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seated there. "The why is simple. They did it for money. The theory we've come up with is that someone on one of the research teams at Groom Lake, or maybe someone in supply or the classified material disposal unit, has a big-time gambling problem. In order to pay off a large debt, we're guessing this person passed along classified technology adapted for criminal use. Of course, once a syndicate has their claws into someone who can provide such technology, their debt would never be wiped clean. The mob would naturally squeeze them to supply more and more gadgets, until there's no juice left." Henderson's narrow face flashed a humorless smile. "And that's how we'll nail the bastards."

Pushing away from the table, Henderson strode to the front of the room. "We're going to use a two pronged investigation to plug this technology leak." He held up two fingers. "That's two teams, working at separate locations toward a single goal. One team will operate in conjunction with an undercover agent planted inside of Groom Lake. This agent will be working on one of the research teams conducting experiments at the testing range."

"Need a volunteer?" Nina asked.

"Agent Almeida will coordinate all surveillance activities with Ms. Farrell and Ms. Soo Min, who will monitor activities from here," Henderson replied.

"And the second team?" Jack asked.

"We're placing a three-member team undercover, right in the middle of a crooked casino in Las Vegas," he declared. "One agent will impersonate a mob lieutenant — that's you, Jack. Your cover story is that you're on the payroll of Kansas City mobster Gus Pardo. It's Pardo who owns the Cha-Cha Lounge."

Jack folded his arms. "I can tell you now, there's no way this will fly. What if someone contacts Pardo and asks questions?"

"Gus Pardo will vouch for you and your team, to anyone who asks. Even his own lieutenants."

Morris O'Brian scratched his forehead. "Why would this criminal help us?"

"Simple. We own him." Again, Henderson smiled. "Pardo's college-aged son was arrested for cocaine possession in South America. He's facing hard time in one of the worst prison systems in the world. If Pardo cooperates, he'll see his son again, compliments of the U.S. State Department. If Pardo screws us, his kid rots in a Peruvian jail for the rest of his short, miserable life. Naturally, we're convinced Pardo will cooperate..."

Jack blinked. "What am I supposed to do at this casino?"

"Loan shark. Launder money. Load the dice and water the booze," Henderson replied. "The one thing you will not do is catch professional cheats. We want the word to get around Vegas that the Cha-Cha Lounge is an easy mark. Sooner or later someone using classified technology to run a scam will walk through the doors, and we'll have them."

"And the rest of my team?"

"While you're watching the dealers, croupiers and pit bosses, Curtis Manning will provide overall security. Meanwhile Morris O'Brian will be up in the catwalk monitoring the customers using CTU's best surveillance equipment. The next time a cheater shows up with classified technology, we'll be ready."

Jack frowned, surprised at the sheer audacity of Henderson's plan.

"The Director's approved a three month operation. I'll petition to renew for another three if we come up empty... but I don't expect us to come up empty. Get creative, if you have to, but get results. In the next twelve weeks, I want at least one solid lead to take back to the Director. During that time, Jack, you and your team will be surrounded by a criminal element that is completely unaware of your true identities and motives. As far they're concerned, you're mobsters working for Gus Pardo's Kansas City crime syndicate, dispatched to Sin City to operate his casino..."

Henderson paused. "You all know what that means. This is deep cover. If anyone feels they are not up to this assignment, see me after the meeting."

Jack Bauer sat in silence, processing. He felt Christopher's hands on his shoulders. "Relax, Jack. How many agents get an all-expenses-paid assignment in Las Vegas?"

1THE FOLLOWING