8:00pm to 9:00pm
Vice President Jim Prescott looked over his latest security briefing. Everything was in order, for the most part. There were a few minor incidents, as always, but they were to be expected. This was America, after all. He looked around his office, it depressed him. Even though it was rather large, definitely nothing to scoff at, but it didn't compare with the President's office he had become used to sitting in while Palmer was recuperating. He liked the big office, he liked the big role. Second in command of the world's most powerful country, and he suddenly felt like having a task of importance could not be any further away.
Palmer had not even been back at work a month, and already he was showing signs of weakness, in Prescott's mind. They were only ever relatively small things, but enough to make him feel uneasy. Moments of confusion, times when he had shown difficulty in paying attention, and a general detached attitude that made it seem more like Palmer was reading an interesting novel than running a country.
In any case, he was hesitant about attempting to invoke the 25th Amendment again. The first time, he had genuinely thought he was acting in the best interests of the country. Palmer had unquestioningly shown indecisiveness that threatened to endanger thousands of American lives. As far as he was concerned, he had done what needed to be done. He had felt terrible when they found out that Palmer had been right all along, and even refused to resign, but Palmer would not hear of it. Of course, barely half an hour later, he was called on to act as the President again…
"Mr. Vice President," his secretary said to him over the speakerphone.
"Yes, Angela?" he said to her.
"The Chief of Staff is here to see you."
Prescott was temporarily stunned. "Very well, send him in."
He had never liked Palmer's annoying little brother. He remembered when Palmer had emerged from his coma, the first thing he did was to insist his brother occupy the post. But Prescott hated him being there, always ready with a snide or sarcastic remark. He wondered what on earth he could want to talk to him about.
"Surprised to see me, Jack?" Seth Campbell asked. "It's been a long time."
Jack tried to tug against the ropes around his hands and feet. "I didn't even know you'd been released from federal prison."
"No, I don't expect you to take much interest in people after you put them away," Campbell said. "Even if they are former comrades."
"What did you expect, Seth?" Jack asked. "I found out that you and two other agents had been taking bribes. Did you expect me to just look the other way? I'm sorry but I couldn't do that."
Campbell gave a short laugh. "And you've never violated any orders, have you Jack? I had a look at your profile, it's very - interesting. Impressive, of course, I'd imagine nothing less from you. But from what I saw, you have no problem with breaking a rule or two."
"I only break the rules when it's necessary, to help people," Jack replied simply. "Not to help myself."
"I wish we all had your prerogative to choose which laws we could and couldn't follow," Campbell said with a rueful smile. "Unfortunately there wasn't a President willing to step in on my behalf."
"So what, you killed forty homeless people and dumped their bodies in a house, called CTU and hoped I'd get assigned to the case?" Jack asked.
Campbell laughed again, but this time he seemed to be hiding something from Jack. "Something like that, yeah."
"How did you know I would? There are dozens of field agents who could have just as easily been assigned the case," Jack said slowly.
"Well, something told me the CTU Director would want to send in his best agent to handle a case like that," Campbell replied. "And from what I know, that's you Jack."
"And this was all just to get revenge for putting you away?"
"Oh, not just for that," Campbell said to him sinisterly. "Or don't you know about everything else that happened to me?"
"What are you talking about?" Jack asked him.
"My wife, Judy," Campbell said, and he moved another step closer to Jack, so his sunken eyes were more visible in the shadows. "She hung herself while I was inside. I remember the day they told me, before that she had been all that was keeping me going. Every day I had been thinking to myself, I just had to keep holding on until I got out, then I could see her again. But after she died, I had nothing to go back to, so I tried to end it. I managed to slit my wrists, but even that didn't go as I wanted. They found me and rushed me to a clinic, and then I had to endure a mental health review committee. I tell you, there's nothing worse than hearing a panel of 'experts' sitting around calling you crazy."
"You really think you're sane?" Jack challenged him.
"Shut up Jack!" Campbell yelled, and punched Jack in the stomach, causing him to fall to the floor. "I lost my wife because of you! BECAUSE OF YOU!" He started to kick Jack, and then stamped down hard on his neck. Despite this, Jack retained consciousness. "When I got out, they wouldn't let me see my kids, and I guess I always knew that would happen. Having a disgraced government agent as a father, who had tried to commit suicide and couldn't get a job to save his life, at least not one I could put on a tax form."
"So you've been working as a mercenary since you got out?" Jack surmised breathlessly. He tried to get back on his feet, but Campbell kicked him back down again.
"How long do you think I've been out, Jack?" Campbell asked. "I've had enough time to plan one operation - this one."
"You couldn't possibly have the money to hire enough people for this," Jack realised, as he remembered that there had been at least five men that had attacked them at the station. "Who's financing this?"
Campbell smiled. "Leave it to you to work out something like that," he smirked. "But my backers wish to remain anonymous."
"Backers?" Jack repeated. "So you're being funded by an organisation."
Campbell's smiled flickered. Jack could tell he had not meant to let that slip. Jack tried to think of any organisation or group that could have had a personal grudge against him. There were too many to count.
"Chloe, you got anything on the traffic cameras yet?" Adrian Rouse asked. He had walked over to her area to be able to see what she was doing first hand.
At first, Chloe did not reply. She was busily tapping her keyboard and not taking her eyes off her monitor for a second. The screen was split into many sections, each of which had a different view of a road.
"Chloe!" Adrian snapped.
"Wait one second!" Chloe barked back, still keeping her gaze fixedly on her workstation. Adrian took a closer look at what she was doing, and saw that she was advancing frame by frame on a picture of a dark car that did indeed have one taillight out.
"Got it," she said with a smile as she froze on one particular frame. She zoomed in and enhanced the picture enough to be able to read the licence plate.
"Good work," Adrian told her, trying to give her a compliment.
"I did find another car with only one working taillight," she said, as if she had not heard his praise. "But there was a woman driving it, and it didn't look big enough to carry someone in the back. This one on the other hand…" she changed the zoom to focus on the interior of the car. "Two large men in the front, and look at that thing behind them, it could be your agent if he was tied up."
"Can you follow this car?" Adrian asked her. "We need to know where they took him."
"I can try," Chloe replied, with a slightly doubtful tone in her voice. "It depends where they're going really. CalTrans can hopefully take us as far as the freeways, and after that I might be able to use satellite."
"Okay, do it then," Adrian said impatiently.
"Fine, but would you at least tell me what's going on? Which agent is it that's been captured?" Chloe retorted.
Adrian cleared his throat. "Jack Bauer," he said stiffly.
"Jack?" Chloe repeated, disbelieving. She had not had very much personal contact with Jack in the short time she had been working at CTU, but his reputation was unavoidable around the office. He was the legend. He was apparently the most capable agent there, past or present.
"I'll inform Jennings of what you found," Adrian said, bringing Chloe's attention back to the matter at hand. "And I'll put out an APB for the car. Follow the car, and tell me when it reaches its final destination."
Chloe nodded, and Adrian walked up to Jennings's office. He was surprised to see when he got there that his boss was drumming his fingers on his desk nervously and was sweating profusely.
"Are you all right?" he asked slightly unsurely.
Jennings seemed to have been jerked out of whatever thoughts he had been having at Adrian's arrival.
"I'm fine," he answered dismissively. "It's just… well this isn't an easy situation to say the least."
"Well I think it might've got a little bit more manageable," Adrian told him. "Chloe thinks she's found the car they took Jack in. She's using CalTrans and satellite to find out where it's going."
"That's good news," he mumbled. He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a tissue, which he used to wipe the sweat off his face.
"Yes, well, I'll just go and put out an ABP for the car," Adrian said cautiously, backing out of the room.
"Adrian," Jennings called when he had almost gone. "Sorry about this, I'm just under a lot of pressure."
"No problem, sir," Adrian said as he left.
But as Adrian made his way back to his own workstation, he thought there was a problem. Something was very wrong with the Head of CTU.
Wayne and Prescott looked over the intelligence report Wayne had brought in with him. It was all very boring, and did not tell Prescott anything he did not already know.
"Is this all you came to see me about?" Prescott asked.
"Well… not exactly," Wayne admitted. He obviously wanted to bring the conversation to the main topic discreetly, and in his own time, and did not like the fact Prescott had done it first.
"What is it then?" Prescott demanded impatiently.
"I want to know what you think of my brother," Wayne said plainly.
"What I think of him? I think he's a good man and a good leader to this country."
"Stop BS'ing me, Jim," Wayne retorted. "Tell me what you think of his condition."
Prescott faltered for a moment. "Without any significant evidence of his being incapable of doing his duties, I don't see any cause for concern. I'm not going to make the same mistake again. I think he's fine."
Wayne nodded slightly. "Well I don't."
Karsen's cell phone started to ring.
"A hoy hoy," he answered lightly.
One of the men who had kidnapped Jack was on the other end. "We've taken Bauer to the factory. He's with Campbell now."
"Good," Karsen said. "Hopefully now that baby's got his bottle he'll shut up for a little while. Thank you."
After he hung up, he turned back to his laptop. An icon started flashing in his taskbar, telling him that he had an incoming transmission. He clicked the icon to bring it up. A video conference started up on his screen. The man on Karsen's display was in his mid-forties, with full, black hair and cold, grey eyes.
A flicker of fear crossed Karsen's face. "Mr. Burton," he said. "How can I help you, sir?"
"I wanted to give you some news, Dean," Burton said in a business-like voice. "Nick Lewis was killed this afternoon."
"That's a shame, sir," Karsen responded without emotion. After a thoughtful pause he added, "Are we to assume this was the work of Harry Ward's group?"
"Dean, who else would it be?"
Karsen nodded. "When did this happen?"
"I spoke to him two hours ago, telling him to come into work, so sometime since then," Burton replied.
"Sir…" Karsen started delicately. "What are you planning in the way of retaliation?"
"Ward has killed two of my men in as many weeks," Burton said firmly. "I'm through biding my time. My vengeance will come swiftly. I'll need you, Dean. I want you to lead the operation."
Karsen raised one hand defensively. "I appreciate that, sir, but could I request that you give this assignment to someone else? I have a personal matter today that I need to take care of."
"A personal matter?" Burton repeated. "I think you need to remember who you work for. We are at war with Ward's team, I need all of my people on board."
"I understand that, sir, and I wouldn't usually ask. But, you see… it's my sister. She's in a lot of trouble, she owes people money and I'm trying to bail her out."
"Yes, yes, all right," Burton snapped impatiently. "But I want you here tomorrow. You'll need to be there to manage the fallout we can expect from Ward after today."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"I'll contact you tomorrow," Burton said before he terminated the connection, and Karsen was left staring at his blank desktop screen again.
Karsen sat back in his chair, covered his face with the palms of his hands, then began massaging his temples. He knew from the beginning that this was going to be a trying day.
Jack looked up at Campbell from the floor, listening to the man describe how terrible his life had become since Jack arrested him, occasionally breaking from his story to kick Jack on the ground whenever he felt the pain from the previous kick was starting to wear off.
"What about George Mason, Jack?" Campbell asked.
"What about him?" Jack muttered.
"You know what. He took down that drug lord right around the same time I took that bribe. A pretty big chunk of his money seemed to just disappear. You knew where it went and I knew where it went, but you didn't have Mason arrested, did you?"
"George was a hero," Jack whispered, more to himself than to Campbell.
"Oh please, he was a weasel," Campbell retorted.
"Whatever you think of him, that drug lord still went down," Jack said, having been beaten so severely by now that talking was beginning to cause him more pain. "Because of you, four known assassinations could have gone free, and would have if I didn't catch you."
"And what about Adam Grant?" Campbell went on. "Just because he was leading the case as well, you assumed he was taking bribes too."
"You say he wasn't?" Jack asked, momentarily caught off guard.
"Well if he was, it was without either of the rest of us knowing, and I doubt those assassinations would have made two separate deals. They bribed two of us. The majority of the lead agents, that's all they needed."
"I was very careful with my investigation," Jack said in short breaths. "I didn't want to believe any of you had done it. I wouldn't have put Grant forwards if I didn't have evidence."
"Well your evidence was wrong."
Jack started to whisper something else, but it was too quiet for Campbell to hear. He let out a soft groan of pain.
"What's that, Jack?" Campbell said, moving closer to Jack and bending over him. Once he was close enough, Jack swung out his bound legs and knocked Campbell to the floor. Though his wrists were also restrained, Jack had enough slack to throw himself on Campbell and elbow him in the face. Campbell was thin, much thinner than Jack remembered him, so it was easy to pin him down. But Campbell brought up his knee to Jack's crotch, and in the time it took for Jack to compose himself again, Campbell scrambled to his feet and reached over to his desk, pulling out a gun and drawing it on Jack.
"Bad boy, Jack," Campbell taunted. "I wanted to take my time killing you, but I'll shoot you if I have to." His mouth had become bloody, and he spat some of it out on Jack's face.
Jack, unable to wipe it away, said nothing.
Adrian started hammering the intercom button.
"What?" Chloe snapped.
"Do I even need to ask? Have you found where they took Jack yet?" Adrian asked.
"Do I even need to say, no?" Chloe bitched back. "Because if I had I would have told you. Frankly I would get it done a lot faster without your constant interruptions."
"Constant? This is the second time I've asked you. You've had almost 45 minutes," Adrian commented.
"In case you haven't noticed, Los Angeles is a pretty big place - quite a few cars. It's not that easy to find a particular one."
"Okay, okay," Adrian said hastily, starting to regret ever starting a conversation with her. "Just call me when you find it."
"Of course I was going to, you didn't need to tell me," Chloe barked before giving a fed-up grunt and disconnecting.
Wayne went back to Palmer's office. His brother looked up at him with a smile when he walked in.
"Where did you go?" Palmer asked.
"Had to look over a report from the Treasury," Wayne said dismissively.
Palmer nodded, and Wayne could not tell if he knew he was lying.
"I wanted to apologise to you," Palmer said abruptly. "I know you just have my best interests at heart."
"Of course I do David, yours and this country's."
"If truth be told, I know I'm still not operating at one hundred percent. I like to tell everybody that I can take care of this country as well as I ever could, but in fact I find myself relying on you and the rest of my staff more than I've ever needed to in the past."
"That's what we're here for," Wayne told him kindly. "Managing the United States was never meant to be a one-man job. But I know I could never do what you do."
Palmer smiled. "You give me too much credit."
The President pulled his brother into a tight hug. Wayne looked away, ashamed that he was right.
Simon Burton had just finished outlining his plan to one of his men that he brought in to replace Karsen.
"I'm not sure about this, sir," the man said cautiously. "It seems to me that this isn't the most efficient way to hit back at Ward's group."
Burton gave a stern look to his subordinate across his office desk. "It may not be the most efficient way, but it will definitely be the best way to send a strong message of deterrence to Ward."
"Yes, sir. That is true. But any possible way this can play out, many more innocent people will die than mercenaries working for Ward."
"That is unfortunate," Burton admitted. "But this is what I want you to do. You have one hour."
It was with mixed feelings of relief and dread that Adrian answered the call from Chloe's workstation.
"Rouse," he answered.
"Well, I've found where they took Jack," Chloe stated, as though she thought Adrian had wasted time by saying his own name. "He's in a factory in North Hollywood, I've sent the exact address to Jennings. He's co-ordinating an assault team."
"Thanks, Chloe," he said grudgingly before hanging up and calling the Director.
"CTU, Jennings," he answered.
"O'Brian just told me she found Jack," Adrian said. "Do you want me to keep in contact with the team that goes in?"
"No, I'll do that," Jennings replied.
"If you're sure, sir," Adrian told him. "I just thought you might want me --"
"Jack is a priority right now," Jennings interrupted. "I want to handle his recovery personally."
Karsen cast a nervous look at his front door to make sure the remaining henchman had not come back yet from disposing of the other henchman's body. He opened a file on his computer, typed in a password, and waited a few seconds for the file to decrypt. Once it was finished, he scrolled through the entries until the found the one he was looking for. He copied down the phone number from the record into his cell phone and called the person.
"Yes?" a deep voice said.
"Mr. Ward, it's Dean Karsen."
"What do you want?" Ward asked.
"I wanted to warn you, Burton just found out that your people killed Lewis," Karsen told him. "He's planning to strike back against you, today."
"I see," said Ward. "Thank you. Will this affect our own plans?"
"I don't know," Karsen replied. "It's possible. In my opinion, you should think about moving forwards as quickly as you can."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ward said in an unperceivable tone, and then hung up.
Karsen cast one more look at the door, then deleted the call record from his phone.
Campbell hit Jack again, so hard that Jack was sure he had broken something. The two of them had not spoken for several minutes. A shrill ringing broke through the silence. Campbell calmly walked over to the desk and picked up his phone.
"What is it?" he asked promptly.
"CTU has found your position," the caller informed him.
"Oh really," Campbell said, eyeing Jack on the floor, careful not to say anything that could tip off Jack as to what he was talking about, or who he was talking to.
"I prepared you for this. You did get the package, didn't you?"
"I did, thank you," Campbell replied.
"Good. Now I want to see my family."
Campbell sighed. "I will tell my men to activate the feed in a few minutes. Call me when you have anything else to tell me."
"I will," CTU Director Gary Jennings said as he put his phone down. He took out his PDA and watched the screen expectantly. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
9:00pm