Chapter Sixteen – Disenchanted

A/N: Hey guys! I'm so so so so sooooooooo sorry it's taken me this long to update. That wasn't the plan, I swear. Thank you so much to those who are still with me! I really appreciate all the reviews everyone has been leaving.

I'm still not entirely thrilled with this chapter but I'm posting because I don't think it's going to get much better without rewriting the whole thing. I'm right in the middle of exams now so no idea of when the next one will be up (not another 2.5 months though, promise ) and then for summer I'm thinking of doing something a little different. Normally I don't write during the summer but I have something more or less already written that I MAY be posting that's very different in terms of style from anything I've ever done before. Just as a heads up…

Thanks again for reading!

"Hey…" Rick rapped lightly on the glass of his brother's office and poked his head inside. Tony, who had the phone cradled between his chin and his shoulder, motioned him inside and held up a finger briefly before returning to his conversation.

"Yeah Ryan. I'm briefing everyone in 10 minutes on the new developments and we should have something for you by the end of the - "

"You really think that's practical?" Tony raised an eyebrow to the phone. As Ryan Chappelle's voice droned on about something that was completely irrelevant at that moment in time, but he seemed to think needed addressing. Tony glanced at Rick and offered a slight eye roll.

"Uh huh…" he mumbled finally. "Yeah. I'll keep you posted. Okay."

"What's up?" Tony said after he'd placed the phone back on his desk.

"I'm finished with Baker. He gave me the rundown on everything. Nice guy…"

"Good. We've got an active protocol. There's a briefing in the Conference room in ten."

"Alright, you want me to let everyone know?"

"I sent a message over the server. Just be there."

Rick groaned exasperatedly as he turned to leave.

"Yeah, yeah."

As Rick descended down the staircase he glanced around the bullpen. Since being introduced to the office officially that morning he'd been receiving more than a few looks. Chloe O'Brian wasn't happy with the arrangement and he already anticipated a few problems with her taking orders from him. Tom Baker had been decent enough, but upon entering the locker room that morning he'd gotten a lot of unimpressed stares. He wondered if it had anything to do with him being the same age as a lot of them. They didn't worry him. He knew by the end of his first operation any doubts on his ability to replace Jack Bauer would be assuaged.

Some of the analysts and Comm. didn't know what to make of him but with Michelle running the floor she was really the only reason he'd gone down there so far. She'd introduced him to Gael Ortega and they both insisted he let them know if he needed anything.

All he really needed was an operational objective and a hand gun and he'd be fine. He didn't manage people by befriending them or delegating or barking orders. He managed by example.

"Hey," she smiled brightly when he approached her station. Rick grinned.

"What's goin' on?"

"Division sent over some matrices that need to be reformatted for our systems." She explained without taking her eyes off the computer screen. She typed busily for a few seconds before turning her chair to face him completely.

"How are you?"

"I just thought I'd inform you personally that there's a meeting in the Conference room in ten…active protocol or something."

"Didn't Tony send out a memo?" she raised an eyebrow. Rick grinned.

"Well…I dunno about him but I think you deserve more than just a memo."

She laughed. "Flattery will get you nowhere. What do you want?"

Rick shifted his eyes slightly.

"Just uh…if you hear anything about me having drinks later with Kirsten in IT…disregard it…"

Michelle's eyes widened slightly. "You've been here less than a day!"

He shrugged innocently. "What can I say…I thought I was rusty but uh…guess not…"

"And I'm lying to Tony?"

"Not lying…" he insisted. "If he asks you flat out if I'm having drinks with someone from work then yes, tell him…just don't y'know…offer up the information."

Michelle rolled her eyes.

"So if we get out of here at a reasonable hour tonight, should I expect you home at all?"

"I don't do the sleepover thing." He brushed her off and she looked slightly taken aback.

"Seriously, Michelle. You don't even wanna know how long it's been…it'll just be one night and I promise I won't make a habit of sleeping with coworkers. Besides, she works in IT worse comes to worse I have to work with her directly once a week."

"And she knows it's only one night?"

"I just met her three hours ago…if she's thinking anything else that's not my problem…"

Michelle sighed heavily. "You can't keep doing this. It's not healthy…for them or you."

"Look after tonight…I'll give it a rest until I'm out of your place, okay? I promise."

She hesitated. What could she do really? "Okay…"

"Thanks. I owe ya."

"Alright, settle down. We got a lot to cover." Tony's voice resonated across the room just as Rick slipped into a chair directly across from Michelle at the end of the table closest to the bullpen. Tony did not sit down, instead he inclined his head towards Michelle who had her laptop open and was staring at the screen. A few seconds later a picture appeared on the large monitor of a man and woman wearing casual looking clothing. The woman had a pair of sunglasses on her forehead and both had bags at their feet.

"This is Douglas and Jenna Graham. They're American-born business owners with an independent consulting firm based out of Connecticut. They left last week for a meeting in England and landed in LAX this morning on a layover…"

Rick glanced up from the briefing packet Chloe O'Brian had handed him a minute before and snorted.

"Seems a little bit out of the way…"

Michelle nodded her agreement and continued.

"Incidentally, Jenna Graham's old classmate from business school, Ahmed Salam is suspected of involvement with a new terrorist group Langley's only been acquiring information on for the past few months. The CFO of their company, Larry Macri, also resides in LA and data on Salam's group suggests they received a rather large donation through some back channels."

A picture of Salam meeting with two dark figures clothed completely from head to toe appeared on the screen.

"LAPD is working out getting us a warrant but uh…that might not be in place when we make contact with the CFO. Our goal is to try and get him to cooperate because there's a good chance that him being that high up in the company he's well aware of any dealings with Salam. With the Graham's in LA at this point, we want to monitor them until we can get something concrete and then bring them in for questioning." Tony finished.

"Do we have any idea what Salam did with the money he received?" Gael asked, his fingers massaging the side of his face delicately.

"Langley's got people on him but so far, nothing." Michelle explained. "At this rate, our best bet is to bring in the Grahams."

"Rick, I want you to get Baker and a few guys for backup and get ready to go the company headquarters. Michelle's going with you in case Macri lets you pull stuff off the computer."

Rick stared at his brother for a second before nodding.

"Yeah…sure…I'll be ready in five."

"I'll meet you in Field Ops." Michelle stated as she too rose from her chair and went to change while Rick went to prep the team.

"Hey…" Tony caught Michelle on her way through the bullpen heading down to Field Ops.

She paused and looked at him expectantly. Things hadn't exactly been tense the last few days, but it was obvious there was something between them. Having Rick around had made things less uncomfortable, but it had also meant they hadn't been forced to resolve anything. Tony had been a little distant since his Nina-dream and he knew it, and made a promise to himself that he'd remedy it after today.

"Just uh…you're armed right?"

She nodded slightly. "Yeah, of course."

"Good." He nodded gruffly. "Stick with Rick, alright? When you go to meet with Macri…he might panic or something."

She inclined her head gently. "I will."

"Gael's running Comm."

"I know. I set him up a minute ago."

Tony looked a little embarrassed and clawed at the side of his face.

"Right."

Michelle smiled and touched his arm briefly.

"We'll see you in a bit."

" 'Kay."

"Alright Dessler, I know you're good at this computer crap, but when was the last time you were in the field?" Rick asked as he pulled the car onto the road. He and Michelle were riding in one vehicle while Baker had taken backup in another. He had sensed a slight discomfort on her part; something he would likely not have noticed did they not spend ample time together at home now.

She smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. She'd been in the field several times in her career but she always got nervous every time she went. His relaxed attitude put her at ease and she also knew (even without having seen him in action) if she had to go into the field with someone, Rick Almeida probably made her top three.

"Maybe eight months ago." She shrugged it off. "But uh…don't worry, I don't need you to baby sit me."

Rick laughed. "I believe you…but in the event that something does happen I'll be in for the beating of my life so uh…don't be too offended if I keep an eye on ya while we're out there."

She laughed. "I'll try not to be."

Rick grinned and hesitated briefly before squeezing her shoulder.

"You're okay, right?"

"Oh yeah." She assured him. "I mean, I always get a little nervous with this kinda stuff because it's not like I do it everyday but…I'll be fine." She didn't feel silly admitting it to him for some reason. In fact, she felt a bit better.

"Well listen…" he glanced briefly over his shoulder as he changed lanes before turning back to Michelle. "This isn't gonna be a big deal and I know you've got field training and everything and you're probably some sort of superstar and are gonna make me feel like an idiot but just in case…" he lowered his voice for no apparent reason.

"I got you covered, alright?"

Michelle smiled, and said nothing.

"We're here to see Macri." Rick inquired in such a way Michelle had to contain a laugh. Here they were, ten feet away from the CFO of some prestigious company and formal titles still weren't in order. It was the kind of thing his brother would've done. Rick's arms folded across his chest. The young secretary blushed and tucked her hair behind her cheeks as his dark eyes hardened on her light hazel ones. Michelle almost groaned aloud. Even when he wasn't trying Rick got attention it seemed.

"Is he expecting you, sir?" she flashed a bright smile, leaning forward slightly.

"Our office called twenty minutes ago. We're with CTU-LA." He obviously wasn't drawn to her tastefully accented cleavage or strawberry blonde locks. At least not while on the job. Her pink mouth curved downward slightly into a frown. She hadn't even glanced at Michelle yet.

"Certainly, sir." She pressed a button on the intercom and announced their presence to the man in the other room. Macri's voice echoed asking them to be sent in.

The girl inclined her head towards the closed door.

"You can go on in."

Rick held out an arm, indicating for Michelle to lead the way before inclining his head briefly at the girl and mumbling a casual 'thanks'.

"Mr. Macri?" Michelle stated crisply as they stepped inside the office. It was a spacious room on the 15th floor of the building with a view of downtown LA. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the dark furniture as a middle-aged man with clean features and a pleasant looking face rose to greet them. His brow was furrowed with concern as he stared between Michelle and Rick.

"I'm Agent Dessler." Michelle told him briefly as she placed her laptop on an empty chair and moved towards the center of the room.

"This is Agent Almeida."

Handshakes were exchanged and Macri offered them a seat. Michelle accepted, folding her legs neatly beneath as Rick slid into the one beside her, eyes still focused on Macri.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" he directed the question at Michelle who declined. Rick said nothing still. This made Macri even more uneasy and he fidgeted a little, attempting to loosen his tie.

"So, tell me what I can do for you…"

Rick handed Michelle the briefcase which she placed firmly on Macri's desk, flipping it open to reveal a stack of files.

"I understand you work for the Graham's."

"That's right." Macri nodded politely. "For almost twelve years now. Your office said there was a problem…"

"When was the last time you saw either of them?"

Macri considered this for a second, before shrugging uncertainly.

"They spend most of their time on the East Coast. The last recollection I have is at the beginning of the summer quarter."

"And your firm deals with business consulting…"

"Yes. I've known Jenna since we did our Master's. When I was laid off years ago their business was just getting started and they recruited me."

"What kind of work do you do?" Rick finally spoke, his voice monotonous, almost bored.

Macri looked startled by the sound coming out of him, as though he hadn't realized Rick could speak

"I'm sorry?"

Rick glanced at Michelle in mock surprise. "Did you not understand the question?"

Macri's eyes narrowed. "I thought that'd been established. We're a consulting firm. Our goal is to help other businesses maximize their profit margins."

"What kinds of businesses?"

"Our list of clientele is private, Mr. Almeida. I'm sure you understand." Macri sounded defensive now. "If you have a warrant for that kind of information I'd be happy to provide with the appropriate documents."

The air of the room could've been cut with a knife, but Rick never flinched. Michelle glanced at him briefly before seizing the opportunity.

"Mr. Macri have you heard of Ahmed Salam?"

Macri looked surprised. "Yes. He was at school with Jenna and I. We rented a house together our last year."

"Are you aware of any transactions happening between your firm and Mr. Salam?"

"None whatsoever. Jenna and I haven't spoken to Ahmed in years. He left the country."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Ireland, for work. He has no family in the country so traveling was never an issue for him."

"Where's he from?"

"Somewhere in the Middle East. Dubai maybe? Or Lebanon. I can never remember…I do know his family was all over the place."

"And to your knowledge this firm never sent him any money?"

"No." he stated firmly. "I'm the CFO of this company Ms. Dessler. If anything of substantial monetary value exchanged hands, I would know."

"I'm sure you would…" Rick muttered under his breath so only Michelle managed to catch what he had said. She glanced at him sideways and he nudged his head back towards the door.

"Can I see you for a minute?"

Michelle glanced at Macri and excused them as she followed Rick into the hallway. They spoke softly immediately outside the door of the office, leaving nothing to chance.

Rick almost laughed bitterly as soon as they were alone.

"That guy just threw himself under the bus…"

Michelle bit her lip. "Is it at all possible he really doesn't know about the money to Salam."

Rick looked surprised. "Michelle…" he stated flatly. "You heard him. He's Mr. Big-shot CFO and any money that changes hands he's gonna know about. His prints are all over this. If the Grahams were out of the country he probably made the transfer overseas himself. Besides, he's got some connection with both Jenna and Salam. There's no way he didn't know."

Michelle nodded. It all added up. Of course Macri would've known more than he was telling them. He was nothing more than well-rehearsed in avoiding trouble. Michelle lowered her voice slightly and inclined her body towards Rick.

"How do you want to proceed?"

Rick glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure the secretary wasn't watching them before asking for Macri's file.

"Four years in the army after high school…ten months stationed in the South Pacific…then he went to college." Rick snorted. "He'll break in twenty minutes."

Michelle stared as Rick snapped the file shut.

"Macri spent a few years in the army and has been sitting behind a desk for the last fifteen…he's cocky. He thinks he can handle whatever we throw at him. He won't psych himself out for an interrogation because he doesn't think we're allowed to push him that hard and we're underestimating him… He'll hold out without saying a word for maybe…uh…" he considered this. "I'm gonna say ten minutes and then it's just gonna keep getting worse and the first sound that comes out of his mouth is gonna be the confession… that's a guarantee, Dessler."

Michelle turned her body towards him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just back me up…if he gets desperate and tries to make a break for it take him out."

"Alright." Michelle reached for the door. "Lead the way."

Rick walked in lazily, surveying the spacious office for a few seconds. Larry Macri watched him intently.

"Well?" he snapped. "I'm a busy man. I don't have time for games."

Rick fought to contain an eye roll as he watched Michelle click the lock on the door shut. Macri's face tensed. Michelle just watched, her expression neutral.

Rick considered his options for a moment before approaching the desk and lifting the phone off the receiver. He studied it and then ripped the entire thing out of the jack in one fell swoop, dropping it back on the desk with a clatter.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Macri roared. "What gives you the right to deface my company's propert - "

"Sit down, Larry." Rick snarled without even glancing in the man's direction. He kicked the large swivel chair towards him and folded his arms as he waited. Macri didn't move. Rick sighed before reaching out with a single hand and throwing the Macri into the chair as though he were nothing more than a rag doll. As Macri gasped for breath Rick fished a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket and slapped them around of Macri's wrists and the arm of the chair.

"This is illegal!" Macri exclaimed furiously. "What are you gonna do? Beat a confession out of me? Anything I say under duress won't hold up in court anyway…"

Rick laughed harshly. "I couldn't care less if it holds up in court as long as you tell me what I need to know."

Macri stared at him with bewilderment.

"Hey Michelle," Rick called over his shoulder. "How long do you think it'll take you to hack into the computer?"

"I'll have to check out the system…"

Rick turned the laptop to face the other side of the desk and Michelle stepped in front of it, sitting down in the chair she had been in before.

"Do what you can."

"Sure."

"Alright Larry," Rick turned back around. "Agent Dessler is gonna access the files in your computer that show the money transfer from your company to Salam…" he crouched down. "So level with me…you're a busy guy and I'm a busy guy and I'm sure you've got some pretty fancy protection on your personal computer for just these kinds of circumstances that we will get through sooner or later… So while we're waiting for that to happen you and I are gonna see how we can be more productive…"

"Go to hell." Macri hissed.

"Why don't you just tell Agent Dessler how to access the files, show us the transfer and you can walk away from this whole thing without a scratch on you?"

Macri ignored him and Rick sighed disappointedly. He pulled Macri's blazer off the desk and wrapped it tightly over his mouth, gagging him. He then rose and took his time screwing the silencer on his pistol.

"How ya doin' there Michelle?" he called over his shoulder as he gave one final twist before snapping the clip loudly into place. Macri was sweating already.

Michelle bit her lip slightly.

"There's a pretty advanced encryption here. It could take a while."

"Can you interface with CTU? Get some help?"

"I'm calling now."

Rick waited until Michelle was off the phone and online with Chloe before he spun around and wordlessly fired a bullet directly into Macri's foot. Macri screamed in pain but it was muted by the gag. Michelle flinched, and her eyes wandered from the computer screen only for a second before she returned to her work.

"What do ya think?" Rick pulled the gag down. "Worth keeping your mouth shut?"

Macri moaned in pain.

"Y'know I can have a medic up here in five minutes…if you give us something concrete showing this company behind the transfer to Salam's account."

Macri continued to moan and the gag was returned to its original place. Rick cross the room towards Michelle and leaned over her.

"How we doing?" he asked quietly.

"Not good. No one's ever seen anything like this. It could take hours…days…he couldn't have done this himself…"

Rick glanced briefly at Macri who was pasty white. A small pool of blood was forming beneath his shoe and he groaned in agony.

"Alright…do what you can. He'll break soon."

"Hey Larry, how ya doin'?" Rick practically taunted, clasping him briefly on the shoulder. "Next time it won't be your foot…I can promise you that. Feel like helping us out yet?"

Rick was oblivious to the fact that Michelle's typing had increased in frequently at what was practically an alarming rate. Her fingers flew so fast across the keyboard they may as well as been a blur to anyone watching. Rick had just raised his gun level with the man's kneecap when she called out.

"What?!"

"I'm in. We solved the decryption."

Rick practically leapt over the desk towards her.

"Have you found anything?"

It was less than five minutes before Michelle pulled up the file they were looking for: documentation of an exchange in the excess of 300,000 US to an offshore account that Chloe and Gael had already traced back to Salam. Rick squeezed Michelle's shoulder warmly as she sent a copy of the file over to CTU before snapping the laptop shut. He flipped open his phone and dialed Baker.

"Larry, make sure you thank Agent Dessler before the medic brings you out of here…" Rick drawled sarcastically. "She just saved you a world of pain."

An almost unconscious Larry Macri was carried down to an ambulance on a stretcher as a very distraught looking receptionist watched. Baker's team secured the office and withdrew a few miscellaneous pieces of potential evidence as Rick called CTU to inform LAPD to pick up their main suspects.

Just as Rick was pulling their car into the parking garage, Tony was stepping through the doors of CTU to meet them.

"Chappelle just called." He explained as his brother and Michelle approached him. "Division was with LAPD when they apprehended the Grahams. They're being transported now for questioning."

Rick frowned. "We're not interrogating them?"

Tony shook his head. "Chappelle wants to do it."

"What about Macri?" Michelle pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. It felt like she'd been working for a lot longer than 10 hours.

"He's still at Cedars. Security is on the doors. As soon as they're done treating him we'll send someone in to ask him a few more questions but uh…I think he's given us pretty much everything valuable."

Both Rick and Michelle nodded simultaneously and Tony bit his lip before speaking.

"You guys did good." He declared softly.

Rick smiled a little and smacked Michelle affectionately on the back.

"I didn't do much." He commented wryly, shrugging his shoulders.

Nothing was said for a few seconds. Michelle felt Tony's eyes land on her before shifting back to Rick, who apparently knew how to take a hint.

"I'm uh…gonna go get cleaned up. I'll see you guys inside."

Michelle smiled after he had disappeared and inclined her head towards the doors.

"We should probably head in too…" her move to take a step was halted by a hand on her elbow.

"Hang on a sec." Tony pulled her back in front of him. He studied her carefully before letting out a deep sigh.

"Listen, I know things have been a little…" he ran his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "I mean I know I have been a little out of it lately - "

"It doesn't matter, honey - "

"Yeah, it does." He brought both hands to her cheeks. "Just uh…seeing that thing about Nina before kinda bothered me I guess."

"I had a feeling." One side of her mouth twitched. "I know you pretty well by now."

Tony smirked back and nodded.

"I should've said something anyway."

"It doesn't matter." She repeated. "It's just one of those things that will always be around on some level…we both know that."

He nodded slowly as he wrapped a hand around the back of her head and drew her mouth towards his.

"I love you." He muttered as he pulled away, lips still inches from hers. She grinned and moved in for her own quick kiss.

"I love you too."

"Kristen?" he waited for the response on the other end. "Hey, it's Rick…Almeida. I dunno if you were still thinking about grabbing that drink tonight but uh, I still got a lot of stuff to take care of over here so it doesn't look like I'm gonna be able to make it…"

He listened to her bubbly response.

"Yeah. Sure. Maybe another time." He brushed her off.

"Have a good night."

He snapped the phone shut and was surprised to feel a wave of relief wash over him. Maybe he was just tired, maybe he was getting older, or maybe he just really didn't feel like ruining all the progress he and Tony had made over the last few weeks. Either way, drinks with Kirsten didn't seem so appealing anymore.