24: End of an Era?
Episode 1.14: "Day 1: 7:00pm – 8:00pm"
By
Chris Wright
Based on the television series 24
24: End of an Era – Day 1: 7:00pm - 8:00pmJACK (V/O)
"Right now, terrorists are in possession of an experimental virus. My daughter has been killed, President Palmer's cabinet has been targeted, and forces beyond our comprehension may be involved in both. I'm Federal Agent Jack Bauer, and this is the darkest day of my life…"
"Previously on 24…"
Go to http/24nwo. for the whole story...
FADE OUT.
Day 1: 7:00pm – 8:00pm
JACK BAUER (V/O)
"The following takes place between 7:00pm and 8:00pm…"
FADE TO.
Counter Terrorist Unit – Financial District, Los Angeles – 7:00pm
Chloe sits in her holding room, still working on the Brady data after her earlier find. The phone conversation she had just had with Jack Bauer still played on her mind though. She wondered what the hell Jack was doing going to the farm anyway. All he had said was that Cassel told him about it. Could something be happening there? Chloe thought to herself. She wrestled with the thought, not knowing what to do. She knew what protocol told her to do, but Jack trusted her with his life. She sighed in frustration to herself and pulled up a satellite search. She knew she couldn't tell Tony or George what was going on, but she could at least find out for herself.
She entered the address she had found as a search string and waited a few seconds as the trace worked its magic. She leaned back in her chair for a second, enjoying the moments peace. What a day… she thought. The thoughts brought back visions of Edgar's prone body on the tarmac outside CTU. She never really showed it, but she had always had great admiration for Edgar. After all, he was the only one who could keep up with her most of the time when she was really trying to exert her technical authority. The tracer beeped and the satellite rerouted to show a view from around 50,000 feet of the area Chloe had entered. She zoomed in slowly, making sure she got the right patch of sandy land. On reaching around five hundred feet, she started to notice a large object, almost the same size as the farmhouse it sat beside. She zoomed in quicker now, desperate to know what it was. However, when she realized, she wished she hadn't. The CTU satellite streams were so detailed that Chloe could even make out the SS-1 tail number. There was no doubt in her mind that Jack had uncovered the next terrorist plot, maybe even the final one. She immediately picked up the phone and dialed Jack. It rang only once before the still-on-edge Jack picked up. He answered gruffly, "This is Bauer."
"Jack, its Chloe. I just pulled up satellite for the address you're going to." Chloe piped excitedly. Jack exhales deeply, cursing his choice to involve anyone, even if it was Chloe. He didn't want anyone else knowing about this, or they'd be all over it, and the chance to stop it would pass, and, more importantly in Jack's mind, so would the chance for revenge.
"You shouldn't have done that Chloe," he whispered disappointedly.
"You said you needed my help, I thought you'd ask me for satellite next." Chloe replied, seeming hurt.
"If I wanted satellite then I would have asked for it Chloe!"
"Listen to me Jack, if you think you can go to that address and survive long enough to stop this attack then by all means go right ahead, but you know that you need my help, so I suggest you accept it." Chloe sits breathless after her outburst, and instantly regrets it when Jack replies, full of anger but staying quiet, trying not to completely lose his temper. "Do not talk down to me Chloe." There is silence on both ends of the line as each party waits for the other to say something. Chloe speaks first, apologetically, "I'm sorry Jack. I'm just trying to help. I'm not going to tell Tony, I wouldn't throw your trust back in your face." Jack's face softens at Chloe's words – of all the people that Jack had known, even though most had either died or betrayed him, Chloe was one of the few who stayed beside him through it all. Jack replied with simple words, "Thank you Chloe."
"You're welcome." Chloe sneers back, not particularly intentionally. Jack bites his tongue, trying not to reply in the same condescending tone. He knew this was her way though, and let it go.
"Keep watching the satellite. I'll call you when I'm at the address. Please don't let Tony or George find you working on this Chloe. Please."
"I won't Jack."
With Chloe's reassurance, Jack hangs up. Chloe replaces the phone and looks back at the satellite. It was live in the sense that what she was seeing was what had happened at most a few seconds ago. It refreshed every three seconds, giving the picture a jerky, unreal air to it. She saw two men with the missile, and as far as he could tell, they were the only men there. Nothing was happening on the screen, so Chloe decided to take a quick visit to Edgar, see if he had woken up yet. She locked the screen, typing her password, making sure no wondering eyes could see what she had been working on if they came to check up on her.
Secretary of Homeland Security's Office – Downtown Los Angeles – 7:08pm
The Secretary gets up from his chair slowly, letting himself exhale tiredly as he does. The events of the day had taken their toll and he was feeling it. He walked over to the wall and collected his coat, long and elegant to match his standing. He looks into the full length mirror against the same wall, fixing his clothes and tired appearance before picking up his briefcase and leaving his office. He smiled at his receptionist, sitting bewilderedly behind her desk. "Can I ask where you're going, Mr. Secretary?" she called after him. He had expected questions from Margo, so he simply turned after quickly rolling his eyes. He saw the woman in the light he always saw her – just like a small angry bull. He knew she was married, but he didn't know who could put up with her for any longer than he had to.
"I'm just going over to see the President; congratulate him on today's successes!"
Margo didn't look convinced, so Byrne tried a different approach.
"OK, so maybe I'm not going to congratulate him, but you know I can't tell you what this meeting is about."
Margo seemed to retreat at this, knowing that she was on a need-to-know basis, and she didn't need to know. She hated being kept out of the loop on most things, but she knew her job was just to be Secretary Byrne's secretary, not his advisor. She smiled back at the disheveled man, wondering why he looked so unkempt suddenly. As she looked at him, she noticed that he had one of his larger briefcases clutched in his right hand. Meeting with the President my ass… she thought to herself, knowing better than to speak it aloud. Byrne senses that the conversation has run its course and turns to leave, but Margo still calls after him.
"When can I expect you back Sir?"
"Well today's been a drain on me and Democrats as a whole. Let's close the office and start back Monday."
Margo seems to reel in shock, not able to remember a time where Byrne had decided to abandon the office for such a long period of time.
"Can I ask why you feel we should do that Sir?"
"Are you complaining Margo?"
"No of course not Sir. It's just so unexpected."
"I know Margo. But after today, the Republicans will be dead in the water. We could re-open in a month and still win the next election!"
"Alright Mr. Secretary. I'll leave in thirty minutes."
"See that you do Margo, I work you too hard!"
Byrne leaves the office, closing the door behind him quietly and smiling. He was satisfied that he had handled Margo well.
Back in the office, Margo carefully lifted her deskphone, looking back to the door to make sure Byrne didn't return. The number she dialed answers after at least five rings.
"Hello?" an official sounding voice inquired.
"Hey, it's Margo over at Secretary Byrne's office."
"Hey Margo. Is this a social call?"
Margo manages some forced nervous laughter.
"I'm afraid not…"
"Well, what is it then?"
"I need your help. Byrne just left the office…"
"That's wonderful Margo, but what can I help with?"
Margo paused, gathering her thoughts before replying.
"I need you to find out where he's going."
Counter Terrorist Unit; Los Angeles – Medical – 7:13pm
Edgar lies in the simple medical room, a single machine by his bed, measuring his vital signs. He was clearly breathing normally, and seemed to simply be in a deep sleep and not any kind of coma. Chloe waits outside the room, not knowing what she could begin to say to Edgar. She had always treated him as some kind of second class citizen inside CTU; someone who could never compete with what she herself could do. All the memories and flashbacks of the things she had said came back to her so suddenly, causing her to feel like hiding in shame.
Edgar seemed to stir, bringing Chloe out of her painful recollections. She slowly enters the room, still saying nothing, unsure what to say. Edgar's eyes begin to flutter as he regains consciousness, eventually focusing on Chloe standing awkwardly at the end of his bed. He struggles to smile, the effort being put in melting Chloe's heart. She walks around to the edge of his bed, taking a seat beside him. She goes to start talking, but Edgar reaches for her hand, squeezing it with all the strength he still had. He makes a quiet shushing sound, stopping her in her tracks. She turns and looks into his warm eyes, seeing them smiling, even if he couldn't manage it. She squeezes his hand back, keeping hold of it while Edgar slips off back into sleep.
Small Farmhouse – North Los Angeles – 7:16pm
As the last of the light from a setting sun spreads over the farmhouse, an unmarked car approaches and parks just outside. As soon as it has stopped moving, the back doors open and three men step out. As the car pulled to a stop and the three men walked towards the farmhouse, another two men left from the front doors of the car. The five men looked around themselves nervously, seemingly scanning for any threat to the plan unfolding.
They reached the door and entered, not bothering to knock, causing Phil and Mikhail to draw their guns in fear in the direction of the door. The men seemed un-phased by the show of aggression and continued on into the room, seeming to fill it up with their sheer numbers. Mikhail relaxed a little, obviously recognizing the men. He speaks, trying to sound strong but a certain shakiness remained in his voice. "What are you doing here guys? We've got everything under control."
"Relax Mikhail, we're just here to make sure everything runs smoothly," one of the men replied in a soothing voice, leaving the others still looking around nervously.
"What do you mean? There's nothing to check up on." Mikhail said, with a note of suspicion in his voice. He was unnerved by the sudden appearance of the crack team of commandos that he had understood would only be used if things got messy.
"We're only following orders. The final attack is at risk," the mercenary replies, matter-of-factly.
"Says who?"
"The order comes directly from the top Mikhail, above your jurisdiction."
Mikhail knew that he was nowhere near the top of the food-chain, but he still hated being reminded of the fact. He had enjoyed being in charge of Cassel immensely. Three of the men advance, causing the two still frightened men to retreat a little. However they stopped as they realized the men were walking past them to check on the missile. Mikhail follows their path with his eyes, trying to convey as much of his displeasure as he could in one glance. He turned back to the two remaining men, forcing a smile.
"So would you guys like a beer?"
About two hundred yards away, a figure moved slowly through the undergrowth, making sure he wasn't seen. Jack removed his spyglass slowly, always trying not to draw attention to himself. Through the spec-ops issue glass, he saw the farmhouse clear as day. Through the small windows, he saw men pacing back and forth, but he couldn't make out how many there were. He knew it would be suicide going in without knowing that, and he told himself that that act would not cross his mind until the mission was complete. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Chloe's number, cursing that he needed to involve his innocent colleague again. Chloe answered on the third ring, still walking back from seeing Edgar. She answered in her impatient tone, not wanting anyone to spoil the tender moment she had just spent with her friend.
"Yeah?" she whispered in a hushed tone.
"Chloe, it's me. I need some more help." Jack murmured in a regretful tone.
Chloe returned to the holding room containing her station after making sure she was alone. She switched the phone to her other ear and brought up the satellite images for the farmhouse. "What do you need Jack?"
"I need you to find out how many people are in or around the farmhouse."
"Already on it Jack," Chloe says knowingly, bringing up the thermals to overlay on to the satellite feeds, yielding results immediately. "Got it! From the looks of it, there's four men inside the main farmhouse, two outside working on the missile, two guarding them and one patrolling the perimeter."
"Thank you Chloe."
Chloe sensed that this would be her last communication with Jack for a while, and so decided to make sure she knew what was going on.
"Jack?"
"Yeah Chloe?"
"What are you going to do now?"
Jack paused in disbelief for a second, wondering why Chloe was asking this. "I'm going to move in and take everyone out then do whatever I can to stop the missile."
"I know…but what about after?"
"What do you mean 'after'?"
"After you've stopped this attack. I'm worried about you."
"What have you got to worry about?"
"Kim's dead Jack, you need time to mourn."
Chloe realized as soon as the words escaped her mouth that it was a mistake. Jack pauses, letting himself calm down a little before he reacts.
"I don't want to talk about that right now, I need to focus. I'll think about afterwards when it's over."
Jack hung up the phone abruptly, not for the first time today. He lay down lower in the grass, making sure he is not seen as he continued to watch for the patrolling mercenary.
Counter Terrorist Unit – Financial District – Los Angeles – 7:24pm
Back on the CTU floor, Tony and George stood beside the station recently vacated by Chloe. Tony looked at George with a mixture of anger and frustration, repeating his question for the second time.
"Where is she George?"
"Tony, stop worrying! Michelle will start to wonder why you're talking about another woman so much if you keep going like this."
"George, with all due respect, I am still in charge of this place. My chief analyst disappears from under my nose and no-one is telling me what's happened."
George looked like he was struggling to keep the truth from Tony, who continued to badger the truth from him.
"I broke the news that she'd gone, and now you seem like you know where she is. If you don't tell me, I'll call division and let them know that you're impeding the investigation into today's attacks. You'll be replaced before you can stay standing."
George looked crestfallen, knowing that he couldn't hold out much longer. He noticed Ryan appearing form the direction of medical, half dreading and half praising his arrival. The acting director noticed his colleagues and approached them, a broad smile on his face. Tony turned, expecting to see a normal worker, but stared in complete awe as Chapelle approached.
"Hey guys, what's up?"
George almost burst out laughing at Chapelle's new carefree attitude, imagining that he must have taken a larger blow to the head than first thought.
"What are you doing here Ryan?" Tony said, somewhat angrily.
"I'm helping you out Tony, the same thing I've been doing all day," Ryan smiles "Oh, and George, I've decided you can stay. I still don't know why you came here, but we could use the extra pair of hands."
"Gee, thanks Ryan." George replied with major sarcasm.
"Where's Chloe?" Ryan asks.
George looks in confusion at Chapelle "Ryan, you know what happened – she was involved in a hit and run, we can't find her."
Tony fired George an angry look, one rendered useless by Ryan's obstinacy in response.
"Why wasn't I told about this!"
Tony forgot his battle with George and joined him in looking in sheer confusion at Ryan. The still frail man looks back in equal wonderment, interrupted by Melanie attracting his attention with a shout. He gave the two men one last look and turned to see her. As he had his back to them, George whispered to Tony, "We get rid of him, I'll explain about Chloe. We can't have him on the floor, he's a liability." Tony nodded and looked back at Ryan who had started to return, beginning to wonder how they could get rid of him. The phone rang at the vacant station, with Tony picking it up. He smiled a little as he heard Curtis's voice.
"Hey Curtis, how's things at Union Station?"
"We've got fourteen dead, about thirty injured. Could have been a lot worse."
"Yeah, good work Curtis. Did you take any of the terrorists into custody?"
"We have one. The rest are either dead or missing."
"I heard Jack had trapped one, is he bringing him in?"
"That's just it Tony…"
Curtis's voice had an ominous tone that Tony had heard too many times when Jack was involved.
"What do you mean Curtis?"
"Jack had him trapped in the ventilation systems, and there was only one exit. I found Agent Cairn unconscious around an hour ago – he was guarding that exit."
"What are you saying Curtis?"
"Jack took this man out of custody Tony. He's acting on his own authority."
"But why? He wouldn't endanger this mission."
Curtis was silent for a few seconds., not knowing how to tell Tony about the two most important casualties of today's events.
"Two of the fourteen dead…were Kim and Chase."
"Oh my God."
"Kevin Cassel had been targeting Kim all day – I assume Jack is getting revenge."
George began to look at Tony with a bewildered look, not having the privilege of hearing Curtis's side of the conversation.
"Curtis, as soon as you've finished at the station I want you to find Jack. I don't care what it takes or how you do it, consider him extremely dangerous."
Curtis would have usually protested at such treatment of a colleague, but this time he knew it was justified. Jack was dangerous, and he needed to be found.
Small Farmhouse – Northern Los Angeles – 7:31pm
The patrolling mercenary wandered slowly around the perimeter of the farmhouse. Although his movements suggested a lack of concentration, his eyes were always searching the horizon for a threat. All their team had been told was that an intercepted communication had suggested that someone knew of the attack and that they had to defend the missile with their lives. However, from the deathly silent atmosphere surrounding him, he assumed that their intel had been wrong. As he turned to walk the fifty yards or so back to the house he sensed movement behind him. He wheeled around in its direction, pointing his gun nervously and seeing nothing. He freezes for a second, not moving an inch and hoping to hear the sound again. The last sound he heard was the sound of a blade being retracted.
Jack twisted the blade in the mercenary's back, holding his hand over his mouth as he did to keep things silent. He felt the man go limp and then dropped him to the ground, closing the knife and readying his pistol again, searching the horizon for anyone coming to the man's aid. There was none.
Jack moved slowly towards the farmhouse, covered by the long grass.
Secretary of Homeland Security's Office – Downtown Los Angeles – 7:33pm
Margo sat waiting impatiently for the phone-call from her contact tracking her boss. She wondered whether she had done the right thing giving the order. What if he is going to see the President? Margo's thoughts were interrupted by the shrill sound of the telephone, which was quickly halted. Margo breathes a sigh of relief as her contact speaks.
"Hey Margo, I've just been handed that trace you asked for."
"Great. Where is he?"
The man on the end of the line paused hesitantly.
"I don't know if we should be doing this Margo?"
She humoured him for a minute.
"Why not?"
"It's pretty much spying on the Secretary of Homeland Security Margo, it's a federal crime."
Margo sighed. She knew all this, Lord knows she had thought the same things, but she had blocked out her reservations. It hadn't been too hard after the Secretary's strange behavior over the past few days.
"I'll take all responsibility Mike, it stops with me."
Palmer's chief of staff still looks skeptical, but he takes the information out of its envelope nevertheless. He looked at the data on the sheets and frowned a little, not believing what it was saying.
"Margo…he's gone to LAX."
"LAX! Why the hell would he be going there?"
"I don't know. What did he say as he was leaving?"
"He told me he was going to see David."
Mike was still looking at the data when he spoke his carefully chosen reply.
"I need you to try and get hold of him Margo, get him to come back to the office."
"Why do I need to do that Mike? He sent me home, he's not going to answer his cell-phone – he'll just think I'm asking him about work again."
"Find a reason Margo, we need him."
The tone of Mike's voice alarmed Margo a little.
"We need him? What's that supposed to mean?"
"During times like these, any unexpected behavior has to be treated with suspicion. You said yourself that Byrne hadn't been acting like himself."
Margo could not believe what Mike was implying.
"So you're saying I have to get Byrne back here because he could be a terrorist? That's absurd!"
"Just get him back Margo. This is only a precaution."
Mike hung up and left Margo still holding the phone to her ear, gripped in chalk-white knuckles. She ran over the implications of what Mike had just suggested in her head and still couldn't make sense of them. The Secretary of Homeland Security a terrorist? That's crazy. She paused again for a second, before moving to close down her computer. Mike Novick had always been a friend to Margo, but she would be damned if she'd accept his half-baked explanation of events. The computer finished closing down and the tired-looking receptionist stood up, ushering the many pieces of paper on her desk into neat piles before walking to the door. She did her usual check of her surroundings before leaving, making sure everything was in order. Byrne can explain everything on Monday when he's back, Margo thought defiantly, then Mike can eat his words.
Small Farmhouse – Northern Los Angeles – 7:37pm
Jack Bauer reached the farmhouse wall and pressed himself against it carefully. He listened intently, trying to gain clues as to where his targets were inside the room. He heard loud pacing getting slowly louder then quieter, telling him that someone was getting impatient. He also heard a dull drone that seemed like speech, but he was too far away to make out the individual words or subject matter. He slowly crawled along, trying to get closer. On hearing the voices get significantly louder, he crouched against the wall, freezing in position, making no sound.
Mikhail began to lose his temper.
"I don't care what your superiors have said; no-one hijacks this operation!"
"Calm down Mikhail, we've already warned you. We were told you needed protection and we are providing just that. We aren't here to hijack anything."
Mikhail walked quickly towards the small but strong-looking man.
"So what exactly do we need protecting from?"
The man turned his head away from the angry Mikhail with a note of derision and fatigue, enraging the huge figure of the Russian-American Mikhail. He seemed to bristle with anger, his large noble face going quickly red as he tried to control it. He slowly went face to face with the other man, breathing deliberately, trying to instill fear. He spoke in a slow, deliberate tone, making sure he got his point across.
"When this missile goes off, you better get out of here quickly, because once this mission is over I'm going to find you and kill you. No-one crosses me."
He turned and walked away towards the back window to see the missile, but stops as he hears the cocking of a pistol. A wry smile formed on Mikhail's lips as he turned slowly around raising his hands. The two other men in the room also drew their guns, pointing at their respective enemies. Phil wore a look of complete confusion, wondering what had just happened. The silence was broken as the first man speaks in a confident tone, belying his situation.
"I'm sorry Mikhail. You know the people we work with – if you get too big for your role, you are eliminated. They were my orders."
Mikhail's eyes seemed to glaze over as he understood the mercenary's words, realizing what his fate would be after his ill-chosen words. He was the only one in the room not holding a gun, a fact which he realized as he looked to the other side of the room, spotting his weapon.
"So are you going to shoot me?"
Jack had listened to the whole exchange between the men and was awaiting the perfect chance to move in. He faced the window above him and slowly inched his way up to get a view of the proceedings. He watched Mikhail stare down the barrel of the un-named man's gun with a look of fear, but also one of contentment as though his troubles had just been solved. However, he inched a little higher when he noticed that none of the men were facing in his direction. He slowly rose his gun, making sure to not make a sound, aiming at the head of the chief mercenary. A second later, the man was falling to the floor, killed instantly by the bullet that only had only just escaped from Jack's pistol. He ducked back into hiding as chaos erupted in the small farmhouse. The man who had been aiming at Phil stared in shock at his falling comrade, but only for another second as his target fired on him twice, wounding then killing on the second shot. Mikhail ducked behind one of the pillars in the room, trying to cover himself from the hidden assailant. Thoughts raced through his head as he looked around in a paranoid manner. They were right, we were being tracked. The others have to be warned. Taking a massive risk, he ducked from his cover and shouted to the men outside. The breath caught in his throat as he shouted though, his eyes not finding any of the men who had been outside just moments ago. He must have stood for a few seconds in clear view of Jack, but he hadn't fired. Mikhail turned around, not seeing any more threats. Phil also thought the same, and picked up Mikhail's gun from the desk on his side of the room. After handing it to Mikhail, the pair stalked out of the farmhouse's back door, covering each other as they went. However, just as Mikhail's attention was drawn to the missile and the distinct lack of personnel around it, a silenced shot found the back of Phil's head; another instant kill shot from Jack Bauer. Before Mikhail can react and acknowledge his friend's killer, Jack had his silenced pistol trained on the man's head.
"PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN MIKHAIL! IT'S OVER!"
Mikhail cursed under his breath at not covering his friend better, and had no choice but to throw his weapon towards Jack. He moved forward and retrieved it as his captive placds his hands behind his head, going to his knees immediately. Jack was a little surprised by his sudden compliance and knowledge of what he would have asked him to do, but he knew why; Mikhail had most probably been a soldier. Betrayed and then turned...always happens. Jack moved forwards, still aiming his gun with one hand while he retrieved a set of handcuffs, handing them over to his captive. Instinctively, Mikhail cuffed himself, kneeling helplessly in front of the CTU agent he knew very well.
"Hello Jack. I wondered if I would ever get the pleasure of meeting you."
"The pleasure will be all mine Mikhail."
In one swift movement, after taking a look at the missile lying resplendent in front of him, Jack drove the butt of his gun across Mikhail's face; knocking him out cold. Without batting an eyelid, Jack rushed towards the missile, taking out his cellphone to call the only person who could help him through this. The call was placed, and Chloe answered immediately.
"Jack?"
"Chloe, eight of the nine men are dead and the other is in custody."
"What about the missile?"
"I'm looking at it." Jack stated grimly "It's armed."
"Alright," Chloe said, trying to hide her fear and nerves over the job at hand "There should be a console somewhere on the missile launch device, it should tell you how long you've got left."
"There's a problem with the console, one of the men destroyed it before I could get to him. Would that affect the countdown?"
"Probably not, the console just gives information, it doesn't stop the missile."
"So what are our options?"
"I've been looking into it since you last got off the phone…"
Jack tensed himself for the worst.
"And I haven't been able to find any way to disarm it in the probable window of attack. Our best bet is to notify the air force and have them shoot it down before it hits its target."
"Chloe, you know that isn't possible. There's a reason they picked a short range ballistic missile; it's to make sure we don't have enough time to shoot it down. We stop it now or millions die."
"You'll get yourself killed."
"I'm already dead Chloe."
There was a silence on both ends of the line as Chloe thought of what to say to the mentally unstable agent. Jack breaks the silence first.
"The tail number of this missile is SS-1 – find anything you can on who it belongs to, see if it's stolen or purchased."
"Are you sure it's an SS-1?"
"Yeah, of course I'm sure, I can see it."
Chloe is silent for a moment, as if hiding something, but she talks before Jack can notice it.
"I'm sending the blueprints of the missile to your PDA."
"Thank you Chloe."
"What about you Jack? What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to stop this thing."
Jack hung up and waited for the blueprints to come through. When they did, Jack noticed the notes Chloe had added to it, including where the virus was probably being held. Jack hopped up onto the launcher, moving to the front of a missile, then running his hand over the smooth body of the missile. He searched for the hatch that the terrorists must have opened to put the virus in, hoping that he could simply take it back out. He found the groove but it felt different, somewhat warm. On closer inspection, Jack let out a deep breath of anguish as he saw that the hatch had been crudely welded shut. However, his anguish subsided a little as he began to see how crudely.
He searched around him for a tool to give him leverage, eventually jumping off the launcher and moving to the large shed just at the back of the missile. He emerged seconds later, brandishing a crowbar that seemed to be double ended with an axe. He jumped back up onto the launcher and went to work trying to pry open the hatch, only having a little success. Then suddenly, a light on the launcher started to flash, strobe-like, while a siren wailed. Two minute warning. Jack put all of his remaining strength, both emotional and physical into prying open the hatch, moving it a little, until suddenly feeling the pressure ease as the hatch eased open. A few more seconds and it swung open freely, giving Jack a clear view of the inside of the missile head. And there, almost gleaming in the centre, was the large vial of virus. He wanted to reach inside and grab it immediately, but his instincts told him that there would be fail-safes for that sort of action. The siren was blocking his thoughts as the seconds ticked by. Jack followed the path of the wires connected to the virus, but always lost it as he lost concentration. His subconscious moved to thinking of his dead daughter, then to making Jack wish he was dead, and then with that moment of clarity, he made the risk of reaching in and physically pulling the vial out. He held his breath.
The vial shifted awkwardly in its housing, snagged on something. Jack pulled again but it snagged harder. One more chance. Jack pulled for the final time and the vial extricated itself, almost throwing Jack backwards. He looked down, feeling a wave of nausea and sadness creeping over him upon seeing Kim's cause of death cradled in his arms. He rushed away from the missile, placing the vial safely by the farmhouse away from the source of ignition.
It was then that a horrible thought dawned on him. One that told him the missile would cause damage with or without the virus inside it.
The warhead was still filled with explosive, and there was no indication as to the target. Jack had to stop the missile launching or innocent people would still die. He knew he didn't have long, so he did the only thing he thought possible in such a short space of time.
He jumped onto the launcher again, this time moving to the tail of the missile, then, with all his strength, he drove the axe into one of the fins. He pulled it out and then hit it again. Again, and again, and again. When jack stopped, puffing and panting with no strength left, the fin was deformed and bent back against the body of the missile. He didn't know if it would be enough, but in the next few seconds, he would have to hope it was.
Fire began to erupt from the boosters just below the fins. Jack leapt from the launch-pad, his body feeling like it was on fire from being so close to it. Just as he leapt, the missile slowly left the pad, picking up speed as it found open air. Just as it seemed to be stable, killing Jack's hopes, it began to wobble.
At first the wobbling wasn't noticeable, but then it became more and more pronounced. The missile dipped and rose erratically, and then moved into a dive around a hundred yards away from Jack's position. It continued to dive until it found the ground, exploding on contact. Flame engulfed the site as the missile disintegrated, but it hadn't hurt anyone. Jack lay back on the ground of the back yard, taking his first opportunity in around eighteen hours to get some rest. He stared up to the rapidly darkening sky, taking in the final shafts of sunlight in quiet contemplation. Seconds later, his ice-like expression began to show signs of wear and tear as his bottom lip began to wobble. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as tears began to form in his eyes. They began to fall down his face as he lost all control, sobbing uncontrollably on the grass. The clock appears on the screen, silent, overlaid by Jack's sobs and laboured breathing.
Busy Los Angeles Street - Downtown Los Angeles – 7:49pm
Margo sat apprehensively behind the wheel of her car, cursing to herself at the traffic. She had thought that the worst of it would have cleared from the earlier rush hour, but the events at Union Station earlier that evening had caused a little panic amongst locals. The traffic moved at a crawl through the streets, with pedestrians moving faster than the vehicles. Margo's mood perked up a little as she noticed a shortcut opening up on her right. She debated the legality of such a maneuver, but she couldn't stay in this much longer. She pulled out to the sound of blaring horns, moving into the narrow lane and speeding down it to make sure she wasn't noticed. The exit of the lane loomed large but suddenly a black Lexus pulled into the lane, driving slowly in the opposite direction towards her. She sounded her horn angrily, but the car continued to move towards her. She slammed on the brakes and began to reverse, cursing loudly at the driver of the other car. However, as she looked in her rear-view-mirror, she saw an identical black Lexus pulling into the lane from where she entered. An icy-cold fear gripped her as she realized she was trapped.
The car in front of her stopped. She peered through her own windscreen, but the blacked out windows of her pursuer gave nothing away. Just as she looked closer, her windscreen was broken by a bullet, doing nothing to stop it finding its way into her forehead. She was thrown back into her chair by the force of the bullet, slumping down. The two Lexuses pulled out slowly, leaving Margo and her stationary vehicle in the dark lane. They knew that once darkness fell in the next hour, she would not be found until it was too late.
Split screen.
Margo was clearly dead in her vehicle as the alley becomes deserted, leaving no trace of the attack apart from the one hole in her windscreen.
Nolan sat in what seemed like a private office at LAX, looking pensive and checking his watch.
George and Tony talked to Ryan, trying to gauge the extent of the damage to his brain and memory caused by the explosion.
Curtis and his team have begun on their way back to CTU to gain information on Jack.
Jack lay on the grass, the sobbing subsiding a little as he regained his composure. He saw Mikhail begin to stir, so tried to get himself together, wiping his eyes and taking his gun. As soon as Mikhail opens his eyes, all he can see is the furious Jack Bauer pointing his gun into his face. He could see the redness around Jack's eyes so he guessed he'd been crying – far from making him laugh at Jack, it made him more scared. In Mikhail's mind, there was nothing more dangerous than an emotional man. Jack spoke slowly and deliberately.
"Your plan has failed. You see that flaming wreckage over there? That's what's left of your missile. It's over Mikhail, so I suggest you tell me what you know."
"What makes you so sure I know anything Jack? You've been where I've been – been on that need-to-know basis. I may have been at the top of the food-chain, but that just makes it worse. But if I were you, Jack, I'd get the hell out of Los Angeles soon."
"Why? Is there going to be another terrorist attack?"
"Define terrorist Jack."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well some may call us terrorists, I'd call us Patriots. You're going to have a front row seat to the downfall of this country," Mikhail smiled an eerie, insane smile, "Strap yourself in Jack. It's going to be great."
"You're not Patriots; you're just common terrorists trying to derail this country and everything it stands for."
"Grow up Jack. You keep serving this country, but for what? Have you got any shiny medals? Anything you can hang up on a wall and show off? No, of course you don't."
"I have my pride, and I have my country."
Mikhail scoffed at Jack's words.
"Foolish sentiment Jack. Join the winning side; you can't protect your country from itself."
Jack stood up purposefully, growing tired of Mikhail's rants. He spoke with a careful, deliberate tone.
"Turn around."
Mikhail hesitated for a second but then turns around on his knees, still with his hands behind his head, fingers inter-locked. He closed his eyes, expecting the worst, but conversely welcoming it. Jack points the gun to the back of Mikhail's head, letting him feel the cold metal of the barrel.
"You have committed terrorist attacks against your own country. You helped plan the detonation of a bus bomb which killed a high ranking member of President Palmer's government and you attempted to release smallpox on American soil. You have killed innocent people…" Jack pauses before he continues "…including my daughter and my ex-partner. You have committed treason of the highest order…the penalty for which is death."
Mikhail waited for the bullet, but it didn't come. He opened his eyes slowly and turned around so he could see Jack's face. He breathed his final words.
"Go to hell Jack."
Jack armed his pistol with a loud click.
"I'll see you there."
Jack fired once, throwing Mikhail to the floor as the last of the daylight disappears, giving way to a cool, cloudless night sky.
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