11: 2am – 3am (EST)
So we're nearly halfway through the story - what do you guys think so far? And of this chapter! Please continue to rate and review!
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter 1
The following takes place between 2am and 3am, European Standard Time:
–
21:00:01PM
Ronald Reagan National Airport
Following the explosion that had ripped through the police truck, the intense fire and heat from inside had managed to weld the doors shut, contrary to what was first thought – what was perhaps even more surprising was that the doors had stayed in their place instead of being blown off. Belcheck was helping the police officer from the front car try to pull open the doors with a crowbar and with the Captain's intervention, they finally forced it open and one door just fell onto the floor. All three men looked inside, but it turned they needn't have bothered; where there were originally four European plane hijackers and a police officer guard, there was now nothing at all. No flesh remains, no bone remains, even the handcuffs were burnt to a crisp. "Anything?" Agent Yanes asked and Belcheck shook his head. "Nothing. No-one could have survived that, no less intact" the officer replied. Yanes put his hand against his forehead in frustration. "How could this have happened? Captain, you checked the vehicle yourself, didn't you?" he demanded to know. "I did check, you're quite right. Inside and underneath when we got here and there was nothing explosive!" the Police Captain replied.
"Well... ok, what about your officers?" the Secret Service agent started and the Captain looked up at him. "What about them?" he said, a bit confused.. but then he realized. "You.. You don't SERIOUSLY think that one of my men killed themselves, do you?" he asked, anger in his voice. "Sir, we have to cover every possibility.." Yanes attempted to defend his suggestion only to be punched in the face by the angry Captain. "My officers were GOOD MEN! I can't believe you're even suggesting that one of them committed suicide!" he continued, as the officer tried to hold him back. "Maybe there's another explanation!" Belcheck reasoned and the Captain started to calm down. "What might that be then?" Yanes inquired. "Until we search what we can of the truck, I don't know. You're right, we have to cover every possibility" the Serb replied, before climbing into the wreckage of the truck. "Could one of the hijackers have had time to smuggle some explosive onto their body?" the officer that had restrained the Captain asked. "Unlikely!" a voice called and everyone turned to see Chloe walk up. "They were all restrained and being closely monitored. They wouldn't have had a chance to smuggle explosives on themselves" she explained. The three men exchanged a look, wondering just how the truck could have been blown up if all the most likely scenarios had been ruled out.
"FOUND SOMETHING!" Belcheck suddenly yelled and everyone turned to face him as he came into view... holding what looked like a set of dog-tags. "Captain, do these look familiar?" the Serb asked, holding them out. The Captain picked them up and his eyes widened. "I... I... can't... these are the tags of one of my best officers; Paxman Kingsley!" he finally said. At first, it looked like his eyes were watering but then he stopped, confusion on his face. "Sir, didn't Kingsley go off duty for the night just a few hours ago?" the officer asked. "He did! From what I gathered, he knew nothing of Flight 681!" the Captain replied. Suddenly, the younger officer's radio buzzed to life. "Captain Wisdom, report in, over!" a female voice said over the static. The Captain, now identified as Wisdom, grabbed the radio. "This is Wisdom" he said. "Sir, this is Sgt. Monk. Don't ask me how, but I just found Officer Kingsley in a supply closet, tied up and gagged – what's more, his uniform and dog tags were missing!" the Sergeant replied and Wisdom did a double-take. "Sir? Sir" the Sergeant said again as Wisdom looked at everyone else around him in shock. "I'll radio you back!" he said abruptly. "Now it makes sense! I think whoever tied up Kingsley snuck aboard the truck..." the younger officer said. "...and killed himself" Yanes finished.
Chloe looked deep in thought and Belcheck was about to ask when Agent Polston came up. "Ms O'Brian, Belcheck, we should probably get to the White House. The President is expecting you and it's a bit of a drive" he said as he heard the sound of sirens and noticed several airport fire and ambulance trucks coming towards them. Chloe nodded and the four headed back towards the car underneath the plane. Inside, Chloe was thankful for the interruption as she was worried she'd have to explain what she was thinking – her idea wasn't bad, but it needed evidence. Basically, she had a sneak suspicion that Hermann wasn't working alone. Because of what Heller and Jack had said about there being a planned attack on the country, she felt the hijackers were part of the plan. And that someone killed Hermann to shut him up, to stop him potentially revealing the plan. As she got into the car, next to Belcheck, she wished that Jack would hurry up in making it to DC – if there was someone who would believe her, it was him.
–
North Atlantic Ocean
Jack was partly worried – he'd been looking all over the crew compartments for anyone on ship, but he'd be forgiven for thinking the carrier had been abandoned as he hadn't found anyone. He'd even tried the onboard communication system to try and connect with the carrier's main bridge but all he'd heard was static – he was just about to head out onto the carrier proper when he noticed that Admiral Woodhouse's office door was slightly ajar. Both concerned and suspicious, Jack walked over to it and slowly opened it for a proper look inside. "Admiral?" he asked, poking his head in. The room was seemingly empty. Jack pushed the door further open and walked inside, unaware he was still being followed. "Admiral?" he asked again, looking around from the middle of the room. Finally, the woman following him made her move – she walked forward, gun raised and would have probably knocked Jack out had he not seen her coming from the corner of his eye.
He moved sideways to face her and pulled her forward, making her drop her hold on the gun – but even though she'd lost her main weapon, the woman was not giving up as she kneed Jack in the groin area. The two wrestled for about another 15 seconds before Jack finally won out and forced the woman onto the wall that was to the left of the open door. "Who the hell are you working for?" he hissed, his thought process going into overdrive and immediately thinking that the woman was working with whoever had been trying to kill him following the helicopter shoot-down. "Jack!" a voice called out in shock and Jack turned to see the Admiral walking in, disbelief in his face. "What the hell are you doing?" he said, instinctively moving for his holster. "I came out of the shower to find that Quinn wasn't there – I went off to find him, but I couldn't find anyone. I found the door to your office ajar and I got worried the carrier had been attacked, only when I came in, I was set upon by her!" Jack explained, not once moving his eyes away from the woman against the wall. Woodhouse's face turned stern. "Ok, Jack.. you can let her go" he said and slowly, the former CTU agent released his grip and stepped backwards. Woodhouse turned towards the woman. "Care to explain yourself?" he asked and the woman kept quiet, the anger on her face still showing.
"You do realize this vessel is on high alert? Your role is to monitor the security and ensure nothing is out of the ordinary and yet I hear you effectively ABANDONED your post just to follow Mr Bauer? What is so important about Mr Bauer to you?" he demanded to know, clearly and sternly. The woman kept silent. "Well? I'm waiting, Ms Chappelle!" Woodhouse continued, not impressed by the lack of answer. "Wait, did you say Chappelle?" Jack asked, surprised. The woman, identified by her surname as Chappelle, nodded. "Your father... wouldn't have happened to have been Ryan, would it?" he continued. Chappelle. "Yes, but you should know that. After all, YOU'RE the one who killed him all those years ago!" she snarled in anger. Woodhouse looked up at Jack in surprise, as Jack put his head in his hands – Ryan Chappelle. The same Ryan Chappelle who he had been ordered to kill by then-President David Palmer during the Cordilla virus incident – not many people were fans of Ryan during his time, but his death had shaken up even Chloe, someone who just did not like him at all. But what was perhaps most surprising was that she had figured out it was him who killed Ryan. "What's your name?" he asked her finally. "Caitlin" she said bitterly. "Caitlin, listen. I may have killed your father all those years ago... but there's some things about it that you don't know" he insisted, knowing full well that certain details surrounding Ryan's death were kept from his family for the sake of national interest. "Ok; what are they?" Caitlin asked, bitterness still in her voice.
"Your father's death; it was a direct order from the President.." Jack said slowly and Caitlin's bitterness slowly started to fade, instead being replaced with shock. "Why would the President order for the death of my father?" the young Chappelle asked. "You know of the Cordilla virus incident?" the former agent asked and Caitlin nodded. "Not much, just that some mad British man used the virus as some kind of revenge against the government" she explained. "Well, you see... Saunders, the man behind the incident, was trying to mask his daughter's indirect involvement in the incident and at the same, your father was tracking some bank accounts Saunders had made – that's why he wanted your father dead. To protect his daughter" Jack replied. Caitlin couldn't believe what she was hearing. "My father was killed.. over money?" she asked. "I'm afraid so – look, I didn't want to kill him. I didn't like him but I didn't want to kill him, no least because a terrorist wanted it" Jack insisted.
Caitlin's eyes were starting to water so Woodhouse decided to wade in. "Jack, maybe we should give Chappelle a moment.." he suggested, only for Caitlin to interrupt. "No, no, it's ok. Just give me a minute" she insisted and Jack realized she was indicating something else. "Admiral, a minute?" he asked, indicating he wanted Woodhouse out of the room for a few minutes. The Admiral, realizing what he meant, rose an eyebrow but nodded and headed out of the office. The moment he was out of earshot, Caitlin looked up in regret. "I'm sorry.. all these years, I'd been under the belief my father had been killed in an accident. I guess when I found out he'd been murdered, I never stopped and thought about whether your hand had been forced" she said, at first choking the words out as she fought against the tears. Jack took her close. "Don't worry about it – you didn't know the whole truth, you had a right to be angry" he insisted, sympathetic towards the young Chappelle. "But I would have killed you if you hadn't stopped you! And whilst I don't know much, I do know that you're only onboard the carrier as a means of getting back to America" Caitlin protested, slowly realizing that she would have been in serious trouble for killing a largely innocent man. Jack shook his head vigorously.
"Listen, don't blame yourself. Nothing good comes from blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault" he responded, his tone of voice making it clear that Chappelle should not be beating herself up. Finally, it seemed his words were finally getting through to her as her emotions seemed to be dying down. "Jack" a voice suddenly said and he looked up to see Woodhouse in the door entry, clutching a folded piece of paper. His expression was one of worry. "What?" Jack asked. The Admiral simply moved his head to indicate "walk with me" and Jack looked back at Caitlin who nodded and smiled as to say "Go. I'll be fine". "Thanks" he said quietly and headed out of the room. "You ok, Chappelle?" Woodhouse asked and Caitlin nodded. "Give yourself five minutes to compose yourself, then get back to work" he continued, his sympathetic tone of voice contradicting his stern face, before leaving.
"What's up?" Jack asked as Woodhouse joined him. "Communication from the White House. Flight 681 has landed in Washington. Everyone got off unharmed, including Ms O'Brian" the Admiral explained, still clutching the sheet of paper. Jack sighed in relief. "That's brilliant news" he said. But as Woodhouse kept silent, Jack stopped. "There's more, isn't there?" he asked and the Admiral said nothing. "Has something happened to Chloe?". "Not Ms O'Brian, no. But shortly after Flight 681 landed, the four surviving hijackers were taken into custody. But according to recent intelligence, all four of those men have been killed. The police truck carrying them exploded" Woodhouse replied as Jack gave him a look of confusion. "I don't understand.." he said. "Neither does anyone in Washington – the most likely explanation is suicide by one of the hijackers, but even then, no-one's too sure" the Admiral replied. Jack looked worried – if it wasn't suicide, then what could it be?
–
02:13:31AM
"How far are we from the East Coast?" he asked. "About an hour and 15 minutes; if you took off by helicopter within the next 25 minutes, you'd been in DC by about 10pm, Washington Eastern Time" Woodhouse explained. That was all Jack needed as he nodded and then walked towards the stairs towards the carrier runway rather quickly. "Jack?" the Admiral asked, only to get no response as the former agent opened the door and came out onto the carrier's runway – he quickly spotted not just the search-and-rescue helicopter that had rescued him following his fighter jet crashing into the sea, but also its pilot, Steven Wallace. "STEVEN!" he yelled and he ran across the almost empty runway as the helicopter pilot turned around. "Are you doing anything right now?" he continued. "Yeah, prepping the helicopter. I'm flying out to meet the CVN Dwight D. Eisenhower at Norfolk before 02:40 hours!" he explained, not looking back. "Any of a detour to the White House?" Jack asked and that was enough for Wallace to turn around, eyes wide. He'd thought Jack would stay on the Truman until they reached landfall. "I need to get to DC as soon as possible!" the agent explained further. Wallace looked behind and noticed Admiral Woodhouse, who gave a short nod.
"Ok, I can do that! But I intend to leave as soon as possible – I don't want to be delayed" he agreed, his tone of voice indicating he had no intention of falling behind schedule. Jack nodded, grateful. What none of them knew, however, was that several thousand miles above them was a drone – it wasn't an attack drone but more of a scout drone, armed with heat scanning equipment. It's onboard computer began to scan the carrier for heat signatures.
02:14:20AM
–
02:19:31AM
North Atlantic Ocean
Thousands of miles up the same ocean, onboard the Yuri Dolgorukiy, in front of another console was a seated Muratov, who smiled as Krylenko came into view. "Ok, what have you found that's so important?" she asked, a bit annoyed at being called away from her station. "Oh, only this.." the Russian said with a smug smile and he started rapidly typing on her console, which bought up a live video feed from above of the CVN Truman. "I temporarily hijacked control of a heat-seeking drone and noticed something out of the ordinary on this carrier – there are more heat signatures than usual on the carrier.." Muratov explained, the live feed showing quite a lot of red. Krylenko looked at him with bewilderment. "You called me away just for this?" she said angrily. "No – if anything, it made me suspicious. I delved further and take a look at this" the Russian said, typing rapidly once again and a security feed came up. "I stole this from the footage onboard the CVN Truman, the ship you just saw. And..." he continued, pressing down on a large button which started up the security feed. Krylenko's mouth opened as she saw Jack Bauer walking down some stairs.. which meant only one thing. He was alive. He had managed to trick both her and General Benediktov into thinking he'd been killed following the jet attack above the ocean.
"Quite important, wouldn't you say?" the Russian said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice in response to Krylenko thinking what he had found was not important. "I'll get the General!" she said quickly, running back towards the stairs in search of the senior Russian.
–
American Prison
In an area of the prison pretty much unguarded and abandoned, a vent door was kicked open and Henderson crawled out of the vents. As he surveyed the area, he realized he was not too far from the main entrance – but as he peered out of the window, he realized as he expected, the front of the building was swarming with prison guards, prisoners and the fire department among others. He needed a distraction to get himself downstairs and out of the building undetected. He needed something flammable – and then he spied a maintenance cupboard. Pulling the door open, he scanned the interior and smiled as he found a very large can of patrol. Grabbing it and then spying a box of matches, he moved towards the window, making sure he wasn't seen, just in case. Opening up the petrol can, he then pulled a match from the box and lit it before dropping it into the can and running. He had just about made it around the corner when it exploded.
Outside, the explosion ripped through that portion of the building and set glass flying onto the unsuspecting people below, as a slight fireball flew through the air. Henderson charged down the stairs and found himself just in front of double doors leading to outside – now to find a way out of the building without being spotted clearly as a prisoner. Just then, he heard a sound of running footsteps and he moved to the side of the double doors and out of view as the doors flew open, armed soldiers charging in to investigate the fire. As the last one charged up the stairs, Henderson realized he had little time before they realized the explosion was not the fire spreading. He fell to his knees and started crawling underneath the window, to the right-hand side of the building – thankfully, because of the fire alarm, all doors had been automatically opened and as soon as he was out of immediate view from outside, he ran around the corner and past signs leading towards a "parking garage".
Outside, Henderson's guard was speaking with the warden. "You're absolutely sure of this, O'Neill?" the warden said. "Yes, sir! I tried to get Henderson as soon as I heard the explosion but then I realized he was in the same room as the fire!" the guard, now known as O'Neill, insisted. The warden seemed to accept it. "Ok, if you're sure. We'll be able to find out for definite once the fire department get things under control" the warden replied and O'Neill nodded, though of course he was worried inside as he knew full well Henderson was alive. "Warden Seniors, come in, sir!" a voice suddenly crackled over and the Warden grabbed his radio. "This is Seniors!" he replied. "Sir, that fireball we witnessed – it wasn't part of the explosion in the central area! Someone set this up as some sort of diversion" the voice replied and O'Neill's blood ran cold. "You're sure?" Seniors demanded. "Yes, sir! Be wary!" was all the voice could reply before being abruptly cut off. Seniors looked back towards O'Neill when he heard what sounded like something crashing through walls. "What the.." he said before the crashing sounds became louder and everyone turned to see a prison truck charging out of the building at high speed... and straight towards them! It did swerve at the last minute and it did a 180 degree turn before the back of the truck slammed into the mass of police cars behind it. After a few seconds, the back doors were slammed open and Henderson emerged. "OI, O'NEILL!" he yelled and Seniors again looked at O'Neill.
"Much appreciated for all your work! Sorry it has to end this way.." he added, revealing he had a rocket launcher in his hands. Senior's eyes rose in horror as Henderson fired a rocket straight into a police car parked behind O'Neill – within an instance, the car exploded and O'Neill was caught in the blast, Seniors being forced to the ground by the shock-waves. In the meantime, Henderson had returned to the front of the truck and slammed on the accelerator and then the brakes, completing another 180 degree turn. All that stood between him escaping were several now-alert prison guards and police officers as he again forced down on the accelerator – several guards and officers started firing their guns in an attempt to stop him. Swerving through the parked cars, Henderson did initially encounter a problem when he slammed into the side of a police cruiser, but instead of stopping, the truck just pushed it a fair distance before turning... straight into the path of an ambulance. The ambulance driver instinctively swerved, but Henderson just managed to clip the side of it, the impact of which sent the ambulance flying onto its side. Now in front of the truck was the prison entrance checkpoint and the shocked guard only just made it outside before the truck slammed through it, destroying it in an instance.
The truck slammed to a halt just in front of a small trench on the side of the road and Henderson grabbed the rocket launcher, fitting another one inside – with another simple click of the launcher, the rocket flew towards what remained of the police cars. Even before the rocket had detonated, Henderson climbed back into the driver's seat and started the truck back up, turning it to the left. He smiled to himself – he'd done it. He had finally made the prison break he had spent months planning. "Next stop, DC.." he said to himself but as he stepped on the gas, he realized that the police were going to track him down. He needed to ditch the truck – as soon as he saw another vehicle, that is.
–
21:26:58PM
White House
"So let me get this straight.." Baylis said as Heller put down the phone. "The prison truck carrying Hermann blows up before it's even left the airport and yet no-one has any idea on what happened?" he continued. "It's still early, Brian – nothing was ever figured out after 30 minutes!" McKaye reasoned. "That doesn't matter, we should be getting answers by now!" the adviser retorted. "Well, we do have some information, Brian, but we're still waiting on something that supports it" Heller pointed out. "Ok then, what information?" Baylis asked. He didn't mean to be coming off as pushy, he just wanted answers – after all, he was the National Security Advisor and he needed as much relevant information as possible, as he was seriously contemplating moving Heller to a more secure location.
"Well, according to Agent Polston shortly after the explosion, a set of dog tags were found in the remains of the truck belonging to a police officer – and then it was discovered that same police officer had been found tied up and gagged at his police station!" McKaye explained. Baylis's eyebrows rose in surprise. "At the minute, I think that whoever destroyed that truck and killed Hermann wanted to silence him in some way!" Heller added. "But who would want to kill Hermann?" Baylis asked. "Whoever it is that's working with him!" a voice suggested and the three men turned to see Chloe O'Brian in the doorway, with Agent Yanes and Belcheck, who was a tad surprised at what the former analyst had suggested. Had it not been for the situation at hand, Heller would have smiled at seeing the two but instead, he rose. "Ms O'Brian, you made it!" he said, moving from behind his desk as Chloe and Belcheck walked in. "That'll be all, Yanes. Thank you for bringing them here!" Heller thanked Yanes, who nodded. "Sir" he said before leaving, closing the doors behind him. "How you holding up?" the President continued, speaking directly to Chloe and referring to the sudden explosion that killed the hijackers. "Alright.." she said simply. Heller then turned to Belcheck and held his hand out to shake. "I appreciate you coming – I'll explain why in just a minute" he added as Belcheck finally accepted the offer and shook the open hand.
"McKaye, Baylis, this is Chloe O'Brian who used to work with my daughter many years ago.." Heller introduced and Chloe gave a slight smile. "..and this is Belcheck, who assisted Jack in stopping the attacks on London" he continued as the Serb gave a slight nod to the two Americans. "This is Brian Baylis, my National Security Advisor and Andrew McKaye from MI-5" he then introduced the two men that had worked with him closely following his return to DC. The moment he was finished, Baylis looked at Chloe. "What do you mean when you said that Hermann was killed by whoever he was working with?" he asked curiously. Realizing all eyes were on here, Chloe gave in and explained. "When Hermann was in control of the plane... part of me was convinced that he was working with someone. I mean, why hijack a plane only to issue such poor demands? That doesn't sound like the work of competent hijackers and I should know – I worked with Hermann!" she explained. The looks on both McKaye and Baylis's faces couldn't have been more contrasting: McKaye looked like Chloe had a point whilst Baylis was not as convinced.
"Ok, but what makes you think someone was working with him?" he asked. "I don't know. But following the explosion, I'm convinced he was. Why would someone take the identity of a police officer just to kill a German national not many people have heard of?" Chloe insisted. "Plus the presence of those dog tags at the scene – someone was clearly trying to throw us off the scent" Belcheck waded in, defending Chloe's suggestion. Several seconds passed before Baylis sighed. "Ok, maybe it doesn't make sense, maybe what you're suggesting is the case – but until we get some ID on who the killer is, I'm not sure what to believe" he conceded. "Well, we should find out pretty soon. The police station called before you got here, they're trying to identify the killer now" McKaye replied to the advisor, who nodded in response. "Any word on Jack?" Chloe asked. "Not yet, but from what I've gathered, he's still on the carrier and not too far off reaching landfall – he'll be here soon, I'm sure" Heller assured. Chloe was relieved inside as whilst no-one had come out directly against her theory, if there was anyone who'd not only believe her but would also go to hell and back to find evidence, it was Jack.
21:30:12PM
–
02:34:26AM
North Atlantic Ocean
"Fellow members of Marina Cell.." Benediktov spoke into the submarine-wide radio, standing next to Krylenko and Muratov. "The next phase of our operation against America is about to begin! We have recently discovered that contrary to our initial belief, Jack Bauer is alive and well. He is currently on a United States carrier charging towards the East Coast of America – as it is, if he makes landfall, our carefully laid out plans are at risk. This is our last chance to kill him. Let's make it count!" he declared before shutting off the radio. "Is it ready?" he asked Muratov. "Yes, sir!" the Russian replied, handing his his fellow national one of the remote controls. "I've already plotted in its course – it will take off from the submarine and fall back into the water. This way, it will avoid detection" he added confidently. The General nodded, opening up the control to reveal a red button in the centre. "Launching in three... two... one.." he said before pressing down on the button. One of the submarine missile hatches opened up and within seconds, the missile flew out of the water and some distance into the sky before turning horizontally and then back down into the water, like as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Onboard the Truman, meanwhile, Wallace was starting up the helicopter and the rotor blades began spinning, gradually picking up speed. The door to inside the carrier opened up and Jack emerged, quickly walking towards the helicopter. Wallace saw him and nodded. "Jack!" a voice called and he turned around to see Woodhouse. "Safe journey back – let me know if I can be of further help" he said, holding his hand out to shake. "Thank you, Admiral" Jack replied, shaking his hand. "And I will do" he added before releasing his hand from the shake and walking onto the helicopter. Of course, no-one knew of the missile flying towards the carrier from under the water.
By now, the helicopter was at take-off speed and Jack climbed into it, ready to close the cargo door. Then everything went to hell.
The missile slammed into the carrier, about halfway between the left end of the vessel and the halfway point, exploding on impact – rather unfortunately, it had struck the engine room and the impact turned the area into a blazing inferno. Even worse, part of a fireball slammed into one of the fuel tanks, which ruptured under the intense heat and exploded. Seaman and naval officers who were quite to the engine room were all either caught in the blast or blown off their feet by the shock-waves. One by one, each and every door running along the halls were blown off by explosions, whilst the exterior was blasted open underneath the water
On-deck, another explosion ripped through the main control room and set anyone out in the open air or open water flying – Woodhouse was forced to the runway ground by the shock-waves and Jack was suddenly slammed into the helicopter interior, whilst the glass windscreens all around Wallace shattered into pieces. As a result, he accidentally shifted the helicopter controls to the right, which was a bit of a bad thing as the search-and-rescue aircraft was only a few feet off the ground and because of the sudden control loss, the immediate right of the helicopter slammed back down onto the runway and would have slid into the ocean had it not been for the carrier suffering another explosion, which then led to the whole vessel sinking into the water on the left and because only the left of the vessel was damaged, the right-hand side suddenly swung upwards and the helicopter somehow regained balance as it flew back into the air.
As Jack came to his senses, he realized what was happening as Wallace battled with the helicopter controls. On the ground, Woodhouse dared not get up as he saw the destruction happening all around him – but he could just about make out the helicopter trying to fly upwards above him. But then he saw something that turned his blood cold – a fireball had struck one of the fighter jets and it was in the midst of exploding. But somehow, it then managed to launch a missile towards another fighter jet, which then also exploded. Only this time, it sent a fireball flying upwards and right in the direction of the helicopter! "JACK!" the Admiral yelled and Wallace looked up to see the fireball coming straight at him. "SH*T! JACK, HOLD ON!" he yelled and fought desperately to turn the helicopter away but it was too late. The fireball slammed into his side of the helicopter, very nearly sending Jack flying out of the open cargo door. But the damage was done – because of the broken glass, parts of the fireball made contact with the pilot section of the search-and-rescue aircraft and the helicopter began to fall back down onto the runway. As the remnants cleared, Jack realized that Wallace was badly burnt from what had happened and he grabbed a hold of the pilot, pulling him from the seat and grabbed the main controls – this single action just about saved both their lives as had he been a few seconds too late, they would have crashed into one of the burning fighter jets.
Instead, he pulled the controls upwards and the damaged helicopter overflew the sinking carrier. Woodhouse watched, relieved Jack was ok. But then the ground beneath him started shaking and before he could do anything, he was enveloped in another explosion – by now, the top of the vessel was a fireball and the smoke was visible even from miles away. Despite his extensive burns, Wallace could just about make out the smoke from where he was lying. "You... left them.." he said, shock evident. Jack shook his head. "I didn't have a choice – had we stayed even a few seconds longer, we would have been caught in the explosion" he said grimly. He had to get to the President and call for help, but then he realized that the radio was damaged. He'd be lucky to even get out one message to anyone.
–
21:39:23PM
North Atlantic Ocean
"Any signs?" Benediktov asked in exasperation as Krylenko and Aralica scanned the incoming details on their consoles, desperate to find out if they had finally got Bauer. "Nothing yet, General" the Croatian said first. "WELL, WHAT is the holdup?!" the Russian cried, his voice full of frustration. "The first explosion knocked out most of the CCTV – we're trying to reconnect now, see if anything survived" Krylenko explained. "Well, GET A MOVE ON!" Benediktov demanded, the frustration emitting from his body. Suddenly, he could just about hear the phone he'd been using to talk with Dimitrijevic in his office – he wasn't too far from there. "I'll be right back" he said quietly, retreating into the office. Closing the door tight, he picked up the phone. "Ms Dimitrijevic.." he said quietly.
"HOW GOES THINGS, GENERAL?" the recognizable-Serb voice asked, though of course, Benediktov had no idea that he was actually speaking to the unidentified President, who was speaking through the microphone the now-dead Marek had found earlier. The Russian bit his lip. "Bauer's alive! You were right" he finally said. "I SEE.. I'm guessing that explains the missile launched from the very north of the North Atlantic Ocean?" the female President asked. She could hear Benediktov almost gasp. "How do you...?" he spluttered. "Relax, Andre, I'm not spying on you. I WAS ONLY ASKING AS I'M CURRENTLY SPYING ON SATELLITES AND THEY PICKED UP A MISSILE BEING LAUNCHED FROM THE NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN – that wouldn't have happened to be you, would it?" she replied. Benediktov was silent for a few seconds. "It was – but as I have already mentioned, I have good reason.." he said. "I APPRECIATE THAT, ANDRE. HOWEVER, YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO THAT IF we are going to stand any chance of destroying the Presidency, we need a full armament! YOU CAN'T JUST SHOOT AT ANYTHING THAT MOVES – YOU HAVE LIMITED MIRVed MISSILES AS IT IS!" the unknown President said. "I know. But I can assure you, Melina, that this will stop – we used one missile to shoot down the Chief of Staff and another to attack the Truman! We're hoping that the attack on the Truman was enough to kill him!" the General replied.
There was silence on the woman's end. "YOU KNOW I HAVE COMPLETE FAITH IN YOU, ANDRE – and I have complete faith you've taken care of Bauer. But for our mission to succeed, YOU HAVE TO STOP LAUNCHING THE MISSILES. AT LEAST WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE NEAR THE EAST COAST!" she finally said, sternness in her tone of voice. "Yes, Melina. Of course.." Benediktov replied. The woman sighed and placed her hand on her forehead. "I'll see you in a few hours, Andre. Take care.." she promptly said before hanging up. After a few seconds, she almost smirked. "Oh, Andre... it's still not clicking into place for you. You just don't know who you're dealing with" she said to herself. Suddenly, as if on cue, her phone rang. She picked up the receiver. "Yes?" she asked. "President Walkman, this is Kitzman. Mr Hampson requires your assistance in the research lab. It's about Project Connaughton" the man explained. "I'll be right down" she said before hanging up. Now, what Kitzman didn't know was that Project Connaughton was actually Experiment #Sunderland09 – to deter the attention of the majority of scientists away from what it really was, #Sunderland09 was given a second codename of Project Connaughton and was widely assumed to be a joint-military program.
The moment the woman, or President Walkman as said by Kitzman, put the phone down, she got up and headed towards the door.
–
White House
Agent Polston ran through the corridors as fast as he could, slamming his way through White House representatives blocking his path, before bashing the door to the Oval Office open – everyone looked up in surprise. "Mr President, I'm sorry to interrupt! One of our carriers has been attacked!" he said desperately. Heller's face immediately turned grim. "What happened?" he asked. "I don't know the full details, but according to the guy I just spoke to, there was a sudden explosion on the Truman and the whole vessel is now ablaze.." the agent started to explain but Chloe interrupted. "Did you say the TRUMAN?!" she demanded. A simple nod was all it took and the former analyst's face was one of complete panic. "Jack.." she said quietly. Heller got up from his seat and walked towards the Secret Service agent. "Any other details?" he asked. "There's not much, sir. The person kept cutting in and out throughout the call, but what I do know is that he's coming straight here. And with a casualty" Polston replied. Heller nodded. "Alert nearby vessels, active or stationed. Get people to that carrier NOW!" he ordered. "Yes, sir" the agent replied and turned to leave. He was almost halfway out the door when a loud voice stopped him.
"WAIT!" Polston quickly turned around to see McKaye standing up, everyone looking startled by his loud demand and looking up at him. Seconds passed by until the MI-5 agent finally asked his question. "Do you know WHO you spoke to on the helicopter?" he asked. Polston slowly shook his head. "I only just got the details of the Truman attack itself before the radio on the helicopter's end just cut off – either the radio was damaged or the person flying that helicopter might have been behind the attack!" he explained. Baylis bit his lip whilst exchanging a look of worry with the British agent, Chloe and Belcheck. "Whilst you're alerting the Naval vessels, get in touch with ALL Air Traffic Control points in the city – tell them to widen their search radius and to be on the lookout for a search-and-rescue helicopter!" Heller ordered. "Of course, Mr President!" Polston agreed before finally leaving the Oval Office. "Jim..." a voice said and Heller turned to look at his National Security Adviser. "I would seriously recommend we move you to the safe-room or, failing that, the bunker. If a helicopter with a potentially dangerous suspect is coming here, your safety is going to be compromised!" Baylis insisted. McKaye's face seemed to suggest that he had a point. "I appreciate your concern, Brian. But I don't think that will be necessary" Heller insisted. Belcheck, who had been surprisingly quiet, was next to speak up. "I'm with Baylis on this! The person radioing in might have said he was coming in on a search-and-rescue helicopter but that doesn't mean he's being truthful. He could be flying in on a heavily armed helicopter for all we know!" the Serb said, siding with the NSA.
"And for all we know, he might not be! As it is, we just don't know – the person flying in might well be involved with the Truman attack but until we get more information, I am not going anyway!" Heller insisted, his tone of voice now stern. "I'm with the President on this; we need more information before we do anything! No use planning ahead if the danger turns out to be non-existent" Chloe explained, siding with the President. Finally, Baylis caved. "Ok, if that's how you feel, sir.. but if I hear ANYTHING out of the ordinary, I will personally drag you to the safe-room" he said, seriousness in his voice. Heller nodded, understanding the delicacy of the situation. Suddenly, the phone on the President's desk started to ring rapidly and being the closest one to it, McKaye scrambled to his feet. "President's office" he said. "Hello, is the President available? This is Commander Barlow from the Metropolitan Police Department, First District. Calling about identifying the supposed killer at the airport?" the man replied. "Of course! One second!" McKaye replied before motioning Heller over and mouthing "Police commander". Nodding, the President took the phone. "This is Heller" he said. "Mr President, hello! Commander Barlow! We've reviewed the CCTV footage of what happened with Officer Kingsley and we found a match on who took his place at the airport!" the commander explained. "Ok, who was it?" Heller asked in reply. He expected the police commander to reply within seconds so was a little taken aback when there was no immediate reply. "Commander?" he asked.
"I think you should look at the details for yourself, sir – do you have a computer or a laptop near you?" Barlow said. Surprised at such a request, Heller scanned the surrounding area and instantly spied McKaye's iPad, which was sitting on the table right in front of him. He motioned the iPad to McKaye, who quickly realized and picked it up, bringing it back with him. "Ok, I've got a computer. What do you need?" he continued, remembering to press down on the speaker button. "On the program for shared information, type in 0-7-5-3-7-9-2-4A" Barlow instructed as McKaye slowly typed in the numbers. The iPad screen then moved swiftly towards a police site. "It requires a pass-code. 6 letters!" Heller said. "The letters are A-P-R-G-T-V!" the commander revealed and McKaye typed in the letters – within an instance, the screen of the tablet device started to download a series of data pulls, which culminated in the same details that Barlow was looking at being transferred to the iPad screen. "Ok, commander, we got it! Give us a few minutes to look it over, I'll ring you back!" Heller said before hanging up. Baylis, Chloe and Belcheck all got up and walked over to McKaye as he scanned the information. "What have you got?" Baylis asked. "Well, it's not someone I've heard of, that's for sure..." the MI-5 agent started to explain, only to be interrupted almost instantly by Belcheck.
"No... it couldn't have been.." he said, his voice almost going down to a whisper. "You know him?" Baylis said, taken aback. "KNEW him, yes. That's Stefan Jokanovic – he was a former friend of mine before I joined the mob. But then he went rogue. REALLY rogue. Tried to kill the Serbian Minister of Foreign Affairs but it backfired. He went on the run, no-one heard from him again.." the Serb explained. "Well, according to this, he settled down in America about three years ago. Clearly managed to keep himself out of trouble as even though the FBI had him on their international watch-list, no-one suspected he was even in the country" McKaye said, surprised that Belcheck had knowledge of him. "..until now" Baylis added. Chloe slowly started to walk off in thought. "Doesn't make sense.." she said to herself. "Chloe?" Belcheck asked, having been the only one to hear her speak. "This doesn't make sense! Jokanovic was European – so why would he kill himself just to kill other Europeans?!" she finally said. "What are you saying?" McKaye asked. "Don't you get it?! This is what I've been trying to say – there's someone else at work out there and they must have wanted Hermann silenced!" she insisted, almost essentially repeating what she'd said earlier but with this new information having come to light, she felt it needed to be repeated.
Heller looked deep in thought whilst McKaye, Baylis and Belcheck all exchanged a look – it seemed Chloe's theory was starting to make sense. But now an even bigger question emerged; just who wanted to silence Hermann? And why? And if anything, what might they be planning?
–
21:46:01PM
American Road
Climbing into the front seat of a Chevy pickup truck was Henderson, who quickly attached the blue-tooth headset on the vacant seat to his ear before starting up the truck and driving up – behind him was a small trail of destruction; the prison truck he'd used to escape from the prison was now lying on its side on the middle of the road and inside the back of the truck was the body of a dead young woman, her throat slit and blood stains clear on her leggings. She had clearly been the driver of the pickup truck.
Activating the headset, Henderson typed in a number on the phone.
–
North Atlantic Ocean
Following his chat with "Dimitrijevic", Benediktov had waited patiently in the small submarine office, waiting for any news on whether they had gotten Bauer. Suddenly, the phone rang and he immediately picked it up. "Hello?" he asked, knowing full well the number he'd given out for him to be personally contacted with was only given to two people. "General! It's good to hear your voice!" Henderson said, relieved the number still worked. Benediktov, on the other hand, was taken aback. "I'm sorry, who is this?" he asked in surprise. "Oh come now, Andre! Don't tell me you've already forgotten! Ok, I'll give you a little hint – this is the first time you've heard my voice properly!" the American explained. The Russian general's eyes rose. "Henderson? Is that you?" he said quietly. "It is! I made it out of the prison – I'm currently en-route to DC as we speak" Henderson explained. Benediktov smiled in relief. "That's brilliant news – did everything go as planned?" he asked. "Well, not quite as according to plan as I'd hoped for; but the main thing is, I'm out! I'll be in DC in just a few hours" came the American's reply.
Benediktov nodded. "Ok, that's good. Think you can avoid trouble whilst I make my way to the East Coast?" he asked. "Oohhh... I think I can do that" Henderson said with just a little hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Anyhow, I've got to go.. I only phoned in to let you know I was out – now I have to contact someone else" the American added in before the Russian could say anything else. "That's fine – I appreciate you letting me know, Henderson. Thank you.." Benediktov replied. "No worries. I'll see you in a few hours" the American said before hanging up. Almost immediately, he typed in another number and pressed down on the green option. The dial tone rang about three times before being answered. "Yes?" a gruff male voice said. "This is Henderson. Phase one is complete. This is the go-ahead for Phase two!" Henderson said sternly. "Understood. I take it Benediktov is none the wiser?" the gruff voice asked. "Confirmed. Benediktov has no idea of what's going on" the American said. "Very well. Will reestablish contact as soon as target has been captured!" the voice added before hanging up.
21:47:45PM
–
21:51:21PM
Trenton, New Jersey
For a late night in the bustling city of Trenton in New Jersey, the main building for the Trenton Police Department was somewhat quiet. So quiet in fact that the man on the front desk didn't notice the young woman walking towards him. "Excuse me?" she asked and the main looked up in surprise, almost dropping his magazine. "Oh, sorry, miss! How can I help you?" he asked. "I reported my car stolen about two hours ago – I got a phone call.. from about ten minutes ago saying it had been found and bought here?" the woman asked. The officer quickly looked over the notes on his clipboard and looked back up. "Registration number MD4P QVT?" he asked. "Yes, that's it!" she replied. "Ok.. I'll just need a few more details from you to confirm and then I'll hand you over to my partner!" the officer said and the woman nodded in agreement. "Your name is Kimberly Wesley?" he asked and the woman, Kim, nodded. "If I can see some ID?" he asked further and Kim pulled her driver's license out of her pocket. The officer scanned it. "Yep, that's all in order with what I've got. Give me a second and I'll call my partner in!" he said before picking up his radio. "Machin? I've got the owner of the stolen Ford Fusion out here" he said. "Ok, I'll be there in a second" a female voice replied. A few seconds passed by before the door electronically opened and a young female officer emerged, smiling. "Kim, right?" she asked and Kim nodded. "I'm Officer Machin – we've got the car waiting and it's pretty much undamaged" Machin introduced herself and shook Kim's hand. "..we'll just need a few extra details from you before you can go" she added and Kim nodded again.
The two headed off into the room that Machin had come from – but the minute the door closed, the first officer's jolly demeanor changed and his expression become stern. He flicked a switch underneath his desk, which in turn activated some sort of beacon inside a black van parked just across the street. "She's inside – are we ready to go?" a tall man asked, looking towards five other men, all of whom all nodded. "Very well; activate the explosives.." he ordered. "But sir, our source inside is not clear" one of the men argued. The tall man simply eyed him. "You heard my orders, Turner" he said before opening up the side door to the van. Inside the station, the officer sat back and picked up his magazine from the floor. He was just about to turn the page when he heard what sounded like a droning sound.
"I'll just be one second" Machin said as she retreated into a side room. At that exact moment, Kim's phone started to ring. She quickly checked the Caller ID and quickly realized it was her husband, Stephen. "Hey.." she said, smiling weakly. "Everything ok? Did the police find the car?" Stephen asked, watching over a crib. "Yeah, surprisingly really quickly. But I'll have to stay overnight with Andrea and drive back home first thing tomorrow" Kim replied. "Ah, that's expected. But at least the car's found" the young doctor replied. "Yeah, that's true. How are the kids?" she replied. "I'm currently sitting next to my little monkey – he dropped off sound asleep hours ago and hasn't woken up once, even if Teri's making as much noise as possible!" Stephen said, half-laughing at the end. Kim gave a little smirk. "That little madam.. how's she doing?" she asked. "Oh, she's being stubborn as always – refusing to go to sleep. She must have inherited that from your dad!" he said. Kim rolled her eyes, but she was right – Teri was just like her grandfather in being stubborn and refusing to admit defeat. She was about to talk again when she spotted Machin coming out of the side-room. "I've got to go. I'll ring back in a few minutes" she quickly said before hanging up.
The exact moment that happened, a huge explosion ripped through the wall behind her and sent her flying into her front, whilst Machin was sent flying backwards into a table. Outside, the group of men witnessed the explosion rip through the front of the building. "GO!" the tall man ordered and the six-strong men charged towards the burning building, whilst the van-driver slammed down on the accelerator. Inside, Kim slowly got to her feet and witnessed the chaos all around her, before noticing Machin in front of the table. She quickly ran over to her and pulled her to her feet. "Where are the keys to my car?" she asked as the officer's eyes widened and she saw what was happening. "The keys?" Kim continued desperately and now more alert, Machin quickly handed over the keys. "Follow me!" she said and the two ran through the back-room, which let to an indoor-parking lot. Kim scanned the area for her car and spotted it, dragging Machin along with her. "We can't just leave them!" the officer protested, indicating anyone who might still be in the building. "We can't risk it; we could well be the only people left alive.." Kim explained, before there was a sudden gunshot and Machin fell to the ground dead, a bullet having entered her skull. Kim looked up in horror and saw a gun-man. "THERE SHE IS! SHE'S HERE!" he yelled towards his colleagues and Kim instantly realized he meant her. Getting herself into the car as quickly as possible, she forced the key sidewards and turned the engine on. With the gun-man getting closer, she slammed down on the petals and the car flew forwards. She quickly turned it towards the barrier exit, as the gun-man tried firing shots at her to get her to stop, to no avail.
The car slammed through the barrier and out onto the road, where the traffic was rather hectic, owing to the fact the front of the station was on fire. Even though she knew she was driving straight into head-on traffic, Kim knew she didn't exactly have the luxury of time on her hands, now that she knew it was more than likely those who had attacked the station were after her. She swerved through the masses of traffic, unaware of the black van coming towards her on the left. A police officer on a motorbike witnessed going up against the one-way traffic and started to follow her, sirens blazing. Kim could see this in her rear-view mirror and bit her lip. This was not what she needed. However, the van then came blazing out of a cross-road from the left... and it slammed into the police officer on his motorbike, sending him flying, before swerving and chasing after Kim. She swerved to the left, going down a not-as-busy road as fast as she could. The van driver, however, was getting closer and closer. Finally, Kim took her eyes off the road for a second more than she needed to, which meant she didn't see the truck with a flatbed of logs emerging onto the road.
As a result, the truck clipped the back of the car which made Kim lose control and it flipped onto its back, sliding along the road for quite a distance. Shocked at what had happened, the the truck driver climbed out of his cab and pulled his phone out.. but before he could even start dialing his number, she was shot multiple times by the van driver who pulled up just in front of the truck and got out of the driver's seat. As he walked towards the car, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and sent a text out. It read: "Bauer's daughter is secured. En-route to DC with her". Inside the car, Kim was just about conscious and within her attempts to keep awake, she saw a strange man wearing all black walking towards her.
–
DC Airspace
The search-and-rescue helicopter was now overflying DC, moving in from the east as Jack searched the skyline for the White House. He could clearly hear the slight groans of Steven next to him, as he tried to cope with his burns. "It's ok, Steven.. we're nearly there" he said as the helicopter flew through the air, surprisingly still intact from the fireball. In the Air Traffic Control tower at the Ronald Reagan National Airport, a radar operator watched the main radar carefully, looking for anything that appeared out of the blue. As if on cue, a new icon appeared on the radar and the operator appeared to recognize it. "This is Air Traffic Control calling... SaR781. Do you read me?" he spoke into his headset. There was silence – in fact, there was not even any static. "Air Traffic Controll calling SaR781. Do you read me, over?" the operator tried again. Again, nothing. Not even any dead air or static. The operator turned to a colleague. "Alert the White House – we've found their helicopter and it's not responding to any of our calls!" he ordered.
In the sky, Jack knew full well that his radio wasn't working. There was a chance that those on the ground might think he was a rogue, so he had to be careful. As he flew past the Washington Monument, he gave a little smile – right in front of him was the White House. He was finally back in America after four long years. On the ground, several guards on patrol noticed the helicopter and moved forward, guns raised at who they might be facing. Jack began to push the controls down, deciding to land right in front of the building. McKaye walked through the corridors of the building until he reached the entrance to the building – he could see the helicopter moving closer towards the ground, ready to land. As he got closer, Jack could see the armed guards and he knew that he would have to try and convince them of who he was. He just hoped they weren't that trigger-happy.
–
22:00:00PM
So what are you thinking at that:
1. Do you feel the story involving Jack being followed was underwhelming? I only put it in as I felt it was quite poor to see Ryan Chappelle used throughout the first three seasons and then forgotten about altogether! Please, let me know!
2. What are you thinking about the antagonists? You see the A.F.E seemingly becoming pawns to a bigger plan involving the mysterious President Walkman and then you see Henderson plotting something else!
3. What do you think might happen with regards to the other chapters? Have your say! I'll get Chapter 12 up as soon as I can