Operation Hell Gate - Marc Cerasini [11]
Shocked, the other marshal stared up at Hensley while Jack reached for his P228. Bauer had just slipped his own gun free of its holster when Dante Arete punched him full in the face with his free hand. Jack reeled when he felt the hot sting on his jaw. The SigSauer flew from his hand and bounced across the floor. Bauer felt Arete's hands groping for his throat — ineffectively because of the handcuffs that hobbled his movement. As Arete continued trying to strangle Jack, Bauer released his safety belt, pushed himself out of the seat, and slammed the heel of his hand under Arete's jaw. The man's head snapped backward.
Meanwhile, with a bored expression on his face, Hensley shot the second marshal in the forehead before the young man could even draw his service revolver. Then he swung around to train his weapon on Jack Bauer — only to find the CTU agent hiding behind Dante Arete's body, his arm locked around the helpless prisoner's throat. With a muttered curse, Hensley dropped the Glock on his empty chair, drew his own FBI service revolver, and aimed it at the two men.
"Don't shoot, man," Dante Arete whined, free arm extended to ward off destruction. "Don't fucking shoot me."
"Listen to your prisoner," hissed Jack. "You'll have to put a slug right through Dante to get to me." As he spoke, Jack eyed his gun on the floor, too far away to do him any good.
Hensley's neutral gaze turned poisonous. "You crack me up, Bauer. What makes you think I care about the life of the punk son of a bitch who murdered my partner?"
Jack watched apprehensively as Hensley tightened his grip on the trigger...
* * *
9:16:07 P.M. EDT
CTU Headquarters, Los Angeles
"I can carry my own luggage, thank you very much!" The young woman charged past the security escort who'd met her at the airport and chauffeured her to CTU headquarters. She also ignored his call as she pushed through the double glass doors.
The young woman was gangly and too thin, her legs lean and muscular under a purple micro-mini and black tights. Her oversized Doc Martens clip-clopped on the unpainted concrete floor as her long, skinny arm hauled a bulky Pullman behind her. Strapped to the back of her "Nasicaa — Valley of the Wind" T-shirt was a pink Hello Kitty pack containing a personal computer, a cell phone, an MP3 player, and a PDA. A large black messenger bag dangled from her small shoulder, swaying with every bold step she took.
Seeing her barreling forward, the guard quickly stepped around the security desk and blocked her path. "Stop right there, miss. You need a pass to go in there."
"I've got time to get a security pass, but no time to find a place to sleep? Jeez, I mean, what's the rush? At least let me check into a hotel!"
The young woman's head seemed large for her wispy frame. Her pale features and wide mouth were hidden behind a silky curtain of long, straight black hair, parted only by dark-framed glasses too large for her tiny face. Behind the oversized lenses were wide, curious, almond-shaped eyes. Her only makeup was black eyeliner.
The young woman tapped her giant shoe impatiently while the guard verified her CTU identification and administrative transfer from the D.C. office. Finally he snapped her picture with a digital camera mounted on the desktop, then handed her a small plastic ID badge with a magnetic strip that allowed her access to some but not all areas of the CTU facility.
When she was officially checked in, the young woman kicked her American Tourister into a leaning position. Then she yanked it along, rolling it behind her as she marched into the center of CTU's busy command center. Technicians and analysts scurried about, ignoring her as they raced from station to station.
"Hey! I need to speak with the person in charge, please."
Nina Myers heard the cry and left her workstation.
"Can I help you?"
The girl released the Pullman and blew an errant lock of hair away from her face. She offered Nina a bony hand sheathed with smooth, ivory skin. "My