A few minutes passed and everything was set up. After moving to a more secluded room, Jack had managed to contact the FBI giving them all the information they need to generate the false evidence. A few more moments later, everything was already on Tony's phone, ready to be used. Noticing a message with the links, Tony checked them briefly and then started walking towards the door of the office where Burwell had been talking with Randall since his arrival, waiting for him to come out.
It didn't take long for the door to open. Burwell and Randall came out, apparently pretty satisfied by their conversation.
"Scott, can I talk to you for a minute?", asked Tony in a whisper.
Burwell look at him a little alarmed and confused.
"Sure", he replied, letting Tony come into the office and then coming back in himself again.
"Everything ok?", he asked after having shut the door.
"Not really", admitted Tony with a concerned look.
Immediately Burwell let flow out all the worries he had already perceived a moment before:
"Is it Rapp? I haven't seen him in a while, where is he?"
"He's having a problem with another client and he had to take the call, but he's not the one you should worry about", explained Tony.
"I don't get it", continued Burwell more confused.
"How well do you know Randall? Have you done business with him before?", began to test the waters Tony.
"No, but I did my search on him, he's ok. Why?"
"And what about his men, do you know them? Do you know the one with the scar on the face?"
"No, not really." Then, starting to get more upset, Burwell added: "Tony cut the crap, can you tell me what the hell it's going on? What's the problem with him?"
"The problem is he's a fucking rat!", exclaimed Tony with anger.
"What?! How do you know that?"
"I know because I met him years ago when I was at CTU. His name is Jason Turner and he was a cop working at LAPD. Look."
Then Tony extracted his phone from his pocket, digited something and showed the screen to Burwell. Burwell scrolled the internet article about a criminal, named Quentin Costa, who had given the "Glasgow smile" scar to a cop who tried to arrest him. The name of the cop was indeed Jason Turner and his picture didn't leave any other doubt about him.
"Mhm…ok, but there could be an explanation for this. You too were a federal agent", continued Burwell still not convinced.
"Yes, but I've come clean to you and you know my story. Ask him about his name and past, if he tells you what I've just showed you and how he got to the dark side, you can still believe him, but if he tells you anything else, you know what you have to do."
"Ok – said Burwell after a last thought – I will."
"Good", nodded Tony while heading for the door.
"Tony – stopped him Burwell before he could go out – Thanks for the tip. I knew that your federal agent past would come in handy some time."
"Yeah."
Burwell got back to the sitting room and joined Randall who was talking with two of his men, including the one with the scar.
"Mike – he said to Randall, who quickly turned to him – You still haven't introduced your men to me."
"I didn't think you would be interested, but no problem – he replied. Then he started pointing at them, saying apparently insignificant names, until he turned to the man next to him and added: "And he's Greg Scheckter."
Burwell studied him for a few second, trying to get from his eyes any possible sign of deception.
"That's a pretty bad scar you have. What happened?", he asked with nonchalance.
"It happened many years ago. A fucking agent tortured me for hours to make me break but I said nothing. I got 20 years in returned", Scheckter explained.
"Wow, kinda strange for an agent to do something so extreme, uh? He must have been pretty badass", Burwell inquired with a little laugh.
"You haven't seen that man, he was nuts – Scheckter continued, a little pissed off – He would have killed me if other agents didn't enter the room."
"Ok, ok…So, if you had a 20 years sentence, I guess you just got out from prison, right?"
"Yeah, six months ago. Why?", replied Scheckter more annoyed.
"So, there's nothing else about your past that you think we should know?" insisted Burwell.
"What? – Scheckter asked with growing confusion – I don't know what you're talking about."
"I see."
"Is there a problem here?", interrupted Randall, worried about all the questions.
"I don't know. How well do you know him?", asked Burwell turning to him.
"Well, I've known him from a couple of months. Why?"
"Because he just told me a big bunch of balls."
"What?", immediately reacted Scheckter, completely shocked.
"What the hell it's going on here?", Randall asked, unable to understand too.
"I have proof he was a cop at LAPD. And since he didn't admit it, I guess he still is."
"WHAT? That's not true, I swear!", shouted Scheckter, out of himself. Randall looked at him with disgust.
"But you didn't know anything, right?", Burwell asked to Randall with a mocking tone.
"I swear I had no idea, you gotta believe me Scott."
"Yeah, sure – said Burwell, while glancing at his men to come closer.
"That's not true, whoever told you so is lying, I swear!", Scheckter continued to defend himself, fearing Burwell's reaction.
"Get rid of them. Both.", Burwell order to his men, while they were taking Randall and Scheckter who were still trying to let their truth out.
Before they could point their guns at them, one of the other men of Randall pushed one of them to the ground and started shooting. Instantly a firefight burst out. Hearing the gun shots, Tony got back to the room and began shooting at Randall's guys too.
During the shootout, one bullet hit Burwell in the left flank. Immediately, Tony reached him to help, dragging him behind a sofa. Hearing the mess that was happening to the other room, also Jack got there to help, taking one of the guns left on the ground by the dead hostiles.
After a few minutes, everything was quiet again. Both Randall's and Burwell's men were dead, lying on the living room floor. Burwell was still in pain, behind the sofa, with a hand on his wound.
"We can't stay here – said Tony to both Jack and Burwell – With a rat in Randall's men, the police can burst in any minute."
"Yeah, we gotta move out", agreed Jack. Burwell nodded and the three of them got out of the house, headed to Jack's car. Jack helped Burwell, who was limping, to get to the car and then sit with him in the back seat, while Tony took the driving seat.
"Where do we go?", asked Tony to Burwell.
"Do you remember the safehouse we used when we closed the deal with the German?", Burwell replied.
"Yeah."
"We can use that for now."
"A'ight."
Tony started driving. In the back seat, Jack came closer to Burwell.
"Let me see the wound", Jack said before looking at it. After a while, he resumed talking:
"All right, the bullet went through without hitting any vital organ or artery. You'll be fine if we managed to stop the bleeding."
"Ok – agreed Burwell – In the safehouse we have some first aid kit."
"Yeah…Listen – resumed Jack – If one of Randall's men was indeed working with the police, our deal could be compromised really fast. We've gotta close it and get away as soon as we can. Where is the uranium?"
"You said it, if the police know about this, it's too risky to go on now. We'd better postpone until the waters settle."
"No, the more we wait, the more they'll gather information. We've gotta do it now or we may not be able to close it again."
"I don't know –
"Listen – interrupted Jack more upset – I'm not gonna give up this deal. So, either you're gonna take me where the material is and we finished it now or, I swear, that I'm gonna make you talk in the worst possible way and I'm gonna get the uranium anyway."
Jack began pressing on his wound while Burwell started to pant in pain.
"Trust me, you don't wanna mess up with me", Jack whispered at his ear, in a brooding tone.
"I don't know who you really are, Rapp, but you're really naïve if you think that I'm gonna give up half a billion dollars after some physical threat. I've been in the UK special forces."
Jack immediately hit him very hard on the wound making him scream.
"You're right, you don't know me. Because if you did, you wouldn't dare me to prove how much pain you can endure. Whether you've been in special forces or not", threatened him Jack while keeping pressing on the wound. Burwell just looked at him panting harder, trying to suffocate his scream in order to not give it up to him.
"Jack, what the hell are you doing?! – said Tony glancing in the mirror – Stop it!"
Jack ignored him and hit Burwell harder, forcing him to scream again.
"Jack!", repeated Tony more upset.
Jack backed off, letting Burwell catch his breath for a while.
"All right", Jack whispered.
Then, he suddenly pulled out his gun and pointed it at Burwell.
"Right now you have a very important choice to make – Jack said to him, pressing the gun on his temple – You can choose to gain half a billion bringing us where the uranium is or you can choose to have a bullet smashing your skull and going throughout your brain. Choose wisely."
Burwell glared at him with confusion and shock.
"If you kill me, you'll get nothing", he stated.
"Yeah. But you'll be dead. Who do you think will lose the most?", replied Jack with confidence.
Burwell studied him for a few seconds, trying to understand if he was serious. He damn was.
"Ok. I'll arrange the deal, but I can't bring you to the uranium right now."
Jack immediately removed the safety and pushed the gun harder on his head.
"WAIT!", Burwell shouted by instinct. Then, in a calmer tone, he added:" The reason I can't bring you there, is because I still don't know where it is."
"YOU SAID YOU HAVE IT!", yelled Jack with anger.
"I'LL HAVE IT SOON! – screamed back Burwell – I was going to finish the exchange tonight or tomorrow at most, in time to conclude the deal with Randall. This before you two showed up."
"You son of a bitch, you sell something that you still don't have! WHO IS YOUR CONTACT?", continued Jack more pissed off.
"He's a Russian guy. His name is Misha Golubev, I can call him to see if we can have the material tonight."
"Oh, you'll do better that that. We're going to him right now", replied Jack with a grin.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?"
"Because he lives at the Russian Embassy. He's the Russian ambassador", confessed Burwell.
Jack stared at him in shock for a few moments, then glanced at the mirror seeing in Tony's eyes the same concerned look.
"Then you'd better start thinking about how you're gonna convince him to meet us, because we're going to the Embassy now", concluded Jack.
Then, he exchanged another look with Tony, who prepared to lead them to the new itinerary.
