Chapter Two
Nicholas watched him arrive.
Watched the cavalcade of cars through powerful binoculars. Watched them speed down the thin ribbon of the desert road, fine clouds of dust and sand kicked up by the wheels. Marking their progress through the haze of dust and heat, making sure there were no sudden changes or alterations to the plan.
He lowered the binoculars and glanced at his watch.
Early afternoon. Right on time. Shit, the girl was good.
He put the binoculars away and kicked the motorbike into gear.
Things were starting to fall into place.
"Have you done this before?"
The heat of the day had faded into another chill desert night. He looked around before he spoke softly into her ear, his breath tickling her flesh. He couldn't see any guards about, but sound carried strangely through the desert at night, especially clear nights.
She nodded, the movement barely visible in the gloom. "A few times. It worked well for us, for a while. Until the local police got wise to what we were doing. Wait." She stopped him with a gloved hand, both of them falling silent as a pair of armed guards drifted past, talking quietly amongst themselves. She waited until they were out of earshot before releasing her breath, the sound sudden and loud through the stillness. "Your police, now they've never dealt with a threat like this."
"Like what?"
"Sophisticated low tech. If you don't use nukes or chemicals or anything..." she waved her hand in the air. "Fancy, you can stay below the agency radar. I reckon you'll get three, maybe four full operations out of this, not counting this one, before they get wise to you." She shrugged. "After that, you'll need to change tactics."
They stopped outside the garage, crouching low next to the door. She kept careful watch around them as he started to work on the lock. A simple turn and twist, and the lock opened. She slipped through the door, and he followed after her, closing the door quietly after them.
"Which car is his?"
She barely breathed the question, but it still seemed to echo loudly in the quiet room.
Her companion pointed at a large car. Powerful and black, the windows gleaming darkly in the torchlight. "That one."
She walked around it, examining it from all angles. "Nice."
"Armour plating, bullet proof windows. All the usual protective shit, paid for by the good people he's supposed to represent." He spat on the ground. "He gets all this, we're fucking dying back home and he does nothing but hinder us."
She ignored his rant. "Pop the hood." She took her bag off, setting it carefully on the floor. She stifled the sound of the release and propped it open, before unzipping her bag, staring at the contents. She was dimly aware that he had gotten out of the car and was standing by her shoulder, straining to see. She was reminded of her youngest brother one Christmas, so curious and enthusiastic.
So much time, so many years. So much blood.
She sighed and shook away her dark thoughts. Reached into her bag for tools. She would finish this and then go and see Niall. She had put it off for too long. He would be missing her. "We dealt with this sort of armour a lot back home."
"Does it make a difference?"
"Only with the placement. Normally you just put it under the car." She lifted a piece of equipment out of her bag. "But with this, you need to use the engine. Gives it a little extra kick. The heat'll help as well." She leaned over the engine, placing it carefully in the cavity. Then she laid down on her back and slid under the car, fixing another in the wheel arch. She smiled when she slid from under the car and saw his confused look. "Trust me."
He shrugged. "What about detonation?"
"Radio controlled." She wiped her hands and walked back to the engine. "Those two wires give us a little extra push on the signal. You can be miles away and still set them off." She finished tightening the connections. "Come on lets get out of here."
Force of habit woke Michelle at her normal time, the sun just beginning to kiss the horizon. She nearly jumped out bed, nearly ran for the shower, nearly started to get dressed for work.
Then she remembered. She rolled over, away from the window. Kicking the light sheet away from her. It was already hot in Nevada.
She thought, briefly about getting up anyway, since she was already awake. Thought briefly about LA and her colleagues.
Then sleep overtook her again.
"Morning Tony."
"Morning Ryan." Tony stopped at CTU's main entrance, letting his boss catch up with him. "I didn't expect you to be here today." This was just one more thing he could have done without.
"Division sent me down. They want a report on how the rebuilding work is going." Both Chapelle and Tony showed their passes to the guard on duty and walked on through the building. "They want to know why it's taking you so long to get back on track."
"We lost a lot of good people Ryan."
"I know you did, Tony, but this is an important office for us." He glanced at his watch. "I want a full briefing from you and Michelle on my desk by 10am at the latest." He looked around the office, at the early shift arriving, firing up workstations. "Where is Michelle anyway? I thought she started at the same time as you."
'Oh fuck. Here it comes.' "She's on leave Ryan."
"She's on leave?" Chapelle's eyebrows rose into his disappearing hairline. "With Jack out? Who made that decision?"
"I did."
"We're short staffed as it is, and you've let her go on holidays? Jesus Christ, Tony, we needed her here!"
"She needed a break Ryan. You know, like you and Carrie got after the nuclear threat?"
Chapelle opened his mouth and shut it with an audible click. "Just have that report on my desk by ten, Tony."
They were certainly being brazen.
Meeting in the open. Talking together. Taking very few precautions, mocking the locals. Mocking him, mocking their victims, the people that had suffered because of her, and her actions. People that had been killed or crippled, just because they were doing their job.
He shifted in his seat, lifting his drink, the ice long since melted. It was even hotter than it had been on the bus, the heat an almost physical presence, brooding and malignant across his shoulders. He was starting to miss the rain.
She didn't seem to have any problem with the heat. But then, her conscience never had been much of a problem.
Keeping his eyes on them, he pulled out his camera and took a discrete photo of the two. She was fucking cunning, he'd give her that. Anybody that didn't know her, what she was capable of would have thought they were just another couple on holidays together.
He lifted his phone and dialled quickly. "Put me through to Bailie."
The line clicked twice as he passed through the exchanges. "Bailie here."
"It's Michael. She's here and has made contact with an unidentified male, approximately 25. I'm sending you a photo. I need confirmation that it is actually her and I need an identity for him."
"What's she up to out there?"
"No fucking idea." He fought to bring his temper back under control. "Yet. Whatever she's doing she feels safe. The locals don't have a fucking clue."
It had grown hotter.
Michelle walked down the main street, enjoying the occasional shade cast by the trees lining the side of the road. Nixon was so different from LA, smaller, quieter, beautiful, slower, peaceful. Like the heat had burnt all the bloodlust and the wickedness away.
She sat down outside a café, sitting at a table beneath an overhanging branch, and ordered a cold drink.
This was so different from LA, from her life in LA.
She smiled bitterly. Assuming of course, she even had a life in LA, apart from work. She took a mouthful of the drink, feeling its chill spread through her. There was Tony, of course, to keep her sane, to make her smile when she thought of him.
She missed him, wished that he was with her. Wished that he was there to hold her, to fall asleep with her. Just to be there with her. She was almost looking forward to her return, just so she could talk to him.
Work was going to be difficult, though.
Could they cope with working together and sleeping together? How long before one or other of them got assigned somewhere else? How long before CTU happened to them?
How long before...
She jumped when her cell phone rang. She stared at it for a second, then snatched it up. "Hello?"
"You know, you really should turn that thing off."
She smiled at the smile she guessed was on his face. "I know, but I like to stay in touch. How are things going back there?"
"Michelle, you're on holidays. Relax. There's nothing going on here that we cant handle. I just wanted to talk to you."
She smiled, biting at her lip. "Really?"
"Yeah, I just missed hearing your voice. Anyway, I'll go and I'll stop bothering you. Oh and Michelle? Turn the damn phone off!"
She laughed. "I will Tony. Bye." She stared at the phone for a moment longer, running the conversation through in her head. He'd missed her, he'd said that. That he'd just wanted to talk to her.
She looked around the café, slowly starting to fill with customers, the sounds of their conversation filling the silence that had surrounded her. She glanced back at the phone and smiled.
Slowly, deliberately, she turned the phone off.
"This is so weird."
"What is?"
"This. Working with you. This whole...." He paused, wiping sweat from his forehead. "This is going to work isn't it? You know what you're doing, right?"
"Of course I know what I'm doing." She lit a cigarette, ignoring the disgusted looks of the people around her. "Everything is set. It'll work just the way we've planned it." She patted her hip pocket. "Everything is going to be fine."
"You think they'll get the message." He jerked his head away from the pale stream of smoke. "You think they'll start taking us seriously?"
"Oh they'll get the message. Sooner or later. Don't you worry about that."
It felt strange to have her phone off. Almost like she'd cut herself off, turned away from the Michelle Dessler she was in LA. It felt good, though. She felt free.
She finished her drink and fumbled in her purse, leaving enough money to cover the drink. She stood, pulling her shades down over her eyes, taking another long look at her now dormant cell phone. She tucked it away in her bag, burying it as deep as she could.
She didn't have to be that Michelle Dessler. She could be anybody she wanted to be.
Swinging her bag by the straps, she walked down the street, singing to herself.
She glanced back over her shoulder at the sound of a powerful engine, shattering the peace and stillness of the main street. Staring into the bright sun, squinting behind her shades, she saw three cars, driving down the street. Three large black powerful cars, the bullet proofed windows seeming to suck the light away. 'Government cars' her brain realised.
The man next to her spat on the ground, his weather stained features twisted with hate. "Bastard." He spat again.
She could see other knots of people gathering on the street, the same expressions of hatred on their worn and tired faces.
She turned to the man next to her. "Excuse me sir, but who is that?" She pointed at the cars.
The man squinted at her, his dark eyes narrowing. "You're not from around here, are you."
"No I'm from LA."
"You a tourist?"
"Yes." She was starting to feel like she had committed a crime, that she should be in a holding cell or an interrogation room.
He pointed after the cars, his hand shaking with anger and his face twisting further with hatred. "That's the Governor. Charles H McGarrity. Comes up here during the summer, pollutes the waters of Pyramid Lake with his lies." He spat on the ground. "Bastard."
Michelle opened her mouth to reply....
....an explosion ripped through the street.
She spun around to see the middle vehicle, burning fiercely, tossed in the air like some child's toy. It landed, almost gracefully, on its back. The following vehicle skidded to a halt next to it. The passenger door flew open and a man jumped out, pulling a pistol from a holster on his hip. He stopped next to the burning car, his eyes scanning the wreckage, looking for some way to safely approach it.
Michelle started to run towards him. "Wait! It's...."
A second explosion tore through both vehicles.
Nicholas watched him arrive.
Watched the cavalcade of cars through powerful binoculars. Watched them speed down the thin ribbon of the desert road, fine clouds of dust and sand kicked up by the wheels. Marking their progress through the haze of dust and heat, making sure there were no sudden changes or alterations to the plan.
He lowered the binoculars and glanced at his watch.
Early afternoon. Right on time. Shit, the girl was good.
He put the binoculars away and kicked the motorbike into gear.
Things were starting to fall into place.
"Have you done this before?"
The heat of the day had faded into another chill desert night. He looked around before he spoke softly into her ear, his breath tickling her flesh. He couldn't see any guards about, but sound carried strangely through the desert at night, especially clear nights.
She nodded, the movement barely visible in the gloom. "A few times. It worked well for us, for a while. Until the local police got wise to what we were doing. Wait." She stopped him with a gloved hand, both of them falling silent as a pair of armed guards drifted past, talking quietly amongst themselves. She waited until they were out of earshot before releasing her breath, the sound sudden and loud through the stillness. "Your police, now they've never dealt with a threat like this."
"Like what?"
"Sophisticated low tech. If you don't use nukes or chemicals or anything..." she waved her hand in the air. "Fancy, you can stay below the agency radar. I reckon you'll get three, maybe four full operations out of this, not counting this one, before they get wise to you." She shrugged. "After that, you'll need to change tactics."
They stopped outside the garage, crouching low next to the door. She kept careful watch around them as he started to work on the lock. A simple turn and twist, and the lock opened. She slipped through the door, and he followed after her, closing the door quietly after them.
"Which car is his?"
She barely breathed the question, but it still seemed to echo loudly in the quiet room.
Her companion pointed at a large car. Powerful and black, the windows gleaming darkly in the torchlight. "That one."
She walked around it, examining it from all angles. "Nice."
"Armour plating, bullet proof windows. All the usual protective shit, paid for by the good people he's supposed to represent." He spat on the ground. "He gets all this, we're fucking dying back home and he does nothing but hinder us."
She ignored his rant. "Pop the hood." She took her bag off, setting it carefully on the floor. She stifled the sound of the release and propped it open, before unzipping her bag, staring at the contents. She was dimly aware that he had gotten out of the car and was standing by her shoulder, straining to see. She was reminded of her youngest brother one Christmas, so curious and enthusiastic.
So much time, so many years. So much blood.
She sighed and shook away her dark thoughts. Reached into her bag for tools. She would finish this and then go and see Niall. She had put it off for too long. He would be missing her. "We dealt with this sort of armour a lot back home."
"Does it make a difference?"
"Only with the placement. Normally you just put it under the car." She lifted a piece of equipment out of her bag. "But with this, you need to use the engine. Gives it a little extra kick. The heat'll help as well." She leaned over the engine, placing it carefully in the cavity. Then she laid down on her back and slid under the car, fixing another in the wheel arch. She smiled when she slid from under the car and saw his confused look. "Trust me."
He shrugged. "What about detonation?"
"Radio controlled." She wiped her hands and walked back to the engine. "Those two wires give us a little extra push on the signal. You can be miles away and still set them off." She finished tightening the connections. "Come on lets get out of here."
Force of habit woke Michelle at her normal time, the sun just beginning to kiss the horizon. She nearly jumped out bed, nearly ran for the shower, nearly started to get dressed for work.
Then she remembered. She rolled over, away from the window. Kicking the light sheet away from her. It was already hot in Nevada.
She thought, briefly about getting up anyway, since she was already awake. Thought briefly about LA and her colleagues.
Then sleep overtook her again.
"Morning Tony."
"Morning Ryan." Tony stopped at CTU's main entrance, letting his boss catch up with him. "I didn't expect you to be here today." This was just one more thing he could have done without.
"Division sent me down. They want a report on how the rebuilding work is going." Both Chapelle and Tony showed their passes to the guard on duty and walked on through the building. "They want to know why it's taking you so long to get back on track."
"We lost a lot of good people Ryan."
"I know you did, Tony, but this is an important office for us." He glanced at his watch. "I want a full briefing from you and Michelle on my desk by 10am at the latest." He looked around the office, at the early shift arriving, firing up workstations. "Where is Michelle anyway? I thought she started at the same time as you."
'Oh fuck. Here it comes.' "She's on leave Ryan."
"She's on leave?" Chapelle's eyebrows rose into his disappearing hairline. "With Jack out? Who made that decision?"
"I did."
"We're short staffed as it is, and you've let her go on holidays? Jesus Christ, Tony, we needed her here!"
"She needed a break Ryan. You know, like you and Carrie got after the nuclear threat?"
Chapelle opened his mouth and shut it with an audible click. "Just have that report on my desk by ten, Tony."
They were certainly being brazen.
Meeting in the open. Talking together. Taking very few precautions, mocking the locals. Mocking him, mocking their victims, the people that had suffered because of her, and her actions. People that had been killed or crippled, just because they were doing their job.
He shifted in his seat, lifting his drink, the ice long since melted. It was even hotter than it had been on the bus, the heat an almost physical presence, brooding and malignant across his shoulders. He was starting to miss the rain.
She didn't seem to have any problem with the heat. But then, her conscience never had been much of a problem.
Keeping his eyes on them, he pulled out his camera and took a discrete photo of the two. She was fucking cunning, he'd give her that. Anybody that didn't know her, what she was capable of would have thought they were just another couple on holidays together.
He lifted his phone and dialled quickly. "Put me through to Bailie."
The line clicked twice as he passed through the exchanges. "Bailie here."
"It's Michael. She's here and has made contact with an unidentified male, approximately 25. I'm sending you a photo. I need confirmation that it is actually her and I need an identity for him."
"What's she up to out there?"
"No fucking idea." He fought to bring his temper back under control. "Yet. Whatever she's doing she feels safe. The locals don't have a fucking clue."
It had grown hotter.
Michelle walked down the main street, enjoying the occasional shade cast by the trees lining the side of the road. Nixon was so different from LA, smaller, quieter, beautiful, slower, peaceful. Like the heat had burnt all the bloodlust and the wickedness away.
She sat down outside a café, sitting at a table beneath an overhanging branch, and ordered a cold drink.
This was so different from LA, from her life in LA.
She smiled bitterly. Assuming of course, she even had a life in LA, apart from work. She took a mouthful of the drink, feeling its chill spread through her. There was Tony, of course, to keep her sane, to make her smile when she thought of him.
She missed him, wished that he was with her. Wished that he was there to hold her, to fall asleep with her. Just to be there with her. She was almost looking forward to her return, just so she could talk to him.
Work was going to be difficult, though.
Could they cope with working together and sleeping together? How long before one or other of them got assigned somewhere else? How long before CTU happened to them?
How long before...
She jumped when her cell phone rang. She stared at it for a second, then snatched it up. "Hello?"
"You know, you really should turn that thing off."
She smiled at the smile she guessed was on his face. "I know, but I like to stay in touch. How are things going back there?"
"Michelle, you're on holidays. Relax. There's nothing going on here that we cant handle. I just wanted to talk to you."
She smiled, biting at her lip. "Really?"
"Yeah, I just missed hearing your voice. Anyway, I'll go and I'll stop bothering you. Oh and Michelle? Turn the damn phone off!"
She laughed. "I will Tony. Bye." She stared at the phone for a moment longer, running the conversation through in her head. He'd missed her, he'd said that. That he'd just wanted to talk to her.
She looked around the café, slowly starting to fill with customers, the sounds of their conversation filling the silence that had surrounded her. She glanced back at the phone and smiled.
Slowly, deliberately, she turned the phone off.
"This is so weird."
"What is?"
"This. Working with you. This whole...." He paused, wiping sweat from his forehead. "This is going to work isn't it? You know what you're doing, right?"
"Of course I know what I'm doing." She lit a cigarette, ignoring the disgusted looks of the people around her. "Everything is set. It'll work just the way we've planned it." She patted her hip pocket. "Everything is going to be fine."
"You think they'll get the message." He jerked his head away from the pale stream of smoke. "You think they'll start taking us seriously?"
"Oh they'll get the message. Sooner or later. Don't you worry about that."
It felt strange to have her phone off. Almost like she'd cut herself off, turned away from the Michelle Dessler she was in LA. It felt good, though. She felt free.
She finished her drink and fumbled in her purse, leaving enough money to cover the drink. She stood, pulling her shades down over her eyes, taking another long look at her now dormant cell phone. She tucked it away in her bag, burying it as deep as she could.
She didn't have to be that Michelle Dessler. She could be anybody she wanted to be.
Swinging her bag by the straps, she walked down the street, singing to herself.
She glanced back over her shoulder at the sound of a powerful engine, shattering the peace and stillness of the main street. Staring into the bright sun, squinting behind her shades, she saw three cars, driving down the street. Three large black powerful cars, the bullet proofed windows seeming to suck the light away. 'Government cars' her brain realised.
The man next to her spat on the ground, his weather stained features twisted with hate. "Bastard." He spat again.
She could see other knots of people gathering on the street, the same expressions of hatred on their worn and tired faces.
She turned to the man next to her. "Excuse me sir, but who is that?" She pointed at the cars.
The man squinted at her, his dark eyes narrowing. "You're not from around here, are you."
"No I'm from LA."
"You a tourist?"
"Yes." She was starting to feel like she had committed a crime, that she should be in a holding cell or an interrogation room.
He pointed after the cars, his hand shaking with anger and his face twisting further with hatred. "That's the Governor. Charles H McGarrity. Comes up here during the summer, pollutes the waters of Pyramid Lake with his lies." He spat on the ground. "Bastard."
Michelle opened her mouth to reply....
....an explosion ripped through the street.
She spun around to see the middle vehicle, burning fiercely, tossed in the air like some child's toy. It landed, almost gracefully, on its back. The following vehicle skidded to a halt next to it. The passenger door flew open and a man jumped out, pulling a pistol from a holster on his hip. He stopped next to the burning car, his eyes scanning the wreckage, looking for some way to safely approach it.
Michelle started to run towards him. "Wait! It's...."
A second explosion tore through both vehicles.