Chapter 9

The following takes place between 4:00pm and 5:00pm EST, 1 year, 6 months after the US Senate hearing regarding the Counter Terrorist Unit.

Renee continued to tickle Teri, the sounds of her laughter filling the otherwise cold hotel room with warmth. Jack had begun dozing off, as his eyes fluttered shut, he saw Renee whisper something in Teri's ear. Seconds later, he felt something soft prod his face. He jolted awake.

Old habits die hard. Or in this case, old Delta reflexes.

Teri was now sitting on his chest, her stuffed polar bear hovering over his face. "Jack?"

"Sweetie, you're supposed to call him 'grandpa', remember?" Renee lifted her from under the arms, planting a kiss on Jack's cheek as she did so.

Inquisitively, with a face much like her mother's, she turned to Renee, "But he doesn't look like a grandpa? And you don't look like a grandma?"

They both giggled, as Jack smirked at Renee. "Couldn't agree with you more." Jack said, before craning his neck to look at the television. Footage of preparations for the Kamistani peace treaty were beginning at the UN, just blocks away from where he was. In her time as President, Allison Taylor had certainly made a good impression on Jack. Between her swift movements to reestablish CTU, and her determination to uphold the promises she made when she was elected, she was a breath of fresh air, and a beacon of hope in an otherwise dark America.

"I want to see the bears, grandpa!"

Bringing himself back to the present moment, he changed the channel to show the bear cartoon that his granddaughter adored but Jack could never remember the damn name of. His cell phone rang, it was Kim.

She's probably on her way back.

—

"Nearly done?" Renee called from the bathroom. They'd been packing their things, ready to catch a flight to Los Angeles, where they'd decided to move. Even though Washington was Renee's home, she'd moved around for work before, and now that she was working alongside Jack for Tony and Michelle, it made perfect sense. Plus she'd be closer to the kids. While they'd never explicitly discussed it, Renee knew she and Jack wouldn't be having kids of their own. Although it was something she'd wanted, a goal put on the back-burner in favour of a successful career at the FBI, being their friends' go-to babysitter had been just as rewarding.

"Yeah, we'll do one more sweep of the place, but I think that's everything." Jack half-zipped his suitcase, groaning as he stood up.

He heard a rapid knock at the door. Furrowing his brow, his eyes widened as he found Victor Aruz on the other side. And not just Victor Aruz, once a smart-assed yet valuable CTU informant, but a wounded Victor Aruz.

"Victor. What are you doing here? How the hell did you find me?"

"I was always resourceful, Jack, that's what you liked about me."

"Get in here. Take a seat." Yanking him inside, Jack slammed the door.

"What happened?"

"Jack? Who was it?" Renee shot a bewildered look at the profusely sweating, bleeding man on the chair next to the door.

"I need help."

He rolled his eyes. "You need an ambulance."

Victor shot out his hand. "No, don't call! That's what he's waiting for. He's listening to the emergency channels."

Renee walked around to face the stranger in the chair. "Who?"

"Just listen to me, I have information."

"The best I can do for you is get you an ambulance. I'm out, I don't work for the government anymore."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh this you're gonna want to hear."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"'Why?' Because you're the guy who always does the right thing. There's a big hit going down."

"On who?" Renee chimed in.

"President Hassan, at the UN, he's getting taken out. Russians, they reckon."

"When?"

"Today, before Hassan's thing with Taylor."

Renee and Jack looked at each other.

"You see? Told you you'd be interested."

—

After receiving Jack's information, Hastings agreed to have Aruz taken in. Of course, with associates of Hassan's potential assassin watching his every move this proved a challenge. Despite his and Renee's efforts, with Aruz losing blood and fast, it was becoming increasingly difficult to carry him. Finally, they reached the rooftop. Jack recognised the CTU logo emblazoned on the side of the chopper. A young agent with dark hair ran towards the trio, accompanied by two others.

"Where are the hostiles?" He shouted over the engine noises.

"They're dead. You need to get him out of here, he's losing a lot of blood." Aruz stumbled into the arms of the other agents as they moved back to the helicopter.

The young agent extended his hand. "Cole Ortiz. It's an honour to meet you both, thanks for doing this. Look, Hastings wants to debrief you back at CTU."

Jack shook his head. "We're not going back to CTU, we delivered him, we're done. We got a flight to catch."

"That's it?"

As Jack turned around he spotted a grey blur rapidly increasing in size. His eyes widened. Instinctively, he whipped around, tackling Renee to the ground. The chopper exploded in a furious yellow blaze. In the corner of his eye, he noted Cole a few feet away from them, seemingly unharmed.

—

The following takes place between 5:34pm and 5:36pm EST, 1 year, 6 months after the US Senate hearing regarding the Counter Terrorist Unit.

"If something terrible happens and you could've done something to stop it, I don't think you'd be able to live with yourself." Kim looked at him.

She's so much like her mother sometimes.

Renee rested a hand on his shoulder. "Jack, I know it's the last thing either of us want right now, but she's right. Plus, Victor said the hitter was Russian, I was undercover with Red Square for sixteen months, what if it's connected to them?"

Damn the both of you.

—

The following takes place between 10:40pm and 10:52pm EST, 1 year, 6 months after the US Senate hearing regarding the Counter Terrorist Unit.

She felt her skin crawl as Laitanin embraced her again. The stench of vodka on his breath. It took her a long time to even touch a martini after coming back from Russia. He was slightly unsteady on his feet. Clearly the liquor was beginning to get to him. Renee too, was unsteady. The muscles between her legs still seared. Yet another reminder of his presence. It took everything in her to not scream and run away. She had to remind herself that this was necessary. That this was going to save lives, because she was going to get the information she needed. Still he kept denying her. Funny, how he could continue to deny her of her pleas, yet she felt her life was in danger if she dared to deny him of his.

"I need this deal!"

He scowled at her. "That is why you're here? The deal?"

She met his scowl with an equally disgusted look. "Why else? You think I'm here for you?" Renee's blood was boiling, as she shoved his hand away.

Shaking his head, he punched her. Hard. Nothing he hadn't done to her before. But back then she'd at least built up a resistance to that sort of thing. She attempted to re-orientate herself as stars formed in the corners of her vision. But before she could do so, he grabbed her by the shoulders and struck her again. Renee fell to the floor, her abdomen twisting as she fell. Amongst the clatter, the bread knife had fallen to the floor with her. He hadn't noticed this. Finally, Renee Walker felt as though she had some power over Vladimir Laitanin. With the fury inside her, she could easily take him by surprise. But Renee did not want to let her fury get the better of her. No, Renee channelled her fury into courage. She would not allow let her emotions consume her the way they did last time with Alan Wilson. Renee Walker would exert her power another way.

With one quick motion, she swept her leg across his. As he flailed to the ground with a generous thud, hearing the tinkle of a tumbler falling with him, she took her opportunity to straddle him, and press the knife to his throat. He jerked instinctively underneath her, hissing as the blade made contact with his skin.

"Get off me, you stupid bitch!" He yelled, thrashing his limbs around.

"I've had enough. Tell me the name of your dealer, I want to talk to him, personally."

He spat at her. "Go to hell. Ungrateful сука."

Renee pressed the blade in again as he gurgled. He reached up to grab her face, but the collision of her bony knee with his testicles caused Vladimir to grunt in pain before he could succeed in doing so.

"F-Fine! It's Bazhaev. Sergei Bazhaev. But he'll be requesting your services."

She squinted at him. "And?"

Giving her a sly smile, he trailed his fingers up her arm. The one that wasn't holding the knife. "Maybe I just don't like the idea of sharing you, кыска."

Renee rolled her eyes. "You know it's just business Vlad…"

"I do." Vladimir pursed his lips, now tracing his fingers along her thighs. "Oh, Renee." The way he rolled the R at the start of her name repulsed her. Back in college, when a guy did that to her she thought it was the sexiest thing a man could say. But now? It was just another reminder of sixteen months lost. Sixteen months spent under his control. "What am I going to do with you, hm? When did you get so greedy? Although, I must admit I like this dominant side of you." He purred, tilting his head up. Renee leaned in to kiss him, thinking she had him back where she wanted him. But as her grip on the knife weakened, he took the opportunity to roll her off of him. Renee cried out as he slashed her forearm, and a glob of spit made contact with her cheek.

"You want the rods so badly? Take your friend and go. He's at his restaurant in Manhattan. But don't expect me to help you when оставляет он вас высоким и сухим."

She flashed him one final glower as he left the room.

Meanwhile, Jack had heard everything through the bug, and while he'd had to sit down, clench his fists, and hold every ounce of rage inside him when Laitanin had raped her, he'd been relaying information to CTU the entire time. But something felt off. It didn't seem right for Laitanin to just let her go. Or him for that matter. His men had already tried to take him out earlier, what was to stop them from trying again? Jack knew he and Renee had to get out, fast, if they wanted to make it out alive.

Renee tried to compress the wound. Albeit not deep, the cerated edge of the knife still left a significant blood stain across her pinstriped jacket. She hoped whatever limited information Jack had been given had been enough for CTU. And as if on cue, Jack walked nonchalantly into the room, so as not to arouse the suspicion of Laitanin's men. Ripping off a section of a throw rug, he made a make-shift gauze, helping her to her feet.

And much to her relief, the words he whispered in her ear caused every last bit of fear to drain out of her.

The mission had been successful.

They were getting out of there.