24 Declassified: Operation Hell Gate

15. THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 11 A.M. AND 12 P.M. EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME

Nina Myers jerked, snapped back to reality by the insistent three-tone ring. She looked away from the computer monitor, punched the button for the speakerphone. “What is it Jamey?”

“I have Jack on the line.”

Nina snatched the receiver. “Jack. My god. It’s been close to six hours since. ” She took a breath. “After the reports coming out of Brooklyn, Ryan was ready to write you off. Did you make contact with Taj Ali Kahlil?”

“Only his brother, Khan. He’s dead now. So is everyone else, thanks to that FBI raid. I’ve hit a wall.”

Jack was reaching for a lifeline and Nina tossed him one. There was a tiny pause in which he could almost feel Nina’s smile over the phone. They had worked so closely and so intensely, Jack sometimes felt he knew what Nina was thinking.

“Listen, Jack. We’re not out of leads yet. Jamey’s dug up some new intelligence; so have Tony and Captain Schneider.”

“Who?”

“Never mind, just listen.” Nina told Jack everything they’d learned about Felix Tanner, his connection to Prolix Security, and that company’s connection to the Lynch brothers through their Green Dragon store in Queens. Then she briefed him about Wexler Storage and the company’s connection to both Prolix Security and the Lynch brothers’ computer store.

“Have you found out anything more about Special Agent Frank Hensley?”

“Sorry, Jack. Only what’s public knowledge — and by public I mean in the newspapers. The FBI has effectively cut us off from their database. Some of the other agencies are starting to get nervous, too. The walls are getting higher.”

“Because of Hensley’s accusations about me?”

Nina said nothing. They both knew the answer.

“Listen, Nina…I have a problem. It’s Caitlin, she’s done her part but she’s a civilian. I can’t drag her all over town, put her in jeopardy again. And I can’t leave her on her own. If the Lynch brothers find her she’s dead.”

“I’ve already discussed this issue with Ryan. He’s dispatched a CTU agent named Carlos Ferrer out of the D.C. office. Special Agent Ferrer is scheduled to arrive on the Amtrak Acela in less than an hour. He’ll contact you then. Agent Ferrer will take custody of Caitlin, escort her to a safe house.”

“Good work, Nina. I’m going to Wexler Storage next.”

“Why there, Jack?”

“I’m figuring that the missile launchers for the New York attack have to be stored somewhere — a central location where the leader of the terrorist cell can keep tabs on them, and a place from which the weapons could easily be dispatched. Wexler Storage fits the bill. It’s in the heart of Manhattan, within driving distance of three major airports.”

“It’s your call, Jack.”

“It’s going to take me some time to get to Houston Street. The car’s been compromised so I’m taking the subway. I’ll be out of touch for a while.”

“What about the package?”

“Caitlin is coming with me. Keep gathering data on Felix Tanner, and find out what you can about Frank Hensley.”

Dennis Spain had just ended a conversation with WestWing Airlines CEO Gilbert Hemmer when his intercom buzzed.

“I said I was not to be disturbed,” Spain snapped at the woman. “You know the Senator’s teleconference is this afternoon. I have more calls to make.”

“It’s Mr. Reichel, sir. You said I was supposed to notify you immediately whenever Mr. Reichel calls.”

“Put him on.”

A moment later, Spain addressed the Assistant Undersecretary of Budgetary Affairs for the United States Government Travel Office. “Hey, Ted. What’s up?”

“Listen, Dennis. You asked me to tell you when travel vouchers are issued to anyone at CTU. We got one this morning. For an Agent Carlos Ferrer, D.C. to New York City.”

“I’ll need Agent Ferrer’s itinerary,” Spain said, examining his fingernails.

“The usual fee?”

“You bet.”

“I’ll fax that information right over to you.”

“Wait. I have another number I want you to use.” Spain read it off.

“212? That’s a New York City area code.”

“That’s right. Fax the information ASAP.”

“I’ll do it now.”

Dennis Spain ended the call, buzzed his secretary. “Get me Felix Tanner at Prolix Security’s Manhattan office.”

A shaky Milo Pressman finished recounting the disaster at Green Dragon Computers to the members of Crisis Management Team Alpha. Jamey Farrell was especially affected. She had known Nell Henkel quite well. Sometimes they went clubbing together.

Ryan Chappelle listened with the others, then spoke. “First let me say what happened was a tragedy, but no one in this room should blame themselves. My assistant will compose letters of condolences to the families of Michael Chen and Danielle Henkel. Needless to say, their loss has further strained our manpower resources. Mr. Pressman and Ms. Farrell will have to take on additional responsibilities—”

“What about the plan, Mr. Chappelle?”

All eyes turned to Captain Schneider, still clad in the civilian clothes she wore when she single-handedly assaulted Green Dragon, her blond hair loose and falling around her shoulders.

“I really don’t think this is the time—”

“I think it is,” Captain Schneider replied. “You want to find out more about FBI Agent Frank Hens-ley, right? This might be the only way to gain access to such information. The California Senator’s running feud with the Bureau is something we can exploit.”

“What you’re suggesting is nothing less than a raid on another government agency.”

Jessica Schneider shrugged. “A potentially corrupt agency, Mr. Chappelle. At the very least an agency that has been compromised by a traitor or double agent.”

“You can’t be serious,” Nina Myers protested. “CTU has already been marginalized by the other agencies. If word of this ever gets out—”

Chappelle waved Nina’s concerns aside. “What do you think, Tony?”

Agent Almeida’s eyes shifted from Nina to Jessica. “In this case I’d have to go with Captain Schneider. We need to know if Frank Hensley is the mastermind behind this operation, or if he’s another cog in a bigger wheel. We need to know why the FBI chose today to raid Kahlil’s market. And we need to know what the FBI knows — about Felix Tanner, Green Dragon, Wexler Storage. If they’re going to withhold that intelligence from us because of some bogus accusations against Jack Bauer, then we should go in and grab it ourselves.”

“Is there any other way to gain access to this information?” Ryan asked. “Any suggestions, Jamey? Nina?”

“Withholding information is nothing new,” Nina replied. “The wall this Administration and the Attorney General’s office erected between the intelligence agencies is too high for CTU to climb. And with Jack Bauer under suspicion, nobody is willing to cut us any slack.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Ryan said. “Therefore I’m going to authorize this mission. When can you go?”

Tony rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Some software protocols will need to be established—”

“We can go right now,” said Jessica. “Who’s the FBI Bureau Chief in Los Angeles?”

“His name is Jeffrey Dodge. I met him at an interagency conference three months ago. Middle-aged, recently divorced.”

Jessica nodded. “Good, I can exploit that.”

The meeting broke up minutes later. Tony fell into step with the Captain. “You’re right. We do need the information the FBI is keeping from us. But you poured it on a little thick back there. This isn’t the Corps. We can’t just charge into every situation and hope for the best. Stop thinking like a Marine all the time.”

Jessica’s eyes flashed cold. “Maybe you should start thinking like a Marine again, Agent Almeida. You might get better results.”

Liam hung up the receiver, heard the quarter rattle in the return slot. He pocketed the coin and headed back to the counter. Following Shamus’s instructions, he’d gone directly to the Lynch brothers’ store on Queens Boulevard, only to find the place mysteriously closed.

He hung around for a while, then decided to cross ten lanes of Queens Boulevard to a local diner. The place was jammed with a lunchtime crowd, so he grabbed a seat at the booth and ordered a burger and chips. He left his jacket on the seat and took the attaché case to the pay phone. The steel case was starting to feel like a ball and chain.

First he dialed the number for the Lynch brothers’ store, got the electronic message giving business hours and directions. Next he dialed The Last Celt, looking for his sister. Strangely, no one answered the phone there, either. But Donnie Murphy should have been there; he was as punctual as the sun when it came to running the pub, and he was always there before nine o’clock to accept deliveries and such.

Liam hung up the phone and carried the case back to the counter. His food was waiting for him, but he’d lost his appetite. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that trouble was heading his way.