony glanced at Adam. "Did we get a trace?"

Headphones pressed against his ears, Adam shook his head.

"Shit." He dialled hastily. Turning in his chair to watch her pick up the phone.

"CTU Dessler."

"Michelle, Ashley's just made contact. It's today."