Audrey took the phone with her, to the bedroom. It was eight o clock now, judging from what Jack had said before, he should be home.
As she sat down at the bed, she took a minute and thought about all this. Wasn't she insane, doing this? Calling him? Watching him compromise the mission like that? Watching him do that to himself?

She was glad that he was two thousand three hundred miles away and that this was a secure phone line. Nobody would ever know that she had known about this at all.

She had given him her word that she wouldn't call CTU or DoD.
Well if she hadn't, she guessed, then he would have done the exact same things, but he just wouldn't have told her.

Had his decision been wrong?
She didn't know.

Was his decision to repeat it wrong?
Definitely, in her mind.

Hesitatingly she took the phone and called him. She was nearly sure that he'd taken some more by now.

The phone rang for a while, until he answered.

Hallo?

The question if he had taken some more was superfluous. She could hear it in his voice, that he was somehow changed.

Aud..ey?

He sounded drunk. God, he didn't even get her name right.

She wanted to hang up. She didn't want to listen to this. Tomorrow she'd call Tony Almeida, and make him put an end to this all.

Audrey, are you there? He said again.

I am, she answered.

Why arn't ya sayin anythin?

Well, why wasn't she? Because it was disgusting, to talk to someone in his state? You took something again.

I did… He tiredly rolled to his back. The phone call had woken him up. As he raised his arm to look at his wrist watch, he saw that the needle still stuck in there.
Hold on a second, he told her and put the phone aside to pull it out.
It was five thirty in the evening.

He grabbed the phone again, asking her Audrey?

Yes?

Good news. It already works.

What works?

The same dose knocked me out for over two hours, yesterday night. Now it was only forty five minutes ago. He was tired. His head was feeling dizzy. He didn't really want to move, but the fact that he was able to talk to her after only forty five minutes gave him an euphoric feeling. Wait… really, was really that the cause?

If I had called you yesterday, you would have probably also waken up after 45 minutes, she answered.

No, he snorted with laughter, never. I barely came to life again some point after midnight. He couldn't really remember that much. But it had been the intoxication of his life.

3 times 6?, she asked. It was the only over-the-phone drug test that she could think of.

18, he laughed. Too easy.

7 times 8?

46

She had to laugh. No.

What, no? He heard her laugh. Maybe it was time to re-think the answer. 48?

She laughed even harder. You're completely wasted!

No, I'm not. I just hate the seven times table. Hated it my entire life.

You're not honestly telling me that you were never able to solve 7 times 8 without a calculator?

56, he finally said. Now he got it. I always needed a bit longer when it was seven times something.

King of weasel words, she laughed. She had already wanted to hang up, but somehow, that longing had ceased. It was a different man, who she was talking to, but actually he wasn't that bad, she had to admit. You're still high as fuck.

I'm not. Give me one more chance. One without sevens.

Okay, she lay in bed smiling. Thank god he wasn't there. What would she do if he lay next to her? In that state? 5 to the power of 3.

She counted the seconds.

125

4 seconds. Actually, that wasn't even that bad. Approved. 16 to square. She hadn't even had time to start counting the seconds, as he already gave her an answer.

256

She jumped up from the bed, angry. You're fooling me, mister!, she shouted at him, You grabbed a calculator!

No, I didn't. I'm still lying in bed… too tired to move, I was even too bushed to switch the lights on.

I don't believe you, she hissed. She was in rage, even though it was only a meaningless banter. You can't solve 16 square in under two seconds when you're not able to do 7 times 8.

I am, he closed his eyes. God, he loved to hear her voice, even when she was upset. He owed her an explanation. 16 square is the same like two to the power of four, which is 16, to the power of 2. Multiply the exponents and it says 2 to the power of 8.

And why the hell should 2 to the power of 8 be easier to solve than 16 square?

Because base 2 is binary. 2 to the power of 8 is the basic value of the 256bit encryption. Everyone who has had to do something with encryptions knows what 2 to the power of 8 is.

Her anger had settled down. He wasn't sober, she could still hear that in his voice. But his explanation was credible. She went downstairs, into her office.

Jack heard that she was doing something. He couldn't tell what.
After she didn't say anything for a while, he got curious, are you still there?

Yeah.

What are you doing?

She hated to admit it.
She was sitting at her home office table, having grabbed a calculator, typing 2^8 and 16^2. He was right. Both were the same, 256. Just checking something, she murmured.

Finally, he realized what she was doing.

She heard him burst into laughter.

What?!, she asked, but he wouldn't stop. What!

He was sure that at the point when she'd told him to solve 16 square, she had neither known the answer herself, nor had she ever thought he'd be able to do it.

Now who's intoxicated, huh?, he finally asked.

Shut up, she hissed, switching the light in her office off, walking back up to her bedroom. So you're not. You successfully proved that.

Good. He lay back. He felt good. No, he felt great. Were it the drugs? Or was it talking to her? He didn't know.
He lay there, eyes closed, and all he wanted to do was to continue this. He wanted to tell her that he loved talking to her. That he loved to hear her voice.

But in the end, he didn't.
He couldn't tell her.
She was DoD. She was involved in the approval of this mission. She was married. He was breaking all his ties to go undercover. She was in so many ways off-limits that he actually shouldn't talk to her at all.

But in the end, he couldn't just hang up either.

How much did you take? He heard her ask him.

He didn't even know the number by heart. Hold on, he said, and rolled over to switch on the lights. He found the syringe lying somewhere on the bed, next to him.
zero point 5… he started to read, milliliters.

As if I knew how much that was Audrey said. She wasn't used to the metric system.

He was neither, therefore he hadn't remembered the number. Imagine a small syringe. It says three as a maximum. I was a zero point five.

And yet it knocked you out for 45 minutes?

Yes. He put the syringe away and looked at the spot on his arm. A small bruise had formed around the spot where he'd stung into the vein. He needed to be more careful. He couldn't run around, looking like this. Maybe I could have been up earlier… if you had called earlier.

Maybe.
Audrey sat back down on her bed. It was so strange to have such a conversation.

I have to increase by tomorrow.

How much?

Zero point 75, he said. He counted the days until he'd go undercover. No, he had to do more. No, one.

Where's the limit for an overdose?

Five or six, I guess. Later, maybe more.

She wondered how unemotionally and factually he talked about this. She would have been wrong to call Tony Almeida to call the mission off. Jack had this under control. He was not shooting up to feel better. He was technically increasing the dose and watching the time that it'd take him to get functional again.
Shall I call you again, tomorrow?, she silently asked him.

He couldn't help but smile, as he heard her words. Yes… would be great, he silently spoke.

Same time?

Okay.

Okay.