Day 3: From The Vaults of Heaven: A 24-Alias Crossover
By DavidB226Morris
Summary: It's 20 months after Day 2. Sydney Bristow works for CTU and Jack Bauer works for APO. CTU Is working in conjunction to make sure the signing of an important anti-ballistic missile treaty goes off. Little do they know that protecting President Palmer will be the least of their problems. It's going to be another one of those days.
Rating: Probably closer to R for violence and extreme language.
Disclaimer: Jack Bauer, President David Palmer and the rest of the team at CTU belong to Joel Surnow and all the staff at Real Time Productions. Sydney Bristow, Nadia Santos and any other characters from Alias who pop up are the property of J.J. Abrams and all the geniuses who worked on Alias. I continue to borrow them, with lower investment rates.
Argument: All right, this shouldn't be that hard to follow. This is a sequel to my piece Day 2 Reloaded, and the bridge piece, "The Space Between." For those of you who missed them, enjoy.
In the present: Sydney is working at CTU: Sydney is Director of Technical Operations, Tony, Michelle and Chloe are also all working at CTU, more or less in the same positions that they held in the original Day 3. APO still exists under the supervision of Jack Bauer. As for relationships, Sydney and Vaughn have been married eighteen months, and Jack Bauer and Nadia are engaged.
Two more things, and then we will get this story started: President Palmer and the people surrounding him will be playing a bigger role in this story, and the characters I mentioned aren't going to be the only figures from either series showing up.
For the record, Kim Bauer will be handled in this story the way her development went in the series—she was never stupid, just a teenager. By day 3, she even passed for competent against Sylar—um, Adam. Here, the process of her emotional development is speeded up so there are NO cougar moments.
All right. The clock is running
Chapter 1
The Following Takes Place Between 6:00 A.M. and 7:00 A.M.
The shadows of night still covered much of California, and a good portion of the state was still asleep. Certainly the few people in the small hub that surrounded Cayuga, a small town basically built around a commercial airstrip in the Santa Susana mountains, was mostly still in their beds. Two of the town's restaurants were opening for the early shift, the box factory that made up a good part of Cayuga's industry was being opened by the local security guard, and of course a handful of the graveyard shift at the airstrip, at but that was basically it. Even the paperboy hadn't yet had his breakfast.
So less than a handful of people were up when the dark blue Cessna lowered its landing gear, and began to radio the tower. And of those people, only the two men in the tower noticed that something might be amiss.
Lewis looked at the radar. "That's an awful big plane up there, Marty," he told his partner.
"We've been working together here five years, and yet I'm constantly amazed at your powers of observation," Marty replied.
"I'm being serious here. The plane's nearly twice the size of the compacts we usually get," Lewis pointed out, "it's practically large enough to be a jet."
"Don't be an idiot, Lew, if it were a jet it would have had to radio in ten minutes ago." Marty paused. "Still, you are right, it is a big mother. And according to this," he picked up the clapboard, "it's not on today's schedule."
"An unscheduled jumbo," Lewis said. "Well, it ain't like this field runneth over with traffic." He got on the radio. "This is Cayuga Air Field. You are cleared to begin your decent on Landing Field A."
"Roger that," the radio said, "this is Flight two-nine-six beginning its descent."
On average, Cayuga saw a plane every three days, and the majority of them were small private planes built for three or four people. This plane was nearly big enough to be a private jet, and was big enough to hold three dozen passengers--- the kind that generally lands at commercial airfields. Some more astute controller might have questioned this aircraft appearance as suspicious, but neither of the two controllers had enough experience to know this.
And what nobody at Cayuga Air Field knew was that while they were giving these instructions in the tower, others were listening in.
"Wait a minute, this looks like it could be it," Vaughn told the other man in the car.
"I hope so," Dixon. responded. "Otherwise this whole stakeout would be a waste of time."
He took out his binoculars and tried to look through the slowly brightening sky for the aircraft that was going to be landing. "I've gotta tell you, Vaughn, this whole assignment isn't doing wonders for my comfort level. We're a black-ops unit, what the hell are we doing on domestic soil?"
Vaughn gave a small smile. "You know, you could just ask your girlfriend," he said coolly.
"I don't think that Director Chase would be happy that particular information is widely known." Dixon smiled despite himself.
"You want me to tell my wife that?" Vaughn replied.
"Seriously, there are at least a half dozen other agencies that are far more qualified and have more manpower to do this kind of surveillance and identification. Why did we draw the short straw?"
"Probably because every other security group in the country is watching what's going on in LA right now," Vaughn replied. "We're one of the few units that are still operating at full strength "
"Yeah, but full strength for us isn't a quarter of what even a part of the government's other agencies could bring to the party," Dixon argued. "I mean, if these people really are on the inter-agency watch-list, we should have this airfield surrounded, rather than backed up by only three other field units. At the very least, those damn fool controllers should know what the hell they might be waving into the country."
"Did you express any of these reservations to Jack?"
"I did," Dixon admitted. "He said, according to Division and District, they need a low-profile team to gather intel on a major terrorist group, which is practically this unit's trademark." Dixon paused. "However, he was pretty sure that someone went over Director Chase's head to get us assigned to this."
Vaughn didn't like this at all. Whenever someone higher up in the hierarchy of the agency had pulled rank on them over the two years, there was an excellent chance that they were being set up. Unfortunately, before he could voice this argument, the runway lights on the air strip went on. According to the radio, the plane was at five hundred feet and on its final approach
"Looks like our job can't wait any longer," he said. Clicking on the radio. "Attention all field units, target is about to begin landing."
6:06:33/6:06:34/6:06:35
"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, the captain has informed me that we will be landing in Los Angeles in the next fifteen minutes," Lynn Kresge said over the loudspeaker. "Upon landing there will be a short conference at which both the President and our Congressional delegation will be briefly available before we travel to the Western White House. Until then, the pilot asks that you fasten your seatbelts and turn off all cell phones and other electronic equipment."
"All right, I'll tell him about this," Mike Novick said into his cell, "but the President doesn't respond well to being put into this position. And, to be frank, I'm not thrilled with it either." He terminated the call, and walked back to the central cabin, where he knew the President would be looking over the final copies of his speech.
When he entered, however, he found that the President was standing in front of the window, watching the sunrise. Not for the first time, the President's chief of staff noticed how much older his friend had become over the past three years. But then, he was well aware of the effect the Presidency had on the men who served in it.
"You get any sleep, Mr. President?"
A smile played on David Palmer's mouth. "You should know better than to ask a question like that, Mike," he said quietly. "There aren't enough hours in the day to get the rest I'd need to do this job."
"How exactly are you holding up, sir?"
"Well, I have to stand witness to the signing of a major anti-ballistic missile treaty between Russia and China," the President began, only half-seriously. "Then I have to meet with some of the people who are very disappointed with this term, and convince them I haven't sold them down the river, and then I have to announce that I'm running for re-election." Now the smile disappeared. "And I have to convince myself I'm not doing all this while walking over Sherry's grave. So, no my mood is not congenial."
"All due respect, Mr. President," Mike said, "I never understood why you wanted the treaty signed here. Camp David would have been far less of a headache, geographically and spiritually."
There was another silence. "I haven't been back to Los Angeles since the day Sherry was killed," the President began. "Even if the world does understand the reason, I can't afford to waste what little capital I have in the biggest state in the union."
"That's what you've told the press. I was hoping you'd give a friend a better one."
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." The President walked over to one of the chairs and sat down. "I don't sleep well for a lot of reasons, Mike, and I'm smart enough know that most of my demons come back to Sherry. I know that I didn't bear any responsibility for her numerous betrayals, but in my soul, I know that if I done something, any number of things after I divorced her, she wouldn't have had to turn away from everything she once held dear. There's no academic reason for me to feel this way, but I think doing some immense good in a place where a great sin occurred, perhaps I can exorcise a few demons; maybe I'll sleep a little better. "
The President considered his words. "Now that I've said it aloud, it makes me sound rather selfish, doesn't it?"
Mike gave a small smile. "Mr. President, you're one of the most self-sacrificing people I've ever met," he said honestly. "If anything, I think you're entitled to a little selfishness."
President Palmer considered this. "I'm not sure whether I'm being complimented or insulted," he said with a small grin.
"I think you know me well enough to know what that was."
"I also know you well enough to be aware that you didn't come in here to take my mental temperature." The President took a more business-like attitude. "Do we have a problem?"
"You do," Mike admitted, "but since it's political rather than international, I think we can handle it after we're on the ground,"
"This trip is political, in case you've forgotten," the President pointed out.
"There's going to be a lot happening today, Mr. President. Right now we need to focus on the press."
When the aircraft had landed at Cayuga, thirty-nine passengers deplaned. Furthermore, nearly half of them were clearly Asian--- a rather unusual disparity for any non-commercial flight. Had someone from a more upscale security agency been there, warning bells would have started to go off.
But there was only one security guard for the Cayuga airstrip, the paperwork for the plane, the pilot and the passengers were in order, and the guards shift was supposed to have ended ten minutes ago. So he did what so many people did in similar situations---- he passed the buck to the next shift.
"So much for getting a hand from security, " Dixon told Vaughn. "Let's just hope that they don't have a bus waiting to pick them up."
By now the sky was half lit with the sunrise, so Vaughn took out the photo-capturing device that Marshall had provided them with, and began to capture their images on a digital camera. "All units begin data imaging process. Begin computerized identification scan, as many as you can as fast as you can."
6:18:12/6:18:13/6:18:14/6:18:15
"What do you mean, you still haven't got a hold of Homeland Security readings for the last hour?" Chloe O'Brian said into the phone. "I don't care that you've been backed up on the background checks, Air Force One is going to land any minute and when they find out we don't have any locations for the names on the Chinese terrorist watch list, they're going to be more pissed than I am!"
Because Sydney Bristow had spent the better part of her career in intelligence dealing with a particularly scattered tech support agent, she was probably far more tolerant of Chloe's personality than anybody else. She was also probably the only one who was capable of massaging the mixture of quirks that made up their Internet Protocol Manager. So, before either Tony or Michelle could intervene and push the wrong buttons (and frankly, figuring out which buttons were the wrong ones could be a daily thing) she walked over to Chloe.
"Give me the phone," she told her.
"I can handle this," Chloe insisted.
"I know you can. Unfortunately, we're still going to need your husband's help before the day is over, so could you please let me handle this?"
Chloe did so with only a modicum of resistance.
"Hello, Morris, this is Sydney." There was a pause. "I believe we've established in previous conversations that calling your superior 'love' is not the appropriate address." Sydney could feel Morris wilting across the circuit board. "That's better. Now, by my best estimation, you have less then twenty minutes before the inter-agency security briefing. You can utilize your time in one of two ways: you can either gather all of the necessary intelligence so that CTU is prepared about the major Chinese insurrection groups, or you can start retooling your resume, because if you can't accomplish the former, I will kick you so far out on your ass, that you'll be back to working in women's retail. Are we crystal clear on this?"
"Um, um, absolutely, Miss Bristow—Mrs. Vaughn—yes," Morris managed to get out.
"What are you waiting for, a written invitation?"
Morris hung up.
"I was perfectly capable of handling that myself," Chloe said. "But thanks for scaring the shit out of my husband."
Sydney looked at Chloe. "I'm guessing that the bloom is off the rose with your marriage?" she asked rhetorically.
"Well, that makes the assumption there was ever a bloom to begin with," Chloe said with her usually pensive look. "Sydney, what exactly is it that you and your sister have that I don't?"
"You mean aside from dark hair and treason inherited from our mother's side of the family?" Sydney said bluntly.
"You know what I mean," Chloe pressed. "You're married to Vaughn and you've got a kid, Nadia's going to marry to Jack, hell Michelle and Tony'll probably get married soon enough; you all work in the same profession, hell, the same building in most cases, and you manage to keep it all together on and off the job. Morris and I can barely manage to be civil to each other from across town."
Though she managed to maintain a poker face, Sydney was a little shocked by Chloe's sudden openness. She thought that she was one of the woman's few friends on the job, and Chloe went to great lengths to keep from talking to her about her problems, work-related or otherwise. Something was definitely wrong in the O'Brian household to bring this on. Unfortunately, as much as she wanted to follow this train wherever it went, this was absolutely the worst possible time to be talking about personal stuff.
As if to confirm this, Michelle walked over to the other women, and demanded: "Sydney, where are we on the watch-list?"
Sydney wasn't surprised that Chloe responded so fast. "We have five in custody, and are monitoring three more: Tzu Chen was spotted in Madrid, Lee Yuen was seen in London, and Vladimir Ilich was caught on a security monitor entering Toronto."
"That leaves three names: Cheng Zhymou, Martine De Boris and Li Chin Wang." Michelle summarized.
"They've been harder to track," Sydney admitted. "We expect confirmation from Homeland Security within the next half-hour, but all three have been off the radar for the past two weeks. Our friends at NSA have been monitoring the some of the backchannels; I'm scheduled to go through their data stream in the next ten minutes."
Michelle nodded. "All right. Get on that, and then have Chloe forward it to the main room in ten minutes. The President wants to be briefed as soon as the initial press conference is finished."
6:25:39/6:25:40/6:25:41
When he had taken Arvin Sloane's position as head of APO, and to help try and put the pieces of their lives back together, Jack Bauer had offered his daughter an internship working tech support while she finished the Los Angeles GED exam. Kim had wanted to try and put the pieces back together as much as her father did, and APO was a chance for a (relatively) clean slate.
It had become clear pretty quickly that she had an aptitude for the computer skills and for many of the other intricacies that made up a good counterintelligence work, and though she was only seventeen, most of the people at APO had recommended her to begin the process that would lead to her becoming a full-fledged agent in roughly the amount of time it would take for her to graduate college. Jack had been a little more reluctant to sign off on that, but Sydney and Nadia had advocated for her, and he finally agreed.
Part of the main reason that she had agreed to do so was because she liked working with Marshall Flinkman, APO's resident tech expert, and arguably the smartest man she had ever met. He had recognized her genius early on, and had been a huge supporter of her. There was just one real problem working with him—you had to get used to the many quirks which irritated superiors but endeared him to his friends. These behavioral oddities were more than apparent when she walked into his office to ask him about something connected with the operation at Cayuga Air Field, and found him peering over his office with what looked like some kind of thermal imaging device.
"Oh, ah, " he started, taking off the headgear, "this isn't what it looks like."
"It couldn't possibly be," Kim said wryly.
"I mean I'm not using advanced CIA technology to try and look for, um, a crimson Tyrannosaurus Rex that I think I accidentally picked up while I was getting all my stuff together two hours ago when I came into the office, and, that was no picnic, because turning the lights on woke up Mitchell, and he started crying, which woke up Eric and he started crying, which woke up my wife, and she started crying, and now I think the future happiness of my marriage may rest on me finding—"
"This?" Kim said, picking up a plastic red dinosaur, which she had located attached to the dartboard that for some reason Marshall kept in his office, while he had gone on his verbal meandering.
"Oh, great, thanks Kim, I mean this is literally a lifesaver," he said, plucking it from Kim's hand. "How the heck did you find it?"
"In addition to being a highly qualified agent, I am also a very skilled babysitter," Kim reminded Marshall, "which you should know as I sat for Eric and Mitchell a week ago."
"I'm sorry," Marshall said walking back to his desk. "I'm just, I love my kids, I mean, I'd do anything for them, well, maybe not high treason, but man they can make a racket when they put their minds to it. I've gotten maybe six hours of sleep in the last three days."
"Thank God you work in a job where you don't need to tax your intellect that hard," Kim replied only half in jest.
Marshall looked around. "Are we having some problem with the video feed up at Cayuga?" he asked.
"No, that's working fine. The problem is with the database. Apparently, there were thirty-nine people on that aircraft, according to our surveillance, and so far, we only have identification of eleven."
"Any big players among them?" Marshall asked
"Four of them register on the Agency watch-list, as being tied to known terror groups in the Far East." Kim replied. "Problem is, our data on Chinese terrorists is still pretty scattered. My father's calling some of the Agency higher-ups to access for their terror list."
"So why come to me?"
"The other seven that we identified are known criminals who were arrested and charged for crimes while on foreign soil," Kim said. "This leads me to believe that the others on the airplane have criminal records too, only problem is that they're behind the Iron Curtain. We can't hack into Chinese intelligence files without the right people speaking for us."
"But there's no law saying that we can't tap into the Chinese penal records," Marshall said thoughtfully.
"I'd do it myself, but I'm not at a high enough clearance level, and I'm not up on my Chinese."
"Hang on one second." Marshall came out from around his desk. "Your father sign off on this?"
"Not officially, but I have a feeling if we find what we need, he'll be very understanding." Kim said, as they walked over to Marshall's computer.
Just at that moment, Kim's cell rang. "Kim Bauer," she said.
"It's Dixon. We've got a problem at the airfield."
"Have they made you?"
"I don't know, but a blue van pulled up to the far end of the runway, picked up eight or nine of them, and started to drive towards the western exit. There are only five other units here, and we don't want to begin surveillance without gathering suspicion."
By now, Kim had walked over to her station. "What do you need me to do?"
"I need you to re-task the nearest satellite to Cayuga, find out where that van's going, and map us the quickest back door so for a unit to shadow it." Dixon replied.
"I'm on it."
"And notify your father. If they've started to leave, that means the rest aren't going to be that far behind them. We need to have a plan once they've all left en masse."
6:33:51/6:33:52/6:33:53/6:33:54
Before the flight had taken off the previous night, President Palmer had made it clear that he would not be answering questions until they were at the Western White House and the remaining delegations, national and international, arrived. Because the press had an innate respect for David Palmer's treatment of the media, and because they were going to be covering the story all day, the White House Press Corps did not deluge the President with questions as he walked to his limousine. Unfortunately, the Republican members of the Congressional delegation did not play by the Marquis of Queensbury rules, and several of them—including the Chairman of the House Armed Services Committee—had no problem manipulating the press
Mike had known that this was the way the President wanted to play this, but that didn't stop him from walking up to him and saying: "I told you that there were going to be problems bringing him along."
"He was going to be a problem, no matter what," the President said, as James Heller flashed one of his trademark grins at the handful of reporters that were surrounding him. "Besides, without his help I'd never have gotten the treaty out of Congress."
"Mr. President, he's the enemy."
"I've known James Heller for more than fifteen years," the President said as he ducked into the limo. "He's one of the country's great patriots. The fact that he's a Republican makes him the opposition, not the enemy."
"In an election year, they're one and the same and you know it," Mike said. "If you're not careful, he's going to use today to get himself a clean shot at your job."
"This isn't going to win a lot of the right kind of hearts and minds in Ames and Manchester, Mike," the President pointed out. "Besides, we're three months away from the first caucuses, and he's way behind Keeler in the polls."
"Still—"
"Mike, Heller's probably going to be a problem, but that's down the road. I've got enough to worry about with my own campaign today without concerning myself with helping his. Agreed?"
Mike nodded reluctantly, and got into the limo beside the President.
"Lynn," the President told his other chief adviser, "are we ready for the security briefing?"
"Yes, Mr. President." Lynn said, as she turned towards the monitor in the middle of the limousine.
"Mr. President, this is Tony Almeida. You also have Michelle Dessler and Sydney Bristow on the line."
"Mr. Almeida, what do you have for us?"
"All right then, over the past two weeks, NSA and CIA have monitoring terrorist chatter," Tony began "There has been a minimum of chatter over the past week in regards to this conference --- until six hours ago, when we intercepted an encrypted communication from Shanghai to Seattle from Hsu Kar-Wai, a member of several radical Chinese groups, and known associate of Li Chen Wang, a member of the terrorist watch list, and one of the leaders of Scarlet Circle."
"They were responsible for a string off bombings across the Nanking province earlier this year," Sydney reminded the President.
"And it took you this long to crack the code?" Novick asked.
"The message was encrypted with a Z3 shifting algorithm," Tony said. "It's one of the hardest codes to break. When we finally we broke it, it read like something that had been translated from English to Chinese and then back to English. We were lucky that we managed to read it at all."
"What did the message say?" asked the President.
"That Wang was in the country, and that he was preparing to move a great number of men inside California for some kind of action today." Michelle said.
"Do you have any more information?"
"Only that it was some multi-pronged attack and the first strike was to come some time in the next hour."
There was a pause as the people in the Presidential limo considered this. "President Suvarov and Premier En Lai are scheduled to land at the retreat within that timeframe," Novick pointed out. "Are you saying that they could be potential targets?"
"We can't rule it out, sir," Tony admitted. "And since both planes are currently within American airspace, we think that it might be advisable to scramble some F-18's from Landers Air Field."
"Can you get that done quick enough for it to mean anything?" the President countered. "For that matter, I'm pretty sure that their flight paths are known only to Russian and Chinese intelligence. It's going to take a lot of effort to get them to reveal this information based on what is a very vague threat assessment."
At this point Sydney, who had kept one eye on her computer screen, filtered through the hourly reports that she'd had Chloe filter through her screen. "Mr. President, I just received an hourly report from the local airfields. A little more than half an hour ago, a Cessna jumbo 7 landed at an airstrip in a town called Cayuga in the Santa Susana mountains."
"Where did it come from?" Kresge asked.
"We're not sure. "The port of origin was supposedly from Burbank, but Burbank has no listing of any aircraft of that size or class departing in the last twelve hours."
"How big was the plane?" asked Tony
"Big enough to hold more than three dozen passengers," Sydney said.
"Any bells or whistles set off by the passenger manifest?" asked Tony.
"Hold on a second," Sydney tapped some key in front of her. "None of the passenger names are on the watch-list, but there's evidence to suggest that the security guards there didn't perform due diligence, and may have just waved them in."
"You're telling me the FAA just let these people waltz out of the air?" Novick asked.
"Place is in the middle of nowhere," Sydney admitted. "My guess is there wasn't that much security to slip around."
"Great," Tony said sarcastically. "A hundred billion dollars spent on airline security, and we get screwed over because some hick from upstate wants to clock out early."
"Miss Bristow, where exactly is Cayuga?" the President asked
"Approximately ten miles from LA." Sydney replied, "which means they could be in the city limits right now."
6:44:50/6:44:51/6:44:52
It had taken four large vans to carry all of the passengers, but when the last one was arriving on the scene, the man who had made the first call received another one.
"You have been made," said the voice on the other end simply.
"How sure are you of this?" the caller asked.
"I'm texting the approximate locations of three vehicles that are around the airport right this minute."
The man with the cell took out a PDA, and his eyes narrowed when he saw it.
"You know what needs to be done," the caller said before hanging up.
Vaughn got off the phone "They've gotten on top of the third van, which means as soon as this one leaves…"
He trailed off as he saw that Dixon was looking directly at the van. Unlike the previous three vehicles, passengers were not getting in it, but they were taking stuff out of it, and the stuff was definitely not Flowers by Mail.
Fortunately both the agents had quick reflexes. By the time the first Chinese terrorists started firing on their own car, both had jumped out of it, well before the assault rifle fire had shattered the windshield.
Dixon and Vaughn managed to get to their own weapons out. The problem was, they were only carrying Glocks. The higher power assault weapons were still in the car, and right now, there was zero chance of getting to them.
"Mayday! Mayday!" Dixon shouted into his radio. "Agent Vaughn and I are pinned down by enemy fire at the southeast quadrant of the airstrip!" He tried to find cover as two of the terrorists fired upon him. "Send all available backup to meet us at the eastern edge of the airport!"
Vaughn knew that this was more whistling in the dark. Only five units had been dispatched to Cayuga Air Field. Two of them were now on the highway trying to trail two of the vans that had pulled out. The third could be anywhere between the highway and the airfield. That left them with only one other vehicle, on the northern side of the quadrant. And Vaughn could see that the van was headed in that direction with two more shooters inside, no doubt bent on eliminating them.
Someone had clearly ratted them out; this was too organized to be mere luck. Unfortunately, there was a very good chance that they were going to die before being able to warn them.
"The other backup vehicle been taken out!" Kim said, as she ran over to the monitor, hardly believing how quickly their well-planned operation was falling apart.
"Dixon sent out an emergency distress call. He and Vaughn have been caught in the web."
"This means we've only got one option left," Kim said, as she made the only call she could.
6:51:07/6:51:08/6:51:09/6:51:10
If the drivers in the van had wanted to kill the government agents, it would have been very easy for them to do so--- there were ten people from the plane still on the ground, and there were only five people from APO at the airstrip. But right now, killing the government agents was a secondary protocol: they were to wreck the airfield and meet up with their colleagues at the appointed position.
So, after dropping off four heavily armed fighters to dispatch the remaining agents, the van peeled off and headed towards the easternmost exit.
As soon as they were out of range, the man who had made all the communications that had gotten them this far dialed the last number on his speed-dial.
"What has gone wrong?" the voice on the other end said simply.
"We're safely away." the caller said simply, "but before we left, we learned that the government knew about our presence at the airfield."
"And?"
"We needed to leave four men behind to take them out and sanitize the location."
"So what you're telling me, Hsu, is that the government has been made aware of our presence in the country, and in order to escape, you sacrificed four men and had to scorch an airport," the voice said icily. "What part of 'keeping this low-profile' didn't you understand?"
"Sir, by now the rest of the people are in position----"
"I know how this is supposed to work," the voice is said in an even colder tone.
"I spent a year designing this plan. Don't tell me you've fucked it up at zero hour! Just get to your location before the next phase is to begin. And Hsu," he added, "there will be a reckoning for your mistake."
With that the caller hung up.
Both Dixon and Vaughn saw the vehicle tear out, but could do nothing about it—they were pinned down by four terrorists armed with AZ7s. Two were sweeping to their immediate left; the others were heading down to their immediate right, and they were going to get hung between the blankets of fire.
"How many clips do you have?" Dixon demanded.
"Just one," Vaughn said simply. "I think our best chance is for one of us to make a break for it, kill one of the shooters on the left, and get their weapon and ammo!"
Dixon fired two of his shots at one of the terrorists on his left flank. One of them managed to wing him in the shoulder but he gave no sign of weakening. "Give me cover, and I'll give it a try!"
Vaughn would've argued, but they didn't have a time, and Dixon had more bullets than he did. He ducked behind one of the gates they had been parked near, and signaled for Dixon to move.
Like a star center, Dixon faked left and went right, firing three shots into the shoulder and stomach of one of the terrorists on his left flank. The other one pulled to the right and fired a stream of bullets at Dixon, who hit the dirt just in time.
Vaughn tried to shoot in three directions at once. He knew that he could off the remaining terrorist on his left flank with some trouble. However, pinning down the two coming on his other side would be next to impossible. Hopefully, Dixon would be get to an assault weapon and be able to lay down a stream of covering fire. That was a pretty big 'hopefully", but right now they needed luck to be on their side.
Vaughn put in his last clip, and fired three quick shots at the remaining terrorist. One of them managed to wing him, which gave Dixon long enough to grab the assault rifle. He managed to squeeze off a round of shots at the terrorists approaching Vaughn's other side, but this only slowed them it didn't stop them
Come on, Michael thought to himself, where's the motherfucking cavalry?
And it was at that instant that an Agency chopper flew over them and began to open a stream of covering fire. In less than ten seconds, the two terrorists on their left flank were both dead.
"Christ, Jack!" Dixon yelled out. "What were you waiting for: a written invitation?"
Jack Bauer could have given any number of answers: he chose the most succinct one. "Please don't tell me that there's one who got away!"
Vaughn had just gotten to his feet, when he saw that Jack's eyesight was good—the last remaining terrorist was running like hell. "Dixon!" he shouted, as the chopper lowered to the ground
Dixon was about to squeeze the trigger on the rifle when something happened that was only shocking in that hadn't happened five minutes earlier.
The plane that had carried all the terrorists here blew up.
Fortunately, the APO agents were on the other side of the airport when the explosion came. That was the only positive, though, as the bomb blew up half the control tower and part of another plane. The explosion of that killed the one remaining terrorist.
The problem with this job was it didn't give you any time to recover. "Vaughn, go through the bodies on the ground; I want pictures and fingerprints taken and sent back to APO! Dixon, get on the line with search and rescue; we need to get people shifting through the rubble now!"
As the two other agents got started, Jack took out his cell, and dialed one more number.
"Sydney," he said to his future-sister-in-law, "this is Jack."
There was a pause on the other end before Bristow said, "Why am I not surprised you're calling?"
"I need you to get CTU ready for a major meeting. A lot of shit has just hit the fan, and I don't think we're anywhere close to finished. I think we're in for another long day."
At the other end, Sydney Bristow looked to Almeida and said, "Tony, it's one of those days again."
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