Chapter 22

The Following Takes Place Between 3:00 A.M. and 4:00 A.M.

Jack knew right now that the sniper had all the advantages. The streetlights were so bright it was hard to pick out where he could be firing from, and he knew that satellites probably would only be helpful if their shooter was on the roof, which they had no proof of. Furthermore, because of the lateness of the hour, there were very few cars on the street so they didn't have much in the way of cover on their front. Without any position they could take, he and Sydney could probably fire themselves empty without so much as touching him.

By now, Sydney and he had found momentary cover behind their CTU vehicle. "Do you think that there's more than one shooter up there?" he asked Sydney.

"It's possible, but I doubt it like hell," Sydney said. "It would be inefficient for Sloane to leave many people behind, unless the ranks of his followers are truly bottomless, which isn't his style." She didn't add the nasty thought that all Sloane needed right now was a handful of men dozed with whatever immortality serum he was carrying.

Jack grimaced, thinking the same thing, he'd deal with that—and them—if it actually happened. "One of us needs to draw his fire while the other gets a position on him," he told her. "Think that you can handle the run?"

"This is no time for chivalry," Sydney said with a grim smile. "Count of three, start giving me cover."

Jack nodded.

"One… two…." Sydney was off in running before the last sound in 'three' was pronounced. Even though she had been tied up for more than an hour, she was still a lot faster than Jack was.

Without a lot of options, Sydney headed to her southeast, which led to an alleyway of the building behind her. One of the few things that it had in its favor was that it had an accessible fire stairs, which at least gave her the possibility of elevation

Unfortunately, the sniper began to fire just as she approached. Jack tried to mentally visualize where he was, but it was still hard to figure where it was coming from considering he could barely make out how high the adjacent buildings were.

He got on his emergency line with APO.

"Marshall."

"Marshall, it's Jack. Sydney and I are at the address, and we're pinned down by sniper fire!"

"What do you need?"

"I need to know the highest building on Edgemont Street, now!"

Marshall had gotten to the point where he knew not mess around when he got this kind of call. "Give me twenty seconds."

"We may not have that long," Jack roared, still trying to maneuver and shoot simultaneously while on the phone.

"I realize that, but…" Marshall trailed off. "24 Edgemont Street, seven stories. It's the fifth building on the left side of the street relative to your position."

"Got it," Jack hung up and began counting. It took him less than five seconds to figure out where to go, and where to aim.

He just hoped that Sydney wasn't already out of the picture.

Sydney had made it to the second floor access point by now. By her calculation, the last shot the sniper had fired had been ten seconds earlier, which meant that this guy had probably emptied his clip—and he also confirmed that there was only one shooter. All of which would have made her feel better, if she could have gotten a position on this guy.

She got on her two-way. "Please tell me that you have a location on the shooter," she demanded of Jack.

"Across the street, two buildings to your right," he told her. "How long do you need?"

Sydney had never stopped climbing. "Less than a minute," she said, which of course was the moment that the gunfire resumed.

Man this guy's devoted to getting the job done. "This only works if you can keep up your end of the deal," she told him.

"I'm on it."

Just knowing where the sniper was hardly enough to stop him, at least not with the Weber that he was carrying. In order for them to succeed, they needed higher ground and a more accurate weapon. Sydney was handling the first part, he figured that it was up to him to do the latter.

In the time that the shooter had taken to reload, he had gotten back to the CTU vehicle and opened the weapons unit. There was an M-16A3 in storage, a weapon that would normally be useful for only one out of every ten trips out into the field

This was the one.

In less than fifteen seconds, he had loaded the weapon, and aimed at the top floor of 24 Edgemont Way. He readied himself for the kick, pointed and shot.

Jack's accuracy at this range wasn't going to be very great, but right now his only concern was putting enough bullets into the air that the sniper would shift his focus, giving Sydney enough time to get where she was going.

Now we see who runs out of ammunition first.

Jack fired off simple, easy three-round bursts, so he wouldn't have his bullets fly all over the area. Concrete dust exploded out from the building. Right now, he couldn't even see the sniper's head. In fact, he might not have even stuck it out.

Which means that I might be firing at a target only the size of a quarter. Great.

The adrenaline had done the job, and Sydney had made it to the eighth floor. She couldn't quite make out the sniper's exact location, but she could just make out the flash from where the weapon was being fired from.

Once again, she waited until the shooter emptied his second clip. This time it took him five seconds to reload.

A split second after the first shot was fired, Sydney empty her clip into the window that he was shooting out of. There was no question she'd made contact—the gun that was being fired went through what was left of the window.

"Jack, he's down!" Sydney shouted into the radio.

"That's one problem down," Jack pointed out.

"Get us into that building and up to where that sniper was firing from. Whoever it is has to have some link to Sark. All we have to do is pull it off him."

3:08:14/3:08:15/3:08:16

When Vaughn got a look at Lamont's Point, he was somewhat amazed that anyone was still alive. The area looked like it had been ground zero for hours of firebombing, which given how Sloane operated, had probably been his plan. Sloane had always been a believer in the scorched earth policy; this was a literal example of it.

There was a rapping on his door, and Vaughn was staring at Jack Bristow, who didn't look much better than the surrounding landscape. For that matter, given how burned and bloody he was, Vaughn was amazed that the man was in one piece.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered as he opened the rear door. "Where the fuck were you standing?"

"Not that near the blast point," Mr. Bristow told him, as he heaved himself into the car. "But close enough to be thrown into the water. Few feet nearer, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I'm not sure how much longer we'll be having one anyway," Vaughn countered, only half in jest. "Have you been seen cleared for duty?"

"I'm fine, Vaughn," Sydney's father replied with his usual cold, hard tone.

Vaughn looked at Mr. Bristow's attire, which was covered with blood, ash and water, where it wasn't ripped. "Forgive me, Jack, but given what you've been through in the last hour alone, I'm going to need a little more reassurance than your word."

"My daughter and Jack Bauer have been through far worse injuries than I have, and they're cleared for duty," Mr. Bristow was keeping a stiff upper lip, but Vaughn could tell how pale he was.

"Yeah, but when they were cleared, it didn't look like a stiff breeze would knock them over," Vaughn countered. "I'm taking you to a hospital."

"Yes, because Sloane's not going to be doing anything of consequence while doctors are poking and prodding me."

And because Vaughn wasn't entirely sure he was willing to sacrifice his daughter in order to save his father-in-law, he decided to ease off. "There's a first aid kit under the seat," he told Sydney's father. "There should at least be some adrenaline and painkillers in there. Also, if we by some chance catch up to Sloane, you're staying in the car. "

"You really think that by not fighting, Sloane will show me any mercy?" Mr. Bristow said, as he opened the first aid kit.

"We've been through a lot," Vaughn countered. "I'm not just going to use you as a human shield."

Reluctantly, he started the car, and dialed CTU.

"Kim Bauer."

"It's Vaughn. I've just picked up Jack Bristow. Have you gotten anywhere backtracking Stephen Saunders?"

"There's bad news, and good news," Kim told him. "Like I told you before, there were three vehicles at Saunders' last location. One of them was the van that had Irina and Isabelle in it. They completed the handoff an hour ago."

Vaughn tried to quell the stab of fear that quickly ran through him "We knew that at some point there was going to be a trade," he countered. "Any idea what Saunders got in exchange?"

"Couldn't tell from that position." Kim paused. "The son-of-a-bitch was also carrying Nadia in the trunk of his car."

"He handed all that off, and he didn't bother to kill Saunders?" Jack Bristow spoke up.

"I can't explain it either," Kim admitted. "Maybe the possibility of immortality is mellowing everybody out."

"Where is Saunders' going?" Vaughn asked, not wanting to delve too deeply into the subject right now

"Satellites and traffic cameras show him heading northeast down Hawthorne Boulevard. Last overhead showed him taking a right turn on Rosecrans a few minutes later. Now don't make me swear to this, but I think he's heading to Hawthorne Municipal Airport."

"That makes a certain amount of sense," Sydney's father admitted. "Given the level of the Hell about to hit, I'd want to leave of the country as soon as possible."

"I don't suppose you've got any backup left you can spare," Vaughn asked hopefully.

"A lot of any possible backup died at Lamont's Point," Kim answered. "Coupled with all the people we have scouring the city for Sloane…."

"That's what I thought," Vaughn told resignedly. "Any government agency that could still be here--- FBI, DOD, anyone, find somebody to intercept with us at the airport."

"Given everything this guy's done today, do you think either of you can stay rational when you confront him?" Kim pointed out.

"He'll live," Vaughn told her, "long enough to tell us where he sent my daughter and Nadia. Beyond that, he won't be measuring his life in coffee spoons much longer."

3:14:36/3:14:37/3:14:38/3:14:39

Kim's phone rang and she answered it automatically, double-checking CTU force deployments. Maybe she could send Vaughn backup if she diverted some resources from over there...? No, couldn't do that. What if—

"What's up Marshall?"

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Caller ID. Wave of the future...of the 1980s."

"Oh, yeah, right. Listen, I want you to go over some Sat pics of the area around your father and Syd, see if we can find this guy's car. Blue Prius."

"Gotcha. Shouldn't be a problem. Anything else?"

"Well... remember Sloane as a Highlander?"

Kim blinked, suddenly getting an image of Arvin Sloane in a kilt. "You mentioned it."

"Well, that would mean that your father would have to start carrying a sword, right?"

"I have difficulty imagining him swinging a Claymore." Kim pointed out. "Besides, when Dad killed him the first time, he practically blew his head clean off his shoulders. According to Sydney, he's got it back now. Now, I didn't want the show often enough to know if that would have substituted for a clean decapitation----"

Marshall actually considered this a moment. "The rules of the Game were always sketchy about modern equipment. Always seemed a little primitive that none of the Highlander's ever tried it, especially the more evil ones, but those guys always seemed to be living codes of other centuries."

"And, despite all the insane rituals he's performing, Sloane's essentially a creature of the modern age," Kim pointed out.

"Spitballing about TV shows is okay for awhile, but it still doesn't answer how we stop Sloane when we find him," Marshall said. "We both know as long as there is a microgram of strength in Sloane's body, he'll find a way to bring about the end-times."

Kim considered this. "As my dad would say this is still the cart before the horse time," she said finally. "We've got to find him first."

"That part hasn't been that difficult, compared with some of the other things that Sydney and your father have done today," Marshall reminded her.

He would have added more to that, but it that moment his computer beeped. "Kim, I think I've found something that may help Jack and Syd."

\"Like to how to kill Sloane?"

"Unfortunately, I still don't have an answer on that."

Getting into the building where the sniper had been holed up required another set of headaches. Whoever it was had managed to get into 24 Edgemont Street without breaking any windows or doors. Both Sydney and Jack assumed that he had managed to override the building's security system--- something that Marshall could have done, given some warning and time. However, with the clock running , they decided it would be faster if they just broke and entered, and had CTU call the police and explain.

Upon doing so, they had trouble locating the man who had been shooting at them. For some reason, he was not on the top floor, where one would think he'd have the best view, but, as Sydney had been able to tell from her position, an office one floor below. Finally, when they had gotten in, the body had nearly fallen through the window, and they'd had to be careful to stop it from plummeting to the ground, thus risking the damage of whatever electronics he was carrying. As Sydney had pointed out, they had to treat the man in death far more care then they would have shown him alive.

"I got the ID of the photos you sent," Marshall told them. "Your shooter was Alfred Hahn, former Covenant agent. Believe it or not, he was ex-LAPD SWAT, before becoming the head of a security agency. Probably how he managed to get into the building."

"Have you gotten anything off his cell?" Jack asked.

"There are some calls to numbers that we've connected with Sark, but that's not exactly a surprise," Marshall pointed out. "If this had been the gunman behind the grassy knoll, I'd be a little more stunned, but there isn't a single number here that we haven't already linked to Sark or Sloane."

Both agents had expected that. "Is there that we can use either of these numbers to try and pinpoint Sark's location?" Sydney asked.

"Guys, if it was a matter of me using triangulation and cell towers, I've have tracked him down for you three hours ago," Marshall told them. "I don't want anything to happen to Nadia or Isabelle either, but trust me, using his cell like that isn't going to cut it."

"Marshall, when you use those words that implies that there's another method you're not telling us about," Jack pointed out.

"Like I said, we can't track down Sloane or Sark with this cell, but unless he was planning on catch the train, he has to have some way of meeting up with Sark later, after he'd killed you," Marshall said. "Now, while all these Covenant types are smart enough to use stolen cars, I don't think Hahn had the requisite brainpower to follow their lead."

Sydney had become a lot better at decoding Marshall's rambles. "You found this guys car?'

"I found a sky blue 2003 Ford Prius with the license number NKQ-4742 registered to Hahn," Marshall told them. "As per your instructions, before you two arrived I did a satellite sweep of the area. Two cars arrived, one of which we traced back to Sark a couple of hours back, the other belonging to Hahn. Yes, I have Kim going over the satellites looking for that car," he said before either could say anything, " but without any real destination, we might as well just throw darts at a map."

"Assuming he showed up in his car and didn't steal one," Jack reminded him, "how do we use it to find Sark? Like you said, they could be heading anywhere"

"Hahn stayed behind to finish off anybody who pursued him," Marshall told him. "Afterwards, he was probably going to rendezvous with Sark and Anna. Ergo, the GPS will probably have something on it that will lead us to either that meeting point, or some future destination."

"That's a hell of a leap," Sydney said.

"Yeah, but there's a better chance finding him using that computer than the one on the cell," Marshall pointed out.

"Blue Ford Prius?" Jack asked.

"Trust me, it's there," Marshall assured them.

"At least he's an environmentally conscious hitman," Sydney drawled.

"You couldn't tell it where he parked it by any chance?" Jack asked Marshall.

"It'll take less time for you to find it than for be to give you its exact position," Marshall reminded him.

3:23:44/3:23:45/3:23:46

As they headed for the elevator, Sydney asked almost casually: "We get anything else from Lamont's Point?"

"Um, yeah about that," Marshall said. "About an hour ago, one of Sloane's henchmen triggered some kind of auto-destruct bomb at the computer bank, and, um, kind of destroyed it."

"The information?" Sydney said, her throat tightening.

"Um, Lamont's Point. Big-ass bomb pretty much—" Marshall seemed to realize what he was saying "the place was leveled."

"What happened to my father?"

"Oh, your father's still alive and kicking," Marshall assured her. "It's just that every other agent was killed."

Sydney paused for a moment as the elevator doors opened for them, and she didn't speak until they closed. Her voice came out in a cool, calm, and highly controlled...and Marshall would have sworn she had used that voice before she shot people. Had she been taking voice lessons from Jack Bauer again? "And you decided to sit on this until now?"

"I kind of figured, you know, how worked up you are about Nadia and Isabelle, and probably your mom missing, the last thing you needed to hear was that your father was nearly killed," Marshall sputtered. "Figured it might put you in a catatonic state."

Sydney blinked, and was silent until the elevators opened. She stepped out onto the first floor, and glanced at Bauer. Jack also looked dumbstruck by the strange analysis from the stranger analyst. "Marshall, you've known me for nearly ten years," Sydney pointed out. "You know that I'm nowhere near that fragile."

"Everybody has a breaking point," Marshall argued. "And today has been incredibly trying."

Sydney blinked, and sighed. This was Marshall's way of looking out for her, and it was sweet...in a strange and completely lopsided sort of way. "My father's all right?"

"Vaughn picked him up about ten minutes ago," Marshall told her. "Right now, they're working on tracking down Stephen Saunders."

"Any luck in finding him?"

"I think, right now, it would be better if we just worried about tracking down Sark and Anna," Jack told her.

Sydney pushed the door open. "What about the virus?" she asked instead. "We any closer to stopping any of the vials?"

"Well, the good news is, with the information we pulled off the datastream before it went ka-boom, we have managed to intercept five of the vials before they reached their targets."

"Does that mean Sloane can't pull off his Armageddon scenario?" Jack asked.

"God I hope so," Marshall said with some release. "I mean, considering that we've now accounted for nine of the fourteen samples, you'd think we'd have stopped the Apocalypse, now." He gave a short laugh. "Problem is, there are still five out there, so even if Mr. Sloane doesn't destroy the world, he can probably set off a few major global outbreaks. I imagine that he'd be disappointed, but since it seems he's already gotten his immortality, I think he might be willing to let it go and call this a good day's destruction."

"And there's probably some loophole in the Rimbaldi manuscripts that allows him to pull this off anyway," Sydney said as they looked around outside.

"At this point, very little would surprise me," Marshall said.

"Sydney!" As they had noted earlier, there weren't a lot of cars parked on the street. It took Jack less than fifteen seconds to spot the vehicle. "I'll need a minute to---"

"Actually, you won't even need that." Sydney jangled the keys found on Hahn's body. "Saves us a little trouble, anyway."

Jack took the keys, and opened the door to the vehicle. Quickly he located the GPS. "Okay, Marshall, I'm turning it on now."

"All right, I'm tapping into it," Marshall told him.

Less than half a minute later, he was back on the phone. "All right. There are two sets of coordinates within the last forty minutes—one leading to Culver City, one leading away from it."

"What about that set?" Jack asked

"Apparently it involves taking Route 405 all the way down to Mulholland, then following a side route into…" he trailed off.

"Where?"

"About a mile into the Santa Monica Mountains." Marshall frowned. "Why would Sark and Anna go there?"

"Elevation," Sydney said grimly.. "At the right altitude and with the right winds, they could infect half of Los Angeles."

"Then we'd better get moving, and hope they haven't already started," Jack said.

3:29:54/3:29:55/3:29:56/3:29:57

Unlike the one in Torrance that Sydney had briefly visited several hours earlier, Hawthorne Municipal Airport was more of a private airstrip, and while there was a small terminal, the majority of the passengers boarded on private runways rather than waiting for announcements.

By the time that Vaughn and Mr. Bristow had gotten there, Dixon had contacted them and said he had talked with airport security and told them to keep an eye out for Stephen Saunders. Unfortunately, this was a big enough field so that Saunders could have a lot of hiding places. When he had suggested that they shut down all flights leaving that airport, Sydney's father had vehemently disagreed.

"The one advantage we have over Saunders right now is that he thinks he's made a relatively clean getaway," he pointed out. "Anything suspicious happens to LA airspace, he's going to know we're on to him, and he'll disappear. Only this time we won't have any idea where to look."

Vaughn was inclined to agree. However, when he learned that it would take the nearest law enforcement agency twenty additional minutes to get there, he had told him that at this point it would be better if they worked with security to try and do it on their own.

He was now beginning to wish he hadn't used the word 'we' to Dixon.

"We should wait for backup," he was telling Sydney's father as they pulled into the airstrip parking lot.

"While I agree with you in principle, Saunders might be a plane by now," Mr. Bristow pointed out. "We take too much more time, he could take the decision completely out of our hands."

"I'm well aware of that, Jack," Vaughn told him, "and I know we can't afford to lose him. I'm just not convinced that you'd be able to catch him if we do."

"I'm feeling better," Mr. Bristow insisted.

"It's an illusion from whatever you took from the med-kit," Vaughn argued. "I'm still not convinced you'd be able to stand up unsupported."

Jack Bristow's answer was to open the door, get out and jump into his feet.

"Very nice," Vaughn said as he got out as well. "Unfortunately, Saunders has spotted you. Now you have to chase after him."

To his credit, Sydney's father didn't even try to move forward. "You've made your point," he said. "However, you also know me well enough that I'm not just going to sit in the car."

Vaughn had already weighed his options. He replied by taking off his coat. "For starters, you need a change of outfit. A blind man would be suspicious if you appeared on the horizon."

Mr. Bristow didn't argue. Vaughn didn't fail to notice how carefully he took off his coat, as if he know moving to fast would pull something internally. "According to Marshall, this is the main exit," Vaughn continued. If Saunders tries to run, this is probably where he'll come out. If he does, kneecap the bastard and sit on him until backup makes an appearance."

"I'm more than capable of interrogating this man," Sydney's father said as he put on Vaughn's coat.

"Not if he breaks you in two running past him," Vaughn said. "Something which I don't consider impossible"

"Are you trying to get on my bad side?"

He moved his holster behind his back, and got on the radio. "This is Agent Vaughn with CTU. Has anyone got a twenty on our suspect?"

"We've checked the terminal and runways 1 through 4. So far no sign of him.

"Start going through Runway 5. I will meet you on the eastern side of the main concourse."

Vaughn turned to Mr. Bristow. "I can't believe I'm actually saying these words, but don't do anything crazy."

"You've limited my duties to shooting and sitting," Sydney's father said. "Doesn't give me much room to screw around."

"Maybe," Vaughn said. "but I know who's father you are, and she's never been good at following orders."

3:35:07/3:35:08/3:35:09

As Vaughn entered the terminal, he speed-dialed CTU.

"O'Brian."

"Chloe, it's Vaughn. Have you tapped into the airports security system yet?"

"It's a closed-circuit system," Chloe said as if that spoke for itself. "I've been going over footage from the last half-hour trying to see if there's any footage of Saunders."

"And?" Vaughn asked impatiently.

"No sign of him at the entrance or any of the terminals. If he's on the premises, he hasn't come in the usual methods."

Vaughn didn't know Chloe as well as Sydney or Jack, but he'd been working with tech geeks like her to know when one was withholding information. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked.

"It's easier to show you," she told him. "Take out your PDA and turn it to Channel 3."

Wishing again that their techs wouldn't be so theatrical, he did so. Moments later, he had to avoid doing a double take. According to the timestamp, nine minutes ago, Mandy, the woman who had kidnapped and murdered Maya Driscoll had walked up to one of the terminals, and purchased a plane ticket. After doing so, she had walked out of camera.

"Did you contact airport security?" he demanded.

"Five minutes ago, " Chloe responded. "Unfortunately, her description wasn't already out, which is probably why nobody bothered to stop Ms. 'I don't need a bra.' "

"I've been looking for this woman for three hours!" he said in a quietly angry voice. "How the fuck did this happen?"

"No offense, Vaughn, but you're the one who lost her in the first place," Chloe said in that irritatingly abrupt way of hers. "Also around the same time we could have been looking for her, our security system took a hit, and my boss was murdered. We've kind of had our hands full trying to play catch up finding your family, stopping a madman, and saving the world from dying, not necessarily in that order."

Normally, Vaughn was more diplomatic when dealing with complicated techs, but he had passed his threshold for patience several hours ago. "Just tell me that you know where one of the dangerous killers we're pursuing is right now," he demanded angrily.

"According to the camera, she went out the eastern exit," Chloe said. "Towards Terminal 3."

"And go through that footage again," Vaughn ordered as he ran. "I don't think it's a coincidence that we followed him and found her."

An airport guard met Vaughn outside. "Shift in priorities," Vaughn said, taking out his PDA. "Anybody got a twenty on her?"

The guard hesitated before nodding. "I think I saw her headed to runway 3."

"There a flight taking off?"

"We've got a Cessna headed toward Seattle taking off at 4 AM."

"Get your people to surround that plane, quietly." Vaughn told him.

The movement and speech was barely audible. Nevertheless, it was heard . Moments later, the guard was falling to the ground with blood pouring from a hole in the neck.

Stephen Saunders' phone rang. "Yes."

"CTU will be on you any minute," Mandy told him.

"I'll handle it. " Saunders hung up, walked to the seat where the air marshal was sitting, and knocked him out. In a matter of seconds, he held the man's sidearm in his hand.

His first action was to walk over to the flight attendant, pistol raised. "We're about to take a walk to the cockpit," he said casually, as though inviting her to stroll through central park. "You're going to tell the pilot if he doesn't open the door and start following my instructions, I'm going to start killing passengers."

When the guard fell over, Vaughn returned fire instantly, blasting the attacker in the shoulder...

And it wasn't Mandy.

Vaughn shot him in the other shoulder anyway.

"I won't waste another bullet," he told the man as he writhed on the ground. "Where is Stephen Saunders?"

"Where do you think?" the man sputtered.

Before Vaughn had time to process this, his phone rang. "Yeah?"

"It's me," Jack Bristow said. "FAA just received an emergency distress call from Cessna 164 , demanding that they clear the flight for takeoff immediately."

"Saunders is in control of the plane," Vaughn realized.

"How do we stop him?"

Vaughn thought, then walked over to his prisoner, and stomped on his hand hard enough to break a finger. He barely heard the man's scream. "You're going to tell me everything you know about Saunders now."

"I don't know Saunders, " the man muttered

Vaughn stamped on his hand again. "And I know there are more breakable bones on your body," he snarled over the man's shout of pain.

"I'm just a messenger," the man insisted. "I work for Mandy. She sent me out there to send a signal."

"Well, then I guess you know what my next question is," Vaughn told him

"The signal was for her, too," the man insisted. "She's not going to stay around one second longer than necessary."

"Unless she can flap her wings and think lovely thoughts, she can't get away that fast."

3:44:38/3:44:39/3:44:40/3:44:41

Saunders pointed the gun at the co-pilot. "You're going to come help me disconnect from us from the hangar. Try anything funny, you die." He turned to the rest of the crew. "As for the rest of you, when I leave you're going to feel the understandable urge to call for help. However, should you give into that desire, I will have no choice, but to empty my weapon into the fuel tank."

"But… you'd be killed…" the pilot stammered.

"I really don't want to go to prison," Saunders said with a disturbing smile. "Don't test me on that."

"Jack and Sydney were on there way to Santa Monica, Vaughn and Sydney's father are covering the airport, Dixon…" Marshall paused "well you, know where he is, which leaves me thinking you're right about what you said earlier."

"How do we stop Sloane when we find him?" Kim asked.

"You said to put it off until later, I think that four in the morning qualifies," Marshall pointed out. "The floor is open to suggestions."

Kim considered this for a moment. "Well, that I know the least of anyone at APO on Milo Rimbaldi, I'm not sure what kind of advice I can give."

"I think right now, relatively fresh eyes might see a lot clearer than mine."

Kim considered this for several seconds. "Rimbaldi was prophetic, right?"

Marshall shrugged and gave a smile. "From the way he sketched Sydney as the Chosen One, I think that's accurate."

"Then he had to known a lot about how everything he made would be use. I mean, two killer viruses, doomsday weapon, immortality fluid---" Kim shook her head. "This stuff gives me the creeps; in his own time period , trying to explain this would have earned him a trip to the stake."

Marshall considered this. "Well, given Sloane's interpretation of events, Rimbaldi wanted to rid the world of people. It would make sense that he wouldn't have the necessary resources, and would have planned for the long term."

"No, that's not it. If Sloane was right--- and his reasoning has never been objective--- Rimbaldi would have wanted a foolproof plan. But he's given out as many ways to stop these plans as well as to accomplish them," Kim pointed out. "Hell, he as much as drew an arrow identifying Sydney and Nadia as the saviors of the world. Why?"

Marshall considered this. "Well, Sloane's the expert in the field, so he'd have to be at mostly correct."

"So we think Rimbaldi sees the word as one big Sodom and Gomorrah?"

"Yeah. Now, following that train of thought, why would he give us--- which I guess means anyone who isn't Sloane, a way to stop him. We've got a time, a place, and a goal. All we have to do is stop him from killing one of three hostages, though obviously, I'd prefer it with he can save two out of three, I don't know where you are on saving Irina…"

"I'm willing to give that responsibility to Syd," Kim thought for a moment. "Do you think Rimbaldi was the kind of individual who would have planned out something in case his stuff fell into the wrong hands?"

"Well, I think we can agree Sloane's are definitely the wrong hands, so he's not being that particular as to whose…" Marshall trailed off, as something very plausible occurred to him

"Marshall?'

"It's in the writings somewhere. Has to be." Marshall began typing on his screen. "I'm going to be sending a datafile to you."

"What are you getting at, Marshall??"

"Rimbaldi was a genius. Probably a lunatic as well, but there's a thin line between genius and insanity. I should know better than anyone .else," Marshall kept typing.

"And?"

"No genius--- no matter what time period he lives in--- doesn't do something this massive, without some kind of fail-safe."

"So what, we're going to go thorough everything Rimbaldi designed and hope to find in two hours what no one has located in five hundred years?" Kim said with only the slightest tinge of disbelief.

"Got a better solution?" Marshall countered.

Kim shook her head. "What's the file name?"

3:51:03/3:51:04/3:51:05/3:51:06

"This guy says that Mandy's still on the premises?" Dixon asked.

"She was as of fifteen minutes ago," Vaughn told him. "And since she's definitely not stupid enough to make a bolt for it while the airport's surrounded with federal agents, she's probably still here. I'm heading to where my would-be hostile says he last talked with her."

"If she smart enough to stay hidden, she's also smart enough to have taken to a better hiding place then the one where she was last seen," Dixon pointed out. "And she's definitely smart enough to avoid the surveillance."

"Considering how tight security is now, she knows that getting out is nearly impossible," Vaughn reasoned. "Which means she'll take one of two approaches: when surrounded, she'll surrender, and try to cut some kind of deal for herself in exchange for her freedom, which she could manage if she knows where to find Sloane."

"Or?"

"Saunders is obviously planning some kind of bloodshed," Vaughn reminded him. "She'll wait till it starts, then make a run for her freedom. If she does, I'll be able to make a move to catch her."

"That's a hell of a risk," Dixon admitted.

"We're running out of time for safe plays," Vaughn said. "We need to go for a blitz."

"You've been hanging around Jack too long."

"Which one?"

"Bristow."

Vaughn considered that a compliment, but before he could say anything to that effect, he saw something. "I'll call you back," he said and hung up.

He had reached one of the few hangars in the airport that wasn't currently occupied... Well, not entirely. There was a dead mechanic on the floor.

She's not being subtle anymore, Vaughn thought as he took out his weapon. As he did, he passed through one of the giant windows in the building. He saw a glimmer of something in the corner of eye, and ducked

A split second later, there was a bullet in the wall above him.

He whirled and fired a shot. "Give it up!" Vaughn shouted. "There's no way out."

Mandy didn't answer, she just fired a second shot

Vaughn ducked behind a wall, and prepared to handle this one way or another.

The co-pilot had just finished disconnecting the hose, and was walking moving back towards Saunders, when a man stepped out of the shadows

"Give it up," Jack Bristow said. "You have nowhere to run."

Saunders looked at him with some amusement. "Whose messenger are you?" he asked. "Doesn't matter. I still have a plane full of hostages, and if anymore of your people come this close, starting with him, they will die."

"I'd reconsider that policy if I were you," Mr. Bristow said just as coldly

"WHY?"

"If my some miracle you should manage to get the plane in the air—which you won't by the way," Jack Bristow said, "we're scrambling an F18 to shoot the plane out of the sky."

A flicker of concern crossed Saunders' face. "That decision would spit in the face of every anti-terror policy this government supposedly stands for," he pointed out.

"That's how dangerous an enemy you are to this country," Sydney's father said. "The people on that plane are now considered acceptable collateral damage."

"You're bluffing."

'I don't bluff, Mr. Saunders," Jack Bristow told him. "We don't like wasting American lives, but if you don't give us any information, you'll be responsible for the deaths of millions. Shooting that man won't change any—"

Jack Bristow saw what was coming, and tried to react, but the injuries he had sustained and the fact that Saunders was younger gave the Brit an advantage from the start.

Saunders shot him in the chest, and he fell to the ground.

"You were wrong about that, at least," Saunders said as he pulled the co-pilot in, leaving Jack Bristow to bleed out.

3:59:57/3:59:58/3:59:59/4:00:00