Ok, let's just say that the 24: Live Another Day finale just about killed me! After that I wanted was some serious Jack/Audrey fluff. In the end, that's not exactly what I came up with. The scene with James Heller walking with his daughter's casket broke my heart (William Devane's performance was superb!) as did his final words with Alastair (Congratulations 24 writers. You finally got an emotional moment right!). I started to think about the 12 hours since he got the news of Audrey's death and what would happen in the future. This is what I came up with. Although not uplifting or happy, I'm hoping that it plucks a heartstring or two. Let me know what you think.
Just a quick note, for those of you either didn't watch Season 4 or have long forgotten it, James Heller had a son named Richard who factored prominently into that season's story line. Richard's name will come up in this chapter and I didn't want to have to take the time in the text of the story to explain.
As always, I don't own any of the characters. Those are the property of Fox Television who I thank for allowing me to borrow them.
Final Thoughts
James Heller:
I walk forward slowly. Despite the fact that my mind is failing, my body remains strong. I still stand tall, unaffected by the chill of the London morning. I rest my hand lightly on the flag draping her casket. Her casket. I stare straight ahead trying to control my emotions, trying to stem the tide of tears that are aching to fall from my eyes. How did it all go so wrong? Audrey is dead. Mark is in custody. No one can find Jack.
I have never felt more alone in my life. I remember back to when my wife died. As alone as I was at that moment, I knew I had to go on. I needed to raise my children, Audrey and her brother, Richard. I only got that per 50 percent right. If Audrey was the joy of my life, and believe me when I tell you that she was, Richard was her total antithesis. He fought me at every turn. We agreed on nothing. He lived out virtually every vice I despised. I can accept that he was gay. That was never the biggest issue. It was his partying, drug use and promiscuity. Not to mention that he embraced every left-wing liberal cause that he could, not because he believed in them, I could have lived with that, but because it hurt me. When I got the call that he died of a drug overdose I wasn't all that surprised. I would be lying to myself if I didn't admit that I was also a bit relieved. It was going to happen eventually. I knew that as sure as I knew the sun would set in the west. When he finally died I no longer had to worry about when it would happen. That sounds crass but if you're standing in my shoes, it's more realistic than it is crass. I'm nothing if not a realist. I grieved for my son, I truly did, but it was bearable because I had Audrey by my side. Audrey was there for me. She was my sunshine. I feel as if the sun has set forever.
When I think about it I realize that this is the second time in my life that I've been told that Audrey was dead. The first was when she went to China to negotiate Jack's release. That time was different. The pain was every bit as real, but I was at a different stage in my life and it just seemed more bearable. I was younger, healthier and consumed by my position as Secretary of Defense. Instead of mourning my daughter, I plunged into my work. I spent every waking moment working. I didn't deal with the grief, but rather worked myself to exhaustion. When I found out that Audrey was alive, I realized that I never really let myself believe that she was dead. It was easy to fool myself. I didn't see a body. They sent me a box filled with ashes, but that's different. I couldn't identify with ashes. Last night as I sat at the CIA station in a haze trying to process all that had happened, I told Ron Clark, my acting Chief of Staff, that I needed to see Audrey.
"That's not possible, Sir," he said. "The Secret Service won't allow you to go to the morgue. They can't secure it on such short notice."
"You mean like they secured the location where my daughter was meeting Jiao Sim? I don't give a damn what they think. I'm not asking them, Ron, I'm telling them," I retorted in a strong, Presidential voice. "At this moment, I'm still the President and they will carry out my orders. I'm not asking them to secure the building. I don't care if that building is secure. I'd be happy to have some crazy person jump out from behind a desk and shoot me," I shouted.
Ron nodded almost imperceptibly and went out of the room to tell my Secret Service detail. I watched them through the glass panel. They argued the point for a few seconds but in the end they did as I asked. They took me to the morgue. I asked the Secret Service to leave us alone. I was surprised when they cleared the room without an argument. I'm happy that I got to see her. It sounds cliché but she looked peaceful. She was still dressed in the white blouse and black slacks that she wore yesterday. Other than the crimson stain on her blouse, she could have been sleeping. It was too soon after death for rigor mortis to set in, so her hand was still soft when I held it. It was cold and unresponsive, but it was soft. I leaned over the gurney and wrapped my arms around her. It was at that moment that I knew she was gone. I cried like I've never cried before, harder than I had cried for my wife or my son or even for Audrey when I thought she died in China. My tears soaked the shoulder of her blouse and ran down her neck. All I wanted was to change places with her. I wanted to be the corpse on the gurney in a cold morgue.
I eventually got hold of myself and had my detail take me back to the residence. On the way I asked Ron if anyone had heard from Jack.
"I haven't, Sir, but I'll look into. I'll check with the CIA acting station chief," he told me as he reached for his phone.
"Do that. When you talk to him, offer him a seat on Air Force One. I'd like him to return to The States with me. Do you know if anyone has told him about Audrey?"
"I don't know that either, Sir, but I'll find out." He paused with his phone in his hand for a moment. "Sir, I know this is bad timing, but while we were waiting for you I got a call from Agent Ritter at the CIA. There's something that you need to know."
"Say it, Ron. I'm in no mood for you to mince words."
"Cheng Zhi is dead."
"Dead? He was alive and in custody in the video. What happened?"
"We're still trying to piece that together, Sir. When the CIA team got to the ship where Jack captured Cheng, Jack wasn't there and Cheng's body was on the bridge. He'd been beheaded with a samurai sword."
"He deserved worse. Jack should have sliced open his belly and pulled out his intestines slowly."
Ron grimaced. "Jack Bauer?"
"Yeah and don't for a minute think he couldn't do it."
"How do you know it was Bauer?"
"I know Jack. This answers my question. Jack knows about Audrey. He beheaded Cheng to avenge her. He wasn't taking the chance with the courts or even of Cheng escaping custody again. He was going to make sure that Cheng was dead and there was no surgeon on Earth who could save his life. You can look for Jack, but you aren't going to find him. He'll disappear into the shadows again. He should go home a national hero, but he won't. He'll go to ground and deal with his grief in his own way. Speaking of which, make sure Boudreau is secure. I'm sure he's on Jack's list. Besides trying to turn Jack over to the Russians, Mark is responsible for Audrey's death. Jack will want blood. He was able to get Chloe O'Brian out of CIA custody. He can get to Mark if he wants to."
I reached the residence and the staff all stood silently as if at attention. Most of the women were crying. The men had solemn faces. Many couldn't meet my eye. They all loved Audrey. She was the warmth in the White House. I was brash and edgy. Mark was a smooth-talking salesman. Audrey was warm and kind. She was smart and capable but she was soft and approachable. Together we were a team…and a damn fine one. Polls showed that my popularity at this point in my presidency was higher than for any other president in the last 20 years. Not that I put any stock in polls, but I have to admit that it made me proud.
I went to the private quarters without saying word to anyone. The rooms were eerily quiet. I was used to hearing Audrey and Mark milling around in the room across the hall. I would hear one of them go to the kitchen for a late night snack or a cup of coffee if they were working late. The silence was deafening and intolerable. For the first time in my life I felt old. I've known that I have Alzheimer's disease for several months, but I've never felt old. Now I feel old. Funny, my mind was as clear as ever at that moment. For once I wish that my mind had that soupy feel that sometimes comes over me when I'm trying to think of a name or a place or an event. I wish this was all foggy, but it's not. It's clear as a bell.
A soft knock at the door brought me out of my reverie. "In," I called.
Ron opened the door about a foot. "Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but Agent Morgan from the CIA is here. She was hoping to speak with you."
"What does she want?" I asked.
"She says it's personal, Sir," he answered.
"Bring her to my study," I told him.
That's an unusual request but Ron didn't question it. I usually meet people in my office. I don't let them invade my personal space, but right now my personal space felt so empty that it seemed like inviting someone into it might help. I walked into the study and poured myself a glass of brandy. I suddenly remembered Audrey admonishing me for drinking earlier in the day. I promised her that it was just one drink. I meant it when I said it, but now I was breaking that promise. I glanced skyward in silent apology and raised my glass to her. I decided when I got back to my room that I was going to flush that medication down the drain. If its purpose was to help me maintain my memory, then I didn't want it any more, especially if it meant that I couldn't have a drink to dull the ache in my heart.
"Agent Morgan," the Secret Service agent announced as he opened the door and stepped into the room.
"Leave us," I instructed him. I waited for him to close the door. "Agent Morgan," I said as I nodded in her direction. "Would you join me," I gestured toward the bottle of brandy. She stood before me. Her blond hair and tall, trim figure reminded me of Audrey. I bet she would be beautiful in a dress and heels, but she wore black fatigues. You'll have to excuse the musings of an old man, but I still prefer a woman to be dressed like a woman. Don't get me wrong, I don't think they should be locked in the kitchen. My own daughter was an integral part of my administration but she always looked like a woman. At the moment Agent Moran looked as if she was exhausted. Her face and eyes were red from crying.
"No… thank you, Sir." Her voice cracked and tears filled her eyes. "I just came here to offer my apologies, Sir. It's my fault that your daughter died and I take full responsibility. I'll tender my resignation in the morning. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am." She was sobbing now.
"Sit down, Agent Morgan," I said to her. "I think you need a drink. I'm your President. You're not allowed to disagree."
She sat stiffly in the nearest chair, perched on the very edge. I poured a snifter of brandy and handed it to her. "Drink it. That's an order." I thought I saw the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. "That's Audrey's favorite brandy. Sometimes we'd sit and have a glass together in the evening. Recently she wouldn't let me drink because of the medications I was taking. So she'd have a brandy and I'd have club soda with lime. Not a very good substitute, don't you agree?"
"It's very good brandy, Sir. Audrey had good taste." She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sob.
"Agent Morgan, may I call you Kate." She nodded. "Kate, there are two people I hold responsible for my daughter's death: Cheng Zhi and Mark Boudreau. Not you. Not Jack. Not the Secret Service. Cheng was an animal who kidnapped and tortured my daughter for six months all the while telling the world that she was dead. I'm just glad that the world is rid of him. I thought that happened a few years ago, but obviously I was wrong. This time it was in Jack Bauer's hands. Now I don't have any doubts. Cheng wanted to get revenge on Jack. Mark never meant to hurt Audrey. On the contrary, he loved her. He was trying to keep Jack away from her. His greatest fault was jealousy. He was blinded by his jealously. Unfortunately, he knew that his marriage wasn't strong and that Audrey never stopped loving Jack. My mistake was convincing her that Mark was the right man for her. I honestly never wanted anything but to see her happy. I convinced her that Jack wasn't coming back and that Mark was a good man who loved her. I knew she didn't love Mark, but I thought she'd learn to love him. The first couple of years were pretty good, but it went downhill from there. " I paused for a long moment and then rose to refill my glass. I held up the bottle, silently asking Kate if she would like another glass. She shook her head. Her eyes were so sad.
"Thank you for staying with Audrey. I understand that you didn't leave her until the medics got there. Was she in any pain?"
"I don't believe so, Sir. I think she was just in shock. She cried out when I first laid her down on the bench, but I think it was more shock and confusion than pain. To be honest, Sir, I don't think she was processing anything at that point."
"Did she talk to you?"
Kate shook her head. "No. I'm not even sure she heard me. I tried to get her to stay with me, to focus on me, but she just closed her eyes, and…," She set the glass down and put her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Mr. President. I'm so sorry." I sat next to her with my hand on her shoulder and let her cry.
It was several moments before she was able to get herself under control. Once she did, I spoke again, "When you get back to the CIA station you'll find that I had a commendation put in your personnel file."
"A commendation?"
"Yes, the actions that you and Jack took averted a war that could have easily gone nuclear. You risked your life to make sure that didn't happen. The world should be grateful to you. I am grateful to you. Audrey would be grateful to you." I stood to indicate that the meeting was over. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired. I have a long day ahead of me. I doubt if I'll be able to sleep but maybe I can get some rest. Secret Service will escort you out."
I tried to sleep but it never happened. I eventually got up and dressed in a dark suit. I dreaded what was coming next. The long flight back to the US would be interminable. Normally, long flights on Air Force One weren't much different than several hours in my office. Most of my staff was there. We had all necessary communications. We treated it like regular working hours. Today much of my staff and the entire press corps had been placed on other flights. Only a skeleton crew was flying with me. That big bird was going to be very empty. Just me and my thoughts.
And so the Honor Guard moves forward. We approach Air Force One, Audrey and I. I am to walk up the stairs like I always do. She will enter through the cargo bay. Imagine that. My daughter… the acting First Lady of the United States of America, will enter Air Force One through the cargo bay. I won't let them stow her in the cargo hold like the meat for tonight's dinner, though. I remembered earlier this morning that when President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, they removed seats from the rear of Air Force One and secured his casket in the passenger compartment. I asked that the same courtesy be afforded my daughter. The British honor guard stops several yards from the plane only to be replaced by US Marines. They look so strong and capable in their dress uniforms. I step back to allow one of the Marines to take my place. I watch as they take the casket onto the plane. Once it is out of my sight, I turn to walk up the stairs to the plane. Another Marine stands at attention at the base of the steps, his hand raised to his forehead in a sharp salute. I remember my days as a young Marine. For a moment I wish I could do it all over again. I wish that I could live my life differently. I wish I knew then what I know now: that life is short and precious, that spending time and enjoying your loved ones if far more satisfying than a quest for power. I am the most powerful man in the world right now but I have nothing. I would give every bit of power back if I could just have my beautiful daughter, full of life and standing beside me for the rest of my days.
I feel my legs begin to falter and for a moment I consider asking the Marine for help up the stairs. Then I think better of it. Audrey never wanted me to appear weak. She'd want me to stand up and show strength. She was concerned when I was elected that because of my age, the oldest president ever elected, my every move would be scrutinized by the media and my opponents. She was afraid that they would seize any opportunity to say I was too old to execute the office of the presidency and make it difficult for me to continue as president. For Audrey I resolved not to show any weakness at this moment. I draw a deep breath and ascend the stairs slowly...for the last time. On my way home, I'll record my resignation speech that will be broadcast to the nation this evening. I had planned on doing this even before I lost my daughter but my speech writers have gone to work revising what they had already written. Instead of saying that I will resign for health reasons, I'll be telling the American people that I simply cannot focus on my job after all that happened in England. And that is true. Admittedly, I will omit the part about having Alzheimer's disease, but that's not really important right now. What is important is that my daughter is dead and her husband, my Chief of Staff, will be tried as a traitor. Both of which are so painful to say out loud that I'm not sure how I will manage to do so. That is why the message will be recorded. For the first time since I was elected, I don't believe that I can face the American people on live television. If that is a show of weakness, I sincerely apologize to Audrey.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I notice that I'm a little short of breath. That's unusual for me. As I said, my mind may be failing but I'm otherwise healthy as an ox. It's one of the things that scares me. I could lose my mind in a matter of months but have my body continue to function for another decade or more. I don't want to live that way. Funny, one of my biggest concerns was for Audrey to have to see me that way. I never liked the idea that she would walk into my room and I wouldn't recognize her. Some problems solve themselves.
As I recover from the walk up the stairs I see the crew of Air Force One standing at attention. Just like my staff, they all look sad. The captain, a career Air Force officer who has flown countless combat missions, approaches me and salutes. He's battle-hardened but at the moment this tough-as-nails airman looks to be on the verge of tears. He clears his throat, swallows hard and speaks in a clear voice befitting his position, "On behalf of the entire crew, Sir, I'd like to offer our condolences. I've flown this plane for three presidents and I can tell you that Mrs. Boudreau was by far the kindest, gentlest woman to grace any of those administrations. Her death is an unspeakable tragedy and she will be missed by every one of us." He paused and swallowed hard again. "We're going to give her a nice, smooth ride home, Sir. The airspace has been cleared. I have clearance to take off as soon as everyone is seated."
I nod my thanks and reach out to shake his hand. I'm still a bit breathless and his tribute chokes me up enough that I can't speak. I simply walk to the back of the plane and sit in the seat nearest my daughter. I strap myself in absently while I stare at the casket. After take-off I move toward my private quarters. Again, all I want is to be alone.
"Mr. President," Ron says, stopping me as I open the door. "I'm sure you want to get some rest right now, but here's a copy of your speech. Let me know if you want to make any changes. We'd like to record it in about two hours. Do you need to talk to the Vice President?"
"The transition team in place. There's nothing more for us to discuss. We can talk when I get back to the White House. I'll look over the speech and I don't want to be disturbed." I take the proffered folder bearing the Presidential seal and close the door behind me.
The last twelve hours have been ghastly, to borrow a term from my British counterpart, Alastair. I toss the folder on a table and sit on my favorite sofa. I press my hand against my chest which is aching. I have heartburn that I'm attributing to this morning's coffee. It occurs to me that I have eaten nothing today. I know that I should ask for something to eat, but I'm not hungry. I am, however, very tired. I reach into my breast pocket and pull out the picture that Audrey and I were looking at yesterday, the one of Audrey, her mother and me at the beach. Again I marvel at how beautiful she was as a child and what a beautiful woman she grew up to be. Tears cloud my vision and I can no longer control them. I cry until I am breathless, clutching the picture to my heart, and eventually I fall asleep.
I'm not sure how long I slept but I woke with a start. At first I'm not sure what woke me but I sit up suddenly and as I do, I realize what it was. I have a sharp, deep pain in my chest that radiates into my jaw. I can't get my breath. I reach for a bottle of water on the table next to me but can't get it. As I reach out, I drop the beach picture. At the moment it is my lifeline to Audrey. I must have it back. I lean down to get it and I fall to the floor as my hand closes around the picture. I lie there for several seconds and realize that I can't get up on my own. I'm out of breath and the pain in my chest in overwhelming. I'm dizzy and nauseas. I know I should call out. There is an emergency button that I can press to summon help but I don't bother to do that. I know full well what is happening and I have no desire to stop it. I'm not sure how long I lay on the floor, but eventually I hear Ron knocking on the door. I don't respond because I no longer can. He eventually lets himself in and I can hear him shouting, "Mr. President! Mr. President!" He runs from the room calling for the doctor that travels with my entourage.
Ron drops to his knees next to me and shakes me. "Mr. President! Stay with me. Focus on me." Weren't those the words the Agent Morgan told me she said to Audrey?
I can hear commotion all around me. Everyone is talking at once. I can't make out what they are saying and I'm not sure that I care. I feel someone remove my tie and open my shirt. I can feel a cold stethoscope on my chest. I'm being moved back up to the sofa when suddenly there's a bright light in my eyes but my eyes are closed. I look toward the light and I see Audrey. She's smiling and radiant. What a beauty she is! Her smile lights up my world as it has since the first time she smiled a few weeks after birth. "Dad," she said. "Stay with me. Focus on me." I can feel myself smile back at her. "I'm here, Dad. Stay with me."
I feel the pull. The doctor is trying to keep me alive while Audrey is trying to get me to follow her. It's an easy choice. I can feel myself smile as I follow her. She embraces me and I know that I am finally home.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed despite the fact that this isn't a happy story. For now this chapter will stand alone but I'm considering additional chapters to examine the point of view of some other characters. If you've taken the time to read, I'd really appreciate it if you would review. I'm a review junkie and I need you to feed my habit!