Tired from what had been a long drive, Nina had found a secluded area to park up and rest. A few minutes later, she was leaning against the door and looking up at the sky. Her thoughts floated to the possibility of something beyond those scattered white islands. Of course, she was in no hurry to find out for herself but her current situation had some relation to the question.
The area around her was deathly silent, punctuated only by the rare sound of animals in the distance. Peace reigned here, an unusual experience for a woman ruled by war. Of course, the circumstances that had led her there were unusual ones. Her eyes moved from the sky above to the ground below, to the man lying near the car. Unlike her, he now knew what laid in wait for those no longer living. Crouching down, she began to examine him almost in the manner of a forensic scientist. She noted that he was a white male, likely in his thirties with light brown hair and hazel eyes. His clothes were American and the money in his wallet was Moroccan. The ID he carried was American and looked real, although she had seen many convincing fakes. Standing back up, she pulled out her phone and dialled a number.
Almost as soon as her contact spoke, she was seeking answers. "I need you to find out everything you can about an American. Joel Oakley, born first November 1970," she asked. If the man was here on behalf of Jack, she would have to leave the country as soon as possible. Ending the call, she wondered if this Oakley even had any connections to the US government? Had she panicked and shot some innocent tourist? Not that Nina Myers was squeamish about killing, but she had always been able to justify doing so each time she did. If there was a reason for Oakley's death that made sense to her, she could live with his death on her conscience. Otherwise, the little voice in the back of her mind would get that little bit louder.
Moments later, the contact called back with information on the deceased man. Joel Oakley had been in the Army before working as a contractor for the CIA. No known links to either Jack or CTU, much to her relief. Thanking the contact and ending the call, Nina contemplated the information. Satisfied that he wasn't some tourist who had made a mistake, she still had questions. What had he been up to? Had he known who she was?
Hers was the only car on the road as she travelled back to Tangier. She had been meeting with a contact who could get her to Europe without alerting the US government. She was currently a few miles outside of a village not too far from the city when a fast-moving car came up behind her. Keeping a close watch, she had done all she could to confirm that he wasn't a threat she needed to remove. That included driving onto a dirt road to see if he followed her down it. When he did, she took the first chance she got to park up before grabbing her gun from the front passenger seat. Cocking it, she watched him approach her car. As soon as he had made it to her door, she had shot him through the open window. For a moment or two, she sat there in silence as she considered her next move. Opening the door and climbing out, she dragged his corpse and managed to get him into the trunk of her car. Setting off as soon as she could, she drove further down the dirt road away from the junction with the highway. Miles and hours later, she had reached the secluded area where the mystery man would rest.
Deciding not to waste any more time on thoughts, she walked to the trunk and pulled out a shovel. This wasn't the first time she had buried a body and she was sure it wasn't going to be the last. Glancing around, she hoped that nobody would come along before she had finished her work. Beginning to carve out the shallow grave, she couldn't help but recall the first time she had to bury a body.
She had been working at CTU now for four years and at her other job for almost as long. So far, the latter occupation had been uneventful but now things were going to escalate. They wanted her to prove her loyalty and show that she was willing to go as far as they needed to. At first, she had been curious about this - hadn't she been loyal so far? They had gotten plenty of useful information thanks to her so wasn't that proof? She had concluded that they must want her to do more than simple information gathering. As they guided her into a large tent in the middle of the Mojave desert, she saw that her conclusion was correct. Her eyes went straight to the bound man who knelt in the centre of the tent. She had never even killed for CTU due to not being a field agent. Now her other bosses wanted her to cross a line she had never even considered crossing. She stared at the man for a long time until someone placed a gun in her hands. It wasn't the first time she had held a weapon, far from it, but it still felt strange.
"You're a smart woman, Nina, you know what we expect," they had told her and the tone was clear. Someone was getting shot with this gun.
She fought the screaming urge to ask what the man had done wrong before lifting the gun to aim at his forehead. There had been a blindfold over his eyes, but now it was roughly removed and she couldn't help but stare into them. She noticed the pale green colour, almost the same as her own. Images of her father's face appeared in her mind and she felt sick. With the gun trembling in her hand, she stared at his forehead and was thankful that the man was looking down. Seconds later, a bullet crashed through the exact spot she had been looking at.
"Good work, Nina. See that shovel? Bury him where he lies," her boss commanded. Nodding, she passed the gun back to him before picking up the shovel. As she began to dig, she tried her best not to look at the body.
The call of an animal not too far away dragged her out of her thoughts. Looking around, she wondered if something out there could smell Oakley's blood. If that was the case, she had less time than she thought. Digging quicker, she soon had a hole about three feet deep and six feet long. More than enough for the dead man lying next to her. Almost exactly the same as that first grave she had dug all those years before.
"You should have stayed away," she muttered as she dragged the body into the hole. She was about to grab her shovel again before noticing something shiny glinting at the small of his back. Despite her search of his corpse earlier, she had not bothered to check that particular area. As soon as she had touched his shirt, she could tell that there was a gun tucked underneath his waistband. It both answered questions and raised them. Was he planning on killing her? If so, why? He wouldn't be doing it on Jack's behalf. No, Jack would want the pleasure all to himself, no way would he leave it to a hitman. What about CTU? Unless they knew of her meetings, they had no idea that she was planning on escaping North Africa. Sighing, she decided the questions could wait.
For a moment, she wondered if she ought to say a few words before dismissing the idea. Once she had finished filling in the grave, she stood there in silence for a few minutes. She had never been able to find out who the man in the tent had been or why he had to die, no matter how hard she looked. At least she knew the name of the deceased this time, even if it made him more human to her. Moving back to the trunk and throwing the shovel inside, she decided to get out of there. As she drove back towards the highway to Tangier, she locked Joel Oakley away in a little box deep inside her mind. It wasn't the first box she had stored in there and it wouldn't be the last.