A/N: Everyone, thank you so much for your reviews and YellowTang, thank you! I'm very flattered you enjoyed 'Will You Be There?' and this story. Sorry it took me a while with the updates. I usually update quicker but lately I've been very tired. And so I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think. I always love feedback! It keeps me writing!


Chapter two: Hostage

Jack's eyes fluttered open. At the moment, he could barely see the floor as his head hung down. He wasn't in total darkness. A small dim-lit bulb dangled above. He shivered at the dank atmosphere around him and an odor of something long decayed stung his nostrils. From the searing pain of Jack's injured right arm (which he assumed had been broken) and the rancid odor, he wasn't sure how long he could keep himself from losing the dinner he had earlier.

"Where the hell am I?"

Jack as he emerged more and more out of unconsciousness had noticed his hands were handcuffed behind a chair. His ankles shackled together at the bottom. He shifted a little and the pain like furious waves bolted through his arm. Jack winced, gritting his teeth. And it seemed every part of his body had been drenched in a hot sweat. He also noted his gun had been hijacked along with the suit jacket, leaving behind Jack's charcoal-gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The room, no longer a mystery to his eyes. He could see it clearly now: a small cellar with brick walls surrounding him. Beside him sat a round table, and to the far left were stairs that led to a door.

"Jack, are you awake?" he heard a raspy female voice call to him on the other side.

Bauer peeked up at the door and grimaced. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

Hearing only silence, he added, "Where's Chloe?"

"She's not here. It's only you and me, Jack."

His eyes squinted during the process of thinking. The voice hadn't sounded familiar. Jack knew he had numerous enemies and it irritated him even more to be bound in handcuffs and leather cuffs at the ankles by someone he tried desperately to recall. And Chloe, what happened to her?

"You're lying," Jack repeated. His voice boomed around the room. "Where's Chloe?"

The voice came again…calm, sensual. "I'm not lying, Jack. Don't worry about Chloe. She's safe."

The door clicked open and Jack watched in eager anticipation of who teased him. She stepped out of the darkness and stopped beneath a dangling bulb. Her right hand held onto to what looked like a small, brown leather case. Bauer looked up at the tall woman in a scarlet blouse and denim jeans rolled up into cuffs at the knees. She smiled at him—a baleful smile that sent an eerie chill along his exposed arms. But it wasn't only the smile and her gaunt face so pale she appeared like a vampire coming in for her nightly feeding. Something about her hazel eyes, cold and bitter. They looked familiar to him, leaving Jack in mental agony as to who this woman was.

"Who are you?" he asked again, wincing every now and again from the pain.

She leaned forward, bowing her head and making sure he held her attention as she stared boldly into his eyes. "I'm Elizabeth, Liz, Lizzie; whatever you prefer."

Hot trails of sweat trickled down his forehead and onto his face. There was nothing he could do to wipe it and Jack panted as he struggled with the pain that relentlessly assaulted him. Not wanting to say her name no matter the choice of Elizabeth, Liz, Lizzie or even Beth, he wet his parched lips and growled, "What do you want?"

"No, Jack, what do you want?" Lizzie knelt beside him, grasping his left arm. She slowly, teasingly traced her fingers along protruding veins and needle marks quite noticeable on the inside of Jack's arm. "I know what you'd do," came Lizzie's voice in another sensuous whisper, "when you're in pain. Your other arm is broken and I know you wish you had something to make it feel better…don't you, Jack?"

Bauer stubbornly refused to answer. He preferred not looking at her either, keeping his eyes locked on the brick wall ahead.

Lizzie stood and walked in a semi-circle to the table. "What is it?" she said while opening the leather case. Inside were a few vials, a needle and tourniquet. "Morphine?" She eyed him shrewdly. "Or heroin?" As Lizzie turned back to the case, her curly auburn hair followed. "It's heroin." She picked up a thin needle and inserted it inside one of the vials. "See, I know what you want." When the syringe was full, she picked up the tourniquet.

Jack fidgeted in the chair as she approached him with the tourniquet. He never expected to be in a helpless situation like this, forced to take a drug that he tried so hard to avoid—an enemy Jack wanted desperately to forget. But when Lizzie tied the tourniquet around his left arm and jabbed the needle into a thick vein ready to receive it, it had become his friend again. It hadn't taken long before the pain ebbed from his arm, as if the injury and the accident had been only a nightmare. Useless to fight what made him temporarily forget everything—a soothing calm and peace that encompassed his entire being. Although Jack still felt enraged at Lizzie, physically and emotionally he found himself too numb to think of what he could possibly do to get out. Bauer's head fell back against the chair. The ex-CTU agent barely conscious of his surroundings, of Lizzie standing over him; as if she and everything else became suddenly lost in a dense fog, and yet he could still see her through half-closed eyes.

Lizzie smiled. "Now, don't you feel better? I can take care of you, Jack…that's if you behave."

She shut the case, gave him another smile as if ecstatic to have him inside her cellar, bound and under her control. Jack watched her leave, locking the door. So many questions he had were dulled and no longer able to stay conscious, Jack shut his eyes.


"You don't remember anything else?"

Sitting on the edge of the driver's seat inside Jack's car, she irritably glanced at the state trooper. His pudgy face illuminated by numerous red flares lit near the accident area. "I told you, I blacked out," and she added abrasively, "You see the bruise on my forehead?"

"Yes, Ms. O'Brian, I see the bruise. We just wanted to make sure if there's anything else you could possibly remember."

Chloe shivered and crossed tense arms across her chest. "All I know is what I've already told you. Someone shot at one of the tires. The car hit the tree and when I woke up, Jack was gone."

Two vehicles, what looked like small black limos screeched and halted in back of several police cars. Chloe surmised who it was. She knew once the police had alerted them, it wouldn't be long before they came. Secret Service agents exited from their limo. Then more agents along with Secretary Heller and Audrey stepped out of their car. They hurried toward Chloe.

"Are you all right?" asked Heller.

Chloe nodded.

Wrapping the silk burgundy shawl around her shoulders, Audrey said, "Do you have any idea of who would do something like this?"

Frustrated at the same constant questions, Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. "No." Suddenly Chloe's lips fell and her face had gone chalk-white. Everything going on, it didn't hit her then, but now…the caller. "Is it possible this person kidnapped Jack?" she pondered to herself. "But how would he know we were here unless…is it possible he bugged my house? Who are you? Who are you!"

"Chloe?"

Heller's voice jolted her back to where she desperately wanted to escape. Tired of sitting in a demolished car; of the unfriendly chill in the air, and the torment of not knowing where Jack was. She looked up into Heller's face, noting his concern and at the same time, confusion and doubt. Chloe knew it was because of her expression from the sudden recall.

He told her, "Are you sure you don't know anything else?"

She lied. "No." Her eyes skirted to Audrey who stared at her doubtfully. Instead of rolling her eyes, Chloe huffed inwardly in response to Audrey's expression. She then ignored her and said to Heller, "I'm afraid whoever this is--," O'Brian stopped and shivered.

"Don't worry," Heller assured Chloe and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him." He paused and studied the ruddy bruise and a deep cut above her right eye. "You should get that checked out."

"I'm okay."

"I insist," he said sternly but not callous, rather like a concerned father. "I'll have my security take you to the ER and then back to the hotel."

Chloe nodded again. She willingly rose from the seat; Heller by her side and guiding her toward the Secret Service vehicle. Again he assured her. "Everything will be all right."

One of the agents opened the car door and she lowered herself inside. Another one sat next to her and two seated themselves in the front. As the limo slowly veered away, Chloe sneaked one more glance at Jack's Lexus. Heller's voice came back in memory…

"Everything will be all right."

She wanted to believe it, shutting her eyes to keep the stinging tears from pushing their way through the corners. And in the process of doing that, her injury throbbed again. Jack almost lost her and it frightened her greatly to think something terrible had happened to him. Chloe knew he always managed to get himself out of the most dangerous situations, like a cat with nine lives. And yet her stomach felt tight with anxiety and fear.

"We'll find him."

Chloe had been certain Heller would do everything in his power to find Jack. But Chloe refused to wait. Whoever this person is, they have Mike's cell phone. O'Brian's gut told her it's someone who knew Mike—someone who knew Jack had killed him.


Bauer groggily opened his eyes. It was as if someone forced his head down but despite the heavy-weight feeling, he managed to lift his head from the back of the seat. The room was like a merry-go-round. He had enough, wanting to step off and when he had done so, the room stopped spinning. The pain had mercy on him for the moment. Jack anticipated its fury again, though it had been a blur as to why it was injured. He gingerly turned his head to the left where Lizzie sat in a chair against the wall. She crossed her legs. A low-heeled red shoe dangled from her foot. She watched him with a hatred he had seen before…in Nina and so many other faces that plagued him day and night.

"Who are you?"

Every now and again she puffed on a cigarette; nonchalantly, Lizzie let the smoke roll from her glossy lips. She then smothered the cigarette into an ashtray, picked up a glass of water and walked toward Jack. "Thirsty?"

He stubbornly kept silent but when Lizzie put the rim of the glass against his parched lips, he sipped some of the liquid. "Good," she said with a smile and placed the glass on the table beside him.

Disoriented, Jack mumbled, "What day is it?"

"It's Saturday morning," she paused to look at her watch. "Ten o'clock."

"Saturday--," his voice trailed off and then Jack recalled the gunfire, the accident…waking up in the cellar with a broken arm. Chloe. She must be worried sick about his disappearance. Jack had to get out…somehow. Angrily he said, "I have to use the bathroom."

Lizzie turned back to other table against the wall and picked up a bed pan.

He smirked. "You gotta be kidding me?"

"I can't let you use the bathroom. Don't worry, I was a nurse and I promise to take care of you if you behave. I'll take off the handcuffs and wait outside by the door. It'll be open just enough for me to see and if you try anything, I won't hesitate to shoot."

As she was about to take off the cuffs, Jack gritted his teeth. "Don't touch me."

She looked at him, hesitating in thought. Her eyes narrowed. "You don't need to use the bathroom." Lizzie marched back to the table and grabbed something else—a gun. She spun around and the next thing Jack knew, he felt cold metal digging into the side of his left temple. "You're misbehaving Jack. I can't allow that or else I'll kill you right now. No tricks and I'll keep you alive; give you heroin and everything else you want."

Jack wondered how she had known about his heroin addiction. That was kept discreetly secret except from Chloe and everyone else at CTU.

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded.

Lizzie removed the gun away from his head and when she placed it back on the table, she picked up the chair and sat in front of Jack. She leaned forward with elbows perched on her knees and hands locked together. "I had a twin brother. We were close y'know, like twins are. Our family and friends thought we were too close because, well, I hated when he dated women. He promised that wouldn't happen and we'll always be together. He lied. I remember meeting her and I knew she'd be trouble for him. He told me she was hurting him and I told him what to do."

Jack's eyes widened. It all made sense now…why she looked so familiar. "Mike? He was your brother?"

Lizzie straightened in the chair. Her face lit up and she grinned, a deviant grin that was eerily disturbing. "Yes, Michael Dawson," she answered sardonically. "Remember that day?" Her grin suddenly faded. "You killed him."

"He would've killed Chloe if I didn't stop him."

"She--," Lizzie shouted; her pale face marred with bitterness. Her frigid eyes wide with hate. "She hurt him. She lied to him and deserved to die." Lizzie leaned closer and her voice was now a notch lower, almost a whisper. "He told me she didn't love him. There was someone else. I know that someone else is you, Jack. Well--," she grinned again. "Now I have you."

Enraged, Jack fidgeted in the chair and winced at the pain revisiting his arm.

"It hurts? Aww, it's okay, Jack. I'll make sure you're feeling better again. This time I'll give you more."

Jack eyed her hatefully and rolled his hands into clenched fists. "Hmm," she added, "I wonder what Chloe would think if she knew you're here with me. I can find out."

"I thought you said she wasn't here?"

"She's not."


Chloe ordered breakfast inside her hotel room. On top the wooden bed tray was a plate boasting the special of the day: a stack of half-eaten buttermilk pancakes and sausages. Chloe had been too worried about Jack to finish the rest. With a lilac satin robe wrapped around her naked form, she frantically paced the room, biting her lip and thinking. O'Brian suddenly froze at the hasty ringing of her cell phone. She snatched it from off the desk, flipped open the silver cover and answered, "Hello?"

Silence.

Agitated by the caller again, she yelled, "Hello!"

"I know you're worried about Jack," said a gruff male voice.

"Who is this?"

"He's safe and I'll let you see him. 622 Cambridge Road."

Before Chloe could utter another word, the conversation had been cut, leaving her with an open mouth and furrowed eyebrows. At first she thought of letting Heller know where Jack was but O'Brian decided she would go alone. She had to be there, even if it seemed unclear as to whether the caller was serious or taunting her with lies.

It hadn't taken her long to slip into a pair of gray trousers and a pink/gray floral cardigan. She had no time to mess with her hair, which had been brushed back into a messy ponytail. Chloe sat nervously inside the cab. Her eyes rolled irritably from the window to the middle-aged driver who rambled on about his life and other stuff she had absolutely no interest in hearing. She wished for a quiet driver or if it was someone talkative, he would at least know when to shut up when a passenger didn't respond much.

"The society today," the driver hesitated and shook his head flecked with gray. "It's sick. People are just…sick! They have no regard for life anymore. Yesterday morning, a homeless man was found with his head decapitated and I heard parts of his body were eaten. Whoever this whacko is, the police think it's one of those people, uh…cannibals, that's it."

Chloe huffed. That was the last thing she wanted to hear while headed to a place where Jack was supposedly kidnapped, not knowing if the situation had been a dangerous one. She didn't even have a weapon.

"Am I doing the right thing? Maybe I should've told Heller." Chloe snorted and silently added in frustration, "Jack."

"Miss, are you all right?" asked the driver. "I hope I'm not scaring you back there."

"I'm okay," Chloe replied quickly and went on to say, "Are we near the address?"

"Yeah, it's only two more blocks."

Chloe peered through the window again and noticed the area appeared run down and depressing compared to where she was staying at the hotel. She noted something else—a few people walking down the streets. Hopeless, exhausted faces, as if they struggled each day to stay alive amidst poverty. The cab's tires rolled to a slow halt.

"This is it?" said Chloe at an old, dingy house in the middle of the block.

"You told me 622 Cambridge Road, right?"

She nodded.

"Then this is it."

After Chloe paid the driver, she rushed out, relieved to be away from him but when she stood there looking at the small house, O'Brian felt her stomach tighten again. Chloe couldn't go back now. If Jack was inside, she wanted to know, even if it meant possible danger for her. Chloe pushed the wrought-iron gate and as it swung open, she proceeded down a short walkway. On both sides lay untidy grass and she stopped at three brick steps leading to a screen door. She clambered the steps, cautiously and quietly. Opening the screen door that creaked, Chloe reached for the doorbell and her hand stopped mid-way. The grimy white door had been left ajar, as if anticipating her arrival. By then, Chloe's heart pummeled hard and she wet her dry lips.

O'Brian pushed the door open. There was no foyer. She already found herself inside the tiny cluttered living room. "Hello?" Chloe didn't like this at all—the same eerie silence on the phone. She shuddered. Her eyes darted to the staircase and beneath it, what looked like a cellar door. Chloe took in another deep breath then proceeded again. Gingerly, her fingers twined themselves around the knob. It creaked louder than the screen door and when it had been wide open, Chloe barely noticed the steps inside the dim-lit cellar, but the dank odor hadn't gone unnoticed from her nostrils and a chill that pierced through her clothes and skin. Careful, she held onto the railing and eased down each step. When reaching the bottom, her eyes were wide with shock at what she saw—Jack spotlighted under the bulb; handcuffed and shackled to the chair. His head down. Terrified, she didn't know if he was dead or alive.

"Jack!" Chloe knelt in front of him and gently raised his sweaty face. He opened his eyes but it seemed Bauer struggled to keep them open. "Jack, oh God!"

"Chloe?" he muttered groggily. "Get—get out."

"No, I won't leave you here."

Alarmed, he repeated, "Chloe!"

Chloe hadn't been given the opportunity to say another word to Jack, but only a scream bellowed from her lungs when something stung the back of her neck. Whatever it was hit her system immediately. The dim light and Jack disappeared. Darkness had taken her again.

TBC