CTU: A Final Outcome

 CTU: A Final Outcome

“Hello Jack.” I whispered from behind my friend. He turned to face me instantly.

“What are you doing here and how did you get in?” He demanded at once.

I put my hands away from my torso and tried to keep my voice neutral. “Jack, I'm here to tell you that I'll be here for you as I've tried to be for the last seven years. Also, with your permission, I'll be a bit more directly involved than I was that day at the power plant.”

“What exactly does that mean?” He asked, apparently sincerely curious.

“It means I could quote to you verbatim the first conversation-slash-confrontation you had with then senator Palmer. But that would prove how deeply I'm entrenched in this, not what my intentions are while I'm here. If I'm right it was about 18 months later you were supposed to fly a bomb over the desert, George Mason took your place at the last second. He told you making things right with your daughter and continuing to lead by example were a much better indication of bravery than going out in a blaze of glory. And I don't like my hair in my eyes, can I put it in a pony-tail?”

Jack nodded and I did so. I rested my hands at my sides but I didn't walk more than a step forward. I noticed a look in Jack's eyes I hadn't seen there before. “What's the matter?” I asked him.

“For a moment there you looked like my daughter.” Was the only answer I got.

“Light blonde hair, abrupt mannerisms, I guess I'm about the same age. I swear to you this is not subterfuge. I honestly thought we'd met at least once before, in one of the really bad days you've had over the past 7 years. Or however long it's been since you met President Palmer.”

Jack sat down on the corner of his mattress.“Okay so you've basically told me the story of my life, or I bet you would if I sat here to listen to it. But that doesn't explain what you're doing here now.”

“If I'm right, you're about to have another of those really bad days. I'm not sure if it's more for you or Bill Buchannen, but I want to be on hand when and if the only two sane people I know in this business are unreachable...or unable to have their say.”

“How do you know Bill?” He asked me, cocking an eyebrow.

“I made Ryan Chappelle a promise but he died before I could keep it. It was only a few weeks after you supposedly died that I kept it...to Bill Buchannen.” I looked at my watch. “Forgive me but I have got to get out of here. Even so I really would like your permission to come back. I want to be at CTU if I have to be, and right now you are the only person who has the right to tell me yes or no.”

“Just because we've met before?” Jack stated, bewildered.

“Because you have this crazy tendency to see what really is happening a few seconds before everyone else and I have observed people would usually have been a lot faster to respond correctly, if they'd listened to you in the first place.”

Jack swallowed hard. “Alright.” He answered. “Assuming I do end up at CTU today, you can be there.”

“Thank you, most sincerely.” I told him, bowing my head.

I vanished from his sight a few moments later.

It was about four hours later. For a very brief period of time Jack Bauer had been suspected a traitor. I knew that it was only a temporary reprieve for him. Jack had been called back to CTU from a hostage situation at the airport and apparently I'd beaten him getting back to the office. It was only after milling around for about 20 minutes that I realized how badly I'd jumped the gun. I'd seen enough to have misgivings about the new commander of CTU, and I knew well enough he would take the reins from Bill Buchannen. I just wanted to be as much of a dispassionate, neutral witness to what would happen as I was capable of being. Besides, I have enough people questioning my judgment, I don't want them to question my memory or accuracy either.

“How long have you been here?” I heard someone whisper to me. I turned to see Bill Buchannen staring hard at me. He wasn't much older than I remembered him, only a few more white or silvery hairs and physically a little thicker skin.

“Sir, no one here has any reason to be concerned about me. I just want...I want to see if I'm right and to have a chance to finish what I start. Normally I'd volunteer to snap my own neck and go out of commission for a while, to avoid getting too involved or in everybody's way. But please, I need to see this through.”

My friend simply nodded and walked away. The next time I saw Bill or Jack it was from a mild distance. I don't really know how much later it was. Time gets away from me after a while. I knew I should have phased out and come back later. That's what I usually did. But I also knew that I didn't want to forget what I'd already told them today, which I would have by the time I sauntered my way back here. For once a day would be a day and an hour would be an hour. I was certain this would be my final involvement in CTU, the Counter-Terrorist-Unit, and I wanted it to be genuine.

“Bill can I ask you something?” Jack asked as he motioned his friend closer to the gray wall.

“Of course Jack, what's up?” I could tell they were both trying to whisper. It wasn't working.

“Do you know any one in their late 20's, somewhat dark blonde hair who acts like they don't even have the answers to their own questions?”

“Uh, yeah actually. She's been hanging around here since the hostage situation at the airport was resolved. And honestly, I assumed you knew her better than I did.”

“For all I know, I do. I mean she feels familiar to me, but I can't place the face. I need to verify that she knows as much as she thinks she does.”

“Jack, she volunteered to be interogated under my direct, exclusive supervision to fulfill a promise to my predecessor. I'm not going to question her honesty or her motives. I've seen the glazed over look in her eyes and sound in her voice while she's been here today. I don't know how badly I messed with her health, but for as long as she's willing to help, I say let her.”

“You won't get any argument from me.” Jack stated easily. He walked off alone.

Next thing I knew I was standing in front of Lynn McGill in holding. He was a pretty thick-framed man and a little taller than I was If it wasn't for the dark red hair, made even darker by sweat, I could have called him steel-faced. I wondered for a moment if he knew I was starring at him.

“What's so interesting?” He stated to me.

“I'm just thinking of a line from an old Robin-Hood moive.” I answered simply. “King Richard said he could have forgiven his brother and I quote 'if your treachary were only against me, not against my subjects', end quote. Why you assumed you knew more about how to get anything done than people who have been on the front lines as it were for so dang long, is beyond me. Why you thought you were the only one who could lead them properly and stop the bleeding...again beyond me. Actually both of those things are basically what a friend of mine would have called 'the logic of history'. Since when did any desk jockey accurately gauge a field situation. It isn't that you dismissed out of hand something they found and turned out to be reliable. That happens all the time. The delusion that being in a position of power means you have the courage and the perspective for that position, is a misconception that I have some familiarity with. I mean I've been around it enough times. Believe me the points will be reversed, hopefully both of them.”

“I was thinking this was merely stream of consciousness abuse, now I'm thinking you actually have a point to make.” Lynn stated pointedly, and he took a breath. “But I'm not sure what.”

“You have a decision to make about your own legacy. Or you will fairly shortly, if I'm right. I think you'll be able to do more good from here than you, personally would have done from Bill's office. If I'm right and you are faced with that choice, make the right one; be remembered for IT, not this other stuff.”

As I left holding I noticed another visitor. This one at least half a decade older than the last time I'd seen her. The years of both experience and regret were evident in her face. I assumed correctly it was Kim Bauer. Even if I hadn't seen her up close almost seven years ago, I saw in an instant why Jack had told me I looked like his daughter. Other than her hair was a much lighter blonde than mine, and much better kept, I didn't see as many physical distinctions as I'd assumed would be there.

“Why are you starring at me like that?” She asked me as she walked down the hall, toward the stairs to the conference room, and thus a little closer toward me. I found my answer in a moment.

“I'm not sure I can count on my memories, but they tell me I can trust you. And that has been a rare thing around here today, trust I mean.”

“You're no more an agent than I am.” She told me curtly.

“You were here though weren't you, as an agent? Salazar's and Saunders?”

“What of it?” She asked me in an even more clipped tone.

“I remember four very bad days that happened in this place.” I told her calmly. “But ever since what happened after the last one..I just needed to know that I could trust my memories if nothing else. I'm never conquered by them, but sometimes I... You have places to be.”

By now of course most people had noticed me flitting about. Only Chloe and Audrey had even asked about me. Audrey asked Bill, Chole asked me directly. Fortunately enough all hell broke loose right about then. The nerve gas that was the true cause of all the distress and distrust of the day had finally been released at the headquarters of the brave and the loyal. I made a mad dash to the conference room and pulled my head down, putting my hands over my neck as I had in a tornado warning. Everything went dark.

“Karen Hays.” I mentioned weakly as I walked through the door to Bill Buchannens' office. “I'm not going to make as much of a scene as I did last time I saw that face, or when...Lynn made this exact mistake.”

“And why not, exactly?” Miles Pressman asked me bluntly.

“For one, I follow the lead of the people I trust. Jack is in the field and won't learn of this nonsense for a while. Unlike earlier today Bill Buchannen seems to be following your lead fairly willingly. Far more to the point however, I trust you will have ample time to see far more clearly than you do right now. I mean to see this place, its people and the situation in this city far more clearly. And along with that, to see who you will need to trust or rely on for both a swift and accurate conclusion.”

“I wish I had your confidence.” Bill mentioned quietly.

“Sir, in one sense of the word, you do; that's my point. I have more confidence in you and Jack than in anyone who steps into this office and five minutes later assumes they know the ropes. That said...”

“What is it?” Bill Buchannen asked me in a voice more gentle than any I'd heard that day.

“I have what might be an extremely odd request. You and Jack are the only ones here who would listen to me, like who ever have done. And as I said, Jack's in the field. If you're leaving as well, even for a couple of hours, I'd like to come with you.”

“Why would you do that?” Bill and Karen asked me at once.

“I think I've explained why pretty thoroughly if anyone was listening. Besides, it'll be better filling in the blanks when I'm as lucid as I am.”

“On one condition.” My friend stated. I nodded. “Stop calling me 'sir'; my name is Bill.” I smiled as broadly as I could, and nodded deeply. “Then come on.” He motioned me down the stairs and out the doors. I was respectfully silent until we were outside the building. Once we'd gotten into his car and he was driving us to his home, I decided to offer an explanation.

“I'm used to flitting in and out of a place, only staying for a few minutes, even at CTU. I've been on the scene today since before President Palmer was shot. Which means snapping my neck to give myself some peace might be inevitable. Until that happens, if there is anything I can do to help, anything I can say to fill in the blanks, I'll do it. It'll be my last hurrah and my magnum opus all in one.”
“Why do you even do this?” Bill asked me in a somewhat weak voice.

“I think I should answer a far more specific question, which I think is closer to your intent. If I don't repeatedly go over a memory while it's fresh in my thoughts, it bleeds and drains into 'the past'. My personal history is for the most part not worth remembering. It's the details away from home, like the days I remember here in LA, that keep me going. I'm not saying I can keep them separate and saved. Even most details of what I told Jack this morning are already fading. But I know I was there. I'm pretty sure Jack and I had met before, years ago but that doesn't matter. I am being given a chance to be a stronger part of this than I ever could have before.” All the sudden a light bulb lit in my mind. I turned and all but growled. “For God's sake I volunteered that night. I was keeping a promise. I'm not holding it over you, why should you hold it over yourself?!”

“I can't help thinking I did more damage to your mind or your brain than to your body.”

“Whatever my doctors think is wrong, my mind split into pieces long ago. Because of that the drugs had similar but not typical effects on me; my brain chemistry is already abnormal. That expereince 18 months ago solidified my adventures as fact and opened my mind to how mentally ill I already was. I'm not dying any faster now than before. If I ever do go non-compos mentos, it'll be because I've been willing myself to live beyond my time, until the time came I was willing to die. Again, since way longer ago. Let yourself breathe.”

I decided I'd let the rest of the day play out as it had before. I remember one final conversation I'd had at CTU, when Miles Pressman betrayed his direct superior to throw in with the president. My message to him was simple. “That just means you'll fall right along with him.” I can remember even Jack was confused at my stubborn belief that they could still pull this off. I know for a fact that they did. Not remembering anything else about that conversation, which would happen a few hours later and was a trip I took months ago, I decided to let things remain as they had been. I didn't want to assume I knew any better now than I did back then. But I was wrong, at least about one thing. That wasn't my final foray into the business of Jack Bauer and CTU. The next time I saw Jack's face was over 18 months later for them. The only thing is that adventure, from my perspective, began much earlier...and not in the United States.