Sorry for the long wait, school is keeping me down… :) Review please.

If I don't get out of the house in six minutes I'm going to miss the buss. Honestly, I have the slowest computer in the world. I kept clicking 'print the page' but my copy machine was taking forever to wake up and load. Click! Click! Click! My mouse surfed across the CTU homepage. I found out that CTU is supposed to be this top secret organization standing for Counter Terrorist Unit. They were about as secret as the U.S. Secret Service. Not very secretive at all, and worse, they had a homepage.

The address was a tad bit more difficult to find, but my Computer Literature in freshman year was an ex-hacker, so it was not as difficult to find. The L.A. before the CTU was a dead giveaway. Now that I narrowed it down to state and city, a click towards yellow pages dot com, and I even got their front phone number. The headquarters were in downtown, about seven miles from my high school; guess I'm ditching today, oh what a shame.

Yes! Finally! The printer beeped and the address slid out on a warm, crisp sheet of printer paper. I folded it up twice, shoving it deep into the back pocket of my jeans. Grabbing my turquoise JanSport backpack off of my bed, I ran out of the door, only to dash back into my room and exit out of the CTU page. My Madre would destroy me if she found out. Talk about strict, eh?

I bombarded down my dad's prized staircase, wooden steps carpeted with a plush tan carpet, iron-work bars and a glossy, sandalwood banister. I jogged into the kitchen, swiping a blueberry muffin off of a plate set in the middle of the black-granite island counter. Bad news. My mom was there. She lowered her copy of the Los Angeles Times and peered at me over her mug of coffee.

Must get out now. "Cali?" She called out softly, blowing her perfect bleach-blonde hair out of her perfect eye makeup. I could only wish to be like her.

I stopped in my tracks abruptly, this can't be good. "Yeah?"

She bit her lip, looking awkward. "Listen…about last night…"

Sigh. "Look mom, can we talk about this later? I'm going to be late for the bus." Biggest lie in the world.

She looked a little hurt, she'll get over it. Then she smiled suddenly, but it did not reach her pretty green eyes. "Do you want a ride?"

"No!" I cried, realizing that it might make her suspicious, I added. "My BFF is on that bus." I didn't even have a BFF.

She nodded. "All right. Have a good day!"

Awkward. "Yeah, you too."

"Love you!" She called after me, but too late, I was already out the door.

Instead of going to my school bus stop, I walked a few blocks down our suburbs and waited at the county bus stop. I had to wait for thirty minutes, it was late and so was I. School had already started. I guess this was for sure now, no turning back. It pulled up in front of me and some really old Asian dude, blowing gray, smelly engine exhaust into our faces. The poor guy coughed. Sigh. I know how he felt.

The doors slid open and I climbed up the steps, pressing two dollar bills into the chubby bus driver's opened palm. It was half full already, men and women in business suits, two homeless men, and three old ladies with yarn and big long needles, gossiping about the spouses of their grown up children. I smiled at people who did not acknowledge me, and disheartened, I went to sit in the very back.

I pulled out my Android phone, shoving earphones into the outlet and then winding both of them into my ears. I clicked shuffle music, and ended up listening to 'Run This Town.' I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window. The bust had seven stops to make before mine, so I had some time to think about what I'm doing, and what I'm going to say when I come face to face with my grandpa who wants nothing to do with me.

Just as the bus pulled up on a crowded L.A. street, which was my stop, My Music switched to 'Airplanes', and I pulled the earphones out of my ears, wrapping the cord around my phone and shoving it into my pocket. I took deep breathes to calm myself down. Frankly, I was terrified. I never did anything like this before in all of my sixteen years. If I get caught my mom will murder me and Gramps won't even attend my funeral. My life sucks.

I stepped out of the bus and watched it drive away, getting lost in the crowd of people swarming around me. I tried to steady my nerves, but the adrenaline was too strong and no calming tactic was working for me. I pulled out the computer paper with the address of CTU printed on it from my back pocket, unfolding it and reading between the creases in the paper.

Yeah. Cali and directions do not mix. I stopped some guy in a Hugo Boss business suit and asked him where '1260 Furneaux Rd' was. The hells a Furneaux? He told me to keep walking straight and I'll run into it. Thanks for the help, buddy. A little vague, don't you think? But I followed his advice, and ran into an oddly deserted road, considering the amount of track on the street before it.

I turned on it and at the very end was a large, complex building with no windows, a metallic green and futuristic looking, with at least two stories. There was a fenced in parking lot in front of it, with a lot of fancy looking cars, including a shiny black Hummer I knew my dad would kill for. When I approached closer, I noticed cameras were angled in every direction, everything about this place screamed to: U.S. Military Property. Keep out!

I ignored the warning, and went around to find the door. They had no doors! What the heck is this about? Then I noticed two sliding metal doors, but they were inside the fenced in parking lot, and I did not have a key card to get in. But then again, I climbed a fence before, I was just a little nervous about the barbed wire on top. Wish me luck.

I inhaled deeply, and swung my arm, heaving my backpack over the fence, watching it sail through the air and land with a loud crash on the pavement on the other side. Then I spat on my palms like they do in movies, rubbed them together, and then with disgust, wiped them down on my jeans. Then I shoved my fingers and Converse feet into the holes of the chain link fence, and began scaling up.

Again, the bloody barbed wire. I tried not to touch, but as my right leg floated over the top, the fabric of my skinny jeans caught on the side and it shocked me. I guess it was a minor shock, since I'm still alive, but it was enough to scare the crap out of me, and for me to lose my balance I came toppling down the side of the fifteen-foot fence, landing hard in the parking lot.

Everything hurt and everything was sore. I landed on my arm and now I can't bend my wrist without it hurting like hell. But worse, a loud siren started to ring and all the cameras on the parking lot were pointed at me. Childishly, I began to cry. This was such a bad idea. Now the government is going to come out of those doors and call my mom so she can drag me to the hospital to have my wrist x-rayed and ground me for the rest of my life.

Indeed, the doors flew open; and you know what that means…big guys with guns. Four men and two women surrounded me, waving ugly metallic-grey weapons at me, looking very lethal, into my tear-streaked face. The siren kept wailing and the six of them started screaming at me, and that only terrified my more, again a very bad idea. They kept screaming one word at me: FREEZE!

Believe me, I froze.

I gawked at them, my eyes watery and my mouth open, my heart-pounding so loudly in my ears that it muted their screaming. Then, I guess they realized I was just another stupid kid that was scaling their fence, and they lowered their weapons. They stopped screaming, and watched me in a scrutinizing way that made me feel like some messed-up science experiment.

"What's were you doing?" One of them demanded, his voice was soft but it still held the tone of seriousness. His weapon was lowered at his side, but it was not in his holster.

I only stared at him.

Then a chick that looked somewhat like Eva Longoria spoke softly to me in a comforting tone."What's your name, honey?" It's not very comforting when your gun is in my face, lady. She seemed to notice my uneasiness, and lowered it a fraction of an inch.

The guy who spoke to me earlier, probably their leader, jerked his head at the door. "Her arm is bleeding. Take her inside."

I looked down at my arms and wailed like a big baby, finding that his words were true. I was terrified of blood, and it made me nauseous. The security team exchanged looks with each other, bemused at my abrupt tears and wails. Two of them kneeled down and helped me up, up-righting me body before I slouched back on one of them, in the end they gave up and dragged me towards the big metal door.

I let myself be dragged, too terrified to move. Now the US Government is going to pull up my file and call my mom. I'd rather have them torture me than face my mother. My mother tends to get a little…scary. I was led down a long, bare hall with no windows, only fluorescent lights, pushing through another door before breaking into a vast room with more lights and lots of desks, people with phones pressed to their ears and frowns on their faces.

A smarty, important-looking woman with messy dirty-blonde hair pulled up in a high pony tail stopped what she was doing, and stared at me oddly. Gosh, I feel so welcomed here. Sharply, she stood up from her computer, briskly walking around her desk and coming closer towards us, her speed increasing the nearer she came. She halted in front of the Eva-Longoria look-alike security guard, and narrowed her eyes at her.

"What is this?" She demanded, jerking her chin at me, her powerful-looking fists on her narrow hips and feet planted apart.

The security guard, whom I was cowering behind, appeared unmoved, as if she was used to this lady who needed to work on her people skills. "She climbed over our fence, and triggered the alarm."

The woman snapped her head at me in annoyance, peering down her nose at me in a way that made me feel like something on the bottom of her shoe. "Just what we need, some delinquent trespassing on government property." She muttered. I winced, my eyes dropping from her face in shame, resting down on a glossy nametag that was pinned to her lavender, satin shirt.

'O'Brian.' It read.

She sighed heavily, turning around and strolling purposely away from us. "I'll pull up her file, if you give me the name, I'm sure the parents would want to collect their child." She called back over her shoulder.

At that moment, I found my voice. "Jack Bauer!" I shouted after her like a lunatic.

She stopped abruptly, as if I struck her with the name. Slowly, she turned around on one heal, narrowing her eyes at me in curiosity. "How do you know him?"

"Is he here?" I asked meekly. She didn't answer, waiting for my reply. "I'm his…he's me…grandfather."

Gasping all around, except for Miss O'Brian, she folded her arms over her chest coolly, her expression changed immediately."Tell me, Kid, why didn't you just use the front door?"

The security guards snickered and I reddened. "I…I couldn't find it." I mumbled.

She gave a quick nod. "Mmm-hmm. I'll take you to the medical center and have our doctors check out that arm. Meanwhile, I'll go speak to Jack."

"He's here?" I asked excitedly.

She nodded with the tiniest of smiles. "Come with me. Dismissed." She muttered at the guards.

I followed her down the hall again in silence, as she rounded corners and passed through doors as if she knew the building complex like the back of her hand. In a few moments, we entered through the medical wing, and followed her through sliding glass doors and paused in a large room, designed like a mini-hospital. It all looked very sophisticated.

She sat me down on a fresh cot. "We need all of this for the line of dangerous work that we do." She explained, almost proudly, after noticing my bemused expression. "Wait here, a doctor will be with you shortly." Then she left me all alone.

After a few minutes, some old guy in a white doctor's coat came in and started to wordlessly oke at my arm. I winced and hissed whenever it hurt, but he just kept doing his thing. Then he left and came back with more materials. He cleaned away the cut, washing the sticky, drying blood off of my skin, and wrapped it in a fresh linen bandage. Then he secured a strap-on around my wrist..

"Sprained." He muttered, leaving me alone again. Perfect. Just perfect-o. How am I going to explain this to my mom? My mom's not gonna believe I sprained it by opening my locker at school.

I sat in silence, staring at the ceiling with blurry vision. I felt really sleepy, and I was debating on whether or not to just collapse on the cot when the O'Brian chick returned, and behind her was no other than Gramps. Jack Bauer strolled in purposely, appearing none-too-happy with me, his jaw set, his nostrils a-flare, and his eyes locked on me. I cringed. Not good.

"I asked you never to look for me again." He growled towering before me. I flinched, that hurt beyond words.

"I..I.." Stuttered.

"Did I tell you or not?" His voice was becoming louder, and mine was becoming smaller.

I scooted away from his slowly, then nodded. "Yeah." I squeaked.

"What would your mother say? She'd have my head. Damn it! Why don't you listen!" He roared, and I ducked my head.

I sniffed. "I th-thought you might want to see me. I wanted to see you."

Light flickered in his eyes, but it was extinguished by more hardening anger. "What I want is for you to stay away, damn it!"

I drew in a sharp breath. That really, really hurt, and even Miss O'Brian looked shocked with what he said. "Jack…" She protested.

"Stay out of this, Chloe." He muttered, not-unkindly, his eyes never leaving my face.

I started to cry again, right there in front of them. Hunger was gnawing at my stomach, my wrist hurt, and not he added insult to injury. He didn't want me. At all. "I'm-I'm…so sorry." I sniffed, my tear-blurred eyesight made it impossible to see his face. "This was a bad idea. Sorry."'

I hoped off the bed, and ran as fast as I could. Both adults turned around sharply, calling at me to stop. I felt one of them grab my elbow, but I twisted away, dashing out of the medical wing and down the hall. I had no idea where I was going, which made running away seem more and more like a dumb idea. I could hear Jack shouting at me, and then somebody running after me.

I picked up my pace, rounding the corner and bumping into someone. "S-sorry." I tried to side step them but they grabbed me.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?" It was a guy, and his words were comforting. I stopped, I didn't feel like running anymore, and I was still scared.

I looked up his calm face, dragging a sleeve over my arms to blot out the tears and be able to see more clearly. His face was tired, and he had really dark hair and appeared Hispanic. Before he could say anything else, Jack and Chloe rounded the corner. "Tony!" He shouted at him. "Hold her right there!"

Review? *Hint hint* :)