4:01 PM
"Jack, what now?" Chloe breathed.
He extracted his cell phone and hit at the buttons, glancing around to be sure they were still alone.
"Who are you calling?" she murmured, distantly.
"CTU."
Chloe hesitated in confusion. He had just told her they couldn't be bothered by CTUs protocols if they wanted to stop David's plan and now he was contacting them? She remained silent, though, certain that Jack's reasoning must be sound.
"Manning here," Curtis answered his personal phone.
"Curtis, I'm at a storage facility just outside of the Port of L.A. Emerson has crates of C-4 here; you need to send a team down in case he sends reinforcements."
"Jack, what the hell are you doing? Weston told you to go home."
"I can't. Not yet. Just get someone down here, now." He snapped the phone shut and took Chloe's arm in hand, leading her away from the dangerous explosives. "Come on; we need to be gone when they get here."
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know yet," he admitted. His cell phone rang to life and he exhaled, annoyed at Curtis' persistence. With a curt, "Yeah?" he answered but slowed when the other voice responded.
"Director Bauer," David greeted. "I had no idea CTU was so hands-on that they would send the director himself into the field on a mission."
Chloe watched Jack stop in his tracks and his face hardened. She questioned, "Who is it?"
He glanced at her but remained silent when David continued. "No, this must be something else entirely."
"What do you want?" Jack snapped.
"I want what you took from me," he murmured calmly yet Jack sensed the underlying hostility in his tone.
"You're never going to touch her again." The emotional growl brought a satisfied smile to David's face.
"So this IS personal. To be honest, I didn't really think she was many people's type. I didn't anticipate a boyfriend."
Jack felt he should correct him – it wasn't wise to further aggravate a man who may be in possession of serious weapons - but his gut made him remain silent.
"But I think the odds are in my favor. Looking at your track record, I mean. Widowed, closest friends murdered, even your last girlfriend was killed. You're not very good at protecting people, Jack."
"Try me."
"Jack?" Chloe whispered, urging him to keep moving but David's steady tone drew his attention again.
"Do you think you can stop me from getting to Chloe again? And once I get her, do you know what I'm going to do to her?"
"When this is over, you son of a bitch, you're going to regret ever meeting me. I'm through letting CTU run their investigation on you; I'm coming after you myself."
A shot suddenly rang out and Jack whirled towards its direction, drawing his own pistol. It allowed his back to face the entrance, however, and a heavy blow to the head came from behind him.
"Jack!" Chloe yelled when she saw him sink to his knees from the surprise attack.
David snapped the safety off his gun as he stood in the entrance and he aimed at the back of Jack's head, admitting, "This was easier than I thought it would be."
Jack's elbow flew back into David's stomach and he shoved at his arms, knocking the gun away. He lurched up in a dizzy and held David's shoulders as he propelled his knee into the man's middle. David doubled over but effectively punched at Jack's chest, disengaging the two.
When he realized he had stumbled near Chloe, he snatched her promptly and from his waistband a knife suddenly appeared. Jack froze at the sight of a blade to Chloe's throat, David wobbling unsteadily behind her.
"David, what are you doing?" she snapped angrily.
"Chloe, sweetheart, you know I normally love your quirks but right now, shut up!"
"You're not going to hurt me," she stated as a matter-of-fact, despite the sharpness at her collar. "You need me."
"Let her go!" Jack yelled, wishing his gun had not slid away during the scuffle.
"Chloe, I do need you," David breathed, still watching Jack before he firmly kissed at her temple. He gazed at her unfocused profile and finished, "I just don't need you conscious right now."
"No!" Jack could not contain the exclamation or the visuals that sprung in his mind at the thought of David hurting her.
"Jack, you either let us walk out of here, or you make me do something to Chloe."
"You sick bastard," he muttered, furiously.
"Sticks and stones," David hummed then shifted the knife to the side of her back. "Get away from the door."
Jack hesitated in indecision and Chloe spoke. "Don't, Jack; he won't hurt me." David's eyes remained tightly on Jack's own while he threateningly pressed the knife harder. The shocked yelp from her clenched Jack's fists and he understood more about David Emerson than Chloe ever had.
"Back away," David instructed, recognizing Jack understood exactly what he was capable of. Something forced Jack to remain, however, and he regretted it the moment he saw David's eyes change, knowing his bluff was called.
The actual sound of the knife driving into her flesh was minimal but her shriek was almost tangible.
"Chloe!" Jack screamed as she fell to her knees, the agony explicit in every cry. He moved without thought, charging at David. His powerful right connected with his face and though he wanted to beat the man into the ground, the sight of blood gathering on Chloe's shirt as she trembled and whimpered brought him to a dead stop.
He breathed her name as he knelt next to her but David's movement out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. Jack spotted his missing weapon and snatched it up. He discovered David also set on obtaining his own gun but an opportunity presented itself and Jack aimed. A direct hit at the fire extinguisher near David caused an immediate explosion, knocking the man into the wall. His body crumbled to the ground.
Jack restrained his curse; Emerson was no good dead and CTU was on its way. They would deal with him.
His concentration returned to Chloe as he carefully helped her to stand and hurry to the car.
Once inside, he sped out, desperate to stop her cries of pain. She took in deep breaths to calm herself enough to speak. "Where are we going?"
"The hospital," he replied as though that were obvious.
"No! CTU still thinks I'm working with David; they'll have the hospitals monitored. They'll just take me into custody."
"We'll explain it to them, Chloe; this is too important. You're seriously wounded!"
"No, Jack!"
He pounded at the steering wheel, wishing she didn't think like him so much sometimes. If they were going to stop David, they couldn't do that with her in custody. Then again, in her condition, maybe their pursuit was already over. With a side glance, he watched her rock forward gently and the blot on the seat cushion indicated just how much blood she was losing. She was trying to hold it in and not cry out but the muted pangs in her voice were almost worse because he knew she was doing it for him.
Jack pulled into the first motel he found safe enough and promptly ushered her into a rented room. She settled on the bed carefully as he returned quickly with the front desk's First Aid kit.
Chloe hugged herself tightly, trying to focus on anything other than the pain streaking from that puncture in her back. She decided on Jack to focus on. He threw the kit on the bed and she watched his lithe hands coerce it open and tear at the bandages. When he glanced at her, he looked away almost immediately.
"Can you take your shirt off or do you need me to-"
"No, I can," she murmured, wondering how she was lucky enough to add embarrassment on to the bill of her current suffering.
He helped her any way when it appeared she could not shift one direction. Jack slipped the sleeve down and tossed the light sweater aside. Her trembling arms came, self-consciously, around her, shielding as much as she could of her bareness. He noticed the simplicity of her bra before he forced himself to settle behind her to inspect the wound. When he applied pressure to the cut, she hissed and jolted upright.
His free hand steadied her, resting at her other side as he murmured, "I know. I just have to clean it before we can wrap it."
She took slow breaths, realizing his calm, low voice actually eased her nerves. "I didn't think he would really do it."
Zeroing in on David's handiwork, he admitted to himself it was not a wound meant to kill; if he wanted to inflict maximum damage, he would have cut her open. A stab was easier to close and heal. Though Chloe thought David meant her real harm, Jack knew it was an empty threat.
He smoothed a damp cloth down her skin and noticed the bleeding already slowed. Chloe's sharp pain had faded to a dull ache while he cleaned the injury. Or maybe her mind just perceived it as less because her thoughts intentionally focused on a distraction – his hands – instead. The left hand, not yet busy with dressing, stayed positioned at her other side and she distinctly felt every pad of his fingers pressed into her. She mused that Jack had never touched her this long before. The fact that she collected the amount of times Jack had touched her in her memory drew a furrowed brow of mortification to her face and she hid her reddening self. He was trying to help her and she was marveling at the sensation of his palm on her naked skin.
"Okay, I'm going to wrap it," Jack murmured, careful to not break the quiet of the room. "How are you doing?"
"Okay," she admitted.
"We might be able to find some pain killers," his thoughts wandered as he rolled out the gauze.
"That's okay."
Jack looked up at her finally, facing her back. He knew she was trying to be strong in front of him and it simultaneously made him ashamed of himself and proud of her. His eyes fell to her nearly naked back and he realized he wanted to splay his hand across it; make sure she was real and solid next to him.
Mentally shaking himself, he continued, wrapping the bandage around her midriff. She stiffened lightly when his fingers traced about her stomach and she waited with anticipation at where he would accidentally touch next. The silence finally got to her and she had to fill it with something; the unspoken between them – that which they thrived on for the past several years – was not enough any longer.
"Thank you, Jack," she stated suddenly. He slowed and she tacked on, "For coming to get me."
He paused, uncomfortable with appreciation, and he breathed only, "Yeah."
"I mean, you took a lot of risks," she went on. They were opposite in that regard: when she felt awkward, she rambled. He, on the other hand, shut down. "You could have just sent a unit out for me. But you didn't."
Jack made another round with the gauze and when she said it out loud, he understood a fact that she probably wasn't even making. He hadn't sent anyone out for her. He dropped everything and he hadn't even thought twice about it.
"You needed help," he vocally shrugged.
"Yeah," she replied then turned her head to see him. "Thanks."
Jack held her eyes for a moment, seeing an emotional honesty there they rarely showed one another. He had to break that hold, his own expressive barometer long out of service, and responded, "Yeah."
Inspecting the final dressing, he adjusted it slightly asking, "How's that?"
"Fine."
Turning to a more comfortable seat on the edge of the bed, she realized her front was in full view and she crossed her arms before her as casually as possible. Jack's eyes unintentionally fell to the movement and, coincidentally, to her chest before he forced himself to look away.
"I'll go wash your sweater," he murmured.
"Jack?" He had started to stand until her voice stopped him and he faced her. "They're going to get him, right? I mean, you told CTU where he was and they're going to arrest him."
Despite her show of strength, she could not hide the waver in her voice and he responded, quiet but confidently. "They'll get him eventually. And I won't let him hurt you again."
He moved with a natural grace, mirroring the sentiment of his words with action: his hand smoothed her hair aside from her face and hesitated there, reassuring her with the permanence of his touch.
She wasn't breathing. She had stopped breathing at some point. It was when his eyes softened and his voice turned to some gentle timber she had only seen him use with those others. Not with her. Never with her.
After two blinks, he pulled away, as though realizing how intimate the contact was; how open and vulnerable he was. He stood, muttering, "I'll clean your sweater."
And Chloe inhaled.
…
5:00:00
