Chapter 17 and 18
Chapter 17
Hours later, Maria was more than ready to go home. She was looking forward to a closet full of her own cloths and the privacy and comfort of her own bed. And speaking English again would be nice.
She stepped out of the Salazar house onto the expansive front porch, an ice cold bottle of water in her hand. Now that the courtyard was quiet, devoid of all the men and activity of earlier today, and the scorching afternoon heat had begun to dissipate, she could appreciate how pretty the house and grounds were. What was ugly was the way the money that paid for all this was earned.
They, Jack, Tony, and her, had spent the better part of the afternoon combing through the cartel records, making sure that had all that they could find before they left the ranch behind. Even just having had the time to only scratch the surface, the depth of the cartel's infiltration and control was incredible. Much of the drug related information would be sent off to the DEA. It was the terrorist connections they wanted. Unfortunately, those records were sparser and more deeply buried.
Jack Bauer had not worked to hide his frustration at the timing of the raid, although he'd said little aloud. The entire day he'd been edgy and irascible. To Maria, he even appeared ill at times, sweating in the cool air conditioning, rubbing at a presumed headache, making frequent trips to the restroom. She hadn't had a chance to speak to Tony about him yet. But she thought he should see a doctor when they were back in LA.
Chapelle had flown back to LA with Salazar who was now safely ensconced in the Federal facility. She remembered the strange look on Jack's face when she'd announced this after Ryan had called her. Was it relief? Disbelief?
He'd left the room quietly. A few minutes later, carrying some records out to the truck, she'd caught a glimpse of him leaning heavily against a wall further along the hall, his head down. He'd looked so sad. She didn't understand why he didn't share the sense of relief and accomplishment the rest of them felt. If anyone should relish in this victory, it should be Jack. He'd done incredible work.
Finishing the last few drops in her water bottle, she headed back to the office, knowing the shorter the break, the faster they'd get out of here.
"You don't fucking understand."
The words weren't loud, but they were filled with vehemence. Enough so that Maria stopped in her tracks well short of the open double doors of the office.
"Then explain it to me Jack. You didn't contact us for over two weeks. I, for one, was convinced you were dead," Tony countered. "How do you think that felt, huh? Convinced we were going to spend our time here looking for your body? Just what the hell were we supposed to do?"
"Trust me," Jack growled. "Trust that I knew the fuck what I was doing. Instead of barging in here before I had it all."
Then his voice changed. "Two more fucking weeks, Tony. Two. The players would all have been here. We'd have had them all in our hands." His anger fueled frustration was palpable, radiating in waves even to her hiding place outside the doors.
"What do you mean?" Tony asked, staying calm in the face of Jack's anger.
She heard the desk chair creak as one of them sat heavily into it.
"I don't know the details. Ramon was just about to let me in." His voice quiet now, he seemingly paused to consider, yet again, how frustrated he was. "But before the end of the month there was going to be a conference…here, at the ranch. The terror groups he was working with were coming to draw up agreements…and talk weaponry. That's all I know."
"Is that here somewhere, in these records?" Tony asked hopefully, the significance of what Jack was saying making his words more subdued than just a minute ago.
Jack paused. "I don't know Tony. I fucking don't know. I was so close…I needed just a little more time."
Maria knew Jack enough to know that he wasn't, but the sound of his voice made her think he was about to cry in frustration.
"Then you should have contacted us," Tony retorted defensively.
"Don't you fucking think I would have if I could?" Jack hissed, barely holding his temper in check. "Don't you think I knew that Chapelle would come charging in here the second I missed a couple of check-ins?"
"Then why didn't you?" Tony asked. "Jack, why didn't you call in?"
There was quiet. Neither man spoke. Maria knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but couldn't stop herself. Once back at CTU, she was likely to be shipped back to San Diego as the investigation went on in LA. She wanted to know the details—and it was now or never.
"Jack," Tony began. Maria could hear the concern for his friend in his voice. Tony was a good guy. She was glad it was him she'd had to spend this time with. "Where were you…what was going on?"
Maria heard the chair creak once more and knew it was Jack who had just risen out of it.
"Not now Tony," Jack said softly.
"Okay, Jack, but when?" Tony paused, but his question had been rhetorical. He continued, knowing Jack wasn't going to talk about whatever it was that had happened but trying anyway.
"Jack, I don't know what the fuck went on down here…but it must have been hell. I heard the stories in the villages…what Ramon does. I know he tested you. I know you had to do what he asked."
"What the hell is your point, Tony?" Jack cut him off, clearly wanting to end this line of conversation. "We have work to do."
"My point is, Jack," Tony continued undeterred by Jack's attempted bullying, "that something is wrong. From the minute I first saw you, Jack, there was something." Tony left it open for Jack to fill in what was different, what had happened…or had been done…to him. But, of course, Jack didn't. So she heard Tony's voice again.
"Jack, you're my friend. I want to help you. If you can't put it in the reports, I'll listen. Whatever you tell me stays between us. I'd like you to talk to me. No one who hasn't been down here, no one who hasn't seen what Ramon Salazar can do, could understand. I've seen it Jack."
After another pause that made his words sound like the lie they were, Jack responded. "Nothing happened, Tony. I'm just tired. That's all."
"Alright, Jack, you're fine." Tony's voice was resigned to Jack's denial.
The wounds were still too fresh to talk about. Jack appreciated what Tony was saying. He appreciated that Tony had some understanding of Ramon. But whatever Tony knew wasn't a fraction of the truth. No one could know how deep Ramon's depravity went and how far Jack himself had dived down with him. No one, including Tony, would ever know.
They both looked uncomfortably at Lopez as she came back from a break. Jack and Tony in unison returned to what they'd been doing before, both now distracted by what had been said and what had not been.
He stopped sorting through the pile of documents and stared down at his shirt sleeve where the tattoo throbbed underneath. She knew. The Lady knew what he'd done, let Ramon do…and she'd never let him forget.
The sheet of paper he'd picked up shook in his tremulous hand. He'd put it off all day. He hadn't fixed since just after midnight. He'd seen the woman, Lopez, looking at him. Hopefully she thought he just had a Mexican bug. He wished that's all it was. If he started vomiting, even Tony would see he was more than just tired.
"Tony," Jack said, "can you spare me a few minutes…I'd like to go get my personal things together." He purposely avoided saying "I have to pack." Those words gave him images of a hotel room and a vacation. This had not been a vacation.
"Sure, Jack," Tony said. "I'm sorry, I should have thought you'd need some time." Christ, the guy had been here for six months. Of course he would need to do more than hop into a jeep and drive off the ranch. Tony's thoughts went back to the woman, Claudia, and what had happened between Jack and her earlier. From what Tony had seen, a few minutes was not going to be enough.
"Thanks," Jack mumbled on his way out. Out on the porch he took a deep gulp of the evening air and tried to relax. Without thinking, he rubbed again at his aching forehead thinking forward to a fix and getting out of here. He wasn't deluding himself that things would be much better once he returned to LA. Too much of Mexico was coming with him…not the least of which was Ramon Salazar himself.
"Hey, Jack."
The voice was both welcome and not. Chase was a good kid, and seeing familiar faces, speaking English, it all felt good—at least comparatively. But right now, Jack didn't want to talk.
He was tired of looking into all their concerned and earnest faces and pretending he wasn't exhausted, frustrated, and in withdrawal. And pretending that Ramon was just another Federal prisoner now…not a controlling and sick bastard who'd raped him last night. Pretending that he himself wasn't a man who'd let himself be sucked totally and completely into Ramon's world to the point where he'd allowed it to happen.
These people, supposedly his friends and colleagues, thought they were one cohesive unit working for the same cause. But he wasn't like them anymore. He was in limbo between the two worlds, theirs and Ramon's. He felt utterly alone. And he wanted to be left alone to lick his wounds and try to figure a way back to normalcy, away from Oscar, and Claudia, and the accusing faces of all those men sitting cuffed in the courtyard who had trusted him.
But Jack stopped and waited for Chase to catch up. It was what he had to do to stay in the happy family.
"Yeah, Chase?" The effort to feign concern and interest was seriously beginning to weigh him down.
He saw Chase pause to study him and was relieved when he didn't ask. Jack didn't think he could say the word 'fine' even once more.
"I'm trying to put out fires with the local officials."
Jack said nothing. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. He could do nothing to hide the sweat that beaded on his forehead and dampened his shirt even in the cool evening air.
"Anyway," Chase continued when Jack remained quiet. "They're not going to hold on to Salazar's men very long."
Jack wanted to laugh. He could have told Chase that this morning and saved him a lot of work. "I'm not surprised. Even under arrest in the States, they're scared of him. And there's still Hector to worry about," he offered flatly. "Give me a few minutes. I'll get you a list of a few names…the ones who are dangerous. The rest…" He paused, thinking of Pablo, and some of the others, good men in the wrong place. At least he could help them out after betraying them. "The rest aren't a threat. In fact, most of them will be glad to get out of here alive. They won't be back."
Chase nodded his head. He could bargain the safe ones to keep the dangerous ones locked up. "Thanks, Jack that would help." There was an awkward silence. "Is he really that bad?" Chase asked too innocently.
Jack said nothing for a second, planning to say nothing, miffed at Chase for being so fucking ignorant. Then, as he turned towards his quarters he heard himself say aloud, "He's worse."
In the few seconds it took to reach his room, his stomach couldn't take anymore. He ran to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. He shucked his shirt off and threw it on the floor. As he washed up in the sink, he avoided looking in the mirror. He didn't want to see himself. He toweled off and reached for his kit, Ramon's gift, unhidden next to his razor and toothbrush. In this world, this was the only thing he didn't have to hide.
That would change soon. He knew he wasn't going to quit today, or tomorrow, or even in any future that included Ramon. He'd quit when this was truly and finally over. Until then, he was too weak to survive without the crutch. He'd gone through withdrawal twice now, both times had been hell. Trying a third time was unfathomable. So, this kit and this problem would be hidden from now on.
He sat down on the bed and zipped open the fine leather pouch. The five vials held snuggly in five small recesses were all full. Plenty of shit to be had when you had Ramon Salazar as a friend. He envisioned a future of having to make scores on the streets of LA. His stomach churned at the thought. But that didn't stop him from filling a syringe. He only had enough control to stop the plunger from going all the way down. He'd automatically filled the syringe with his usual dose—enough to knock him out and let him sleep.
Images of Chase or Tony finding him passed out on his bed, high as a kite made him laugh aloud. Then he thought about the possible benefits. There'd be no more Ramon to debrief and bargain with. They'd throw his ass in detox and take the decision to quit away from him. No more dope.
And no more job. No more self respect. And possibly no conviction. Testimony from a known junkie just might not fly…at least not enough to convict Ramon Salazar. Ramon's high priced lawyers would see to that. And, Jack thought to his horror, they might just go as far as to trot out the story of what had happened last night. Oh, God.
Jack injected enough to take away the withdrawal but allow him to function. Still the rush was good; good enough to let his body flop bonelessly back on to his bed and make him groan with relief.
The relief was short lived. He was only able to revel in the high for a minute or so before he had to fight through the pleasant fog, as a knock on the door forced him reluctantly back to the real world. Why the fuck couldn't they leave him alone? He scrambled to find all his stuff and throw it back into the black leather pouch. The knock came again. He shoved the kit under the bed and went to the door.
Maria knocked then glanced around nervously on the small porch. This was a job she'd preferred Tony do himself. In all honesty, Bauer was more intimidating than she'd like to admit. His nervous anxiety, his simmering anger, and those hard blue eyes had been working on her all day. She'd only admitted it to herself after eavesdropping on their argument.
Bauer had survived Ramon Salazar. He'd matched him—and actually beat him. At first she'd been impressed, now that she's had time to think about what that had taken, she was still impressed but a little leery of him as well. What kind of man did it take to do that?
If Tony needed the key to the damn filing cabinet, he should have not let Jack walk away with it…or at least waited until he came back. She knocked again too soon, wanting to get this over with.
When he came to the door he was shirtless. And he wasn't smiling.
"I'm….I'm sorry to bother you," Maria stammered like a school girl in front of the half naked agent. Oh, fuck this, he's not going to kill you. After all she'd been through on this mission, the risks she'd taken, she was furious with herself for being intimidated by the man in front of her.
"What is it?" he asked flatly.
"Tony needs the key." She paused when he looked confused. "To the filing cabinet. He said you had it. We're almost done and he's in a hurry. He didn't want to wait," she went on, feeling a need to explain.
He was already fumbling in the pockets of his faded jeans before she shut up. She couldn't help but watch his sinewy muscles move under too little body fat and his well tanned skin. He seemed oblivious to the fading but still ugly bruises that drew her eye. What the hell caused those? Then she remembered Oscar—not only his horrible death, but his stories about Ramon and punishment. And Jack's refusal to tell Tony anything about the last two weeks was fresh in her mind. She suppressed a shiver.
"Damn," Jack mumbled to himself, turning away from her and the gaping door. "I'll be right back."
Two things struck her as he walked away. First, the odd tattoo on his left forearm and, second, the unmistakable fading lash marks on his back she saw before he disappeared into the bathroom. He was back before she could process them.
"Here," he said, thrusting the key at her.
Maria's eye scanned the tattoo, her curiosity winning out and forcing her eyes to take one more quick look. That's when the small smear of blood over the vein on his arm, just above the ink, caught her eye. It wasn't much, and few would even notice. But years on the narcotics squad of the San Diego police department had trained her to notice.
It all made sense. She just couldn't believe it.
"Thanks," she said and turned to flee, already trying to manage what she should do with this unwanted information.
"Wait a second," he said to her already turned back. She was sure he'd seen where her eye had gone. Now she felt like she'd been out and out staring at that large vein on his arm, as if there was a large red arrow pointing to the needle mark that said 'look here'. He had to have noticed. "Can you give something to Chase for me?"
When she turned back, she couldn't read his face. He had the same hard stare he'd had all day…except, now that she knew, she noticed the subtle change in his eyes from the drug.
"Sure," she lied, wanted nothing more than to escape those eyes.
"Hold on a second."
The way he paused, the way he scanned her told her immediately that he knew that she knew. Of course he would notice. Even high, Jack Bauer wouldn't miss how she had reacted and tried to cover it. She waited for him to say something. He didn't.
For a second time, she stood at the door as he walked away. She watched as he took a moment and grabbed a clean shirt out of a drawer and pulled it over his head. She couldn't help but note the crisp white tee shirt had long sleeves. Then he walked over to a small desk. Without sitting, he wrote for several seconds on a notepad and returned to her.
"Chase asked for these," he said simply, handing her the note with four names. His hands weren't shaking anymore, like they had been in the study, when she'd thought he'd been ill.
Okay," she said, taking the small piece of paper from him. He wasn't going to say anything. Despite knowing she could ruin him with what she knew, he was going to let her walk away without a word. He was either very brave and sure of himself, or a total fool.
The door closed before she had even turned around. Maria walked down the steps and paused, taking a deep breath. Oh fuck. She cursed Tony once again for sending her on this errand. When she looked up, she saw Claudia looking down at her from a second floor balcony across the length of the house. Their eyes met briefly before the other woman disappeared back into the house.
The weight of this place fell on her at that moment. The dark eyed woman and her stare. The chiseled faces of the men in the courtyard. She remembered Salazar's arrogant smirk as he was arrested and cuffed. And the hollow looks of the villagers. Then it occurred to her that maybe, after all this, living with it for half a year…that maybe Jack Bauer was just too tired to care if some junior agent knew he was an addict. After surviving all this, how could Maria Lopez possibly do him any more harm?
Claudia had just gotten Sergio to fall asleep in her bed. His world had been turned upside down once again. Too soon after he'd come to terms with the death of their mother. He'd been crying most of the evening after watching the unmarked truck drive away with his father. He was exhausted. For that matter, so was Claudia. But she wouldn't sleep until these people had left the ranch…until Jack had left the ranch.
She had only been on the balcony a few minutes before she'd seen Jack come out of the house and walk to his room. She'd stood and fought an initial urge to go to him. He'd be packing to leave. And he'd probably fix. Fucking Ramon, what he'd done. She hoped he rotted in an American prison forever.
Several minutes later, the woman agent had crossed to Jack's door and knocked. When Jack had appeared at the door, Claudia's heart had throbbed. Two weeks ago, all she had thought of was escaping this place with him. Now she had rejected him.
Had her words been true? Did she really not know him? His last name had changed. That he was an undercover Federale…didn't that simply explain all the things about him she had loved but not understood? None of this really changed him.
But it frightened her. The world he would take her to was more foreign, frightening, and uncertain than even remaining here with Hector. Until he was gone, and the choice to flee was no longer an option, not until then could she rest. She knew she couldn't go to him.
Claudia retreated into the shadow of the house so Jack wouldn't see her as she watched. Jack disappeared and when he returned he was dressed. When the woman walked away with whatever he had handed her, Claudia stepped to the railing, somehow feeling possessive, wanting the American agent to see that she had been watching.
When the woman had looked up, her face had been strange. She'd seen that look on her little brother's face when she'd caught him at something he shouldn't be doing…which happened too often. She knew the look. What had the woman seen?
In a flash, Claudia found herself going downstairs. She intercepted the other woman on the porch. Her presence startled the agent.
"Claudia," the woman greeted simply.
Claudia didn't know what she intended to say. She didn't even understand why she was on this porch talking to this woman, except that through her, she had a connection to Jack without the danger of being with him.
"Is he okay?" she asked.
At the stupid question, the agent looked at her quizzically.
"Excuse me?" the agent asked.
"Jack…he hasn't been well…" Claudia stammered, wishing she'd stayed upstairs. Agent Lopez was trying to read her.
"He's been ill?"
Claudia paused, taking her turn to do the reading. Her initial impression told her she was correct. Somehow Jack had given something away.
"What did you see?" she asked straight out, now knowing why she was down here. She was protecting Jack from what Ramon had done to him.
"What do you mean?" the agent asked unconvincingly. Instantly, Claudia knew she'd been right. Instead of answering she stared, waiting for Agent Lopez to talk.
"I saw enough," Lopez finally answered, looking down at the floor, angry at herself for being, in her surprise at the discovery, so transparent.
"What are you going to do?" Claudia asked, not knowing what she could possibly say or do to change anything the American had planned.
"I don't know."
That wasn't good enough. "Don't judge him," Claudia demanded simply, deciding that maybe explaining the truth was the best way.
Lopez looked disgusted. "Don't judge him?" she asked incredulous. "He's a junkie. A high ranking federal agent who's addicted to heroin. It's impossible not to judge him."
The two women stared at each other before Maria continued. "And why do you care? Didn't he…" The agent stopped.
Claudia interrupted to show she knew very well what Jack had done. "…deceive me. Lie to me. Tear apart my home."
"…hurt you?" Maria finished the sentence she had begun, not as an agent, but as a woman who'd seen what had happened between Jack and Claudia this morning.
Claudia's face burned at the intrusion, at her tears from this morning being thrown back in her face by a stranger. But she was the one who had started this. "Jack was the best thing I've had in my life for a long time," she whispered. I can't hate him for not being like the men he worked for. I won't."
She continued, afraid if she stopped she'd break down. She wouldn't cry in front of this woman who did a man's job. "And he never hurt me. He never would. He was the one who was hurt. Ramon Salazar…" she stopped considering her words carefully. Upstairs, in her room, she'd been thinking. Jack's people could never know the things he'd done for Ramon. In fact, she herself was having trouble understanding how he'd done them.
"What?" Lopez asked impatiently. "Ramon what?"
"Ramon did this to him." Lopez didn't have to know Jack had come here already addicted. But he'd quit. He'd been free until Ramon had put him under again.
"By what, injuring him? He was in so much pain he needed the heroin?" Lopez surmised unsympathetically.
"No," Claudia defended. "Ramon did injure him, but he would never have turned to the drug—not just because of pain."
"Then how? Ramon tied him down and injected the drug himself?" she asked sarcastically, growing annoyed that Claudia was trying to defend Jack's habit.
Claudia paused, still unsure that even knowing the truth, this woman wasn't going to ruin Jack anyway. She obviously didn't know Jack well, or she never would have assumed what she just had about needing the drug for the pain.
"Yes."
"Pardon me?" asked a now confused Maria.
"Yes…to your question."
"To my question…" Maria Lopez stopped to remember what her last question had been. Ramon tied him down and injected the drug himself? That question?
Claudia saw Maria's eyes grow wide as it dawned on her what Claudia was telling her. Ramon had forced Jack Bauer to become an addict.
Maria Lopez didn't want to believe this woman…that Ramon Salazar would do that. Why would he do that? But the answer came to her immediately. Power. He would have power over a weakened man.
And why would she lie? If Jack was embedded and alone down here, isolated as he was, could he have done anything to stop it? He'd been missing for two weeks. She remembered him dodging Tony's direct question about his disappearance in the office a little while ago. Was that where he had been?
"Yes," Claudia repeated once more softly, as if reading her mind and to dispel any lingering doubt. But her eyes were elsewhere.
She turned to look at what Claudia was seeing. Behind her, forty meters away, Jack was standing and staring at them. No, not at them…he was staring at Claudia. If there had been any doubt about what their relationship had been, there was none now. The pain was palpable.
Maria turned back to Claudia. "I understand," she said simply. She wondered if Claudia had even heard her as she turned and walked away. When she glanced where he'd been, Jack was already gone.
Behind her she swore she heard a feminine voice say "Tell him I'm sorry."
Maria would never tell Jack Bauer that his lover had asked her to apologize to him in her stead. But neither would she tell Jack's secret. He had friends in Chase and Tony. They would see eventually. It wasn't her place to bring Jack Bauer down. Seeing all this, the Salazars, the woman, his survival, she had to wonder if that was even possible.
Chapter 18
Jack was exhausted and barely holding his emotions in check. Six months had passed, but it felt like so much longer. He'd been with Claudia three of those months, but he felt so much closer than that. Thoughts of his last glimpse of her in the courtyard with the setting sun ran through his mind, quiet and peaceful, despite the real noise from the landing chopper fifty meters away.
The wind from the blades whipped through his hair as he ducked and ran to the helicopter. Appropriately, he was the last one on. Tony and Chase had gone earlier with the documents and evidence. This last flight held him and three other agents. One was Maria Lopez.
His duffle landed at her feet as he swung it onto the floor of the large transport. She said nothing as she pulled the heavy bag away from the door so he could climb in after it. In fact, she'd said nothing since she'd been to his room. He didn't need the extra weight her tension was causing and looked away.
Maria looked down at his bag at her feet. The words were on the tip of her tongue. The woman, Claudia…she said she's sorry. And Jack…Agent Bauer…I'm not going to report what I saw. But Jack Bauer looked away as soon as he boarded. When he did, Maria found she couldn't take her eyes off him, lost in his own thoughts, staring out the open door of the transport, the wind ruffling his hair, and the shadows from the cabin lights highlighting the contours of his face.
In the dark, she couldn't see the dark circles under his eyes that were billboards for how tired he was. His hands on his lap, he let his head fall back, looking so much younger when his eyes closed and the rest of the lines creasing his face eased away. Again she was struck by the difference between the face in front of her and the picture on his ID card. Both were handsome, but this face, even in repose, was thin and tough and held a world weariness not present in the early photo.
Maria wondered at the odd happenstances of the day that had put her in place to see too much of Jack's private hell in this place. Why not his friends, the people who knew him and might be able to help, why her? She wanted to give all she knew back.
He must have felt her watching and opened his eyes and looked right at her. There was no accusation or plea for clemency in his face, despite how vulnerable he appeared for one fleeting second. And to her great surprise, for another fleeting second, he smiled at her. The smile hardly, if at all, reached his mouth. It was his eyes. And they seemed to be absolving her for whatever she chose to do. At least that's how she chose to interpret the look. She smiled back, pleased that when he looked away again, he seemed just a tad more at peace.
The helicopter took off and Jack stared at the receding lights of the ranch until they were no longer visible, swallowed by the dark of the vast barren dessert. He thought about Maria Lopez's brief smile. Kindness, assurance, honesty. In that very short moment, she reminded Jack of what the last six months had not been and that what he was going back to was so much better. And he'd survived to do it. Maybe not as well as he would have liked and not without baggage, but he'd made it.
Whatever she did with what she knew was her decision. He didn't feel she held his fate in her hands. If anything, he'd slipped up, almost asking for her to make the decision for him. If anything, he regretted he'd burdened her with that. The only thing he wanted to know of Maria Lopez is what Claudia had said to her. But he wouldn't ask and she wasn't saying.
He retreated into himself, the finality of leaving really setting in. The time here was over. The raid had been a mistake, but was done was done. He sagged and let his eyes close again and his head fall back against the high seat back once more. The helicopter crossed over the Rio Grande into the United States. Jack fell asleep.