This is the sequal to Defeat. Clever name huh! Not so confident with this, so all comments are greatfully recieved!
Something was wrong. He could feel it in his stomach, despite the effects of the numbing agent they had injected into him as soon as they had moved him onto the plane. He looked around worriedly, where was Kim? He looked down and realised they had cuffed him to the stretcher, why had they done that? Had they lied to him, he panicked, as he began to call out Kim's name. His voice was slurred and sounded foreign to his own ears; what was happening to him?
Chase! Chase was there, he'd help him. He yelled out for him, but the man didn't hear it. He was sat only a row or to away, why couldn't he hear him? He screamed out as loud as his sore throat would allow. He had been given a drink of water after he made the recording and signed the confession, but his throat wasn't healed yet after weeks of raw dryness. Was he ignoring him?
As though reading his thoughts Chase suddenly turned around, his eyes didn't meet Jacks as he pushed up from the chair and moved over to the stretcher. It was strapped to the floor so it wouldn't move about as the plane took off, but like the cuffs it only worried him. Chase stood a foot away and placed a hand on the stretchers white blanket, the one they had covered him with earlier when he had began to panic. The medics had thought he was cold, but he was shaking with doubt. He hadn't been able to believe they were letting him go; now he feared this to be true.
He looked down at the hand, his eyes zooming in on the thick scar which circled his wrist, before he noticed how strong the hand was as it clutched the blanket, it was trembling. Chases face slowly lifted up to face his own, Jack swallowed. Something wasn't right here, this wasn't Chase. Why was he trembling in anger, had he hurt him?
The younger man leaned over as he sneered into his ear.
"What have you done Jack?" His voice was harsh at first, but worry filtered through it. He was speaking with disbelief to the one man he thought would never give in to the enemy. "How could you do this to us?"
Confusion danced around Jacks mind as he looked up at this man, wanting to understand his words but not having the bravery to question him. The room was slowly starting to spin and Chases face was swirling before him. He tried to speak but he couldn't form words, they were alien to him.
"Kim's gone because of this, the humiliation you brought upon her. She can't stand the embarrassment you have brought upon the United States of America."
Chase stared at him menacingly as the pain in his leg suddenly grew more fierce. He couldn't understand why, but when he looked over the mans shoulder he saw Chow. Heading right towards him.
He tried to get away, fear controlling him as he fought with the restraints but he couldn't move. Each time he tried to shift the pain flared up even more in his leg. Why was it there at all, when the medics said they had given him something to take it away?
He quickly realised he was trapped. He looked fleetingly at Chase but his heart sank when he saw his old partner move aside, allowing Chow access to him.
"Chase?" He finally called, but the man ignored him, taking his seat once more as Chow reached him, standing before him, his face expressionless.
"Thank you Bauer," he said smugly, "now we have the right to assassinate your former President. Today is a joyous day for all of our people."
"Wh… what!" Jack stammered, as he watched the same guards who had tortured him drag David Palmer in.
What was happening here? Why hadn't they taken off, why was Chow on board. How had they gotten Palmer here; they would never have the authority to abduct him. But to kill him! That was absurd, Secret Service would be swarming over him.
"None of this would have happened, if you hadn't been so helpful to us," Chow added, patting his knee gently before removing his gun from his concealed holster.
"No!" Jack cried, but it was useless.
Palmer was dragged right up to the stretcher. He looked at Jack with sad eyes. He wasn't upset for himself, in his usual dignified manor he would take his punishment. But his eyes, they were filled with disappointment and shame.
"I'm sorry I ever trusted you Jack," Palmer said sadly, not being able to meet the mans eyes. He was disgusted beyond belief. "How could you do this to me? To your country? How could you do this to yourself Jack?"
Jack looked down as guilt embraced him, what had he done? Before he could reply he herd the sound of a single shot echo through the air, before the soft thump filled the silence.
Jack looked up shocked, Palmer was laid on the floor on his side, his face a mass of blood and matter. He was dead. They had killed him. Why had they killed him! How could they do this! He began to struggle again as he panicked; what had he done?
He struggled again as Chow moved over to him, the gun still in his hand, smoke still creeping from the barrel as he handled it nonchalantly.
"Palmer took his punishment Bauer, but we still need somebody to show to our people, your not free after all."
"What!" Jack began to shout and yell as the Chinese guards began to drag him back off of the plane. He could see the prison, his unit, he could see his own living hell. When he started to fight Chase rose from his seat; finally, he felt relief.
Until Chase spoke, that was.
"I'll take him down," he said as he grabbed Jacks arms and began to drag him down the unfolded steps.
"This is more than you deserve Jack. You killed David Palmer, how can you live with yourself!"
"I didn't," he cried as he kicked and screamed, "It wasn't me, I couldn't help it."
He could feel the hands shaking him as he thrashed on the ground, unwilling to go back to his cell. "It wasn't me, I had no choice," he yelled, as though his words could save him.
The hands continued to shake him until he jolted awake in a fury of panic, sweat clinging to his clothes as he continued to thrash against the restraints. He could hear voices in the background but he ignored them, he didn't want to hear Chase condemn him anymore. He looked down to see what it was that was preventing him from escaping.
Sheets. His jumpsuit was replaced with black shorts and an overly baggy tee. The sun backed dirt was a soft green carpet, and the guards fighting to take him away were in fact Kim and Sarah his nurse, trying to wake him up.
The struggle stopped immediately, once he realised where he was. He was hot, his skin clammy and his clothes sticking to him. He accepted the help as he was pulled back up into his bed; the cast on his leg too heavy for him to move, he was still far too weak to move himself around unassisted.
Kim busied herself picking up the few items that had been scattered around the room in his struggle, to try save him some embarrassment. She began to mop up the water which had been spilt when he had knocked the vase of flowers to the floor. Jacks face reddened as he looked away, but he wasn't too embarrassed to meet Sarah's eyes.
She was fiddling with the thermometer before slipping it under his arm as she held the back of her hand against his forehead checking the heat. She looked at him sadly as she waited for him to speak.
"It happened again," he muttered quietly before closing his eyes as his exhaustion lulled him back to sleep.