Operation Hell Gate - Marc Cerasini [16]
"Over here," a voice called weakly.
"You can't go back there," a fireman called. "There still fuel in those wings. It's a miracle this aircraft didn't explode on impact."
Special Agent Ray Goodman ignored the man. "Frank! Talk to me, Frank," he yelled again.
One of the firemen pointed. "I think someone's moving over there."
Minutes later, Goodman and the firefighter carried Frank Hensley out of the wreckage. Hensley hung limply between the two men until they reached an ambulance. Immediately, paramedics placed Hensley on a stretcher, slipped an oxygen mask over his face. The FBI agent swallowed air in great gulps. Agent Goodman loomed over him.
"What the hell happened, Frank?"
Hensley shook his head. "Don't know...A missile, I think..."
"It was a missile, all right," Goodman interrupted. "What happened to Dante Arete? The marshals, they looked like they'd both been shot."
Hensley nodded. "It was that CTU agent, Jack Bauer. Somehow he... he must have smuggled a Glock aboard. As the pilot was making the final approach, Bauer just started shooting. Killed the marshals..."
Hensley gasped like a fish out of water. A paramedic steadied him but he pushed the emergency worker away, struggled to rise. "When the plane hit the ground, Bauer shot the pilot, too. Then he helped Arete escape..."
"Steady, Frank."
"You don't understand," Hensley moaned behind the oxygen mask. "That man has got to be stopped — caught. Dead or alive. Jack Bauer is a traitor and a murderer and he's got to be stopped..."
2
THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 10 P.M. AND 11 P.M. EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
10:02:02 P.M. EDT
CTU Headquarters, Los Angeles
"The FBI aircraft ferrying Jack Bauer and suspect Dante Arete to New York City crashed upon landing thirty minutes ago."
Shocked, disbelieving voices erupted in the command center. Nina Myers had just descended the metal staircase leading to Jack's glass-enclosed office. She'd gathered personnel to update the Crisis Management Team on their boss's situation. Among the group stood Tony Almeida, Jamey Farrell, and Milo Pressman. Doris and Captain Schneider stood on the sidelines listening.
"As yet," continued Nina Myers over the chatter, "there has been no official word on what occurred. Unofficially, I believe the airliner was shot down as it landed at JFK, perhaps to prevent Dante Arete from talking to authorities. Firefighters and emergency service personnel have only just reached the crash site. Burning debris started a major fire inside a nearby hangar, which impeded rescuers from reaching the scene..."
Jamey's face turned ashen. "So we don't know if there are any survivors."
"No word yet..."
"Jack is carrying that new CDD satellite communicator. I can try to raise him," Jamey offered.
"Let's give it a little time. We're supposed to be observing radio silence. Let's follow protocol. Jack's in the field. Let him contact us."
Jamey chewed her lip. "Maybe I should activate the tracker."
Nina nodded. "Start the protocols, but don't transmit the signal until you get the order. For the rest of us — be advised that the Threat Clock has been pushed ahead three hours to Eastern Daylight Time." She glanced at her watch. "That makes it 10:05:52. Synchronize your chronometers, station clocks, and personal timepieces."
"What do we do until we hear from Jack?" Tony asked.
"If we hear from Jack?" whispered Milo.
"For starters, I want everyone to monitor all the communications coming out of New York City," said Nina. "That means emergency radio, police bands, fire and medical services, the traffic bureau, city and county government security frequencies — the works."
The staffers began to return to their stations. Milo heard his cell go off in his pocket. He checked the caller ID, groaned inwardly. No doubt another tearful voice message from Tina.
"One more thing," called Nina. "CTU is now in an official lockdown. No one leaves this building until the current crisis has been resolved...No exceptions."
Milo cursed, opened his cell phone, and began to toggle to