DOD
Secretary Heller is sitting in a chair at his desk, pensive. He is feeling weary, but not at all sleepy. The office is dark, only a floor lamp in one of the corners of the room preventing it from being wrapped in complete darkness, the ticking of the clock on the wall his only companion. He has been in the office for quite a while, alone, first waiting to find out whether Jack had succeeded in freeing the former President, and after he was informed by CTU that he had, Heller sat there hoping to hear that Jack, too, had been found and rescued. Unfortunately, that call hasn't reached him yet.
Suddenly, the phone on his desk rings. Maybe this call is the one. he surmises. Or it could be the call telling him to find himself a new Special Assistant. Two rings later, he moves a hand and picks up the receiver. He just listens as his secretary informs him briefly that President David Palmer is holding for him, then he thanks her briefly and waits until he is put through. He clears his throat and straightens his back in the chair as he waits.
"Mr. Secretary, it's David Palmer." a deep voice greets him.
"Mr. President, glad to hear you're fine. How can I help you, sir?" he asks straight out, guessing this is not a social call.
"Mr. Secretary," David speaks in his presidential voice. "I'm certain you've heard that the only reason I'm able to talk to you right now is one of your employees: Jack Bauer."
"Yes, sir. I have been informed of the current situation. Jack Bauer is a good man, his credentials speak for him and his dedication. His experience is one of the reasons I wanted him on my staff."
Palmer looks out of the window of the limousine he is being chauffered in. "Then, I am also confident that you're aware of the fact that Jack saved my Presidency and my life more than once; including tonight." He pauses briefly. The door to Heller's office opens and Audrey walks in. Seeing her father is on the phone, she makes a move to leave the room again but he motions for her to stay, while still listening to Palmer, who soon continues.
"Jack agreed to a trade tonight, one that will without doubt get him killed. I called CTU Los Angeles and they said their units have already been redeployed and that they have no manpower to spare in order to try and get Jack out of this maniac's hands. The reason I am calling you is to discuss if there is anything that we can do for him." Palmer finishes and waits for a reply.
Heller leans forward in the chair, resting one elbow on the desk for a second as he asks: "Sir, do you mind if I put us on speaker? I have my Senior Policy Analyst here and she would likely be coordinating this."
"By all means." comes the answer.
Heller pushes the speaker button, then returns to the phonecall. "As for helping Jack, sir, I'm sure you are aware that the Department of Defense cannot easily get involved with internal security of the country because of the Posse Comitatus Act. It is the job of local and federal law enforcement, not the military."
"I am aware of that, Mr. Secretary. However, currently, the LAPD also has no officers to spare. Containing the attack on the LAMC is still their first priority. Many people require their assistance and the safety of the city must still be warranted. They cannot be expected to get involved with this. However, the Posse Comitatus does not apply to all situations. It simply states we cannot use the Army or the Air Force, but to my knowledge, the National Guard is exempt from the Act while under the authority of the Governor of a state."
"Yes, sir. The National Guard may be used at the behest of the Governor in this case, but I am doubtful if he sees this as a big enough crisis to mobilize National Guard units. And even if he did, sir, it might take days to complete."
Palmer shakes his head in disagreement. "Jack will be dead in a few days. He has hours at best, not days."
"I'm sorry, sir. I don't like this situation any more than you do." Heller replies and Audrey, hearing this, sinks weakly to a chair, trying to disguise the petrified look on her face. Jack is in one hell of a trouble if President Palmer is calling her father for help. She doesn't like what she's hearing, even knowing that there are boundaries as to how much they can legally do. Her hope is that neither of them will just surrender Jack to a murderer.
"Then what else can we do? There must be something." Palmer asks, reluctant to give in, not wanting to give up on Jack.
Heller thinks for a while, tapping a pen on the table a couple of times, before responding: "There might be a way, Mr. President. The Posse Comitatus specifically names the Army and the Air Force, but does not mention the Navy or the Marine Corps."
"I was under the impression that the Navy and the Marine Corps were added to it by the DOD as well."
Heller nods in agreement, rubbing his forehead. "Yes, Sir. But that directive can be... overridden if you will; in specific cases by the Secretary of Defense. We still might be able to use Marine units for this operation. They have been used in crisis situations in the Los Angeles area before."
This is just what he wanted to hear. Palmer is relieved at the reply and the confident glow returns to his eyes. "How long will it take you to mobilize the units once CTU has a location on Jack?"
"We can have the unit ready within the hour, sir."
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary. I'll instruct CTU to coordinate with your office. Let's hope we won't be late." he says gravely.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Palmer disconnects the call and Heller holds the receiver in his hand for a couple of seconds before hanging up. Then he turns the seat of his tall office chair towards Audrey and, looking at his daughter, explains the rest of the situation to her. "Jack has been taken hostage by the group that had threatened to kill President Palmer earlier, most likely the same people who were responsible for what happened at the Observatory this morning." He leans back in the chair again, drumming his fingers on the desk. "They killed Mark, then went after Jack, finally got to Palmer and now Jack has given himself up so that Palmer would survive."
"Where is CTU on locating Jack?" Audrey speaks, barely managing to keep her voice steady, trying not to break down at the thought her father's statement brings to her mind.
Heller shakes his head. "I don't know. It doesn't look good, Audrey. They've got their hands full trying to prevent the next attack Morgan's group has planned. I'm not sure how many resources they can devote to finding Jack. He is not their priority. Technically, he doesn't even work for them."
"But he works for us. You'll try to bring him back, right? I mean, he's too valuable to lose. You know how much he's worth to this office." she says, in an attempt to keep her argumentation job-related.
"I do." Heller replies, not entirely fooled by her. "And I know you and Jack are close friends, Audrey. I'll put the Marines on standby but they can't do anything until CTU finds him."
"I know. I'll stay in touch with CTU and let you know as soon as they do."
"Do that. And don't worry." he tells her, his voice paternal. She forces a smile and gets up again, leaving the room.
David Palmer's limousine stops close to a helipad with a helicopter waiting nearby. The back door to the car opens and Palmer exits, shielded by a new team of Secret Service agents. He mounts the aircraft with a couple of agents, Aaron Pierce enters last and the chopper flies off into the darkness soon afterwards.
Division, Interrogation Room
The guards took Tony into the room and placed him sitting on the chair. Dave uncuffs Tony, then moves to the door, joining Mitch. They both stand, watching Tony attentively for any unacceptable move, but the only move Tony makes is running a hand across his face in obvious frustration at his situation, then attempts to sit a little more comfortably in the metal chair.
The interrogation room doesn't differ from other interrogation enclosures Tony has seen during his career - it is small, grey, the walls unpainted concrete, designed to suck out any hope from prisoners detained within its four walls. There is no clock, no window, nothing to allow the detainee to estimate how much time has passed since he's been brought in, and knowing CTU's facilities, Tony guesses this one is very well sound proof, too, allowing interrogation to proceed undisturbed, however brutal it may become.
The room itself would be enough to give a little scare to your usual wanna-be-criminal. With its cold, neon light, the steel table with legs firmly built into the concrete, remeniscent of those you could see in morgues and on various TV shows, and the two metal chairs, one for the interrogator, and the other for - well, right now, for him, Tony. At one end of the room, there is also a concrete pole, running from floor to ceiling, its radius just a few inches. It carries numerous scratches along its height, from cuffs of unlucky prisoners forced to hug the pole while they were being given time to think or worse.
His surroundings don't scare Tony, though, he's seen this too many times already. But as he sits there, waiting, he forcefully closes his eyes, trying to block out the pain burning in his abdomen and his broken ribs. He leans his head to his hand, feeling the small beads of cold sweat on his forehead. He then lifts his head towards the guards, speaking up. "Listen, umm, would it be possible for me to get a bottle of water, please?"
Dave, seeing the pain Tony obviously is in, replies in the affirmative and gets him a bottle from the observation room.
"Thanks." Tony utters, and thinking this could take a while, then adds, "Could you get me the painkillers I left in the conference room?" already regretting not having swallowed a pill when he was about to.
"I think that's okay." Dave replies and leaves the room just as Hammond enters. Hammond then motions for Mitch to leave the room, too, who does, but remains standing by the door.
"So Tony," Hammond starts as he and Tony are alone, still standing. "Looks like you haven't changed. Still willing to sacrifice millions of innocents, albeit this time not for your wife but for revenge."
Tony, breathing shallowly, looks him in the eye, his hands on the table in front of him. "That's BS, Brad, and you know it. I'd never attack innocents or anyone in this country even after all that has happened."
"Don't try to skirt the issue! We got evidence and witnesses who said you were discussing these attacks with Ragen and coordinating the attack on Camp Pendleton." Hammond says in a no-nonsense tone, taking two steps towards the table, then remains standing there.
"Oh for God's sake, Brad, I was undercover posing as someone else. I had to make it appear like I knew about this in order to get more information!" Tony winces as another jolt of pain goes through him. Damn, I really need one of those painkillers or this is going to end badly.
"Even so, that doesn't explain you coordinating the attack." Hammond states neutrally.
Dave enters again, with the painkillers and is about to hand them to Tony as Hammond stops him, grabbing his arm. "What the hell are you doing?"
"He asked for his painkillers, sir." Dave replies.
"He's not going to get anything until he tells us what he knows." Hammond says, looking at Tony, and taking the prescription bottle from the guard's hand, he slips it into his jacket pocket.
Tony groans, partly out of frustration and partly out of pain. God that man is so stubborn. And a bureaucrat.
"Brad, I can't tell you what I don't know. Who is this witness of yours anyway, one of Ragen's men? You cannot possibly take them at face value. They knew I was working with Jack as we tried to get away with Marie Warner. This is their chance to get even, can't you see that!"
Hammond just stares at Tony, seemingly uninterested.
Tony sighs, thinking about what he could say to make the man in front of him at least try and find the evidence that will exonerate him. After a while, Tony continues. "Alright, look , I'm sure Ragen had surveillance on the compound. He wasn't stupid. Check the computers if they have any data on them or if there is any footage of the compound at the said time. Brad, I wasn't even in the OC during the Camp Pendleton attack, the surveillance could prove that."
Hammond stands there for a few seconds, then finally he nods. "I'll have to make a call for them to check it." He then leaves to the observation room next door.
Tony gives a small sigh of relief. If Hammond views the surveillance tapes, everything will be alright. He knows very well it is his only chance to avoid what could become a very unpleasant interrogation.
Hammond closes the door behind him and stands looking at Tony through the tinted, one way glass.
Division
Steve looks up from his computer to see Michelle walking back in. Quickly saving his work, he gets up and goes to her. "Michelle." he says her name, the word accompanied by a questioning look.
"The CSI people are taking care of the bodies. I decided to come back, I can work on the files faster with our software." she answers his unasked question. Steve nods, satisfied. She didn't have to explain herself to him and both of them knew it, but her candor towards her subordinates has been one of the things that made her at least a likable boss to him and most of his coworkers. Michelle, on the other hand, knew she wasn't telling the entire truth, but also that this explanation will have to do.
"Yeah, sure. Do you need anything from IT?"
"No. I'll be fine. Bring me up to speed."
Steve walks her to his desk, explaining to her. "Well, we just received new intel from Tony a while ago, he managed to get into Ragen's files. The BP refinery in Carson seems the most likely next target. CTU has already dispatched field teams to the location, Tom Baker's leading the op."
"Yeah, Carson makes sense, I found some information on the town and the surroundings on Marie's computer as well, but I didn't know what to make of it. There were no specifics. I'm guessing she divided the information between several files, hidden in code. I retrieved her password from the computer, I'll see what else there is."
"Okay."
"Where's Jack?"
Right, she didn't hear anything about that. "Well, the truth is, Jack has been taken."
"Taken?"
"Yeah, David Palmer had been kidnapped and Jack managed to trade himself in exchange for Palmer. The terrorists now have him and they'll kill him soon if nothing happens."
"Aren't we doing anything?"
Steve shakes his head slightly. "CTU has no-one to spare. I just got word that the DOD is getting involved and are placing the Marines on standby to go in, but we still have no location on Jack, so the clock is ticking."
Michelle nods and is about to ask how Tony's been doing, but as she sees Hammond enter the bullpen, heading straight towards the two of them, she just thanks Steve and goes to meet him.
Hammond walks to Michelle, his face showing signs of obvious anger: "Michelle, a word. I see you returned from the field, where you went without notifying me, your superior. Not to mention that you didn't have any business being in the field anyway, as we don't handle field assignments." Hammond launches his speech without giving Michelle a chance to respond between sentences.
She knew that was coming. Not only had she left Division without notifying him but had been the Ranking Agent at the time and should definitively have stayed in. So she attempts to ignore his attitude and his bulldog-face as she calmly replies: "There was no-one available at the time, Brad. Everyone was tied up with the LAMC situation. I tried contacting Jack and Baker but I couldn't reach them. I do have some field experience and I knew I could handle it."
"That is no excuse for leaving. We are in the middle of an operation. CTU or the locals handle field assignments. Not us!"
Fine, yell at me all you want. What's done is done.
Like an unrelenting storm, he continues. "Then, before I'm even notified that you're in the field, I get a call from Erin Driscoll informing me that you have effectively destroyed the only solid lead we had. You found Marie Warner and you killed her! She was supposed to be arrested, not shot so that you'd get revenge!" By now, Hammond is shouting and all eyes are on them.
"I wasn't planning on killing her. I wanted to arrest her but she was not just going to turn herself in! It was self-defense, Brad, I would not compromise the effectiveness of this unit just to get revenge."
"I don't want to hear your explanations. What I want from you is a detailed, written report on what happened. NOW. And you better hope we find another lead because if they get a chance to strike again, it will be on your shoulders."
"Fine. You'll have it. But you should know I was able to get into her files and I could try and retrieve something from them instead of writing a pointless report that could be done later."
Anger flashes up in his eyes. "Don't start, Michelle. You're mere words away from suspension as it is. Give the files to Steve, he'll assign them to someone. I want that report now." he says, wanting to keep her busy.
She stares him down for a few seconds, then mumbles: "Fine" and turns away instantly, walking past Marie's laptop she'd brought with her, past the desks and eyes of curious paper-pushers, and goes directly to her office. When she slams the door behind her, Hammond glances around the room and Division gets busy working again. The show is over.
As the noise level has risen, Steve turns to Hammond, quietly posing a question: "Has he said anything yet?"
"No, not yet. We'll let him sit and think it out a while. He's in pain already, that should hopefully make him talk."
Steve nods. "Ok, I'll let you know if anything new surfaces."
"Good." Hammond turns and walks away.
Steve gets back to work but glances upstairs to Michelle's office as he sits down in his chair. The blinds are closed, the light is off, and he can but guess the fury that must have built up inside her. He takes the laptop she brought with her, knowing it must be Marie's and switches it on. He needs the password and considers calling her, but guessing that she would ask about Tony and unsure if he could lie to her at this point, he reconsiders, and instead just sends a message to her system, asking about it.
DOD offices
Coming in from the corridor that is now unusually busy for the time of night, Audrey knocks on the door of her father's office and enters. Secretary Heller lifts his head at the knock and smiles slightly as she comes in. She walks to him wordlessly, then sits down on a chair to the side of his desk, the same chair she sat in just minutes ago while listening to the phonecall between her father and former President Palmer. Looking at her, concerned, he leans over to her and takes her hand between his.
"Are you okay?" he asks her.
She nods, somewhat absently. "I'm fine, I guess."
"You're worried about Jack." he states, not even making the sentence sound like a question.
"I am." she admits softly.
Heller squeezes her hand. "Audrey, look at me."
Slowly, she turns her head towards her father and meets his eyes with her own. He then continues. "Jack is a very strong man. He's seen and been through things that no man should go through - but he prevailed. We'll find him and we'll save him, you have to believe that."
"I know. It's just that he doesn't deserve this." She pauses. "The men who are holding him have no use for him. How do we know he's not dead already?"
"We don't. But we have to believe that if they had wanted to just kill him, they would have shot him at the exchange point. They didn't, which means they want to drag it out a little and that in turn means it will give us some time. Time that we'll use to find him and bring him back." he tells her convincingly.
"I hope so." she says, then tries to change the path of the conversation, so as not to sound pathetic. After all, she wasn't quite ready yet to tell her father that the reason she was worried was because she was falling in love with Jack. Not even Jack officially knew that and he wanted him to find out first. "Jack is really prepared to do anything, isn't he? He'll die without regret if he has to." she says, searching for an answer in her father's eyes.
Sighing heavily, Heller gets up from his chair, walks behind his daughter and places his hands on her shoulders before quietly replying: "Jack chose to do his job. He knew it was the only choice he had, Audrey. He saved David Palmer. Now we have to focus and do our best to save him, okay?"
He is right. Her rationality had always been her strong side and now she was letting it weaken, allowing emotions to take control of her while she was working. That has to stop. Now it is her who squeezes her father's fingers as she brings her palm up to his hand on her shoulder. "I know." she almost whispers.
After several seconds, she gets up and looks thankfully at him, her voice returning to that of a composed Senior Policy Analyst that she is, briefing the Secretary of Defense on the latest development in the case. "CTU has nothing on Jack yet. I've heard from the Marine unit you mobilized, they are ready to engage. I'll stay on top of this and let you know when we find his location."
He lets go of her hand as she heads towards the door. "Thank you. I'll be here." the Secretary answers.
She leaves the room soon disappears in her own office.
Division Interrogation Room
After sending the guards out of the room again, Hammond walks back inside it, and crosses his arms, looking at Tony. "Tell me what you did, Almeida."
Tony, feeling his latest dose of painkillers wear off by the minute, tries to get through to Hammond. He sighs deeply. "Look, how many times do I have to tell you? I do not know anything more then what I've already told you, Michelle and everyone else who debriefed me."
"And I don't believe you, Almeida. I have a witness and I am inclined to believe their word. So we'll just have to wait until you tell the truth!" Hammond responds angrily.
"You're wasting time, Brad. While you're trying to get me to say something you want to hear, the men who are actually responsible are getting away!" Tony says wearily, annoyed.
Unimpressed, Hammond sits down on the other metal chair in the room, not replying. He knows it's only a matter of time before anyone breaks and he can tell Tony's beginning to feel his injuries. Might as well let his own body talk to him for a while, he thinks.
CTU
Annie, walking back from the bathroom, calls out: "Chloe, have you seen my cell phone?"
Annoyed at first, Chloe doesn't even lift her eyes from the keyboard. "No, and you know you're not supposed to have personal cell phones in here anyway. Whoever needs to contact you can call you here." But then it hits her. Cell phone? Annie, who knew, you may have come up with something useful today after all!
"Oh, here it is." Annie mumbles to herself as she finds the phone underneath some papers on her desk. Chloe, on the other hand, making herself useful again, starts up a GPS locating program. Cell phones have a GPS chip. If Jack's is still on, I'll find him, she hopes.
Very soon, she starts getting results. The tracking software first points to a broad area to the Northwest of Los Angeles, then progressively narrows down the search radius until it indeed locates the signal of Jack's phone in the van where it had been forgotten and the search stops. Immediately, Chloe dials a number and nervously waits until Audrey picks up on the other end.
"I think I've got Jack's location!" she breathes into the phone. "Somewhere in the woods outside of L.A."
"Good job, Chloe. Give me the coordinates." Audrey requests, relieved, a pen already in her hand.
"Look, I've used the GPS in his cell phone, so I can't be 110 percent sure, but we could get lucky this time. The coordinates are 34°06'55.76 North, 118°20'03.12 West. Did you get that?"
"Yeah." Just to be sure, Audrey repeats the numbers to Chloe, then disconnects the call. She then hurriedly dispatches the Marine units to the location.
The cabin
The smell of burnt flesh permeates the cabin even with the door and windows open to the cold, windy, moonless night. Jack is now slumped in the chair, his shirt ripped open to allow for a larger vulnerable area, sweat is dripping from his face. His chest and stomach carry several burns, the skin is red and blistered where the flames did their work. While his men are standing a few steps behind him, Morgan approaches Jack, looking at him with pleasure, enjoying seeing his pain.
"We won't let you die Jack, not yet. Those are just a few second degree burns in such small areas of your body that they won't kill you. But they are painful, aren't they?" he says smugly.
Jack, actively forcing himself to breathe through the pain, gathers some strength as he is given a minute's repose. He lifts his head, locking his eyes with Morgan's. "Go to hell." he mumbles.
"Sorry, Jack. Can't do that right now." Morgan answers coldly and walks to Jack's left side.
Division / CTU
As she gets word that the DOD has dispatched the Marines, Chloe calls Division. Now, for once somewhat less hectic, she waits with the receiver in her hand.
"Division, Dessler." a voice, almost bored, picks up. As she waits for an answer, she turns away from the computer screen for a moment. The report she began writing reluctantly but knew it had to be done, sooner or later. She decided that sooner was the better option, so that she could start doing other things that were more important.
"Michelle, it's Chloe. Just wanted to let you know we probably found Jack and the Marines are on their way there right now."
"That's good news Chloe. How did you find him?"
"Through the GPS in his cell phone. I've located it to an area in the woods where one of Morgan's vans was headed. It is very likely that's where he is, unless of course Morgan took the phone off him and threw it out along the road, but that's a chance we have to take. It's the only chance we have."
Yes, it is, Michelle thinks. "Well, I hope you're right, Chloe."
"So do I."
"Any news on the refinery? Who's running tactical on that? Tony?" Michelle asks casually, her conscience now reminding her that she had meant to check up on Tony as soon as she got back to Division, but Hammond's insisting on an immediate report had sidetracked her.
"No. We're doing that now at CTU."
"Why? Wasn't Tony the one who discovered the target? I thought he would be coordinating the field teams." she inquires, sincerely puzzled.
"I don't know why, Michelle. Hammond called a while ago and put CTU on it. He didn't say why."
Brad? What is he up to now? "Well, have you heard from Tony since?"
"Now that you mention it, no, I haven't. But I didn't try contacting him either."
"Okay, Chloe, thank you."
Morgan's cabin
"Oh, what's this?" Morgan asks, noticing Jack's bleeding left arm through his shirt. "Ahh, yes. You ran into Ragen and his crew today, too, didn't you? Too bad that you failed to stop them. That must be nagging at you." Morgan taunts, shaking his head.
"We'll get them." Jack forces a reply through the pain.
"Someone might, but you won't live to see that." Morgan responds and walks to the kitchen.
Jack keeps his eyes on Morgan for a while, but as he disappears to the kitchen, Jack again looks down at the floor, letting his head hang, then closes his eyes. Morgan opens one of the cupboards, taking a box from it and throwing it to the other man in the room, Raul. Walking back, Morgan whispers into Jack's ear: "Did you think your luck would last forever?"
Luck? I wouldn't call my history that lucky. Except I somehow managed to escape the likes of you all these years, Jack ponders but lacks the motivation to enter an argument.
Morgan walks to the window again and looks outside while Raul tears Jack's shirt down from his shoulders. Removing the blood-soaked bandage from the stab wound in Jack's left arm, he pours salt from the box into the wound. As Jack groans loudly, then cries out in pain, Morgan smiles at his own reflection in the window. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
After countless grains of salt have entered and exited the wound, Morgan decides to let Jack recover for a while so that he's lucid enough to understand what is happening and what is said to him. He gets off too easily if he's unconscious. Morgan thinks.
Division
Michelle decides to check up on Tony, and, leaving the report to take care of itself for a while, she goes to the Conference Room where Tony was set up and knocks, opening the door when she receives no reply. She calls his name as she enters, but sees no-one.
"Tony?" she says again as she goes around the desk, looking at the floor in front of her, half expecting to find him passed out under the table. She lets out a small breath of relief, briefly closing her eyes when she doesn't see him, but the relief is short-lived as she soon realizes she doesn't know where else to look. Maybe he's at the clinic, he shouldn't be working yet, she ponders.
Standing by the chair, she glances around the room, trying to see it through his eyes, from the point he was sitting at, hoping that something might catch her attention and help her understand where he went. The laptop and monitors in the office look like he had been working and just got up from the desk very recently. She knows that if Tony himself had decided to go back to the clinic, he would have told her, or at least left a note if he couldn't reach her. They had been doing that for years, not wanting the other to worry. Besides, he would have saved his work and turned off the laptop. He would have told someone he was stepping down and no-one seemed to know anything; not here, not at CTU.
Papers and reports are scattered around on the conference table, and the laptop screen is showing that a search has produced results. The two monitors in the room are also online. On the left side is an overview of CTU and LAPD units and their locations and assignments. The newest order is flashing in red capitals next to Baker's team, indicating they are on their way to Carson. On the right side is a live feed of the situation at the LAMC. With CTU gone and most of the visitors having passed through decontamination already, the place seems to be under control of LAPD, NHS and LAFD. Bright floodlights directed at the building and its surroundings help overlook the area and make sure no-one escapes untreated and spreads the aerosol sticking to their clothes and skin.
Michelle lowers her eyes to the conference table again. She doesn't see Tony's painkillers anywhere but his gun and access card are still on the table, close to the laptop. The more she looks around, the more she begins to feel that not everything is right here. She places his things in a drawer so they don't lie around there openly and then exits the room, shutting the door behind her. Where could he be?
But then she remembers the guards Hammond had put on Tony earlier. She didn't believe his reasoning then. And it hits her. "He didn't… That bastard!" she mutters to herself and starts walking towards the interrogation area.
Sure enough, as she gets there, she recognizes the two guards outside Interrogation Room 4. She strides up to them with determination and says "Let me in there NOW!"
"No, Ma'am I can't do that", Mitch protests, as he takes a step towards the center of the door, thus blocking her path.
"Let me in there, that bastard has no right to hold Tony in custody, he's injured and he has done nothing!" Michelle shouts, pointing a finger at the door.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, those orders came straight from Mr. Hammond, and unfortunately, he outranks you. There's nothing I can do."
Michelle tries to push herself between the guards, managing to slam her fist against the door a couple of times, shouting, "Brad, you son of a bitch! Get out of there NOW!". The guards grab her and pull her away from the door, ruggedly pushing her away towards the wall and then letting go of her. "BRAD!" she yells again before her back hits the wall.
Inside the interrogation room, Brad and Tony hear her shouting. Annoyed, Brad decides to take care of the disturbance. "I'll give you a few minutes to think over your situation and I'll be right back."
"Brad!" Michelle shouts again and waits.
Morgan's cabin
Seeing that Jack is more lucid again, Morgan goes and kneels in front of him so that their eyes meet. "Do you want this to end, Jack? Do you? Just ask and we'll end this here. One bullet is all it takes. End your agony."
Jack raises his head slightly and looks at Morgan. Shivering from the pain and the cold, there's a moment where a part of him thinks: Yes, kill me, and his eyes seem to convey that. As if he's aware of that, Jack averts his eyes from Morgan again, not replying, not wanting to give Morgan the satisfaction of seeing him humiliated into begging for mercy. CTU still might come. And if not, I'll die, but I won't beg him to kill me. He'll keep this up for a while, then my body will give up. It's only a matter of time. And time doesn't matter here.
The irony of his own thoughts escapes him - time had been all that mattered for many years.
"You're a goddamned bastard." Jack utters after a while, his voice full of hatred. "Hope you burn in hell soon, along with your brother."
Morgan grins evily. "You first, Jack. You first." He stands and motions to Ron again, who goes outside, still holding the blowtorch in his right hand.
Division
Hammond steps out in the hallway, clearly annoyed by this interruption. "What is it, Michelle?
She glares at him with that are-you-kidding-me look. "Why is Tony in custody?" she hisses angrily.
"We got some new intel at Federal and need to question him further." Hammond replies, his face impassive. "You know this is not uncommon."
"You haven't answered my question. You could have talked to him in the conference room. He was overseeing Jack's mission. Why have you arrested him?"
"Because the intel suggests he has had something to do with planning and execution of these attacks that have taken place today," he is unable to keep the contempt from his voice as a look of disgust washes over his face. "Tony could have been leading Jack into a trap for all we know."
Michelle feels the blood in her veins freeze. Appalled, she glares at Hammond incredulously. "What?" she finally utters.
"You heard me. He's a suspect." he states indifferently.
As if waking up from a trance, Michelle shakes her head slightly. "Based on what?"
"Based on witness reports." Hammond says curtly, not willing to elaborate the source.
"What witnesses?" she presses, not letting go. Anyone implying Tony was a terrorist won't get off easily if she can prevent it.
Hammond leans closer to her, locking his eyes and hers. "Ragen's men." He emphasizes both words, letting the meaning and the implications sink in and linger.
Michelle would laugh out if it wasn't Tony he was talking about. "For god's sake, Brad, Tony was undercover. Don't you see all that this is is payback for ruining their plans? They figured Jack and Tony were working together and now they' re making this up! And you are falling for it."
When he doesn't reply, she sighs and continues. "Brad, I know my husband. He would never conspire with terrorists against this country. Why are you doing this? Please tell me it's not just for the satisfaction of seeing him behind bars... Do you have any hard evidence? Anything other than statements from a few criminals?"
"These men have no reason to lie. They are going to prison. And we cannot let a statement be disregarded just because it was made against someone who was working for us at a given time. Everything has to be thoroughly examined in this situation."
Michelle can't believe the stubbornness Hammond is once again displaying. He is right about the necessity to verify everything, but she is not at all certain if he is actually doing it or just going on assumptions. The latter would be her bet.
Split Screen
Audrey Raines is nervously pacing her office, visibly worried. She is holding a pen in her hand and squeezing it, then twirling it, then holding it and twirling it again, but is not really aware of her movements; they seem to be beyond her attention. She glances at the phone on her desk, then her computer screen - no news yet. It's too early, calm down, she tells herself, but it is not really helping. / Tony closes his eyes again, only slightly squeezing them in response to Pain's sharp blade that once again rips at his stomach. / Morgan stares at Jack, not letting any emotion reflect in his eyes. Jack returns the stare, ignoring Raul's presence, almost challenging Morgan by the simple reluctancy to avert his gaze.
Division
"Why do you think Tony would do this in the first place?" Michelle asks. "Set a trap for Jack, the only friend in the world he's got left? Conspire against Palmer, to get him killed, when he owes him his freedom? Team up with Marie Warner? A terrorist already behind bars? Why would he break her out of prison? Are you going to tell me he has had something to do with the Second Wave operation a few years ago, too? Is it really that easy, Brad? Is it that plausible? Do we just blame Tony for everything that goes wrong in this country from now on?" she concludes, her tone more than just sarcastic.
Hammond almost smiles at her comment. "Tony has placed his personal reasons above the country's wellbeing before this." Hammond replies very pointedly. "I'm sure you, more than anyone else, have noticed that he has changed. Maybe he just has changed more than you want to believe... Besides, as far as I know, I'm still running this office and I don't answer to you. I am following the line of investigation that I see as the most probable, given the current intelligence."
Michelle closes her eyes, sighing very deeply. That was just like Hammond, going with the easiest course of action. And who to blame but a convicted traitor? She shudders at that last word of her own thought. Tony should never have been pulled into this whole thing today. "Brad", she says quietly now. "I am asking you to reconsider. In his present condition, Tony should be nowhere but a hospital. Can't you at least hold off on this until he's better?"
"No. The longer we wait, the greater the chance of a new attack. We need to stop them now. All Tony needs to do is tell us what he knows and then we'll release him to a hospital." his voice leaves no room for argument.
She was expecting this. "And what if he doesn't know anything?" she asks.
Hammond doesn't reply. He knows something and he's bound to tell me sooner or later, he thinks.
Michelle knows she cannot bring this man to turn around and change his course of action. She just stares at him, thinking about what she could do to prove her husband's innocence.
A while later, Hammond turns on his heels and returns to the interrogation room.
As Hammond walks back inside, Michelle catches a glimpse of Tony, seated at the table. When the door opens, she sees him turn his head towards her and their eyes meet for just a second. There is no time for much unspoken communication before the heavy steel door shuts, but he knows, as he looks in her eyes, that he is the only reason she turned up there, and he is doing his best not to look desperate or hurt. She, on the other hand, is trying to give him some hope, her eyes telling him to hold on, but too soon she loses sight of him once again, separated from her husband by two guards, one heavy security door and one very stubborn bureaucrat.