Authors Note: First of all, sorry this chapter was a) so long coming and b) just so long in general. It was a difficult chapter to write as I'm trying to throw some of my first little twists into the mix to try and pep things up as well as introducing a fairly large splodge of exposition to clarify some points that I felt needed a little explaining (like START IV). Also to Monkeydude, I understand your concern, really I do. I did think long and hard about what devices I could use for this story, but an assassination just works so well. Season One was actually a little pedestrian in that it didn't really look into the political ramifications the assassination of the first real black candidate for American President would have. I wanted an event that could occur within relatively short time frame, and have profound affects on the whole world. An assassination of prominent figure fit the bill quite nicely. Don't worry though. I'm hoping this story won't retread much of the ground covered in Season One. There'll certainly be no 'it's all just revenge' story motifs, that much I can promise you. Anyway, thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far. You're really keeping me going on this one and I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter. By the way, yes I know the codename's a little corny but it's the best I could think of. Please accept my apologies. I promise I won't be using it too much : )
CHAPTER FOUR: CONFRONTATIONS
New York: 4:20pmIt always surprised Keeler just how vibrant the press core became the moment he stepped up to the microphone. It was as if the entire room suffered from some bizarre split personality disorder, one that was triggered by even the smallest sighting of him. One minute they were perfectly normal people, quiet and disciplined in their seats, some waiting patiently, others with their heads down taking notes. The next they were on their feet, shouting and vying desperately for his attention, their calm organised façade supplanted by one of desperate yet rehearsed chaos.
Right now, that chaos was reaching an almost feverish level of excitement. The relatively small conference room was a relative hive of activity as his press secretary took a couple of questions from a few select reporters, attempting to steer the direction of the questions in a way that would best serve his upcoming announcement.
Keeler could feel the exhaustion sweeping over him as he watched them all, from just around the corner, his presence carefully concealed from the press core. So much work had gone in to today. It had taken a year's worth of effort and careful diplomacy conducted by both America and Russia to bring about START IV, a year of blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice that had finally brought them to this day. Now all he wanted to do was sleep. Just as a well-deserved rest was within his grasp however, his efforts would now have to triple. This threat of assassination was a worrying development. How could the CIA have dropped the ball so badly! The potential ramifications were the attempt successful caused a cold shiver to run down his spine. He couldn't let it happen.
Up at the podium his press secretary was wrapping up the first round of questions, prepping the podium for his arrival. Keeler took a deep breath, exhaling it with a long drawn out sigh. He flexed his fingers and shook his arms limply in the odd little warm up ritual he used to perform before High School football games. Strangely enough it still relaxed him even to this day.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States." Said the press secretary, stepping back in a great show of yielding the floor. Keeler could put it off no longer. He strode into the room, shoulders held squarely back, spine straight, jaw held firm. It was a decidedly presidential walk, the kind no one beyond politicians and stage performers ever felt the need to master. He stepped up to the podium, doing his best not to wince at the sudden barrage of light and sound from a hundred flash bulbs and whirring camera shutters all launching into action at his appearance.
"Okay then folks, as I'm sure you all know by now, I'm a little busy today making the world safe for democracy…" the joke was bad but it had the desired effect. A low chuckle ran through the gathered reporters, easing the atmosphere considerably. "So if we could just this show on the road, I'd be very grateful." Barely before the last words were out of his mouth, the room erupted in a garbled mess of voices, each one struggling to make itself heard above the others. Keeler took it all in his stride as best he could. His nod of acknowledgement to a middle aged man toward the back of the room silenced the rowdy crowd of reporters in an instant.
"Go ahead Andy." He said, his voice now carrying the stern authority of the President.
"Mr President, your foreign policy has been criticised in the past for its practical non existence. Does the START IV treaty mark a turnaround for your administration's previously guarded stance on such issues as America's role in the Middle East and self sufficiency motivated trade practices?"
"Well," Keeler began, placing both of his hands on either side of the podium and leaning forward in what was to all intents and purposes the most earnest posture anyone could adopt, "I'm sure you all understand my desire to keep America safe. As Commander and Chief it is my duty to defend this country by any means I possess. In the past my administration has worked on securing America's own infrastructure. After all, keeping our great nation strong at home as well as abroad is of paramount importance to our nations continued defence. Now that we have succeeded in those goals, we have shifted our focus to ensuring the safety of our great nation overseas. START IV is the result of this." When it became obvious that no more was forthcoming, the room exploded with voices again. Keeler did his best to ignore the racket, instead focusing on a young plump woman in the second row.
"Janet." He said with a nod. The room fell silent once more as the woman asked her question.
"What is your response Mr President, to those accusing your stance on the START IV treaty as being a total misinterpretation of the current needs for America's foreign policy." A sly grin spread across Keeler's face as the woman stared levelly at him.
"No need to be so diplomatic about it Janet." He said a little too evenly. "We're all well aware of the many articles circulating in the popular press that are accusing me of cowardice by backing START IV. They say I'm playing games with the public, that I'm hiding from the real issues facing America's foreign policy." He lifted his head, no longer speaking solely to Janet, but now instead to the entire room.
"I would in turn remind you all of the threat posed to world peace and stability by the widespread proliferation of nuclear weapons, something that previous administrations foreign policies have been decidedly reticent to tackle. START IV will rectify this problem. It is by far the greatest step toward worldwide nuclear disarmament since the beginning of the START programme."
"If the START IV treaty is such a huge leap forward then why have we heard so little in regards to the specifics? Surely with the signing just hours away the American public deserves to know just what the President is preparing to sign on their behalf." Keeler recognised the voice as belonging to Brian Walker, a particularly irritating political correspondent for the New York Times who fancied himself to be the 'next big thing'.
"The answer is quite simple Brian." He replied almost a touch too condescendingly. "START IV is a considerably more complex peace legislation than its predecessors. As I'm sure you are aware, India and Pakistan have also committed to a reduction in their nuclear arms stockpile, a commendable show of goodwill on both their parts that will significantly benefit both regional and worldwide stability. However, agreeable levels of reduction have only just been finalised in last minute talks and…" before he had chance to finish however he caught sight of Eric Willis, his Chief of Staff motioning emphatically to him from the back of the room. A slow frown spread across his features.
"…If you'll excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I am needed else where. My Press Secretary will handle any further questions. I wish you all good evening and I dare say I'll see you all at the dinner later tonight." With that he stepped down from the podium under a fresh salvo of flashing light and desperately shouted questions.
"This had better be good Eric." He said, not even trying to hide his frustration as his Chief of Staff fell into stride along side him. "I was just warming up in there. Another couple of questions and they'd have been eating out of my hand and singing my praises from roof to roof."
"I'm sorry Mr President, but its Sikes." At the mention of the CIA director's name, Keeler drew to a sudden halt. He glanced conspiratorially from side to side before leaning in close.
"Is this about the threat." He said, his voice practically a whisper. Eric nodded gravely.
"Sikes wants permission to bring Doomsday on board with this one." At the mention of the codename, Keeler felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd never even met the man but the mere idea of someone like that working for the US government was more disturbing than he could put to words. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. He could feel a migraine coming on.
"I thought he was doing the ground work in New Dehli." He said. "Even if I was to give authorisation, he'd never be back here in time."
"Sikes has him on a plane bound for JFK already. All he needs is a green light from you for an operation on US soil." Keeler gave a troubled groan as he pinched his nose even harder.
"I had a horrible feeling you were going to say something like that." He muttered. "Does Sikes think really think he can be of use in this?"
"I don't think he'd be asking if he didn't sir." Keeler gave another deeper groan.
"Alright." He said finally. "Tell Sikes that he has my authorisation, but if that man gets up to his usual…" Eric gave a rapid nod of understanding.
"I understand perfectly sir. I'll let him know right away."
New York CTU Branch: 4:35pmKim's fingers tapped an uneven rhythm on the keyboard in front of her as she scanned the CIA documents that had been sent to her network partition. The face of a bearded Asian man stared back at her, his dark eyes burning with the fire of one possessed of his convictions. Technically speaking, she didn't have the security clearance to view these files or that man's face, at least not at present. It seemed that in the light of this developing crisis however, her data skills were being called into use decidedly early, not that she was complaining mind you. For the past week or so, she'd had little to do beyond hand holding some of the newer techs and the babysitting was becoming tiresome.
She leaned back in her seat, giving a long tired yawn as she did so, her arms stretching back over her head in a taught arc.
"Needing a little downtime?" the voice came from the door to her pokey little corner office. She gave a shrug as she turned to face the speaker. He was fairly tall although not excessively so, with a mop of sleek dark hair and decidedly grizzled features. One of his cheeks was badly scarred from burns he'd received to his face while his nose bent ever so slightly off centre, obviously as a result of a previous break. Nevertheless he managed to retain a strange kind of allure that had half the younger female office staff swooning over him whenever he was within ten feet of them.
Kim just didn't trust him.
"Not really, but a little privacy wouldn't go amiss." She said. Rob Cohen, the field ops director of CTU clapped a hand to his heart and began to act as if he were wounded, stumbling weak kneed into the office with a theatrical flourish.
"The agony! The acid tongued wit! How much more must I endure!?" He said in his best mock Shakespearean tones. Kim rolled her eyes at him as she span back to the keyboard.
"What are you doing here anyway?" she said. "I heard you were working undercover." She felt her chair creak under his weight as he leant against it.
"The Iron Maiden recalled me." He said with a touch of irritation. It was no secret around the office that there was little love lost between Elizabeth and Cohen. Elizabeth didn't like the way Cohen ran field ops, an area whose understanding she prided herself on thanks to her background in SWAT. Cohen similarly didn't respect her for precisely the same reason, having come from a background in the military, his most recent tour having been as a member of the Delta Force. He also had a problem with her temperament, her relatively short fuse being something he often cited as a recipe for disaster in the field. Kim sometimes found herself wondering what he would make of her dad.
"I take it from what's on your screen that the recall was for more than just tea and biscuits." He said, his interest audibly growing as he studied the screen from over her shoulder. The chair creaked again as he leaned forward for a better look. Kim reached up and flicked the monitor's power switch.
"Sorry." she said turning to face the bemused expression that was spreading across his face, "but I'm not supposed to let you see the file." He let go of the chair and took a step back, his arms folding securely across his chest.
"Any particular reason?" he said, the familiarity draining from his voice altogether. Kim felt a little more comfortable with that. Keep things professional, detached, it was the best way to get by in a job like this.
"You of all people should know the drill by now Cohen." She said with an exasperated sigh. "The file isn't cleared for your security level yet." Cohen frowned at her, his brow creasing darkly.
"Remind me again Kim, just which of us do you think has the higher clearance?" he said leaning in close, his eyes filled with barely restrained anger. "I mean last time I checked I was in charge of field ops and you… Well, you're just a tech to put it bluntly, and not even the best on staff. You just have a lot of connections is all…" Kim's eyes narrowed.
"Remind me again Rob," she said, emphasising his first name "just who you think we both work for? Elizabeth ordered me to prep this file for a briefing in ten minutes. She didn't order me to make its contents public knowledge! You want to know what's inside? You wait for the brief like everybody else." Cohen leaned back again, but the furious scowl didn't leave his face.
"Have you any idea how much work may have just gone up in smoke because of this?" he said. "I could lose the last six months all because of that frigid witch out there, and now I'm just expected to sit tight and wait for the briefing?" Kim gave a shrug.
"I'm sorry about that, but it really isn't my call to make, and you know it." Cohen began to turn to leave, shaking his head as he did so.
"Whatever Kim." He said. "It happens every time. Liz is just cutting me out of the loop yet again." Just before he reached the door, Greg burst in, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"You two really need to see this!" he said, his voice bursting with energy. Cohen threw him a questioning glance.
"Why?" he said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "What's going on?" Greg grinned.
"It's Liz…" he began, but before he could finish the head of CTU's colourful language began to drift in through the open office door.
"What the fuck is all this about!?" Kim and Cohen rolled their eyes at one another and made a beeline for the balcony outside, Greg in hot pursuit. Elizabeth was stood in the centre of the office space surrounded by goggle eyed techs, hands on her hips and glaring furiously at three men who had just entered the building. The three men were stood with their backs to Kim in a rough triangle formation. The lead stranger was speaking to Elizabeth in a low even tone that reeked of self importance.
"Miss Hudson," he was saying "I'm here under the authority of CIA director Sikes to act as a liaison between our agencies over this matter."
"Oh no you don't!" she snapped sharply at him as he finished speaking. "I know your type! You say liaison but what you really mean is supervisor! Well let me tell you something. You don't just waltz in here with barely a word of warning and think that you can take over my goddamn unit!" Kim could feel a frown spreading across her face. She glanced at Cohen.
"What's going on? Why are CIA here?" she asked. Cohen gave a vague shrug.
"Not sure, but it looks like they want us on a leash. I'm guessing it's something to do with that file you were prepping. Of course I couldn't know for certain without being able to take a decent look at it." Kim gave a groan of frustration. At times Cohen could be like a dog with a bone. Once he had his teeth into something he never let go.
"It's something to do with START IV isn't it Kim?" Greg piped up, his face lit with a delighted grin at his guess work. Kim shot him a sideways glance that immediately wilted his enthusiasm. It was the kind of warning look she'd come to learn worked surprisingly well on him.
"Err… I mean it has to be, what with the signing and everything…" his voice trailed off as he looked away, completely unable to meet her eyes.
"Makes sense." Cohen nodded in agreement.
Kim's mind was racing. START IV, the Indian Prime Minister, and an assassination plot. How did she keep getting into these situations! Her whole life this past few years was beginning to resemble a bad Tom Clancy novel!
Her thoughts trailed off rapidly as one of the men turned his head slightly his gaze taking in the entire office, before craning his neck to look along the balcony. Finally his gaze settled on her.
Kim felt her mouth go bone dry as those familiar eyes met her own. From where he stood flanking the CIA agent, Tony flashed her an apologetic smile.
