24
The Conspiracy
By moviefreak2004
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of 24 and am using them solely for entertainment purposes.
NOTE: There is no exact place in the 24 timeline where this takes place.
7:00 A.M. – 8:00 A.M.
Laura Milton peeked out from her desk to spy on the new arrivals. Edgar Stiles, who was rumored to be Chloe's personal arch-rival, had just walked through the doors and placed his briefcase on his desk.
She personally didn't like him because of his arrogance towards everyone. Now, when she taught about it, Laura realized that she didn't have any friends at C.T.U. But today was only her first day on the job so she didn't worry about it. Besides, she didn't care if anybody wanted to be her friend. As she long as she was doing her job and she could afford to feed herself and pay her bills, everything was alright.
Oh no, Edgar was walking over to her. She ducked behind her desk and tried to focus on her assignment.
"Laura," he cried rudely.
"Yes, Edgar?" she inquired.
"I can't log in. Are you operating through line 3?"
"Yes," she asked, trying to show him to get to the point.
"We can't both be on at the same time," he said and followed the remark with a professional sigh.
"OK," Laura said. "Then, I'll get off and you can go on."
"That's good. Well, hurry up."
He walked away and Laura was filled with a bitter anger. He treated her like she had been working here for years and had to obey all of his orders. For once, she felt sorry for Chloe, who had probably had to deal with him for several months now.
She reminded herself that she was getting carried off. Back to her assignment...
7: 02
Peter Walker's fear was growing steadily in him. It seemed like everyone was watching him, keeping their eyes on his every act.
There was a screech of an upcoming train but as it passed in front of Walker he realized that, unfortunately, it wasn't his number.
Damn it, it wasn't going to come on time. He had a folder of high government documents hidden in his suitcase; the government reserved the right to kill him for stealing them.
Wait, wait, wait.
Think this over. Nobody's staring at you. Why would they? You're not doing anything suspicious, are you? Now get up and stop your damn sweating. Then, you get on the train and go to the airport.
Paranoid. He was just paranoid. There was no reason to be scared. They were only morning commuters. They didn't bother to take a look around and notice anybody.
Another screech suddenly followed and Peter Walker found himself staring at his train. He cursed in happiness under his breath and felt some of his fear dissipate.
After entering the train, he took an empty seat in the back.
Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all…
7: 02
Ray Harrison glanced up at the clock on his wall. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. He was beginning to get tired of that noise.
His wife, Dana, was sitting across the table, reading a newspaper as she was digging into a bowl of cereal.
Ray was in his mid-30's and fit for his age. A short of dark brown hair ran down to above his eyes.
"Honey?"
"Yes," she warmly acknowledged him and lifted her head up.
"Um, I..."
He could have to make the lie sound convincing in order for her not to get suspicious.
"I, uh, got a couple reports I need to finish up at work. My boss won't really, uh, let me go. I think I'll probably be home later than expected."
Dana sighed loudly and dropped the newspaper.
"Ray," she almost yelled. "This is the second time this week! The kids"
"Look, I know, Dana," he tried to console her. "But this is my job…"
"Ray, you can't just leave them like this. They deserve as much of an explanation as I do. Do you know the look on their faces when you don't come home?"
"I understand but you can't just expect us to have this house or have this food on our table if I don't go."
"Ray…"
He raised his hands to protest whatever she was going to say.
"Ray, I'm not mad at you. I just…I just think you should balance your work life and personal life a little better. Spend a bit more time with them on the weekends. I'll tell them myself. You better be off. You're already running late."
She quickly ushered him out of the house and locked the door. Dana knew her kids were going to be disappointed but she was sure she could buy them some toy or video game to distract them.
Outside, he grinned happily. He loved his wife and children dearly. It was a shame he was going to have to kill them…
7: 06
The man in the black suit was finding the ride extremely uncomfortable. The truck often dipped right into potholes and it would jump. His arm would hit the seat and he would wince in pain.
"Damn it, Red!" he yelled. "Where the hell did you get this ride?"
"Sorry, boss," laughed Red. "Just a couple more minutes now."
"So…um?" Steven Fields inquired. "Where exactly are we going?"
"We have a hideout," answered the man in the black suit. "We'll need to go through each stage of the operation quickly if we want to be successful."
"I believe Walker's already on his way to the airport, sir," Red included.
"That's good. He'll be here at around ten or eleven, right?"
"Yes, sir. You shouldn't worry."
The man in the black suit suddenly laughed and reached out to tap Red's shoulder.
"Heck, Red," he started. "Every man would be worried to fail after working a decade on something."
"You picked a good team, boss. We'll do our best for you."
The man in the black suit believed him.
"Yes, Red. Yes, they will."
The truck continued driving down the highway.
7: 08
Jack Bauer wrapped a fluffy white towel around him as he climbed out of the pool. It had been a pretty cold swim but he had enjoyed every moment of it. He had cleared his head like he had planned to. He walked barefoot to the bar, where he ordered a quick tequila. It went pleasantly down his throat. He ordered another one. He could afford to overload today.
Walking down the beach, Jack spied a volleyball game. There were some kids in there, but most of them were adults.
"Hey!" a voice cried out.
Jack wasn't sure if he was being called.
"Yeah, you!"
It was one of the adult males. Jack noticed his slim figure.
"We need a player!" he cried. "You wanna play?"
Jack glanced around to look for another activity. He shrugged and walked over to the volleyball court.
"Oh no, you're not on my team," the man almost boastfully told Jack.
Jack slid under the net to the other side.
"What's your name?" the man screamed.
Jack lifted his head up and looked him in the eyes.
"Jack Bauer," he said plainly.
"Well, Jack, are you any good?"
Shrugging once again, Jack bent his knees and stood in position, awaiting the ball.
The man, who Jack had already grown to dislike with a passion, backed up a bit. He tossed the ball and it whirled as it sailed up. As it came down, he brought his open hand from behind his shoulder and smashed it. Spinning, it quickly flew over the fence.
Jack kept his eyes on it. He sidestepped, leaped, and smashed the ball with an open fist. It flew back over the net and smashed a crater into the sand.
The man stood in bewilderment.
"Let's see that again, cowboy!" he bellowed as he blasted the ball again.
Jack responded exactly as he had done in the previous play, except this time he managed to pass it along to another opponent, a little girl, who hit it over the net.
As it was falling, the man screamed at his opponents and pushed through them. Luckily for him, he got there in time to hit the ball back.
"Hey, let the kids have a hit!" someone cried. The man didn't bother to listen.
Jack watched as a member of his team dove and bumped the ball up before it hit the sand. Jack, operating on his instinct, followed and hit it over the net.
The man was trying to prove his importance to both Jack and his team. He was crazily jogging around the entire court trying to cover the ball. By now, most of the parents and children on his team had grown agitated.
The wind gave him an extra push and the man barely managed to nail the ball. It cut through the air with a WHOOSH and barely tipped over the net. Jack watched gladly as a little boy no older than ten hit the ball and laughed with happiness.
The man could not believe he was losing. Most of his team had already left the court and were watching from the sidelines. The man's body grazed the sand as he hit the ball. It landed in the net and bounced back into the sand.
Somebody offered Jack a high-five and he gladly accepted.
"Nice job, man!" one of the teenagers said.
The man was fuming now.
"Ok, just me and Jack now."
Eager to see the match, Jack's team stepped off the court and joined the growing crowd of onlookers.
"Show me what you got, Jack!" he shrieked. He pounded the ball with all the force in his fingers. It flew high into the air, pivoted, and began plummeting back to earth.
Jack was breathing heavily now. His legs began moving around quickly. Watching the ball and the shadow on the ground, Jack placed himself directly below it and whacked it back up. The man gasped as he suddenly slipped on the sand and fell. The ball bonked him as he tried to lift his head up and he groaned. The crowd laughed at their former leader, who was spitting sand heavily out of his mouth. When he was done, he shook himself until the sand fell back and locked eyes with Jack.
"I'm not warmed up!" he tried to make an excuse for losing. "Tomorrow, we'll see."
Jack didn't bother to laugh. He kicked the ball into his arms.
"Hey, mister, how about another game?" a boy asked. The crowd nodded their heads behind him.
What the heck, Jack thought. Live life.
7: 11
Shannon Turner was ahead of schedule and pleased. She checked her watch. Good. She had expected to finish twenty minutes later. Loading the groceries into the car, Shannon observed the early morning activity. Shops were only beginning to open at this time of morning. Shannon breathed in the fresh morning air and was at ease. There was no time to rest, however. She slipped into her car and twisted the key into the engine.
7: 15
Thomas Turner's eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at the light blue ceiling. Awake. He was awake. He slowly rolled over onto his chest and stretched his head. Pulling his blankets off, he stood up and yawned loudly. It echoed throughout the house.
He quietly tiptoed out of his room. As he was about to proceed down the stairs to the first floor, he remembered to do something. Stealthily, he sneaked to his sister's room. Grasping the doorknob, he slowly pulled it over. It creaked ever so slightly but he doubted that she would awaken. She was asleep and looking pretty peaceful at that. She wouldn't wake up.
He almost crawled down the stairs, trying to sense if his mother had left. Hearing no footsteps or sounds, he entered the kitchen. Empty. She had left him and his sister a couple sandwiches. He guessed that she had predicted that he would wake up much later. He grinned. She didn't know anything about him.
After munching down the sandwich, he brought over a chair to be able to reach the top cabinet of his kitchen, where all the snacks were hidden. Seconds later, he had perfectly laid out several bags of potato chips, pretzels, cookies, and popcorn.
He licked his tongue rapidly around his lips, wondering what he should eat first. He decided on the popcorn and placed it carefully in the microwave. When it was done, he spilled it into a large bowl, flipped on his TV, sank onto the comfortable couch, and started watching cartoons.
Ha ha. Now neither his sister nor his mother could possibly stop him.
7: 18
The pickup truck swerved into an exit. Steven Fields had begun feeling sick in the last half hour. He had never had a chance to start a family or have kids. Was he really going to end his life today for this purpose? He thought that he had understood it perfectly. He still despised the world and its people. But was this the way to express his feelings, to make his voice heard? He decided to let it go and wait for the truck to arrive. He wasn't even sure himself exactly what role he would part in today's events.
The truck pulled up to a small building consisting of two floors. A man standing guard outside nodded to Red as he pulled into the small parking lot under the building.
Fields glanced over to the man in the black suit. Now that he thought about it, he remembered that he had never actually asked him what his name was. Now was not the time for introductions, however. But he would definitely ask later.
The car suddenly stopped. It was time.
Red bounced out of the car, shutting the door with a bang. He opened the back door and the man in the black suit stepped out.
"Thank you, Red," he warmly said.
Fields followed Red and the man in the black suit as they crossed over to a door. Red reached out and pushed it forward while the man stepped through. Fields looked up. Two floors of stairs.
As they were making their way up, the man in the black suit suddenly spoke: "Steven, you get off here at the first floor. I'll get Red set up on the second and then I'll report to you for your assignment. This will be our base of operations for today. Understood?"
Steven gulped and nodded. He pushed through the door. He was not quite sure of what to make of this room. On one corner, there was a small laboratory station. On the other, several cardboard boxes, many of them ripped, were stacked against the wall. The rest of the room was empty. It was a big room, though; anything could take place in here.
7: 23
Pierre Bedeau adjusted his tie, humming under his breath. He tugged on it several times to make sure it was secure and decided that he was done. He looked into the mirror in front of him and what he saw differed from what he had seen yesterday. Yesterday, there had been a shaky, nervous man who had been unable to do anything or meet anyone without shyness and regret. Today, for once in his life, Pierre Bedeau was sure of himself. He was confident. However, nothing had pleased him more than the feeling of worthiness, knowing that somewhere in the world someone was depending on him and only him. He had been lucky enough to receive this opportunity of a lifetime. Now, he had to act out on it, fulfill his part of the deal. The man in the mirror today looked five years younger than he was. A big, happy smile was on his face. Pierre reached down and his fingers curled around the handle of his briefcase. He lifted it up and was about to leave the bathroom when he felt one last urge to take a look at the man in the mirror. But no, he told himself, enough was enough. You'll be late if you don't leave immediately. Do you understand that, Pierre? Do you? As he left his house, he felt a need to smile at everyone and everything. He was in pure ecstasy and he knew it would be a short time before it would fade away. Straighten up, make sure you're comfortable, and complete your objective, Bedeau. Yes. Yes. Do not let them down.
7: 24
C.T.U. Lead Agent of Operations Louis Powers had returned from another undercover drug bust and had brought several infamous drug dealers with him. Laura Milton watched from behind her desk as Powers carried two of the screaming criminals into the interrogation rooms.
He didn't even seem to notice their cries, which consisted mainly of the predictable "I want my lawyer" or "I'm gonna sue you to the ground!". Powers was emotionless as he dragged them along. He was the best of the best.When they were safely tucked away, Powers emerged.
He looked around the entire complex with interest.
"Agent Powers, do you need help?" Laura offered.
He looked over to her with a puzzled look.
"No, just haven't…ever had the time to really examine this place," he answered.
He began walking away but then abruptly stopped, turned back, and walked over to her desk.
"Say, are you new here?" he asked.
"Yeah, why?" she answered, a small grin emerging on her face.
"I'm just wondering. Rumor has it that you're going to replace Edgar as soon as he gets fired."
Laura was shocked and surprised at Powers' remark.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Powers confirmed it. "Edgar hasn't been doing such a great job lately. It seems he can't do more than one job at a time. In a time of crisis, we need a kind of person who can."
Laura didn't know what to think. She was sure Powers wasn't lying; he was trusted by almost everyone by C.T.U. But how would Edgar take it? She did find him annoying and wished he wasn't always bugging her about everything. But somehow, she taught that he would blame her if he lost his job. He always considered himself better than any desk agent in C.T.U. He was far from that but he certainly possessed many skills that had helped C.T.U. in the past.
"So…um…who are you again?" he asked with a grin.
"Milton…Laura Milton," she replied as she shook his outstretched hand.
"Powers…Louis Powers," he told her without her asking. She didn't mind.
"I know. I've heard much about you," she said.
"Well, it's been nice talking to you. I probably have to go. The end of one assignment always means the beginning of another. Talk to you later."
As he was jogging to the exit, an agent handed him a folder. After peeking inside, Powers nodded to the other agent and was soon out the door.
7: 26
Jack Bauer, after an exhausting game of volleyball, had gone to the bar to wash away his dry thirst with a beer. Sitting on a stool, he noticed the player he had embarrassed earlier coming towards him and he immediately turned away. Too late…
"That was some game today, buddy," the man said as he sat down. He turned to the bartender. "Beer."
Jack sipped a bit and turned to face him.
"Where'd you learn to play like that?" the man asked.
Jack shrugged.
"No, seriously?" the man continued, almost as if he thought Jack was hiding something from him.
"Honestly. I've barely played before," Jack responded.
"Ok. Ok. Be that way. I understand."
The bartender handed him the beer. He didn't bother to thank him.
"You married?" the man asked.
Jack laughed. Why was this guy trying to dig up his past? What did this have to do with volleyball?
"Used to be. She was killed," he said, trying to scare the man away. But he didn't even flinch. He thought it was a joke.
"My, my, my, you're just full of surprises. Next thing you're going to tell me is that you're some kind of secret agent who's saved the world a couple of times, right?"
Jack stifled a laugh.
"Nah," Jack said. He wasn't allowed to talk much about C.T.U. at all.
"I'm a real estate agent," the man said.
"I didn't ask," Jack replied.
The man was surprised by the rude remark. He was about to say something, probably an insult, but then turned away.
"Well, it was nice talking to you, Jack," he cried as he walked away with the beer in his hand.
Jack looked down at his glass. It was empty. Had he really drank it all? He raised his hand to signal the bartender.
"One more," Jack croaked when the bartender arrived.
7: 30
Louis Powers drove the car carefully into the courtyard of the mansion. He looked at his watch and realized he was ahead of schedule. It looked like he would have to wait an extra five minutes. Oh well. It was always better to be early than late.
7: 33
Head of F.B.I. Operations Specialist Andrew Carter buttoned up his expensive one-of-a-kind suit. It had been cleaned only a few hours ago and it was fitting for today. Today, hopefully, the entire slate would be wiped clean. Carter would present his speech on crime enforcement today and attempt to explain all of the recent rumors of corruption and murder inside the F.B.I. Carter believed in the men and women who worked for him and he couldn't stand watching them being lied about by the media. Clearing his throat, he looked in the mirror.
"That's it, Andy. Last chance to do anything," he said to himself. Nothing came to mind.
Wiping his face once again, Carter began the walk down to the front door.
7: 35
Carter opened the door and climbed into the luxury car. It was definitely fit for him. Comfortable, warm but not hot, and, of course, bullet-proof.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Carter," the agent said to him and offered his hand. "I'm Louis Powers. I've been assigned to make sure you're comfortable and safe for the ride there and back."
"C.T.U.?" Carter inquired as he shook Powers' hand.
"Yes, sir. We're working with the F.B.I. as well."
"Good. Then, I know I can trust you."
Powers grinned as he started the car engine up.
"Where to?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, the speech is not for another hour. I was thinking maybe we could stop for a quick bite to eat somewhere if possible."
"Anything's possible, sir. A quick bite it is," Powers responded to the request.
Gripping the seat and looking behind him, Powers slowly backed the car out of the courtyard and out of the open gates onto the street. Quickly twisting the wheel, Powers moved the wheels and the car was off.
He never noticed the small car parked on the street. The car that, suddenly, became alive with an engine roar and started following them…
7: 39
Shannon Turner drove her car into the parking lot of the shoe store. It hadn't been part of her schedule but she decided that she had to at least do something with her extra time. After all, her kids were sleeping.
She browsed the aisles, occasionally picking up a shoe case and examining the footwear inside. She sighed. Every pair either didn't fit her tastes or was simply too overpriced for her budget.
She still had half an hour of free time when she emerged out of the store. Hmm, a good meal would certainly get the rumbling in her stomach to stop. It seemed that in her quick haste to prepare sandwiches for her children, she had completely forgotten to feed herself.
In less than five minutes, Shannon was back out on the main road, heading towards a local coffee shop.
7: 44
Jack Bauer had watched the crowd as they had gotten bored and left the volleyball court. Had he really brought fun into their lives? The only thing he had brought into everybody's hearts in the past couple months was misery and sadness. Whenever Jack tried to forget his past, it always somehow caught up with him.
"Damn it!" Jack cried out suddenly. A mother leaned down to say something to her boy and then dragged him away from Jack, as if he was some sort of bad influence.
Jack walked over to the main desk, where he asked if there were any new emails or phone messages for him.
The plump attendant looked over at him.
"Nope, sorry, Mr. Bauer."
Jack rested his arm against the desk. Was it possible that he had been forgotten? No, of course not. You wanted to be in peace. And that is precisely what you got. No one's interrupting you with their problems. This is your vacation. Stop checking for new messages every hour and go enjoy yourself.
The voices in his head were arguing again.
Jack proceeded back onto the beach. He settled into a comfortable beach chair and revealed a mystery novel he had picked up before leaving. Maybe this would help him relax…
7: 47
Laura Milton knew that she had warmed up. She was handling all of her tasks quickly and efficiently, without even a single urge to call out to Chloe for assistance. By nine o'clock, C.T.U. would be in full swing. Maybe if she completed her tasks ahead of time now, she wouldn't have as much work later on in the day when she usually got tired. And...
Wait a minute.
A window had popped up on her computer screen. It asked her to enter her username and password. But she had just been logged in a minute ago. Well, she didn't mind logging in again.
Her fingers raced around the keyboard. When she was done, she clicked the OK button. A big popup message was unveiled:
ACCESS DENIED.
What? What the hell was happening?
She typed in her username and password again. She knew it was correct. She has selected it personally.
She pressed Enter.
ACCESS DENIED.
Grumbling, Laura stood up to call Chloe to her rescue.
7: 52
"Coffee and a treat?" Powers asked as he stopped his car in front of the coffee shop.
"Sounds fabulous," replied Carter. He was nearing sixty, Powers now, and was one of the most experienced agents in any agency. With his assistance, hundreds of murderers had been put in jail.
They entered the shop together. Powers' eyes immediately darted around the small café, checking for anything out of place. Seeing anything, he ordered two cappuccinos and a Danish.
They sat a table and Carter started talking.
"How long have you been in the business, Mr. Powers?" he asked inquisitively.
"Um…I'd say a good seven years," Powers answered.
"It gets tough, right?"
"Sometimes. But I expected it to be this way."
"Yeah, same here. Sometimes, I almost want to quit. But if I don't do it, who will?"
Powers completely agreed. He nodded his head.
"If you don't mind me asking," Carter started. When he saw Powers nod again, he continued, "Are you married?"
"Nah."
"Oh. Dating?"
"Nah…but there's this one girl I like."
"Really? Tell me about her."
Powers shied away but then decided to reveal his secrets. He had to, of course, make his target feel comfortable.
"Her name's Laura Milton. She works at C.T.U. A desk job."
"Not bad, not bad at all. Is she prettyl?"
"Yeah, very," Powers answered, unsure now why he was revealing his personal info to Carter.
"Well, good luck with that," Carter finished.
They both smiled and continued drinking.
7: 55
Pierre Bedeau parked his small car right behind Powers'. As he walked into the café carrying the briefcase, he felt himself at ease. Nothing could stop him. He was invincible His eyes darted around the small room. Carter and Powers were seated at a table in the middle of room. Bedeau casually walked over to their table. Powers' eyes quickly noticed him while Carter took a bit more time.
Powers noticed the suitcase and his eyes filled with cold fear. But there wasn't enough time. Pierre put the suitcase on the table and opened it.
7: 58
Shannon Turner witnessed the explosion from several yards away. Shattered glass flew in all directions. The roof sign collapsed onto the ground, breaking off into two pieces. Cries filled the empty air.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my Good," a crying woman near Shannon shrieked.
People lit on fire were crawling out of the café but she knew there was no chance they would survive. The entire place was burning.
"Don't go close. Somebody call an ambulance," a man screamed.
He was cradling his child's head in his shirt. Reality set into Shannon.
This was actually happening.
She felt a wave of nausea coming on and tried to breathe. A faint smell of burning flesh filled her nose. And she fainted, falling silently to the ground.
Nobody could help her. Everyone was paying attention to the destruction.
7: 59
The man in the black suit dialed a number on his cell phone. He didn't receive any answer. Turning to Red smiling, he said, "Pierre's not responding. He's done his part of the mission successfully."
Red suddenly laughed. The man in the black suit joined along.
Moments later, the man in the black suit had used the stairs to get to the lower floor. Walking into the room, he saw Steven Fields leaning against a wall. He looked incredibly nervous.
"Steven?"
"Yes, sir?" Steven responded.
"You must listen very carefully to what I tell you. This is what you must do…"