Tuesday

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Tuesday morning had passed, and Audrey still hadn't heard from Jack. The brief message he had sent in the morning – just a good morning – was nowhere near enough to calm the growing emptiness inside her. Two days ago, she'd heard his voice for the last time. Every meeting felt endless, her mind constantly drifting to her phone, hoping for something from him.

By the time her final conference ended and the office emptied, Audrey could barely contain her frustration. Alone at last, she checked her secure phone again. Nothing. The silence gnawed at her, making her feel disconnected, even abandoned.

She stared at her computer. She shouldn't do this—she knew that. But the lack of communication from Jack was driving her crazy. With a sigh, Audrey accessed his classified file from the DoD server, her fingers hesitating over the "09/1988 – Clearance Level 8 required" section. She entered her password, guilt flickering in her chest.

The screen loaded, and in an instant, she was staring at an overwhelming sea of documents—a flood of military jargon, schematics, and official reports.

The first file she opened was filled with technical details: drawings of some prototypes for devices she couldn't even name, electrical wiring diagrams, and flight test protocols. It looked like the blueprints for a classified air force project, complete with signatures from high-ranking officers, colonels, and even generals. Names that carried weight in the DoD. Audrey scrolled further, her eyes scanning the pages with growing confusion.

This didn't fit.

Jack had been a young second lieutenant back then, fresh in garrison duty at Fort Devens. He'd never seen combat until then, never even participated in anything remotely like this. These documents described a high-level mission involving top military officials, complex aviation plans, and operations far beyond what someone at Jack's rank would have been involved in.

The more she scrolled, the more it became clear that these files actually had nothing to do with him. Audrey skimmed over testimonies from colonels, detailing flight plans and development protocols. There was no mention of Jack anywhere.

She paused, shaking her head. What could a 22-year-old second lieutenant, stationed on garrison duty, have to do with all of this? It didn't add up.

Curiosity drove her to search for his name. 'Bauer.' The search showed her: not much. His name appeared only on three of the hundreds of pages. She jumped there, landing on a report written by a colonel from Fort Devens on a support mission.

It was clear Jack had been a minor player in this operation, caught up in something far bigger than he likely understood at the time. He had just been there, doing what he was told. A small piece in a much larger machine.

She felt a pang of guilt. Should she really read these three pages? This was part of his life he hadn't shared with her – so far. She felt like she had crossed a line, but she couldn't go back. What would he say if he found out?

Audrey glanced at the three pages, feeling a growing sense of unease. But she also couldn't look away anymore.


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CONFIDENTIAL REPORT - United States Department of Defense
Subject: Support / Rescue Mission, Slide Mountain – 09 September 1988
Report by: Col. Richard C. Halverson, Commanding Officer, Fort Devens
Date: 12 September 1988

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1. Mission Objective:

To provide armed support and logistical assistance to a special forces team following the crash of two military aircraft, in the Slide Mountain Area. The mission was initiated to secure the crash site and assist in recovery, while maintaining radio silence.

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2. Situation:

At 0000 hours on 09 September 1988, the command at Fort Devens received a request for immediate support from a special forces team deployed in Slide Mountain Wilderness. The request was for three vehicles, including a crane-equipped truck, and 16 armed personnel. The location was given as the coordinates where the emergency locator transmitter (ELT) of one of the aircraft had been detected.

Two squads were dispatched under the command of Capt. Andrew McNally.

Communication with the special forces team was to be conducted via scrambled and encoded radio only. Strict radio silence was requested to protect mission security.

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3. Participants:

Capt. Andrew McNally (Mission Commander)

2nd Lt. Thomas Reilly (Squad Leader)

2nd Lt. Jack Bauer (Squad Leader)

16 enlisted men from Fort Devens (see Appendix A)

External participants:

Special Forces team (identities withheld)

US Navy aviators (identities party withheld)

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4. Execution:

The convoy departed Fort Devens at 0200 hours, consisting of three trucks (two personnel transport vehicles and one crane-equipped vehicle). They proceeded to the location identified by the ELT in Slide Mountain Wilderness, a six-hour drive away. At approximately 0830 hours, upon nearing the designated site, an explosive device was triggered near the lead vehicle.

The first truck was destroyed, and the second truck was disabled by the explosion. The blast resulted in the immediate deaths of Capt. McNally, 2nd Lt. Reilly, and eight enlisted men. The surviving personnel came under small-arms fire from an unidentified hostile force.

Due to the explosion, communications equipment linking the convoy to the special forces team was lost. 2nd Lt. Bauer attempted to re-establish contact with Fort Devens through regular radio channels, but communication was limited and mission command was instructed not to share classified details. The mission's classified nature prevented Fort Devens from providing further information or support regarding the special forces team's objectives.

2nd Lt. Bauer reorganized the remaining personnel into defensive positions at the site of the attack, as per orders of the Special Forces command. At 1000 hours, Maj. Robert Hendricks ordered the squad to proceed to the location of the ELT. This command was given due to a miscommunication between Maj. Hendricks and the Special Forces command.

At 1230 hours, 2nd Lt. Bauer lead the remaining squad closer to the location of the ELT. Upon arrival, they encountered one deceased member of the special forces team and engaged with two unidentified hostiles, eliminating both targets.

A further search of the area led to the capture of an enemy combatant, who spoke English with a strong accent, possibly of Eastern European origin. Interrogation did not yield any useful intelligence.

During the continued search of the ELT location, 2nd Lt. Bauer's squad located a wounded special forces operative (A – name withheld), approximately 200 meters from the crash site. (A) disclosed to 2nd Lt. Bauer that the downed aircraft were transporting nuclear weapons, including experimental triggers and targeting devices. (A) furthermore reported that enemy forces had been present in the area shortly after their arrival, indicating hostile interest in the crash site. Communications with his team had been lost, and his unit was believed to be split up in the area.

Following the discovery of this new information, 2nd Lt. Bauer and (A) reviewed the surrounding terrain and determined that the ELT signal had likely originated from an incorrect location for an emergency landing. They proceeded two miles west to a more suitable crash site location, leaving the remainder of Bauer's squad to guard the captured enemy and tend to the wounded personnel.

Upon reaching the alternate location at 1500 hours, 2nd Lt. Bauer and (A) discovered the wreckage of the two aircraft. Hostile forces had already reached the site. A surviving pilot, Lt. Mitchell, had at that point already retrieved the nuclear triggers from the wreckage and handed them to 2nd Lt. Bauer when hostiles opened fire on their position.

2nd Lt. Bauer withdrew from the area while (A) and Lt. Mitchell provided cover. (A) and Lt. Mitchell continued their defensive efforts but were later overrun by enemy forces. They managed to retreat into the forest. They were rescued by a second support team 12 hours later.

After sustaining injuries at Beaver Heights waterfall, 2nd Lt. Bauer drifted downstream the East Branch Wilmington River for approximately five miles over a 36-hour period. During this time, enemy forces followed and fired at him, though no severe hits were recorded.

Bauer eventually encountered two local fishermen, Mr. Frank Sutton and Mr. David Lee, at the Pepacton Reservoir. They followed his instructions to maintain radio silence due to the sensitive nature of the mission. Harbor patrol was notified discreetly at 1800 hours on 10 September 1988.

A special forces extraction team was dispatched and successfully retrieved the nuclear triggers at 1900 hours.

Two further squads were sent on 10 September 1988 to recover the damaged trucks.

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5. Casualties and Wounded:

Killed in Action (KIA):

Capt. Andrew McNally

2nd Lt. Thomas Reilly

8 enlisted personnel (names listed in Appendix A)

2 Special Forces team members (refer to Special Forces report)

Wounded:

2nd Lt. Jack Bauer (fractured left thigh bone, gunshot wound left upper arm)

4 enlisted personnel (see Appendix B for details)

1 Special Forces team member (refer to Special Forces report)

1 US Navy aviator (refer to US Navy report)

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6. Recommendations:

Enhanced reconnaissance efforts should be considered for future recovery operations involving classified material to prevent enemy ambush.

Review of communication protocols is advised, especially where classified operations are involved, to ensure miscommunication is avoided in the field.

Further training should be implemented to handle situations where operational intelligence is withheld from support units.

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Signed:
Col. Richard C. Halverson
Commanding Officer, Fort Devens

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Audrey leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen. She had read the report, but it left her feeling oddly detached. Sure, Jack had been injured—a broken thigh bone, a gunshot wound—but somehow, it didn't seem like it was all that bad, not compared to what he had been through later – and she'd seen some of the scars, a month ago.

The report had detailed the events coldly and factually. It was just another military operation, another mission that went sideways, and Jack had done what he always did—taken responsibility and done his job.

She mused over the details. The report didn't even specify who had killed whom. There were mentions of hostiles eliminated, but no real specifics. Had Jack made his first kill during this mission? She wasn't sure, but it seemed likely. It didn't matter much in the larger context—this was likely just the start. The first kill was inevitable for someone in his position.

Still, she couldn't help but admire him for one thing: taking the triggers and making sure they didn't fall into the wrong hands. He wouldn't have had to do that. He could have retreated. Given them up. For a while she wondered why there had been that 'miscommunication' that had led to him approaching the ELT site in the first place. In the end it didn't matter. He had done what she guessed he always did—taking responsibility, always doing what needed to be done. He had carried out his orders, and in that moment, made the right decision. No, actually, he had done more than that.

But the report itself—she found it almost insulting how the 450 pages reduced him to barely more than a footnote. He had recovered the triggers - the most critical thing of the whole failed flight test mission, and yet his name was buried in a side note. If those triggers had fallen into enemy hands, the consequences would have been unimaginable. And yet here he was, just another name in a list.

She glanced at the section about him drifting in the river, evading the enemy for 36 hours. There wasn't much about it in the report. It was difficult to picture—Jack, unable to get out of the water, forced to float downstream with enemy soldiers nearby. That part almost felt surreal. That man, the one who had drifted downstream, was still young, only 22. This was just the beginning of a life that would be filled with violence and suffering. A part of her wondered if he'd ever had a chance to escape it. When she thought back to what he had told her already, it was probably just another chapter in a life that had been full of violence and pain, always. Maybe except for these few years with Teri, until 1988.

With a small sigh, she closed the mission file. The screen returned to Jack's personnel file, and her eyes fell on the line about his promotion to First Lieutenant, just two months after the mission. A small smile tugged at her lips. He deserved it, no doubt about that. Promotions came because of missions like this, missions where doing what was necessary took priority over everything else.

Just then, her phone buzzed on the desk. Audrey glanced at it, seeing a message from him: "They'll be out of the house at 7 p.m. (my time). Too late?"

She checked the time. Three hours to go. It felt like a lifetime, but at least now she had something to look forward to. The day had been dragging on, but she knew those three hours would pass quickly.

"Looking forward to it," she texted back, her eyes lingering on the screen for a moment before she finally closed Jack's file. She didn't want to read more of those cold, impersonal facts about him. That wasn't who he was—not to her, at least. The files might paint a picture of his military career, but there was more to Jack than these official records could ever show.

She stood up, gathering her things, her mind already turning to their upcoming conversation. Maybe tonight, he'd let her in a little more.

With that thought in mind, she left her office, the anticipation growing with every step.

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