managed to snap a few pictures with the secure CTU cell phone camera, including a close-up of the license plate, before the truck roared around the bend and out of sight.
With a grim feeling that something ominous was stirring, Holman headed for the tiny town of Milton, on the banks of the Delaware River.
As soon as Jack Bauer returned to CTU Headquarters, he cleaned up and changed back into his own clothes. Sandy hair still damp, he summoned Morris and Layla to the security station.
“The bombers were Serbian,” Jack declared.
Morris appeared skeptical. “Serbs working with Muslims? That doesn’t make sense.”
The screen behind O’Brian displayed images of personnel from the NYPD Bomb Squad. The officers were swarming the roof and ascending the microwave tower on One World Trade Center, collecting the bombs that Jack had defused.
“I know about the religious tensions in Eastern Europe better than anyone,” Jack said. “But those men were Serbs. I know because I spoke to one of them in his own language.”
Jack rubbed his forearm, where traces of ink still lingered. “That man definitely recognized the 13 tattoo, and took me for an ally because I had one on my arm. It fooled him, long enough for me to get the drop on him, anyway.”
“Yet neither of these men had the 13 tattoo on any part of their bodies,” Layla observed. “Neither did the PA policeman.”
Morris shook his head. “Curiouser and curiouser.”
“What did you learn from that Port Authority cop?”
Jack demanded.
“He admitted his guilt immediately,” said Layla. “He claimed that he took a bribe to give those men access to the roof. They told him they were putting a device on the tower to steal cable signals.”
“And the idiot bought it?” Morris cried.
Layla shrugged. “He didn’t appear to be particularly bright.”
Jack glanced at the security camera images of the bomb squad at work. “There’s more to this than a bunch of paramilitary fanatics on a compound in New Jersey. We have to find out what the 13 symbol means and how it’s connected to the compound at Kurmastan. And we need to know who’s paying for out-of-town attack teams like the Serbs, and the hit men who tried to assassinate my team this morning.”
“You think it’s all connected?” Layla asked.
Bauer ignored the question, posed his own. “Do you know of any mystical, cultural, or political meaning to the number 13 in the Islamic faith?”
Frowning, Layla closed her laptop. Jack sensed her anger.
“Is something wrong with my question?”
Layla nodded. “Earlier, you asked me why I was here in New York, and not at Langley, using my language skills to monitor the chatter among Middle Eastern terrorists.”
“That’s right, I did.”
Layla’s dark eyes remained fixed on the laptop. “Here’s my honest answer,” she said. “These people on the compound, and the imams who inspire them, they are atavisms, perverted throwbacks to the seventh century. Medieval monsters who hearken back to a dark and terrible time. Their beliefs are an affront to reason. Frankly, as a Muslim — former Muslim, in my case — they are an embarrassment.”
“You’ve lost your faith, then?” Jack asked.
Layla looked up. “I’ve
My religion. My heritage. All of it.”
“Listen,” Jack said. “My last name. Bauer. It means
‘farmer’ in German.”
“So?” Layla replied.
“So I’m German. Should I be ashamed?”
She blinked. “Ashamed of what?”
“The Nazis? They brought Europe to its knees. They are responsible for the Holocaust. That’s my heritage, according to your logic.”
Layla shook her head. “That’s not a reasonable comparison,” she replied. “For starters, nazism was a political movement, not a religious jihad. And the only American religious community with roots in Germany are the Amish. And as far as I know, the Pennsylvania Dutch are not a pack of paramilitary fanatics.”
Morris chuckled. “She’s got you by the bollocks on that one, Jack-o.”
“As an American, I choose to live in
“There are bad seeds in every race, creed, and religion,”
Jack argued.
“Please, not
Jack opened his mouth. Layla silenced him with a raised hand.
“You won’t change my mind, Agent Bauer.” Her expression was resolute. “And for the record, we’ll get along better if you don’t even try.” Then Layla Abernathy rose, unplugged the laptop, and tucked it under her arm. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
Tony Almeida folded his arms as the doctor briefed him.
The physician was young, barely out of residency, but from his attitude, Tony sensed the man had already seen it all.
While he spoke, the diminutive Asian American peered through the door, at the woman stretched out on the hospital bed.
“Ms. Foy’s car was broadsided by a pickup truck,”
Dr. Lei said. “A stolen pickup truck, according to the police. She has seven stitches above her hairline to close a gash in her head. I’ve just checked the X-rays and there’s no sign of a fracture, so at worst she’s suffering from a concussion. That’s the extent of her injuries, except for a few bruised ribs.
“She was fortunate, Mr. Almeida. Very fortunate. The air bag saved her life. I’m keeping her here overnight, for observation, but I’ll most likely sign her release papers in the morning.”
Tony nodded. “I need to speak with her immediately.”
Dr. Lei shrugged. “She’s on pain management, but otherwise she’s alert. Just try not to get her too excited.”
“Got it, doc,” Tony replied. Dr. Lei moved on to his next patient.
Tony signaled Rachel Delgado, who was waiting at the nurses’ station. They entered the room together.
Judith Foy appeared small and pale and frail on the huge hospital bed. Her head was propped, and an IV tube ran from a bottle into her arm. Her shaggy red hair stuck out from under the bandages wound around her head.
Tony noticed some swelling around her nose and eyes—
probably the results of the air bag deployment.
“Deputy Director Foy. I need to speak with you,” Tony began.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you?”
she demanded in a surprisingly strong voice.
“My name’s Almeida. I’m from CTU.”
“Then why haven’t I ever seen you before?”
“I’m from Los Angeles Headquarters.”
“Oh, right. The consultants from the West Coast.” The woman’s deep azure eyes drifted to Rachel Delgado. “I’ve seen you before.”
