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This is a little longer that previous chapters, let me know if you like it and I apologise for the slow update.
I don't own 24.
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Chapter Eight:
"Why isn't this working?" Chloe almost shouted at the mechanism, tempted to hit it with her fist.
"Have you linked it to the mainframe circuitry?" Edgar enquired.
She nodded "Yeah, I've tried everything yet nothing seems to work. It's like the whole network grid has been disconnected."
The door opened, the noise causing them both to jump.
She nearly reached for the gun on the table before realising that it was Tony who had just entered.
Not noticing his unusually pale complexion, she enquired "You don't happen to remember your CTU login and pass-code, do you? Maybe the idiotic computer will give you access...
Tony however, wasn't listening, for the only thing keeping him from collapsing was him gripping the doorframe for support.
"Tony, are you alright?" Edgar asked, concerned.
"Yeah." He lied automatically.
Edgar looked at him disbelievingly "Your head is bleeding."
The scarlet blood contrasted vividly with the paleness of his skin. Raising a hand, he attempted to prevent further bleeding, only to leave his hand drenched with crimson.
Chloe reluctantly glanced away from the computer and agreed "He's right, you really don't look well. Maybe go back to medical-"
"No," Tony interrupted "It's just a bit of blood, and anyway, helping with CTU may give me a chance to regain my memory."
She glared at him "It's not 'just a bit of blood,' you've got a gigantic cut on your head."
He returned the glower, a determined look in his eyes.
Taking the hint, Chloe sighed "Fine."
Michelle was exhausted beyond belief. That night had been too long, worrying and hectic. She wanted to go and find Tony to see if he was alright, yet she had the job of trying to get a phone connection.
Just as she was considering smashing the cell phone onto the floor, someone tapped her on the shoulder before an unusually chirpy, carefree voice asked "Heeeey, sooo sorry, you're Ms Dessler, right? Cool, I'm wondering if you could help me."
The exuberant stranger had dark hair, eyes the colour of coal and well tanned skin.
"Yes, I'm Michelle Dessler. What can I help with?"
"Hiya Michelle, I'm Ayesha Bertino." She grinned widely "I was wondering if you could tell me where Tony Almeida is."
Immediately cautious of the peculiar woman, Michelle asked the first of the many questions that came to her mind.
"Why?"
Still smiling, she replied "I just need to talk to him, Y'know, personal stuff."
"Are you two... close?"
Ayesha frowned "I don't think that's any of your business."
Michelle wanted to shout 'Of course it's my business! I'm his wife!' But refrained from doing so in the nick of time, and decided for a more polite approach.
"I'm sorry; you're going to have to ask Mr Buchanan."
Ayesha suddenly looked sheepish.
"He and I... sort of... don't get along that well. I'd much prefer if you'd help me find him."
She already disliked Ayesha, even though she had only met her a few minutes ago. It was something to do with the way her eyes bore into whatever she looked at, or that the large, creepy smile she owned looked almost smug.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to see your I.D." Michelle requested, attempting not to glare at her.
"Don't you trust me?" Ayesha giggled, yet took out her identification none the less, as well as a CTU key-card.
"Alright," Michelle said dejectedly "Follow me."
"It's working." Chloe confirmed, tapping the computer keyboard at the speed of light.
"Great, now you need to check everyone who entered the building in the last couple of hours." Edgar requested.
Chloe accessed the accurate file, and projected it onto the screen; the monitor displayed various clips of CCTV footage.
They watched the recording in silence; before Chloe asked "You know this is going to take ages, don't you?"
Edgar nodded "Yeah, we have to do whatever is necessary to make sure this person doesn't damage CTU, or-"
"Wait!" Tony's voice said urgently from the other side of the room. He gestured to a particular clip, showing the main entrance.
"Replay the last ten seconds."
Chloe did so, then they all surveyed the recording fixatedly.
The image was quite low quality yet they could still decipher what it presented.
Several people were exiting and entering simultaneously, some were leaving after a long day at the office, and some were coming in for a daunting night shift. Tony's attention was focused on a certain individual however. There was something about her he recognised; perhaps it was the way she walked, as if she owned the place. She tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear before disappearing from view.
"We need to find her." He said determinedly.
Chloe looked perplexed "Why?"
Scrutinizing the paused image, he answered "Because I recognise her."
Michelle led Ayesha towards M5, noticing to way she smirked at everything and everyone mockingly.
What did she want with Tony? What was the 'personal stuff' she wanted to talk to him about? A thousand questions raced through her brain in a cascade of theories.
Absentmindedly, she twisted the stunning gold wedding ring on her finger. Unfortunately, Ayesha noticed.
"Married?"
Michelle nodded, not wanting to engage in conversation.
"Happily?"
This question startled her, for it wasn't the type of query you'd ask someone you'd only just met.
"Yes." She replied simply.
"I'm glad" Ayesha commented, half-heartedly.
Michelle glanced at Ayesha's long fingered hand. There was no wedding ring.
She held open a door for her, receiving an ungrateful smirk in return.
"I thought you'd lost your memory!" Chloe pointed out, frowning.
"I have, I just... recall seeing her somewhere before."
"So, you don't know your own wife, but you can remember some random woman who might be totally unrelated to the situation at hand." She said exasperatedly.
"I know she has something to do with this." He raised a hand to check the bleeding, which had subsided slightly, yet that hadn't stopped several trails of blood from staining his shirt scarlet.
He knew he should really be receiving emergency medical treatment. Except he couldn't stand the thought of an intruder, possibly a terrorist, inside the building when he was using hospital recourses that people would need. A terrible thought struck his mind without his consent.
What if the imposter got to Michelle?
No. He decided. There is no way I'm going to let that happen. Ever.
His feelings for her confused him immensely. How could a woman he met a few hours ago make him feel this way?
Suddenly, a sharp piercing pain shot through his head, and he tried to prevent a gasp of pain.
He couldn't let anyone know that his injuries were still painful, and most of all, he didn't want them to know about the deep wound near his ribs, that proceeded to bleed copiously throughout the dilemmas that occurred that night.
He couldn't help but feel that the worst was yet to come.
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