of his split-level, ranch-style house.
He glanced at his watch and realized he’d missed seeing Kim. Her school bus had come and gone. By now she was already sitting in homeroom. But then, missing his daughter on this particular morning might have been a blessing. Jack touched his wound. Under a thin jacket he was still clad in his black battle suit, the bloodstained bandage wrapped around his arm. Bad enough he kept weapons in the house. He didn’t like reminding Kim of the hazards that came with his job.
Looking forward to a cool shower and a few hours of sleep, he fumbled for his keys, felt the CD-ROM in his pocket, packed in an LAPD evidence bag. Though it took plenty of convincing, Detective Castalano allowed a team from CTU’s Cyber-Unit to take Hugh Vetri’s computer back to headquarters for analysis by Jamey Farrell. Jack’s argument — that CTU could do a much better job of mining the data on the hard drive than the LAPD — was logical and accurate. But both men knew the real, unspoken motive for Jack’s request.
It was the violation. The fact that Bauer’s privacy had been invaded and details about his personal life and the lives of his family had been compromised, perhaps putting them in jeopardy. Jack Bauer needed to know how and why that happened, and what he must do to protect those he loved.
That’s why he’d held on to the CD-ROM. He would slip that disk to Jamey later, unofficially and in private, and ask her to deliver her results to him personally.
The thought that his family might be in danger sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, and Jack paused before opening the door, to collect himself. Tamping down his fears, he steadied his hand. It was imperative that his family never see the anxiety, the uncertainty, the dread on his face. For Jack Bauer, bringing home his job, or its dangers, was not an option.
After unlocking the front door, Jack stepped into the foyer and then the living room, which was empty but hardly quiet. Kim had left the television on again — that, or his wife had taken to watching MTV. He slipped off his jacket, hung it in the closet. Then he quickly tore away the stained bandages and rolled thesleevedowntocover thewound.Heflexed his arm, moved it from side to side, happy to see the limb still worked and the pain had receded to a dull throb. Jack crossed the living room and switched off the television.
In the kitchen he stuffed the bandages deep into the garbage can. A fresh pot of coffee had just been brewed. The aroma was tempting, but Jack resisted it, knowing he needed a few hours’ sleep.
“Honey?” he called, walking toward the bathroom.
“In here,” came a muffled voice from farther down the hall.
Jack found his wife in the bedroom, still in her pajamas. She had pretty much emptied her closet, the clothes spread out across their queen-sized bed, the chair, desk and dresser, the shoes scattered across the floor.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“What’s going on is I don’t have a thing to wear.” Teri crossed the room, pecked her husband on the cheek. If she noticed his attire, she didn’t comment. Nor did she mention the lump on his head, though Jack wasn’t sure it was even visible.
“Are you going somewhere special?”
“I might be,” Teri replied. “Depends.”
Jack’s eyebrows arched. “Depends on what?”
“On whether I have something to wear tonight. Something suitable for television.”
“
“Not even close.”
Jack emptied his pockets, tossed his key, wallet, cell phone on the dresser. “Okay, I give up. What’s going on?”
Teri draped a little black dress over herself and examined her reflection. “Do you remember when I had that freelance job with Coventry Productions?”
Jack moved some clothing, sat down on the edge of the bed. “The animation studio? I remember. You worked with that other artist…Natalie.”
“Nancy.”
“That’s right. Nancy.”
Jack mind raced back to that time, two years before. What sprang to mind first were his CTU missions. Since coming to CTU, his missions had become the measure of Jack’s life. Two years ago, Operation Jump Rope was wrapping up and Operation Proteus was just launching. And at home — well, Jack wasn’t home enough to know, he remembered that much. Kim was entering her teens and the mother-daughter bond became a pact of mutual destruction.
Jack recalled that Teri was working long hours then, too. With some British animator named Dennis at an office in Century City. Jack never met the man beyond hearing his voice when answering the phone, but Teri seemed impressed with him — Jack remembered that much, too.
“So what’s up with Nancy?” he asked.
“Well I heard she just had a baby. A little boy.”
“You heard? From Nancy?”
Teri tore through another pile of clothing. “Actually Dennis Winthrop called. He was Nancy’s boss. I don’t think you ever met him so you wouldn’t remember his name.”
“No.”
“Anyway,
“That’s great,” said Jack. “Are you going to get a trophy if you win?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Teri laughed. “I worked as a freelance assistant for the background artist. I’m lucky to be invited. I can’t wait to see Nancy. And Carla and Chandra, too.”
Jack stood up, embraced his wife. “Since you might be on television, why don’t you go out and buy something brand new to wear?”
“That’s silly, Jack. I’ve already decided on the black dress.”
“Good,” he smiled. “You look pretty hot in that.”
“You don’t mind, do you Jack?”
“Of course not. Kim and I can get take out pizza.”
“Great. But don’t get pepperoni. Kim’s a vegetarian again.”
Jack snorted skeptically. “Since when?”
“Since I cooked meat loaf last night.”
“Well, we’ll have a great time trying to spot you during the broadcast.”
Teri laughed. “Don’t blink then.”
Jack sat back down on the bed, yanked off his chukkas, and tossed them into the corner. Teri walked to the mirror, brushed the short locks of dark hair away from her face with her long fingernails and studied her features in the glass.
“One more thing,” Jack said, rising and heading for the bathroom and a quick shower. “lf you
Teri smiled, catching Jack’s eye in the mirror. “You and Kim are always first on my list, Jack. You know that.”
4. THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 8 A.M. AND 9 A.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME
Although it was not nearly as spectacular as the famous Sierra Nevadas to the north, the San Gabriel Mountains and its surrounding national park had a more distinct advantage for the people of L.A. — it was only a thirty minute drive from the Glendale corridor. The San Gabriels were forested with oak, pine, and cedar and graced with clear streams, small lakes, waterfalls, and steep canyons perfect for fishing, hiking, and camping.
Several roads climbed into the 700,000-acre park, all of them twisting, steep and narrow, but the main route
