Four months later…

d2: + 21 months

d3: − 1 year, 3 months

Part VII: Back to the roots

"So, how the hell are you?"

Nick leaned back smiled. Well, he was fine, wasn't he?

"I'm fine."

"Nice to hear," Davis smiled back at him. "It's good to see you, kid."

"Yeah. Good to see you too."

"Well, you could have had that sooner. What have you been up to all these years? I suppose you haven't been in town?"

"No, not really. I did some moving, been a bit here and there, working, traveling, living. You know, the kind of stuff you don't get to do," he joked.

"Right," Davis grinned. "So what brings you back? You got a job around here?"

"No, I'm just passing through. Thought it would be nice to catch up."

"Good thinking, kid."

Their drinks came and Davis proposed a toast.

"To the one who got away."

Nick nodded, not sure what to say, and they clinked glasses.

"You said passing through?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way home. I mean, the area where I grew up."

"Visiting your folks?"

"No, just some old friends," Nick kept his answer brief, but reconsidered. "Actually, my parents died. Years ago. There's no one else as for family."

"Sorry, kid."

"That's alright. I just felt like going there and see what it's like now. Haven't been there in forever."

"Back to the roots?"

"Yeah, maybe," Nick smiled pensively.

"I've been wondering sometimes after you left. How you were getting along, what you did for a living, you know."

Nick looked at his former colleague, glad to see he hadn't changed. Davis had never been the one to get emotional or sentimental, but he had his own way of conveying his message, showing that he cared. Rather by what he didn't say than by what he said.

"Well, it's been…difficult, at first," Nick admitted, knowing Davis wouldn't try to make him tell more than he wanted. "It's quite a transformation, getting back to…normality?" He smirked. "But I got by. And I had plenty of time to make plans, so, now, all I have to do is…decide which one I'm going through with."

"I see. I thought you maybe went back to school. You know, to teach. I could always imagine you in a class room at some fancy school or college."

"Yeah, I tried that for a while," Nick avoided the issue. "Wasn't that fulfilling."

Davis nodded, not asking further questions, just as Nick had assumed. Instead he took another sip of his drink and got his cigarettes out.

"I would offer you one but I guess you still don't smoke?"

"Actually, I do," Nick admitted embarrassed, and gratefully accepted the cigarette and the light Davis offered.

"You started drinking too?" the older one asked, and Nick understood that despite the sarcastic intonation it wasn't meant as a joke.

"For a while," he answered truthfully, "but it wasn't really me."

Davis nodded.

"Got a bit self-destructive there?"

"Maybe," Nick laughed. "Or maybe I just had a late teenage crisis. The whole rebelling thing, you know. Kinda missed out on that when I was young."

"That's the best explanation you came up with?" Davis mocked him. "I remembered your psycho-analytical skills to be better."

"I'm not really into analyzing and psychology anymore," Nick replied, noticing it came out more serious than he wanted it to sound. I think I had my fair share.

"Who could blame you," Davis sighed, looking thoughtfully at his glass.

"So how's work? What's going on at Division?"

"Same old, same old. Not much I can tell you, I'm afraid," Davis shrugged his shoulders. "Your replacement sucks," he added then, causing Nick to laugh. Davis code for he's not half as good as you. Which meant Davis thought he'd done a good job. The closest to giving a compliment he'd ever be.

"Well, he already lasted longer than I did."

"And that's a shame," Davis replied, looking down at his drink again.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and Nick instantly regretted his comment. He shouldn't have brought it up.

"I shouldn't really tell you this but I trust you with keeping it to yourself," Davis suddenly said, giving him a meaningful look.

"Sure."

"You remember your very first case?" the older one asked, casting his eyes round the room as if to make sure no one was overhearing their conversation. "Don't say a name," he added quickly, just as Nick was about to answer. "Just say 'yes' or 'no'."

"Yes," Nick stated, trying to keep his voice calm and stable. He knew all too well who they were talking about. Should he mention that he had seen her? But wouldn't he have to explain the circumstances of their reunion as well then?

"I guess you also remember the incident with the nuke and the bombing at CTU?" Davis whispered conspiratorially.

"Of course."

"Well, get this. I talked to an old friend over there, couple of weeks ago. Seems like while we were sitting interrogating all day long, they had her brought in for questioning as well. And this time she actually talked."

So that's how she got out. He had never checked. First of all because it was not that easy for him to get that kind of information as a civilian. But also because with everything that had happened that night in Tunisia, he had contented himself with being alive. Of course, when he had called up Davis to meet, he had considered to ask him about it, wondering how to approach the subject without giving himself away.

"Yeah," Davis nodded, obviously interpreting the expression on Nick's face as a sign of surprise. "Seems she was somehow involved in the whole thing. And in trade for providing information that helped to stop it, she got pardoned."

Nick didn't have to fake looking shocked. He had known about the pardon but the connection to the nuke – that was new.

"Seems to me, you were right all along, kid," Davis stated. "She knew an awful lot more than she could have if she had just been working for the old man from Kosovo."

"Seems so," Nick agreed, not sure if he could take any consolation from that fact. Although that was probably the reason why Davis was telling him all this.

"And they let her go," the older one sighed.

Nick smirked. "Isn't it nice to know that you can help setting up a nuclear bomb and still go free?"

"Well, not completely free."

He gave him a questioning look.

"As far as I understood it, she's been released into some kind of limited exile."

"What the hell is that?" Nick asked irritated. He'd never even heard of the term.

"Means they kicked her out of the country. She's a 'persona non grata' here now, restricted to North Africa."

Explains Tunisia, he thought. "But how's that gonna work?"

"I'm not sure," Davis sighed. "It's all highly classified information and some people won't be happy when they find out it's leaking out, not even within the agencies. Although…I could think of one person who might be more than happy if her exact location leaks out."

"Yeah?" Nick wondered, and listened carefully as Davis continued whilst the pieces started to fall into place.

"Anyway," Davis sighed, finishing his drink and his story, "you don't know about any of this."

"Of course not," Nick nodded.

¤¤¤

"I heard you moved?"

Of course he knew.

"Yes," Nina affirmed factually, moving the phone over to her left hand to work the keyboard with her right.

"Was there anything wrong with your previous location?"

"Didn't like the neighborhood," she dismissed his question. She could hardly tell him the real reason. It still surprised her that he hadn't figured it out yet. He was so well-informed about everything else, how could he have missed the history between her and Jack. Well, he probably hadn't, but he didn't seem to know about Jack's longing for revenge. Or his promise. She was sure if he did know, he would have brought it up by now.

"Anyone found out you're flying below radar yet?"

"I'm not. I'm still residing in North Africa and that's all US government needs to know."

"Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes. She wouldn't jeopardize her pardon unless she absolutely had to. And there was only one reason she could think of that could force her to. If she was sure?

"We wouldn't have this conversation if I wasn't." If you weren't. He was starting to irritate her. "So? You didn't just call me to ask about things you already know."

"I've been offered something I want to purchase," he got down to business at last.

"I'm supposed to pick it up for you?"

"No. I want you to establish contact. Neither I nor the other side can afford to be involved in this deal directly. You're going to meet someone."

"An intermediary," she concluded, not showing the excitement she felt at the prospect of a door opening up for her. So far none of her jobs had required a great deal of devotion or even attention, and she felt more underappreciated than ever. Knowing it wasn't her competence that was being questioned, she wondered what else she had to do to prove herself. Hadn't she done more than enough? Didn't she deserve to play in the major league again? For the last few months she had felt like sitting on the substitute's bench. But maybe that was about to change. Whatever this job was about, she had been around long enough to know that this kind of secrecy involved could only mean something big.

"Yes. He'll contact you with the details about where and when."

"Can he be trusted?"

"I thought you knew that I don't trust anyone. But I got him checked out, he seems reliable. Use your own contacts though if that makes you feel better. Just get back to me as soon as you hear from him."

"Alright."

"His name is Michael Amador."

The name didn't ring a bell but when she hung up a few moments later, Nina couldn't help but smile. Maybe things would take a turn now.