Chapter Seven
"CTU, Almeida."
"Tony, I think I got something here."
"Send it to my screen, Chloe." Tony cycled through the security camera footage. "Shit. When was this taken? Where?"
"LA Central Station, a couple of hours ago." Chloe hesitated for a second. "It's him isn't it? He's here already, and we missed our chance to stop him before…"
Tony cut her off before her panic could seize control of her. "Chloe, calm down." He waited until she fell silent. "See if you can enhance the picture and send it over to Tom and Nathan."
"The picture quality's not going to be very good and I'm going to have to go through all the camera angles until I can find a better quality picture…."
"How long Chloe?"
"Fifteen, twenty minutes. Maybe a little longer to get a usable image."
"Just send it when you can, Chloe okay. Thank you." He broke the connection and dialled quickly.
"Gault."
"Nathan, its Tony…"
xxxXXXxxx
"…in LA."
"When?"
"He arrived at Central Station a couple of hours ago. I got Chloe working on it at the minute. We should have an image for you within the next thirty minutes or so."
"Okay." Nathan hung up, shaking his head. "Shit."
"He's in LA, isn't he?"
"Yeah. Security cameras picked him up in Central Station."
Tom nodded, his eyes hard and flat. Looking around the dim interior of the car. "This changes nothing Amy. We knew there was a threat against you anyway. All this does is confirm it."
Nathan nodded in agreement, trying to reassure her. "At least we know who we're dealing with."
xxxXXXxxx
She played the conversation through in her head again. Making sure that she knew what she was going to say, knew how she was going to play things. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
She drummed her fingers on the desk while she listened to the phone ring. At least while she was talking to Natasha, she could put off talking to Tony for a little while longer.
"Natasha Grey's office, can I help you?"
"Michelle Dessler for Natasha Grey."
"One moment please."
She heard a couple of clicks, then Natasha's familiar voice. "Hello Michelle."
"Good afternoon, Natasha." Michelle forced a useless smile, grateful that at least she wouldn't have to lie to Natasha's face. Shouldn't CTU be above all that shit? Weren't they all supposed to be on the same side?
"I've spoken with Brad Hammond, Michelle. I think we've found some room in our budget."
"So I might actually be able to hire some more personnel down here?"
"Yeah. If you can put your proposals together and forward them to me, I'll put things in motion at this end. What about the investigation into the Rights of the Child?"
She slipped the question in, so quickly, so easily that Michelle almost missed it.
But she had her answer prepared and ready. "We ran down every lead. There's no connection between Rights of the Child and any known terrorist group."
She had to slip that word in, just for the sake of her own conscience.
"Thank you Michelle. If you get those proposals to me as soon as you can, I'll get things started at this end."
"Thanks Natasha." Michelle hung up, staring thoughtfully at the phone. Even down the phone line, there had been no mistaking the relief in Natasha's voice when she had learnt that the investigation had finished. Someone was putting pressure on her.
Natasha Grey was getting squeezed and not by Brad Hammond.
xxxXXXxxx
"Ashley, my dear." The kindly faced woman at the door smiled sadly at her, reaching out to take one of her hands between both of hers. "You'll be in all of our prayers tonight. It is a very brave thing that you're doing."
Ashley slid her hand out of the woman's grasp, managing to smile uncomfortably at her. "Is the Reverend here yet?" She peered past the woman, trying to see if she could find Jackson Alexander's bulky form.
"He is." The woman put her hand on the small of Ashley's back, guiding her into the room. "He's been expecting you." She smiled sadly at Ashley as she walked past her. "God bless you, child."
She heard the same prayer echoed by other voices, the sound breaking around her like a disconcerting wave.
The room was full.
She recognised some of them as people who had attended her prayer group, people who had been through the same thing as she 'had.' Many of them paused to smile at her, to stare at her, as if to fix her in their minds. Some of the ones she didn't recognise stared at her as well.
She shivered under their scrutiny, despite the sweat breaking on her forehead.
Did they know?
The Reverend Jackson Alexander appeared on the stage. A small swell of applause rippled through the crowd, gradually spreading through the entire room. Alexander stepped back from the lectern, spreading his arms wide, basking in their faith.
He would lead them to war.
He would lead them to victory.
Jackson Alexander stepped back to the microphone, accompanied by a shrill blast of feedback. Instantly, silence fell. He looked around swiftly, then bowed his head in prayer, the movement copied by everyone around Ashley. Hastily she bowed her head, peering up through half closed eye lids as his rich dark voice began the prayer, rolling across the room
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God…."
xxxXXXxxx
"Good afternoon, folks, its just coming up to 130pm. It's another beautiful day outside and temperatures are expected to soar later in the week. So it's only gonna get hotter."
I'll be right back after these messages, with a classic track and news of huge gig that's gonna be taking place right here in LA. So keep it locked onto CSRFM."
xxxXXXxxx
"…said that the intel failed to turn up any leads." Natasha became aware that she was babbling and forced herself to stop, to think. She couldn't afford to allow herself to seem to be too vulnerable, too weak. Otherwise she would be useless to Michael Jarode.
"That's good news, Natasha. Thank you."
"I'm glad that I could finally help you, Mr Jarode."
"I do not forget my friends or my allies, Natasha. I'm hoping that you and Michelle Dessler will continue to extend me the same courtesy."
xxxXXXxxx
"I just wanted to wish you all the best, Amy." He smiled, clutching her hand tightly, despite her best efforts to pull away. "You're just what we need in the Senate."
"Thank you, sir." Amy smiled back at him, finally managing to slip her hand free. "I hope I can rely on you and your support to get me there." She laughed and after a moments hesitation, the man laughed along with her. "Good to see you, thank you for coming."
She walked away, instantly conscious of Nathan at her elbow. She glanced over her shoulder, at his grim face. "You okay?"
His mouth twitched, almost drawn into a smile. "I think I'm supposed to be asking you that question."
She stiffened, suddenly aware of the press of people around her, mindful of what had happened earlier. She took a step closer to him. "Is he here?"
"I don't know."
xxxXXXxxx
He was getting closer.
Tom could feel him. Feel his eyes, searching for Amy, searching for a weakness, for a way to get to her. He wished he had cancelled this as well, she was too exposed, too vulnerable. A lunch like this could hide a killer as easily as an early morning walk about. But Peterson had argued….
He looked up, almost certain he would see her fall, her body riddled with bullets, another notch on this bastard's gun.
Nathan was with her, his eyes searching the crowd, keeping his body between her and any danger that might be out there
Tom took a deep breath, forcing air into lungs that had been starved of oxygen. Forcing himself to calm down, to think. He was no good to CTU, to Nathan, or to Amy if he was panicking. That was how this bastard worked, getting everybody so tense, so tied in knots that they made a mistake, and let him in.
There would be no mistake.
Tom stared at the picture on the PDA and started another circuit of the room.
xxxXXXxxx
These guys were good.
He laughed uproariously at an unfunny joke, staring across the room at Amy Gardner. One man with her at all times, the others circling the room.
A break from their usual tactics.
They were looking for him. This was starting to turn from a challenge into a complication.
He thought briefly about doing her, there and then. He could probably escape in the confusion. But there was that…element of doubt, of danger in that plan. Her guards were expecting him, expecting him to try something like that.
He slipped away from the conversation, disappearing like a grey ghost.
He knew what he was going to do. All he needed was time to prepare.
xxxXXXxxx
He stopped on the mezzanine floor and knocked on her door.
"Come in Tony."
He walked into Michelle's office, taking care to shut the door after him.
"What's wrong?"
He laughed softly, bitterly. "What's wrong? I want to know what's wrong with you, Michelle. You've been distracted all day, and I know you've been sick at least once."
Michelle looked away from him. "I told you I'm okay. I just had the squid last night, and you know how it always makes me feel…"
"I know you didn't have squid last night." Tony walked around the desk, forcing her to look at him. "So what's going on?"
Caught. At last. She felt strangely relieved.
"I'm pregnant, Tony."
xxxXXXxxx
She felt the crowd press in around them, their shouts and insults ringing in her ears. His arm around her, sheltering her from the worst of their missiles.
Pieces of rotten fruit landed on her face, the remnants of a missile that had landed on his shoulder.
Then the doors of the clinic slammed shut behind them, cutting them off from the noise and chaos outside. A nurse came forward, putting an arm around her shoulders, helping her to a seat.
They were inside the clinic.
Now what?
