office.
“I’ll need the personnel files from YankeeLife downloaded to my PDA and then I’m on my way,” said Jack.
“Not so fast, Agent Bauer.” It was Ryan Chappelle speaking. Jack was surprised Nina had not warned him the Administrative Director was on the line. “We need you to take down the rest of the New York cell, Jack. That’s your first priority. You hurt them with the attack on the storage building, but they still have the resources to carry out the JFK attack. The FBI and local authorities are not cooperating with us, so it’s up to you.”
“Listen, I can’t do it, Ryan, but I think I know someone who can.”
Jack explained his plan. Ryan was — no surprise— highly skeptical.
“Trust me, Ryan,” said Jack. “This will work. Finding Tanner is more important than anything else right now.”
“Listen, Jack,” said Nina. “There’s more to deal with than Tanner. Tony Almeida and Captain Schneider interrogated Hensley’s ex-wife. Turns out Frank Hensley had an extramarital affair two years ago. The woman in question was Fiona Brice, an FBI stenographer working in the New York office—”
“Can we find her?”
“We found her, Jack. Fiona Brice is currently employed by Prolix Security. She’s Felix Tanner’s personal secretary.”
Taj was gone but the Lynch brothers would see him soon, at the bridge. Griff glanced at his watch.
“The shipment arrives in ninety minutes. That gives us an hour and a half to clean up the mess before we can cut and run.”
“Do you think Liam still has the case?” Shamus asked.
“I think we should determine that right now. If he does have the attache case, this will solve our problem.”
Griffin drew a black box remote control box from his jacket. On its featureless surface the device had one gray button and a tiny liquid crystal display. With his thumb, Griff pressed the button.
Jack and Caitlin were making their way to a subway entrance when Jack’s cell chirped again.
“This is Special Agent Carlos Ferrer, D.C. Division,” said the stranger’s voice. “Ryan Chappelle sent me to rendezvous with you and pick up an Irish national named Caitlin O’Connor. Is the woman with you now?”
“She’s close,” said Jack.
“Good. When can we link up?”
“I have to take care of something before I can meet you,” Jack replied. “After I’m done, I will deliver Caitlin to you in person. Let’s establish a suitable
place and time to meet.”
They did, and the call ended.
“So now what?” Caitlin demanded. “Are you going to dump me on somebody else?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jack replied.
“I’m a big girl, Jack Bauer. I can take care of myself.”
Jack stared intensely at Caitlin. Uncomfortable, she looked away. “What’s the matter?”
“Is your last name O’Connor?”
Caitlin blinked. “Yes. What about it?”
Jack frowned. “How did Agent Ferrer know your last name, when I didn’t?”
19. THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 3 P.M. AND 4 P.M. EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
Doris Soo Min’s neck itched. She hated it when someone stood behind her. Now three people hovered there — Milo and Jamey and that creepy Ryan Chappelle.
The intercom buzzed. “That’s the call,” said Jamey. Doris hit the button. “Hello,” she said tremulously. “Good afternoon. My name is Georgi Timko. Our mutual friend Jack Bauer tells me you have information I require to play my role in today’s drama.” “Ohmygodohmygod…Is that a Russian accent?” “Ukrainian,” Timko replied, “but I speak Russian like a Muscovite, thanks to a wonderful KGB education.”
Doris tapped her keyboard. “I’m about to send you the data we have on the JFK strike. Are you ready to receive?”
“Ready…Yes, the data is here. Now let us discuss this mission CTU wants me to perform.”
Doris did. Excitedly. In Russian.
Griffin and Shamus watched the tiny screen, currently displaying a map of Queens. On a street not too far from the store, a blip flashed intermittently.
Griff frowned. “Someone has the attache case, that’s for certain.”
“It’s close,” said Shamus. “Less than a mile away and moving. Maybe Liam’s bringing it back to us like I told him to.”
“No, it’s moving in the opposite direction, toward Queens Center Mall.”
Griffin handed the tracer to Shamus. “Take the Mercedes and finish this. I’ll use the van to pick up the package at the airport and deliver it to Taj.”
Shamus slipped a 9mm into his jacket. Griff faced him. “This is it, brother. You’ll never see this place again. By midnight we’re on a plane to the Cayman Islands. One more job and we leave America behind forever.”
Shamus nodded, face grim. Griffin squeezed his arm. “Take care of the boy. We’ll meet at the bridge tonight.”
Nina Myers burst into Ryan Chappelle’s office without knocking.
“I just heard from the National Transportation Safety Board.”
Ryan looked up from his computer screen. “What did they say?”
“There is not sufficient evidence to ground air traffic around these crucial airport hubs. Quote, unquote.”
“Christ. How much evidence do they need?”
“More than we gave them, apparently. The head administrator cited the economic damage such a grounding could cause; the public’s reaction might send ripples through the travel and air shipping industries.”
Ryan scowled. “They’re not seeing the bigger picture. What kind of public relations disaster will they be facing if the terrorists succeed in just one of today’s attacks!”
Nina shrugged. The point was moot. The NTSB had made their decision. “What are you going to do?”
“What choice is there? I have to go with the tactical solution.”
“That’s your call, Ryan. The other administrators will back you up, but this operation is under your command.”
Nina knew that Ryan Chappelle was in middle-management hell. If he made the right choice, he might get a pat on the back, or perhaps even a depart mental citation — mainly he would get to keep his job. If he made the wrong choice, his career would effectively be over.
Ryan slapped his palms on the desk and stood.
“We’re going. Activate all tactical teams. Red Alert nationwide. I want both Crisis Management Teams to assemble in the situation room in five minutes.”
Prolix Security was located inside one of the older skyscrapers above Forty-second Street along Fifth Avenue. According to the building directory, the Prolix offices occupied one half of the twenty-sixth floor. Jack and Caitlin entered the building hand-inhand and walked right up to the first-floor security desk.
A bored guard looked up at their approach. “Can I help you?”
“Hi,” said Jack. “My name is Norm Bender and this is my wife, Rita. I used to work for Felix Tanner at
