“No, honey. Just bring yourself home in one piece.
Okay? Stay safe.”
“I’ll try,” said Jack. “Things here… they’re a little…
disorganized. But I won’t forget Kim’s poster.”
“Great,” said Teri. “I have to get going, but how’s New York otherwise? Did you go to any nice restaurants yet?”
“Actually,” said Jack, “I just came from one.”
When he finished rerouting the security links, Tony Almeida closed the panel and rebooted the system. While he waited through the startup procedures, Tony popped the top buttons of his black cotton shirt to cool off. Then he began the laborious process of enabling all the new network connections he’d just established, one link at a time.
Alarms. Motion sensors. Elevator overrides; all had to be restarted. While he worked, Tony unconsciously rubbed the ragged scar across his chest.
The “program enabled” icon appeared, and soon Tony had real-time images on all twelve security monitors. He observed the parking garage, the lobby, the elevator shaft, the roof, the fire escape through an array of cameras.
“Mr. Almeida?”
Rachel Delgado was there, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in each hand. Tony’s shirt still gaped, and the woman’s eyes widened when she saw Tony’s scar.
“My god,” she cried. “Did that just happen?”
Tony flushed, closed his shirt. “No,” he muttered, buttoning quickly. “It, uh… happened a couple months ago.
Down in Mexico.”
Rachel looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You were working behind the console, and it looked like an electrical burn, so I thought…”
“It is an electrical burn,” Tony replied.
Rachel suddenly remembered the containers in her hand. “I brought you some coffee,” she said. “I didn’t know if you liked it black or with cream, so I brought one of each.”
“Thanks,” Tony said, accepting the black. “Sit down.
Join me.”
“Okay,” Rachel said, glancing at the workstation. “Wow, you have everything running again.”
“Almost everything.”
“Is that Con Ed guy on the roof helping you?” Rachel asked.
Tony’s eyes were on the monitor. He’d seen the man in a blue utility worker’s uniform, too, just before the guy had moved out of camera range.
Tony punched up the digital control panel for the roof camera. Using his mouse to move the lens from side to side, Tony scanned the black tarred roof. Soon he spotted the man again — he was wearing a Con Edison uniform.
“He looks busy,” Rachel observed.
The man’s back was turned. He was crouched at the base of one of CTU’s microwave towers, tinkering with something impossible to see.
Tony frowned. He’d established the network connection to the motion detectors on the roof two minutes ago. Why hadn’t those detectors gone off, sounded an alarm that someone was on the roof? He checked the circuit and got a
“network connection lost” message.
Adrenaline pumping, Tony checked the alarm system and received the same warning. Someone had sabotaged the system as fast as he’d gotten it running.
“What’s the matter?” Rachel asked. “You look upset.”
Tony jerked his head at the monitor. “The Con Edison guy on the roof. He’s an intruder.”
Rachel rose abruptly, spilling her coffee on the concrete floor. “Oh my god. What do we do?”
Tony reached for the phone.
Jack Bauer had just returned with the laptop under his arm. He went directly to Brice Holman’s office, where Morris was still trying to crack the security on the Director’s computer.
“Almost there, Jack-o,” he promised.
Jack’s cell warbled. He dropped the laptop on the desk, reached for the phone in his pocket.
“Bauer here.”
“It’s Tony. We’ve got an intruder on the roof.”
Jack’s gut turned to ice. “You’re sure?”
“He’s dressed like a utility worker,” Tony replied. “But he didn’t get up there by accident. I think he climbed up the maintenance hatch, deactivating the security systems as he went along. I’m down here establishing new links; he’s up there cutting them.”
“Do you know his precise location right now?”
“He’s at the base of the microwave tower on the southwest corner of the roof. I can see him because I still have visuals.”
“The intruder didn’t disable the cameras?”
“He couldn’t, Jack,” Tony explained. “They’re digital Wi-Fi and operate independently, with their own power source. The cameras have no wires to cut, no power source to disconnect. He probably doesn’t have a clue he’s being watched.”
“Listen Tony,” Jack said. “Don’t mention the intruder to anyone, and don’t set off any alarms. I don’t want to spook this guy. I want him alive, for interrogation.”
“Roger, Jack.”
“Keep this line open, we’ll talk when I get to the roof.”
“Okay.”
Jack closed the phone.
“What intruder?” Morris asked.
“Never mind,” said Jack. “Give me your weapon.”
Morris slipped the Glock out of its holster. “Take it. I hate the damned things. I’m only packing heat because it’s regulation in the field.” Morris looked around the office.
“If you want to call this the field.”
“Stay here and keep doing what you’re doing,” Jack said, checking the weapon. “And when you’re done with that computer, get started on the laptop.”
Jack slipped out of Director Holman’s office, Glock in hand.
“Oh, that’s fine,” Morris grumbled. “Guns flashing, intruders all over the place, and no one tells me a bloody thing…”
Jack moved quietly and quickly along the balcony of the Operations Center, careful to keep the Glock low. He found the door to the staircase, and used the universal code key Layla Abernathy had given him to enter the restricted area.
The stairwell was well lit, and stank of fresh paint and industrial-strength cleaning fluid. Jack took the steps two at a time, his heels echoing hollowly in the cavernous space. He led with the Glock, clutched in both hands.
Jack paused at each landing, wary of ambush. So far, however, the stairwell remained deserted.
Finally, he reached the door to the roof. Jack flattened himself against the wall and slowly turned the knob, pushing the door open a few inches. Warm air and bright sunlight flooded through the crack, filling the stairwell. From below, Jack could hear street sounds. With one hand, he drew his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Tony,” he whispered.
“I’m here.”
“Where is the intruder now?”
“He’s still at the microwave tower, but he’s not crouching anymore. I think he’s packing up to leave.”
“Roger,” Jack whispered. “Stand by.”
He put Tony on hold and used his CTU phone’s GPS
as a compass, determining that the southwest corner of the roof was through the door and to the right. Then Jack tucked the cell into his pocket and slipped through the door, stepping cautiously onto the roof. The rubber insula-tion felt spongy under his feet, but Jack was grateful the material muffled the sound of his footsteps.
He moved to the right, until he saw the steel microwave tower, its multiple dishes framed by the gleaming World Trade Center towers in the distance. He crept to a massive air-conditioning system, and ducked behind an aluminum vent.
From his position, Jack had a good view of the microwave tower, right down to its concrete base. But there was no sign of the intruder.