saying this computer ties in with the Richard Lesser investigation?”
This time it was Milo Pressman who spoke. “It sure does, Jack. There was a pirated movie download inside the hard drive, a copy of
“You said it was a pirated copy of
Chappelle spoke up. “Enlighten us, Jack. Start with telling us how and where you got this computer.”
Jack told them about Detective Frank Castalano’s visit, the murders at Hugh Vetri’s house — still not public news. He carefully left out the existence of the CD-ROM still in his pocket and the personal information on Bauer and his family the disk contained, hoping no one would ask why an LAPD detective contacted him in the first place.
“I see Jack’s point now. Why would Hugh Vetri download his own movie?” Chappelle asked.
“He knew the film was pirated. Maybe he wanted to see what the thieves really had,” offered Milo. “If he saw the pirate version, he might be able to trace it backward, to the thief who stole the digital file in the first place.”
“Or maybe he knew about the Trojan horse and wanted to stop the virus before it spread,” said Jamey.
“Any clue what this virus does?” Jack asked.
Milo shrugged. “We turned it loose inside an isolated computer. So far, nothing’s happened. The virus is encrypted too well to crack easily. We might have to reverse-engineer the sucker to figure out what it’s designed to do.” Milo paused. “That, or we can catch Little Dick Lesser. If I know the guy like I think I do, he’ll crack pretty easily.”
Jamey closed her eyes and quietly sighed.
“Dick Lesser’s fingerprints are all over this program,” Milo declared, throwing his hands in the air.
“This is just the kind of crap he used to pull at Stanford!”
Ryan Chappelle looked at Milo and grinned.
“Mr. Pressman. Are you saying you know this Richard Lesser?”
Milo, of course, never saw the hammer. “Yeah, sure,” he said, nodding. “I went to graduate school with him…When I was a TA, I had an office right next to his.”
Chappelle placed the palms of his hands on the table, pushed himself to his feet. “Mr. Pressman, I’m authorizing you to take a helicopter to the Mexican border, pick up a car from CTU’s safe house and head south. I want you to link up with Almeida in Tijuana as soon as possible.”
Milo blinked. “Hey, wait a minute. I don’t do espionage. I’m not a field agent.”
“Neither is Fay Hubley. You’ll join her in Mexico, too. Don’t worry. Tony will be there to handle security while you hunt for Lesser.”
“Me?” Milo cried, hand over his heart. “How am I gonna hunt Richard Lesser?”
“You know this guy,” Ryan replied. “Lesser’s psychology, quirks, things not found in any file.”
“But—”
“Get on it, Milo. Now.”
Chappelle crossed the conference room. He paused at the door. “And Jack — I’ll expect your after-action report on this morning’s botched raid on my desk within the hour.”
When Chappelle was gone, Jamey whirled on Milo. “I told you not to shoot your mouth off in front of Chappelle. You thought Chappelle was your pal. Now he’s sending you into harm’s way.”
Nina rose, waited at the door for Jack. He waved her off, approached Jamey Farrell.
“I need to see you in my office,” Jack said softly. “Twenty minutes.”
“Okay, boss,” Jamey replied with a puzzled expression.
Jack caught up to Nina in the hallway. “Thanks again, Nina.”
“What happened this morning, Jack?” she asked.
“You mean the raid? Like I told Chappelle. Bad intel, that’s all. It was a meth lab. Nothing more. Still haven’t found the Karma lab.”
“Well the DEA is making hay over the bust anyway. I saw the district head on the news ten minutes ago.”
Jack frowned.
“Stroke of genius bringing in that computer,” Nina continued. “Nothing like a diversion to redirect Ryan Chappelle’s attention away from a major snafu. I’m impressed. You’re starting to play bureaucratic politics like a chess master.”
Jack sighed. “I just want to do my job, Nina. That’s all.”
The curtains were drawn, the room was dark, the hum of the air conditioner a constant, white noise. When the knock came, a single rap, Tony rose from the bed and looked through the peephole.
Ray Dobyns stood on the other side of the scarred wood, rocking on his heels. The portly man wore a smug smile that told Tony the informant had found something.
Tony opened the door. Dobyns didn’t enter. Instead, he stood on the threshold, gazing past Tony at Fay, her face illuminated by the light from the monitor.
“Hey, old buddy. I was wondering if I might have a word with you. In private.” As he spoke, Dobyns’s eyes lingered on Fay, who pointedly ignored them both.
Tony slipped into the hallway, closed the door behind him. “What’s up?” he asked in a low voice.
“I think I may have a lead on Lesser,” Dobyns replied. As he spoke, he dabbed beads of sweat from his upper lip with a stained handkerchief. “Ever hear of a bar called Little Fishes? The address is Cinco Albino, just west of Centro.”
Tony shook his head.
“Yeah, well, Little Fishes is more than a bar. There’s a brothel upstairs. They deal drugs there, and stolen goods move through the warehouse behind the whorehouse. The whole set up is reputedly run by the SS.”
“What’s this got to do with Lesser?”
Dobyns shifted uneasily. “Word is a gringo came to the Little Fishes about a week ago. Brought a lot of computer shit with him. Been holed up on the third floor of that dump ever since. Sound about right to you, Navarro?”
Tony nodded.
“The bad news is the guy’s about to bolt,” Dobyns continued. “Been packing all day. He might be gone already.”
“Take me there now,” Tony commanded.
Dobyns nodded. “I thought that would be your reaction. But messin’ with the SS is gonna cost a bit more.”
“I’ll up the ante to twenty thousand. That’s the limit.”
Tony could see the war behind the man’s eyes, caught the moment when greed won over survival instinct.
“Can I trust you, Navarro?”
Tony met the man’s gaze. “If we find Lesser, then we both make out. If he gets away, we both get nothing.”
Dobyns nodded. “Okay. But we leave now, before our mark goes underground.”
9:59:11 A.M.PDT CTU Headquarters, Los Angeles
Jack Bauer had just handed over the disk to Jamey Farrell for analysis and sent her on her way — after
