DISCLAIMER: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation, a subsidiary of Twenty-First Century Fox Inc., owns 24. I have no affiliation whatsoever with Twenty-First Century Fox Inc. or with any of its subsidiaries (including 20th Century Fox), and I make no claim whatsoever to any stake in the ownership of 24 or of any of its canon characters.
As I sit in this helicopter, I expect any of the men around me to slam some kind of tight, opaque wrap onto my head at any moment. I expect any and all of them to yell insults, snarl unreasonable demands, and bellow out harsh questions in my face and in my ears … in my language, their language, or both. I expect at least one of them to punch me, kick me, bite me, slash me, stab me, or even shoot me at some point on this trip. I definitely hold no illusions that I will be receiving better treatment after this journey than during it. Instead, I anticipate that I will undergo an even harsher ordeal – and for a far longer time – at wherever is my destination.
Whatever awful things these men, their colleagues, and their superiors have in store for me, I am finally ready … no, make that all too ready … to endure them all. You see, I have come to the conclusion that I might as well take my punishment now. I might as well experience another instance in an overly long line of fusillades of physical and mental torture that have become a hallmark of my adult life. If these thugs who now are encircling me and the people in the Kremlin who are undoubtedly commanding my new captors have been so determined for so long to make a toy out of me, then I might as well let them play with me sooner rather than later.
I mean, what do I really have to gain by trying to stay away from the Russian government and its minions any longer? Back in my country, I have a daughter from whom I have become so estranged that I wonder now if our bond can ever be repaired. Back in my country, even if Mark Boudreau dodges the death penalty, he will still almost surely spend the rest of his life in a federal maximum-security penitentiary … but that gives me no comfort at all, as now it is so easy for me to imagine that slimeball convincing some friends on the outside to carry out a ploy against me at best or manipulating his way to an escape from even the most secure of prisons and then hunting me down himself at worst. Back in my country, Alzheimer's disease will keep taking memories away from President Heller and, ultimately, take his life too … but, while he still can remember anything recent, I would not put it past him to accuse me of putting Audrey in harm's way.
Oh … Audrey … I thought that it hurt so much to remember Teri in the wake of her murder. Then I thought that I could never get over Renée after she was killed. However … now … not only do I think that I may never forgive those who put an end to Audrey's life, but I also think that I can never forgive myself for however I may have caused her death! At this very moment, I so wish that the bullet that took her away from this world had instead done that to me! At least then, President Heller, even as dementia closes in on his mind, would have remained likely to go to his grave with the satisfaction that his daughter was still alive and well. At least then, these Russians that surround me, let alone their ultimate bosses in Moscow, would have been deprived of the pleasure of taking me prisoner.
It is probably just as well that I find it so painful to think about the recent past, because I now must put that experience behind me. The part of my past that has to be on my mind right now is my two years of being locked up in the People's Republic of China. I now need to remember as much as possible about how I survived the rigors and sorrows of that imprisonment, so that maybe … just maybe … one day, these Russians will give up on me, free me, and give their own reluctant praise for how I could not be broken by them.