Disclaimer: I do NOT...own Jericho...Too bad, it belongs to CBS, while John Casey belongs to NBC.....
Timeline Layout: Bombs+212 days. Episode Condor/Alternate setting.
Series layout: Follows Hawkins on a AU path (Chinook universe) to tracking down Valente and his group of thugs. IN this AU the Western Government (Allied States of America) is not inherently evil. More like Valente, J&R and a number of picked thugs have corruptiuon throughout the government. This will cover mainly conspiracy and laying out the outline of the politcal aspect of my "Chinook" universe. Whereas the actually Chinook series will cover the little peoples aspect. Also, I am going to stick somewhere between Canon and total AU for the next few episodes
CHAPTER NOTICE I have 3 big emphasis.
#1. See if you catch a "Normal" character somewhere that may surprise you.
#2. I intend Agent Bennet to be portrayed by Keith Carradine. Combine him from his guest appearance on Criminal minds (Crappy show. watched it once and he happened to be on it), and his role on Numb3rs. A truly evil dude.
#3. Keep in mind that Tomarchio is not evil...Only Valente. Tomarchio just unwittingly played into Valente's plans...But just wait. He'll lead the ASA to glory.
#4 through #10. I forgot. It may be a spoiler, but I am gonna say this ahead of time...This storyline....The ASA is gonna live, becoming the co-equal status with the US as a world power.
Warnings:Umm...none...mild violence...very mild...*Goes to spice up violence*. Also..VERY...very...very long.
Feedback: Please leave and let me know how it's going.
Writers question: Is Casey still canon type character? If you don't know. WATCH CHUCK ON NBC MONDAYS If you like Casey here's you'll love him in real-time. I barely capture his...smart-ass, cool, kick-ass character.
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Cheyenne Wyoming. Allied States of America Capitol. Department of Defence Headquarters
"What is it exactly you want me to do?" the man questioned.
Valente leaned back in his chair and looked at the man in front of him. Tall and lean, the man was pushing 55 and his hair was already mostly white with a large horseshoe of hair gone from his head.
However even at 55, the man commanded respect.......or at the very least fear. The gaunt body and lifeless eyes exuded death in their own way, combined with the precise and correct movements sent chills down the spines of normal people and inflicted terror in proffessionals who recognized the pure deadliness.
"Use your judgment Carl. I want to know if Major Casey is still on our side," Valente replied.
"Hmmmm," Carl Bennet gave a neutral murmur and carefully placed the folder containing Casey's background back on Valente's desk as the man continued.
"It will be your team with the president this trip as well. I suspect no trouble but keep one of YOUR men with him at all times."
"Mmm...Same as usual then?" Carl pulled a single cigarette from a pocket and placed it in his mouth. A lighter appearing out of seemingly nowhere in his hand, lit the cigarette and then disappeared again.
"Yes. And depending on your judgment of Casey......Your call."
Carl nodded and then slowly paced out of Valente's office, silently closing the door behind him. Valente watched him leave and then picked up the un-touched glass of whiskey, draining it in one gasp. Carl Bennet was an effecient agent, and decidedly loyal, however he truly scared Valente in the fact he was so deathly effecient.
He was single-handedly responsible for hunting down the majority of the Red Bell operatives. He had also plucked a NSA operative out of their operations, gleaning valuable information from him before he "accidentally" died.
Only other operations, some even in Columbus that prevented him from being assigned to killing Sarah Mason.
And now that possibly was being corrected.....
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Richmond Farm. Jericho Outskirts.
"Damnit," Casey muttered. He checked his watch again, only then realizing that it had been only four minutes since the last time he had done that.
He uneasily paced around the Richmond's farmhouse, awaiting the president's arrival. He didn't like being isolated from the operation. He didn't like the plan, there was too much owing to luck and too many people included. Chavez was okay, but including Darcy was adding baggage to Hawkins...although he could see that......and Jake....
Casey sneered as he thought of the local pretty boy. Ever since he had met the local hero he had disliked him, a feeling that he was sure was mutual. He was unreliable and flighty. He had worked for three different airlines, all with questionable reputations. His final job was as a PMC in Iraq, with his being discharged from the company, after a civilian fire incident made him unsuitable for combat, as quoted by the contractor.
To Casey it appeared whenever shit started happening this Green chickened out and took off. A stark contrast to his father, whom Casey had only met once, but had a deep respect for.
"Major Casey," a voice said from behind him. Casey turned and faced Sergeant Davis, "The farm is secured and Tomarchio's advance bodyguard is here awaiting his arrival."
"Good work Sergeant," The man saluted and then walked off, leaving Casey to watch the agents exiting the SUV's. At the sight of one of them he froze.
"Oh crap...." he muttered. The sunglasses the man wore did little to conceal his identity, his long, gaunt frame and distinctive gate setting him apart from the other agents. Although his head did not turn as he entered the Richmond's farmhouse, Casey knew he had seen him. He was just waiting.
Jericho. Outside City Hall.
Hawkins stood back from the window, avoiding being silhouetted in the light, but still able to watch the street below. He was watching Jericho's town hall, a building where the computer system, which scanned the people of Jericho for "Threats" was, and where the temporary command center for Tomarchio's arrival was situated.
President Tomarchio's motorcade had just rolled up in front of city hall. The President was riding in a humvee, obviously armored, and as escort was half a dozen SUV's carrying bodyguards and entourage, and half a dozen humvee's, all sporting turrents, with two even containing 40MM automatic grenade launchers.
The humvee's door opened and the President stepped out, going along the pathway made through the people, stopping occasionally to shake a hand, his bodyguards clustered tightly around him.
As the President stepped into the town hall, the military quickly began dispersing the crowd, intending to have the street clear by the time the President returned.
After about 15 minutes the President exited Jericho's town hall and walked to his humvee, accompanied by Mayor Anderson and Jake Green.
The small convoy slowly pulled out of Jericho, towards the Richmond farm, Hawkins tensely waited to see who else exited city hall.
After several minutes Chavez, or Parker as he was known, exited the hall. Hawkins couldn't hear him, but the small troop of soldiers split up, pairs moving to the various street corners and stopping, all conveniently situated to cover each others area's if needed and to control the flow of Jericho's streets.
Hawkins set aside the binoculars and carefully repacked his equipment. He couldn't leave anything that would give a firm link back to him. Unzipping a ziplock bag he carefully dropped a loaded pistol magazine on the floor.....one with Sarah Mason's fingerprint on it. Hopefully it would be just enough to throw them off for awhile.....and that was all they needed.
Richmond Farm.
Casey stood at the corner of the Richmond's porch and watched the presidential convoy pull into the back yard, the president exiting into the farmhouse, probably to prepare last-minute for his speech and allow his bodyguards to secure the area.
A dozen agents exited the front door and began mingling with the crowd, showing them their seats. Casey had to agree with that foresight. With the entire audience sitting, it was easier to watch for possible threats, there being fewer possibilities to move without being noticed.
As the people began sitting down, Casey felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. A split second later, a voice came from the porch above him.
"Hello Casey," came the neutral voice. Not a hint of anything tainting the computer-like voice.
"Agent Bennet," Casey replied, not turning his head upwards to look.
"Well, well. Someone recognizes me," followed by a short laugh cut short. Then the monotone began again, "Any information on Mason?"
'Hmm. Right to the point,' Casey thought, "No sir. It's like she went into thin air."
"But that is good Casey. Thin air is easier to see in." A hint of danger worked it's way into his voice, "Why have you not been able to find anything? Surely finding one person should not be difficult for someone with your...abilities."
Something nagged at Casey. This was wrong. If the man was going to interrogate him, he'd be strapped in a wet metal chair right now. If he had been going to be subtly questioned, he wouldn't use a direct approach.
"It's not that simple, sir. Outside of the last instance of using the satellite system, the computer has not been restarted. And in this country, one only needs to find an abandoned house, a months worth of food and they disappear," he replied.
Bennet did not reply and after several moments Casey glanced behind him, noting the agent had left without his hearing him. As he watched, the military guard formed behind the assembled crowd, 21 long and stood at attention. The Richmond's farmhouse door opened and a tall man stepped out onto the porch.
He stepped up to the railings edge and looked over it, "Hello, Citizens of Jericho. It is my honor to be here today, on this hallowed ground, as President of the Allied States of America."
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Jericho Town Hall.
Hawkins glanced at his watch and then back at the ring of security cameras that surrounded city hall. Unlike the TV shows and movies, there were not the gaps in their coverage that allowed him in. And as paranoid as the Cheyenne government was, he could count on the agents to actually be watching the screen rather than dozing or drinking coffee.
Another twenty seconds and he would find out if Darcy had been able to implement the plan.
Darcy looked cautiously around the Major's office. There was only one other occupant, a soldier sitting behind a desk at the front doorway to the military's section of city hall. The rest were scattered around Jericho and the Richmond farm providing security.
"Dan, I'm going to the ladies room. I'll be back in five," she said, getting up and taking her oversized purse with her.
He looked up and smiled pleasantly as she left the room. Leaving his sight, she turned opposite the direction of the restrooms, instead walking in the direction of the Jericho meeting room, now requisitioned for the mobile command base of Tomarchio's entourage.
Turning a corner, she saw a soldier standing just outside the door, M4 carbine held loosely. He glanced at her, but ignored her as she walked by. Turning another corner, she walked along the corridors of the hall until she reached a room in the back of city hall.
Shutting the door behind her, she quickly started the laptop that had been hidden in the room the day before. An abandoned room, there had been little chance of it being found, and it was far less inconspicuous than her carrying one with her.
Opening her purse, she took out the compact transmitter and flash drive her husband had given her. She plugged in the flash drive first, then the transmitter. Going through several steps a program opened, and then a systems window opened, showing the program at work.
She waited a moment to re-check it, but now she had no way of knowing if the program would work. Deciding she could do no more, she repacked her purse and quickly returned to Beck's office.
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Jericho. Outside City Hall.
Hawkins glanced at his watch and decided it was as long as he could wait. Praying Darcy had been able to activate the computer program, he hunched into a crouch and began edging towards the rear entrance.
Between the security camera's and perimeter patrol, it would have been nearly impossible to bypass both unseen and enter the building. What Darcy had done, was active a program that would mirror the images of the rear security cameras. The videos had been collected the same time the day prior with computer that pirated the wireless signal the cameras transmitted. That information was then copied onto a transmitter, that when placed between the cameras and the ASA computer, SHOULD have over-ridden the real-time signal. Unless the image was carefully inspected, it should work for the short time period needed. In which case he hoped none of the computer monitors had extra time to spend looking at the screens.
He waited as a soldier slowly passed by the rear door of Town Hall. As the soldier left his sight he made a dash to the door. He grimaced as a security camera panned right onto him, but tried to ignore it as he quickly pulled out a pair of picks and jammed them into the lock. Being a small town, with 40 year old locks and little attention being paid to them, the lock quickly opened and he slipped inside.
Hawkins eased the door shut, then looked around his surroundings. Mentally noting the room he needed to reach, he slipped his 9MM Beretta out of it's holster. He screwed on a silencer and slipped it underneath his jacket, then checked to make sure his laptop was still firmly in his thin backpack.
Straightening himself, he slipped on a ski-mask and continued walking. The fact it made him look like a terrorist didn't appeal to him, but the last thing that could happen was being recognized at a later date on security cameras or personal. As he neared a corner, he slowed. He glanced quickly around the corner and back out of sight. This was the part that made him jumpy.
If he simply shot the guard, even that minor noise might alert the ones inside the room. And being a stranger in the Hall, he doubted the soldier would let him get close enough to storm the room after shooting him, before he was shot himself.
Pulling his pistol, Hawkins carefully scraped the wall. He waited, and hearing nothing, gently tapped the butt on the wall. After a second he heard the footsteps of the soldier approaching. Drawn by the noise, but not alerted enough to notify anyone. Then again, who would be in a locked down building with two dozen guards and dozens of security cameras surrounding it.
As the soldier rounded the corner, he came face to face with the butt of Hawkins pistol to his forehead. The force of the blow was enough to knocked the man down, dropping the M4 carbine and confused him. The man snatched at a radio on his belt as he struggled to get up. It was knocked from his hands, and before he could move, the saw the front half of a Beretta staring him in the face.
"One word. And you're dead...got it?" the ski-masked face said.
The soldier nodded and then carefully stood up. The man in front of him motioned, "Zip ties. Your feet first."
More aware of what was happening, the soldier did so sullenly. He knew what was going on, but with the man not close enough to rush, he had no choice.
"On the floor. Hands above your head," the man commanded.
Hawkins quickly and easily zip-tied the man's hands together, then formed a gag and shoved it in the soldiers mouth before tying his hands around his ankles. He searched the soldier, stripping him of his knife, pistol, and radio before continuing around the corner.
Hawkins continued down the hall, stopping in front of the control room's door. Tensing himself, he swung the door open, stepping into the room and raising his pistol in one motion. There were 4 people in the room. Three were nothing more than computer nerds, there to run the sophisticated equipment and little more. The fourth was the only real threat, obviously an agent from the movie cliche suit, tie and sunglasses.
Turning the pistol, it coughed two rounds into the chest of the agent. It knocked him down and Hawkins adjusted his aim to cover the rest of the room. The three geeks sat in their chairs, a combination dumb and shocked look on their faces. One made a lightning reach towards a large radio, only to have it knocked from the desk by a bullet.
"All three of you. On the floor, hands over your head, over there," the masked man said, motioning towards a far corner, void of compters or chairs. The three complied and Hawkins quickly moved to the table formerly occupied by the agent.
Keeping one eye on the geeks, he slipped his laptop out of it's case, and set it next to the agent's computer. As his machine warmed up, he quickly searched the computer.
"Bingo," he muttered. Quickly plugging his machine into the agent's, a transfer bar appeared. Eight and a half minutes....which was about eight minutes more than he would have liked.
Richmond Farm.
Casey stood at the corner of the porch, somewhat proud to be standing only feet from the new leader of the nation.
He listened as Tomarchio spoke to the crowd, and to the pair of news cameras pointed towards him, "You've lost loved ones. But here you are again. Still strong. Still proud. This is the best of America. But infighting has left us weak and vulnerable to our enemies. Remnants of the old federal government have fallen back to Columbus, Ohio. After the attacks, that government endlessly debated our response. So, in a vacuum of leadership, I acted to let the world know that America was down, but not out."
Casey glanced around the crowd. Most seemed cheered by the President's speech, and a number even applauded. A low growl exited his throat as he saw others sit rigidly, seething hidden anger at the President's words. Jake Green was one, his brother Eric was another.
Their father, Johnston Green sat in the front row. Casey saw a number of the crowd watching him, seeing how he reacted to the President's words. However a neutral expression remained on his face. His wife, Gail, also was expressionless, showing no trace of contempt or enthusiasm.
As he looked over the crowd, he listened to the President.
"The federal government of the Eastern Bloc states no longer has any governing authority beyond the Mississippi. You've seen the flag. This is the flag of a new country, flying from the Mississippi to the Pacific. The 13 stripes of red and white still represent the 13 colonies, but they run in a new direction — just as we must chart a new direction for ourselves. In a few short weeks, Mayor Anderson will represent you as we ratify a Constitution for this new nation that will be known to the world by a new name: The Allied States of America."
As the President paused for effect, Casey glanced to Jericho's mayor, Gray Anderson. As he did, he happened to notice one of the soldiers standing behind him. The man was older than many of the Allied Soldiers in the crowd, nearing thirty, although from his bearing he was one of the newer recruits and not a veteran. He seemed edgy. And as he watched the man clench his rifles grip, and begin flipping the safety on and off of his M16, warning bells rang in his head.
Then the President continued, "And with this new name, a clean slate. Our debts have been forgiven and we are open again for business. That means jobs, stocked shelves, a return to life as we knew it. And, in the fall, we'll have elections, where we can all take part in building a new government, as a safer, stronger America."
Finally recognizing the man's intentions, Casey jerked his handgun from it's holster. There wasn't time to warn the President. As he lined up the handgun, the sights blurring onto the image of the soldier, he heard the President's parting words of his speech.
"God bless you and God bless the Allied States of America."
The soldier jerked his M16 up, and turned it towards the President, "DAMN YOU, YOU MOTHER FU...." The man's words were never completed. Casey squeezed off a shot, followed quickly by a second and then a third. The first carefully aimed bullet caught the soldier in the head, the second and third hastily aimed shots entering the man's arm before being stopped by his body armor.
As the body slumped to the ground, a deathly silence held the air, before dissolving into chaos.
Jericho City Hall.
Hawkins watched edgily as the progress bar monitering the downloading seemingly crept across the screen. He glanced back at the computer operators, all laying face-down in the corner. He had to appreciate that working in his favor. As he had worked on the computers, he had tossed a bundle of zip-ties to them, order them each to tie themselves up. They had done so, with the final one Hawkins finishing...... He had to appreciate the kind of help the government was hiring. At least that was one constant.
However his training still held authority. And it is a lucky thing it did. His constant awareness, coupled with gripping the pistol, were the only things that saved his life. Movement flashed out of the corner of his eye as he instinctively dived out of the chair.
Two shots rang out as the agent lying on the floor fired a pair of in-accurate shots, both missing and thudding into the ceiling.
Hawkins turned the silenced gun on the man, firing another shot into him, this time the head. Hawkins quickly turned to the computer, another 55 seconds to go.
"Damnit," Hawkins cursed. It was too long...but too close to just leave. He quickly glanced at the now-dead agent. He couldn't believe it. He had been in a hurry, and completely neglected to think of bulletproof vests. Of course though....an agent in this type of position would...But why did he wait so long? Unless a bullet missed the kevlar and entered the body, enough to disorient him for several minutes.
Hawkins shook the cobwebs out of his mind as he heard the thudding of combat boots in the distance. The shots had obviously alerted the outside guards.
Eight seconds...seven, six,five, four,three,two.
Hawkins yanked the computers apart and jammed his into his pack, and sprinting for the door at the same time. He jerked open the outer door, raising the bound soldier's M4, there being no need for silence any longer.
As he ran into the hallway, the lead ASA soldier was only feet from him, however his carbine was not at the ready position.
Hawkins triggered a short burst at him, dropping him in the hallway. He began a sideways run down the hall away from the soldiers. But he knew the distance was too far before one of the soldiers bullets caught him.
At that moment, a gun opened up, a long-uncontrolled burst, that seemed to chase him down the hallway. But as he turned the corner, he realized it was not directed at him. As he risked a quick glance behind him, he saw Chavez in the middle of the cluster of soldiers, causing more confusion than casualties.
He forced himself to ignore the scene behind him as he barreled towards the rear door. Without stopping, he slammed into it. The flimsy door and aging frame buckled and it collapsed outward. He managed to not fall, and collecting his thoughts, quickly made his way through the backyard, not stopping until he came to an abandoned house.
He jerked open the door and strode inside. Stripping off his ski-mask, he collected it, his gun and backpack before hurrying up the stairs. Picking a side-room, he pulled off a heating vent cover. He grabbed the bundle inside and quickly stripped out of his clothes. He put on the new change, then jammed his old clothes and the computer, gun and ski-mask inside the vent before closing it.
Hawkins then edged towards a window, glancing outside. Although he probably could have made a run for it, this was the safest, at least for the information he gathered. Chavez's distraction would have worn off, and he couldn't risk the soldiers catching him with the information still in his hands. At the very least, he now was in different clothes, and the information was in a central place known by Jake and Darcy.
Straightening his shoulders, he opened the door and walked outside.
Richmond Farm.
The yard dissolved into chaos as the blasts died away. The President's bodyguards surrounded him and herded him inside the farmhouse. The crowd that had been sitting on the lawn chairs, rose and became a milling herd, held into one spot by the now responding soldiers and agents.
Casey lurched forward and trotted to the downed soldier. As he approached, he covered the man with his gun, but it was obvious that it was over, the exit wound in the opposite ear that he fired at. Almost automatically he swapped out his magazine for a fully loaded one and then replaced it in his holster.
Looking around the yard, he saw the citizens of Jericho being lined up in a single row, covered by the soldiers, while agent's went down the line, patting them down and giving them each a once over.
The massive WHUP-WHUP of helicopters approached in the distance as a trio of Blackhawks came into sight. One settled down behind the farmhouse, while the remaining two made slow passes overhead, the door-mounted machine guns slowly swiveling to cover the crowd.
The back door of the Richmond's farmhouse burst open. The President was hustled out, surrounded by half a dozen bodyguards who clustered tightly around him. Casey watched as the President was put aboard. A feeling of relief nearly overwhelmed him as he watched Agent Bennet take a seat beside the President as the Blackhawk's rotors sped up, taking the massive machine into the sky.
