d1+ some hours

d3: − 4 years, 6 months

Some hours past midnight…

Part I: Interrogations

"Hey!"

His hand slammed down on the table in front of her and Nina opened her eyes, jerking her head up. She had to have closed them for a moment...

She sat up straight and rolled her shoulders back, trying to find something to focus on. Exhaustion was finally catching up with her.

While the guy kept yelling at her, sitting on the edge of the table now, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath and smell the coffee he had probably been drinking before coming in, she wondered what time it could be. Five? Six? Or later? She had no idea. How long had she been here?

When they had dragged her through the CTU corridors, she had caught sight of a clock. Four minutes past midnight. They had been in a hurry to get her out of there, and she was sure she knew why. He found her.

But he hadn't come after her or at least not caught up with her in time. She wondered if he had tried. If they had stopped him. Not that anyone would have cared about what Jack did to her. Maybe Tony. And Mason. Masonwould never have let him come near her. Not that he cared much either but things had to go by the book. Some things could be counted on.

But sitting in the van, waiting for them to get going, she had worried anyway. She knew how hard it was to stop Jack once he made up his mind. And he had probably made up his mind to go after her. He had already wanted to kill her when he had just thought she had betrayed him. She had no illusions about what he was going to do to her now. What he wanted to do anyway. She had counted the minutes. How long would it take him? He would be too shocked and shaken at first, slumped down somewhere and broken. But after a few minutes he would get back on his feet, focusing on the issue at hand, on whatever it was that was left to do. Could be done. It was the way he always handled things. She had felt a lot safer when the van had finally moved.

They had brought her to Division, no surprises there. Shoved her into an interrogation room and given her the standard treatment, knowing of course that she hadn't slept in nearly 40 hours and hoping it would make their job easier.

The first guy had just yelled at her, threatened her with what they should be doing to her, what could and would happen to her if she didn't start talking. A casual attempt to intimidate her but mostly it was just to keep her busy. Busy and awake. She had just sat there, looked at him with a void expression, listened but not said a word.

When had Drazen approached her? How? Had she been in direct contact? How? Had she been recruited inside the agency? What had her exact orders been? How long had she known what was going to go down today? Did she really wanna make things even worse for herself?

After a while he had left and the next guy had taken over. Already a bit better informed about the whole case, even a bit familiar with her file. He had taken a softer approach, tried to convince her that talking was the only way for her out of this. She had smiled at him, remembering the speech she and Tony had given Jamey earlier. He had even made the same helpless offer in the end, that everything she said might help cut her a deal. Again she had smiled and he had given up, shrugging his shoulders, stating he was sorry she didn't let him help her. Please, she had thought to herself. At least send someone in who has an idea on how to do this job.

The door hadn't even been closed for twenty seconds before the next guy had been standing in the room, whom she almost believed had simply tried to bore her into a confession. Her mind had wondered off and soon he had been dismissed, replaced by her present interrogator. But after yelling at her for a prolonged period of time without getting any response, he was ordered to leave now as well. With a last glare at her, he turned around and walked out.

She used the short break to close her eyes again, trying to rest while she still could. She was getting more and more tired now and it would inevitably make her weaker. They knew how to use it and soon they would send someone in who would know how to handle her. She had to be on her guard then.

She heard the door open and close again, footsteps to her right, just a few, then nothing. She took her time before she opened her eyes, looking right at the mirror wall in front of her. Then she turned her head around, slowly, casually, indifferently.

She could tell right away he had done his homework. It was something about him that simply told her he was familiar with her file and with the case, knew what had been going down today. Yesterday. Whatever...

He just stood there for a while, studying her features and then her profile when she turned her head back again, incuriously, demonstrating she wasn't impressed or particularly interested. After a few seconds he came closer, sitting down across from her, resting his hands on the table. The sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, his tie a bit loosened. His last shaving had been a while ago so it couldn't be morning yet. He didn't have to miss out on breakfast to come in. He hadn't been up as long as she had but he was definitely working overtime.

"You need anything?" he asked in a casual, almost friendly tone, trying to get her to say her first words, coax a reaction out of her since she hadn't shown any so far. She didn't now either.

"Alright," he sighed, leaning back a little. "We both know I'm just here to cover until they find someone who they think can get to you."

Finally. Finally someone who acknowledged that she wasn't new to the game.

He tilted his head and looked at her with a slightly amused expression.

"I imagined you taller."

He paused and smiled at her, giving her time to react, but she didn't. Just kept looking back at him with the same blank expression. Of course he had expected something else.

"I mean, I kinda would have expected a guy to be honest. Or at least someone more... ." He shrugged. "What can I say, I'm conservative."

Again he paused, still smiling but displaying a thoughtful expression then.

"I read you went to John Jay?"

She knew he wasn't just chitchatting, trying to kill time while he was stuck with her. But he surely was good at pretending he was. Not so much his words but the way he was sitting, his hands folded behind his head, looking as if he was bored and simply had nothing else to do. It surely was wasted on her but it was interesting to watch him.

"Criminal psychology, Master of Arts," he continued, not bothering to try and make it look like an effort to remember her CV. "I went there too, you know."

She displayed a faint sigh, letting him know she couldn't care less.

"Master of Arts in law, Fletcher School, Tufts University, Bachelor of Arts in history," he kept on citing from her file, "Harvard." He gave her a thoughtful look. "Worked hard, huh?"

She started to lose interest. And for a moment she wondered if he actually really wasn't out for anything in particular.

"Can I ask you a question? How the hell did you end up at CTU? I mean, RAND, the National Security Council - can't have been easy to get in there. And then you become a federal agent in one of the least known agencies this country has?" He looked at her as if he really expected an answer. As if he really was curious. "I mean, if I didn't miss something here it was your free decision."

She lowered her gaze, feeling the tiredness pressing on her eyelids. Her own, free decision. Yeah, she probably should have stayed at RAND, doing research and development analysis. Or she should have gone back to university, an a academic career, lecturing...

She had thought about it but it hadn't seemed to suit her. It didn't. It still wouldn't. She would make the same choices all over again. And the NSC, sure, it had been exciting at first. But in the end it had led her here just as much as Division or CTU.

She met his eyes again, knowing where he was going.

"If I had your potentialities, I wouldn't be here now," he sighed and leaned further back, looking up to the ceiling now, making an expression as if he really regretted not having had her options. "The job is disturbing, the payment is lousy. Considering the puny private life though, it doesn't matter, I guess."

He looked at her again, his hands still at the back of his head.

"Just out of curiosity: if you had gotten away, you wouldn't have to worry about money anymore, right?"

She had been sure it would be either the money or her private life he would pick up on. She wondered when he would start asking her about Jack.

"Oh, come on," he exclaimed with a helpless gesture. "No harm in telling me. I know you're tired and exhausted and you think that once you start talking, you run into the danger of saying something you don't wanna say and give something away you don't want them to know." He gave her a sympathetic look. "But you will have to break your silence eventually. They'll make you. They always do." Another little pause to give his words time to sink in. "I know how many interrogations you've witnessed, monitored or supervised. Hell, you know that stuff better than I do."

Of course, she did. He was right. Maybe she wouldn't tell them what they wanted to hear, maybe she wouldn't give anything away, but she would have to open her mouth eventually. Everyone did.

"See, you think it's easier if you hold out as long as possible, right?" he stated as if he wanted to debate a theory with her. "But isn't it just getting harder? I mean, you must be holding back so much. I know the kinds of amateurs they sent in here before they got a hold of me. You gotta be annoyed, irritated, angry maybe. With your background you deserve better than that, right?" He leaned forward now, laying his elbows on the table, folding his hands. "Now, once you start talking, isn't the risk of revealing something just getting higher? I mean, the more there is you don't wanna say, the harder it gets to separate between what is really important and what you could say without any harm for yourself."

She thought about it for a second. But she knew he was just trying to confuse her. He knew how tired she was. Getting her to question her strategy was smart but she wouldn't fall for it. She remained silent, knowing her expression hadn't given away that she had been doubting for a second. Not doubting, just considering. Maybe he wouldn't succeed but he knew what he was doing. He knew her analytical mind wouldn't just pass over his words. He was good.

She sighed soundlessly and lowered her gaze once again. She understood, of course, what he was doing. He was feeling her up. Exploring the ground for the next interrogator, who ever that would be. Who did they think could get to her? And how?

For a second she wondered what Jack was doing. Under different circumstances he would be the obvious choice. But now - would they just send him home? Had they already let him go? Normally, he would have to be debriefed as soon as possible but in regard of his loss it was more than likely they would make an exception. Would they at least have someone keeping an eye on him? He wasn't stupid. It wouldn't take him long to figure out where they had brought her. Chappelle had probably made sure he couldn't get anywhere near her but...Jack had made a new friend today. A friend who had already used his influence once to supersede Chappelle. And that even before Jack had saved his life. What if Jack could get Palmer to...

She shook her head inwardly. She was getting paranoid. Palmer was so self-righteous in his moral beliefs, he would never help Jack to get to her. It had to be clear even to him that there was only one thing Jack could be interested in. He certainly wouldn't ask her anything. There was enough she could tell him if her life depended on it but it wasn't her knowledge or the identity of her employer that had saved her back at CTU. She knew that much. And the one thing that had saved her down in the garage, what she had seen in Jack's eyes – it would never save her again.

Wouldn't he be with Kim now? After all, she had just lost her mother.

"I see I've already lost your interest."

She didn't even look up, closing her eyes instead for a moment, squeezing them shut and opening them again, trying to clear her vision. She knew it was a sign of weakness but who was she kidding? It was obvious what state she was in. And just like more than twelve hours ago, in the holding room at CTU, she felt like getting up and walking around, stretching to fight the tiredness out of her body and her mind. Only that this time she was restrained to the chair.

At least you are not depending on what happens next door. She tried to think positively. This time she didn't have to hope Tony would hold out long enough for Jack to call in or… Sitting there all by herself, helpless, powerless, she had known he would talk eventually. He surely had been committed not to, but he would have turned her in. To save his job, his career, his future. He would have hated himself for hanging her out to dry but he wouldn't have taken the risk. She couldn't blame him. If there was one thing Alberta Green was really good at, it was making an impression on people. She hadn't had any proof of course, not against Tony, as there never was any. And if he had only thought it through, he would have come to the same conclusion. He had always been safe, the only job at stake being Nina's. But she could imagine how Alberta had put the screws on him. And somewhere along the way it had probably mattered as well that Tony had thought she was doing all this to help Jack. And not just as a friend.

Tony. She wondered how he was holding up, now that… But she had other things to think about. This time she was in control.

"Been a long day, huh?" he asked and snapped her back into the now and there. "I can imagine it's been a tough ride for you. All the ups and downs, keeping your stories straight, pretending to do your job while following your own agenda." He almost looked impressed. "Must have been a piece of work."

It surely was. It had taken her half of the day to figure out what was going on. And ups and downs? There had been a good many of those. When Jack had taken her out of CTU, his gun at her - the despair in his eyes when he had told her it was her or Teri and Kim. She had noticed the flak jacket, of course, but suddenly she hadn't been too sure anymore if he had put it on her on purpose. And it wouldn't protect her if he really wanted to kill her. Then when they had found out about Jamey, trying to figure out who Gaines was and why he had wanted Jack to kill her, how she had ended up in the middle of all this. And once she had gotten her orders, finally been told what was expected of her, things had only gotten more and more out of control.

"Guess it didn't get any easier when Jamey Farrel got exposed."

Jamey. Of course. They must still think I recruited her. Her eyes when she had realized that she was done. That Tony was right, that Gaines would go after her and eventually her son. That she was screwed either way. Nina, please. Her tears. Her begging. Please, Nina. She had helped her, hadn't she? She had done the best she could. Kyle would be safe.

She looked up to him again, still maintaining her indifferent expression, still not giving anything away. She knew what he was doing. Feeding her mind these little appetizers, making her go through everything that had happened. He was tiring her out. They probably didn't expect him to get anything substantial out of her but he was wearing her down. Hoping to get at least a glimpse of a weakness that could be used against her later. He would bring up other names as well, mention other facts, events, hoping she would react at some point. She was so tired and it was so easy to follow his lead, pick up on the catch words he gave her. Subtle, cunning, never touching the issue too obviously. Partly because she might see what he was up to, partly because he had to be careful not to reveal to her how much they had or hadn't figured out yet. He was trying to manipulate her. And it was so easy to let her mind drift off and the thoughts just flow through her conscience. But sooner or later he would hit a nerve. Or at least he would think he had. Sooner or later she wouldn't just think along the path he directed her on. She would show an emotion, object to something he said, voice her thoughts. That was what he was waiting for.

She had to stop thinking about it. At least she couldn't afford to attach any feelings to it. The moment they knew she had regrets or second thoughts, that she was worried about something or even felt the merest hint of guilt, they would use it against her. She couldn't let that happen. Keeping her mouth shut was still her best option. There was a good chance that her employer would send someone to take care of her right away, as long as he could still get to her. But in that case talking wouldn't keep her safe either. Her best chance was to hope that she would be trusted. Not a good chance exactly. Trust wasn't a highly prized attribute in her line of work, leverage weighing much heavier. But for the moment she had no intention of using hers.

"Looked pretty nasty to me when you got rid off her."

She didn't understand and frowned. Seeing the hesitation in her face, he had to feel some satisfaction. Finally some reaction. But now it was his turn not to let it show.

"I saw the footage from the surveillance camera," he explained after a while, realizing she wasn't gonna ask.

She tried to fathom the implications of his words while reminding herself to be careful now.

The surveillance camera. The surveillance camera in ITS of course. So she had missed something in the rush. They had proof against her for that as well. But what difference did it make. The murder count against Jamey was the least of her worries. It wasn't what would bring her down.

What had brought her down was Drazen. She had never had a choice whether to help him or not but she should never have agreed to telling Jack that Kim was dead. She had known right away that it was too risky, but she hadn't seen any point in trying to explain to Drazen what psychological impact such a message would have on Jack, not to mention what it might cause him to do. Trying to explain that he was only more dangerous if he felt that he had nothing to lose anymore. Instead she had simply hoped Drazen would keep his promise and kill Jack. It would have been a clean solution.

But Drazen had failed. And what of course ultimately had brought her down was the fact that she hadn't made it out of the car park in time. A minute would have been enough, thirty seconds maybe for Jack to be delayed. Or if he had pulled into the garage a few seconds earlier, if she had caught sight of him before starting the car. She could have duck down, waited for him to get out of the way or even until he was out of the car. She could have shot him herself or used the few seconds it would take him to find the dead guard and figure out she had already gotten past him.

"Did you simply not know there was one or did you forget it in all the fuss? Or did you not care?"

Just a few seconds, she thought, almost amused. In the end what really had brought her down was bad luck. Nothing more, nothing less. Just bad luck.

"Man, that was a lot of blood."

He was prying, not willing to let it go yet. Did he believe he had hit a nerve by bringing up Jamey?

She was tempted to lift her chin up and stare right back into his eyes, letting him know that she knew, that she was seeing through his little tactic. But she was too tired and just let her gaze wander off, travel through the room and down on the table. Don't waste energy on defying him.

"I bet killing Teri was easier," he moved on. Still trying to sound unmoved, bored, casual. But she could tell by the way he said her name that it wasn't coming that easy. "I mean, shooting someone seems like...less personal, isn't it? You don't get your hands dirty, you don't even have to be close to the other person. You just twitch your finger and that's it." But he didn't know Teri. He was talking about a complete stranger, using her first name because he wanted Nina to anticipate something with it. If he had said Mrs. Bauer or the wife of your boss - it would have been easier for her to dismiss it, emotionally detach herself. From her crime, from her victim. But this way he could be sure Teri's face would surface in her mind.

The way she had stared at her when she had understood. Teri had defied her. She hadn't resisted or fought her but the look in her eyes, the expression on her face - she had been afraid but she had been angry as well. Just giving her that impeaching look, glaring at her. As if she wanted to say: how could you? Full of contempt. He trusted you. We trusted you.

She became beware of his gaze on her again. His scrutinizing eyes on her face, trying to figure out if she responded, how.

She sighed scornfully. Teri should have been relieved, shouldn't she? After all, there had been no reason for her anymore to fear Nina could steal her precious husband, apparently her sole concern the second she had learned that Kim and Jack were safe. But maybe that had been the problem. Finding out that Jack had been seeing her, his partner, the woman he still saw at work every single day had hit Teri hard. But also knowing that Jack had chosen his family over Nina had probably relieved her. And assured her enough to show some generosity and 'forgive' her. The past is the past. I have nothing but respect for you. Right. But realizing that Jack had slept with the enemy, that everything that had happened to her and Kimberly was even more Jack's fault than she had already thought - maybe that was why Teri had seemed rather angry than afraid. Maybe I saved you some trouble, Jack.

She closed her eyes. No. Teri hadn't blamed Jack. Maybe herself, for trusting you. For thanking her for saving their lives. For actually starting to like her over these last few hours. And she had been angry because it had been no one else but Nina who had almost gotten her and Kimberly killed. No one else but her who had betrayed them all, gained their trust and sold them out.

It was you. Wasn't it?

Nina's eyelids felt like lead again and her vision became blurry. For a moment she tried to keep her eyes open, fight, keep it together. Why again? Sleep seemed like such a release. If she could only... .

"Hey."

She heard him, his voice calm, not the least bit aggressive, not yelling at all. But she didn't care. Kept her eyes closed and felt herself drifting off.

"Hey." Again. "Nina." And she jerked her head up to stare at... But it was just him. For a second she had thought… But it was just her tired, worn out mind playing tricks on her.

Still, there was something strange in the way he used her first name. As if… It seemed to come easy. Easier than Teri's or Jamey's names earlier. But then again, there was nothing strange about that. He had studied her file, probably watched her for some time before walking in, and if she was right then it was his job to connect with her, get into her mind, establish some sort of bond, even if only for a short while. She knew what it took to deal with that.

"Sorry," he said, looking back at her, slightly knitting his brows. "I can't let you sleep."

She tilted her head back and to the sides, trying to stretch her tensed muscles while taking a deep breath. What time could it be? She had reached her lowest point now, but it would pass. She would feel better again. Soon. At least for a while.

She had to keep her mind focused. On anything but his voice, anything but his words. On everything but what he wanted her to focus on.

"So, Jack," he sighed, leaning back in his chair again. "Just between you and me - is there anything to those rumors?"

Treason. A breach of allegiance to one's government, usually committed through levying war against such government or by giving aid or comfort to the enemy, she cited in her head.The act of treason requires the disclosure of government security secrets to other countries, friendly or unfriendly, when the information could cause harm to American security.

"You really slept with him?"

A person commits the crime of treason if he or she is spying for a foreign power or doing damage to the government's operation and its agencies, particularly those involved in security.

"And what was that other guy's name...Almeida...?"

Treason is a crime under federal and some state laws. She sighed. It wasn't like she hadn't been perfectly aware of what she was doing.

"Tony?"

And of the consequences. Treason is made a high crime, punishable by death, under federal law by Article III, section 3 of the U.S. Constitution.

"Seems you had them all under control."

No person shall be convicted of treason, unless on the testimony of two witnesses to the same overt act, or on confession in open court. She almost smiled. Not quite likely. Neither the confession nor the open court. But it wouldn't get them into any trouble to come up with the necessary evidence. She had destroyed everything that led to her employer but besides the video footage of the surveillance cameras, the dead guards and her failed attempt to run, she had carried enough proof on her to make a case against herself. The disc.

"But then it didn't really work out in the end, huh?"

She met his eyes again. No, it hadn't. She had done her best but it just hadn't been enough. And it was no consolation at all that it hadn't even been her fault.

"So what do you think is gonna happen to you now?"

She would have to play her cards smart. Disregarding the problem with her employer for a moment, she would try to hold out and await her sentence. Not that she was keen on federal prison but ironically enough it was the only place where she would be safe for the time being. Safe from her employer, from Jack, from whoever else might have an interest in seeing her dead. And if she was patient and waited for her time to come, she would find a way to get herself out of this situation. With everything she knew - time was on her side.

Only if they were really gonna send her on death row, she would have no choice but to disclose some of her knowledge. Important enough for them to offer her something in return but of course harmless enough not to venture her own life. If she wanted to benefit from any deal, she would have to make sure she'd live through it. But maybe it wouldn't be necessary. Maybe it would just be enough to let them know she did know something. Too much to kill her, too important to miss.

She knew where that would get her of course. They wouldn't just lock her up and wait. The interrogations would continue and her interrogators would become more 'insistent'. And she wasn't sure if she was up for that. She was trained to withstand torture but she knew there was only so much she could take until she would reach her breaking point. Everybody breaks.

Her training. She suppressed another smile. She had been trained, prepared for this situation. Not by CTU or Division of course. Her office job didn't exactly require those skills. But her employer had taken care of it and she still remembered the details about her fake vacation that fall two years ago. The places she'd never been to, the hotels she had never stayed in, the trip across country she had never made. Nice memories compared to where she really had been.

"...murder charge...", she picked up two words. Of course he was still talking to her. She saw his lips moving, heard his voice, felt it flowing into her head, but it was just passing through. She wasn't really listening.

Murder is the unlawful killing of another human being with premeditated intent or malice aforethought.

Killing Jamey had been premeditated. She had have enough time to make a conscious decision, to realize there was no other way out. But malice? Malice aforethought. She wondered if the word was appropriate.

A person commits the crime of murder if he, with intent, causes the death of another person, or under circumstances manifests extreme indifference to human life.

Had she manifested extreme indifference to human life? Probably.

Engages in conduct which creates a grave risk of death to a person other than himself, and thereby causes the death of another person.

She certainly had created a grave risk of death to Teri and Kim when she had helped the Drazens to get to them again at the safe house.

Murder may also be committed in the course of and in furtherance of the crime that is committed or attempted to commit, or in immediate flight there from.

Had she really killed Teri in premeditation? Had she really thought it through? Or had she actually just panicked with the alarm going off and knowing Jack was on his way and that he would piece it together once Teri mentioned Germany. Legally the answer was clear, but she wondered.

In the State of California, murder is the unlawful killing of a human being, or a fetus, with malice aforethought.

The fetus...

If Jack knew? Probably. Teri had been so excited when she had told her. And then Jack had called a little later. Of course she had told him. He would be even more devastated. If that was possible.

Her eyes fell shut again and she quickly opened them before her head could drop down. They would have to let her sleep eventually. It would soon feel better. It would all get better.

She lingered in the thought and only after a while she noticed that it was quiet. He was quiet.

Looking up, she met his eyes and wasn't sure how to interpret the expression she saw on his face. Had he given up? Or was he just considering a change of tactics? A different approach? Or was he thinking about all the things he would rather do than being stuck here with her?

And why was he here in the first place? She was absolutely positive she had never seen the guy before, so, either he was a freshman or an outsider. He was referring to 'them' all the time which could be a sign for the latter one but it could also be on purpose. To make him seem neutral and less of an enemy. However, if he was an outsider, he wasn't here to stall.

The way he had been treating her the entire time - how long had he been sitting there? -, it almost had something respectful. But she knew, of course, that it was just an attempt to make her relax a little. Not seeing him as the enemy. Not create a hostile atmosphere. Right now, he wasn't disgusted by her or her actions because he couldn't afford to be. He had to try and see things through her eyes, think like her, feel like her. Well, sorry. Not much there to feel. Despising her would have to wait until later and even then it would come in a lesser degree. Just like a doctor who had seen too many smashed bodies to still be touched by it in the same way everyone else would, he had probably studied and analyzed too many twisted minds to still be appalled by them like normal people would. It was a gradual, step-by-step change. Slowly at first, and then suddenly you were right in the middle of it and the part of you that reacted with natural aversion and detestation just...faded. Dwindled. It was still there of course, and sometimes it would hit you when you least expected it. At other times it wouldn't come at all no matter how much you wanted it to. Funny how certain things could still disgust her while others couldn't.

It was of course different for everyone and he was sitting at the other side of the table for a reason.

"Not afraid of anything, are you?" he asked, almost smiling at her.

Afraid? She had been afraid earlier. Running down the corridor, shooting the first guard, getting inside the elevator and into the garage, she had felt her heart beating faster, the adrenaline pounding through her veins. Not the kind of fear that could slow you down, paralyze you and be your worst enemy but the kind of fear that told her she was in trouble and things had taken a bad turn. The kind of fear that was her friend, made her brain work even quicker.

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, again bending her head forward and backward, stretching her muscles, rolling her shoulders in their joints. Stay focused.

"All right, I think we're through here." He tilted his head a little, definitely smiling now. "So what does it take?" he asked playfully. "To make you talk? Say anything? One word?" He was almost cute. "Come on," he exclaimed, waving his hand through the air. "I'll feel really stupid if I have to walk out now and didn't even hear your voice."

She had to struggle not to frown. What was this? She suddenly felt 16 again, being asked out on a date. He was young. She had thought so when he had entered the room. And thought he either had to be really good or Division was shorthanded for the night. Of those two options, she had dismissed the latter one a while ago.

He sighed, folding his hands together and pulling a face. "Alright. You win." He glanced at his wristwatch. "Surely could have done something better with my time but hey - at least I'm getting paid for this." He winked at her. "Guess I'm gonna go home now, get some sleep."

He got up and moved his chair closer to the table, making a point that he was done, and her eyes followed him for a few steps on his way to the door until he slipped out of her field of vision. Too tired to turn her head, she let her gaze wonder back and then closed her eyes. Sleep. It seemed like a promise of heaven.

"I wonder what Jack's doing now."

She abruptly opened her eyes, staring at the table in front of her for a second before she noticed he had turned around again and was watching her reaction. Her first impulse was to close her eyes again, turn away, but it would be admitting she had something to hide. That mentioning Jack had finally triggered something in her.

She took her time to lift her chin a little bit, stem her eyelids against the lead that seemed to lie upon them, turning her head around to him slowly, meeting his gaze. Her expression blank, displaying nothing but exhaustion.

He sneered. Standing there and looking down at her, he sneered. And took a few steps towards her again.

"Ever wondered who's gonna come in here after me?"

She knew it was just a last effort to pry a reaction out of her. But she couldn't stop the slight note of terror emerging in her mind.

They would never let him in here. They couldn't. They would never find out anything if they let Jack kill her. We need her alive. Mason had said it himself.

He was bluffing, of course, playing on a hunch probably. She hinted a sneer as well and turned her head away. Had she reacted in any way at his words? She didn't think so but given her condition, she couldn't be sure her features – and her entire body really - were still obeying her mind.

"They'll break you." He shoved his hands into his pockets, the amused expression still on his face. "You know that, don't you?"

She kept her gaze at the table in front of her, trying to maintain a bored expression.

"I mean, as impressing as this silent treatment number is - where do you think it'll get you?"

He was trying to break her. When she had already thought he was giving up. She had let her guard down too early.

"Let me tell you what I think." He moved up and sat down on the corner of the table. "I think right now, you think if you just keep your mouth shut, you'll get away because you know too much to get death penalty. And you think if you can resist long enough, you might be able to cut yourself some sort of deal. Am I right?"

Should she be impressed because he had figured that out?

"Someone with your intelligence, your expertise, your experience - you think you're invincible? You think they've got nothing to work with, nothing to use against you?"

She looked up at him, displaying annoyance and scorn she didn't really feel. She knew he was having a point. She knew what was gonna come to her.

He shrugged. "We'll see about that. But I can promise you one thing. At some point," he said, his voice lower now and almost a whisper, "you'll wish Jack had pulled that trigger." He nodded to underline his remark and smiled confidently whilst she tried not to let him see that she was afraid he could be right.

He stared at her a moment longer before he got up. "You'll remember my words."

With a last sneer, he turned around and left, and this time she waited until the door had closed behind him before she closed her eyes and tried to relax. You'll wish Jack had pulled that trigger. Oh, she would wish for a lot of things but never for that. She would stick to her plan and one day it would pay off.

But it was hard to lose the image of Jack's finger clenched around the trigger, the muzzle of his gun not even an inch away from her face.