A/N: Well, well, well, Season 7 of 24 is over...I must say I can live with the way it turned out. I can also say it ranks very high in my book, but I don't wanna start a discussion on that now.

The good news is that, after some serious deliberation, I've decided not to abandon this fanfic, and it is with some pride that I'm presenting you the penultimate chapter of "Blowback". I hope you enjoy and review.

Jack picked up the last 9mm bullet from the glass coffee table in front of him and loaded it into the half full clip for the Beretta pistol that was lying on his lap. 142, the grand total of their ammunition. He'd consolidated the ammo as much as he could, ending up with four instead of five handguns to carry, three of them with full mags. The two Kalashnikovs with one extra magazine each and the Heckler & Koch that still had ten rounds in her completed their arsenal. Not too much, but it'd have to do.

He loaded the clip into the weapon, then slid off the couch. Kneeling down on the carpet, between the table and the three rifles laid out on the floor, he began to shove all the weapons into a nondescript black sports bag. He left the SIGSauer Tony had gotten from Marco and a Glock semi-automatic pistol on the table. He'd just set the Kevlar vest Tony had worn on top of the weapons and zipped up the bag when he heard the key click in the bathroom door. He glanced at the clock on the wall: it had been seven minutes since Tony disappeared in there.

Jack sat back on the couch and threw a quick look at the men on the ground. They were quiet. They were also both still wearing their vests. He planned on annexing one for his own protection when the time came, but for now the goons could keep them. Removing the vests would be a bit tedious while they were restrained anyway.

It was another ten seconds before Tony reappeared, shoulders slumped, head low, his face pained but somehow calm at the same time. He stepped into the room silently, almost inaudibly, as if he'd wanted to remain undetected. He didn't say anything, he just glanced at the prisoners, at Jack, and then just froze in place, as if waiting for Jack to make the first move.

Jack did, without breaking the silence. When he walked up to Tony, it was with an inquisitive stare on his face. Understanding Jack's mute question, Tony let his eyes sink for just a moment, then raised them again and nodded, sighing softly.

With a soft grasp of Tony's shoulder, Jack gave a nod of his own.

Tony let out another sigh, as if ridding himself of the weight of the world. Then he quietly said, "Let's get them to the garage."

"Yeah."

Jack picked up the two pistols from the table, gave the SIGSauer to Tony, and kept the Glock to himself. Tony released the magazine to check if it was full, slid it back in again and chambered a round.

Jack watched Tony with interest, trying to determine his state of mind. He knew Tony well enough to know he could still function in the field, despite the worries in his head. But he also knew that Tony just might freak out if he failed to protect Michelle, or failed to save her.

When Tony wordlessly moved towards the other men, Jack grabbed him by the forearm, stopping him, and said in a low voice,

"How do you wanna play this?"

With the darkest expression on his face, Tony stared back at him, glanced at the prisoners, and finally replied, in a deep, calm voice, "Just let me do this."

Jack let him go.

--

While Jack picked up the weapons bag from the floor, Tony hauled the two men to their feet.

"Try to screw with me and you won't live long enough to laugh," he promised them.

Armando lifted his chin up and stared straight at Tony. "What do you want from us?"

"Answers," Tony said simply.

"Then you can kill both of us right now," Armando stated with defiance. "We don't know anything."

Salvador's gaze dropped.

Tony coldly stared back at Armando. "If you convince me of that, maybe I will... Move."

Jack took the lead, followed by Armando and Salvador, and finally Tony. He opened the garage door and paused for a second to assess the new surroundings. Four concrete steps led down to the garage level. The parking space in the middle stood empty. The walls, painted a cold shade of blue, were lined with workbenches, auto supplies, shelves and tools; a typical garage with the obligate mess.

As soon as Jack stepped through the door and down the first of the steps, Armando pushed his body into Jack, leading with his right shoulder, and sent Jack down the stairs faster than Jack had planned to go. Jack stumbled but caught himself enough to control his fall. He rolled over his right shoulder and his back, landing on his feet and almost instantly turned towards the attacker again, going for his gun.

Reacting just as fast, Tony shoved Salvador out of the way with one hand while readying himself to shoot at Armando with the other. Salvador fell to the side of the stairs and screamed in pain. Tony ignored him. With his hands tied behind his back, Armando couldn't really do much else but try to kick the weapon out of Tony's hand. Tony deflected the kick with his right arm, then stepped behind Armando.

Jack had raised the Glock in Armando's direction, but with Tony in the way and in motion, he didn' thave a shot.

"Tony, get out of the way!" Jack yelled.

Instead, Tony took Armando into a sleeper hold, with the pistol stabbing Armando's spine.

Although the situation seemed under control, Jack watched Tony vigilantly, gun ready to plant a shot between Armando's eyes.

"Tony?" he questioned.

"I'm fine!"

With his arm safely locked around Armando's throat, Tony walked him through the garage door and down the stairs. With each second that passed, he held him tighter, closing off his air supply a little more.

Jack glanced at Salvador. The man was lying on the floor, grimacing in pain. Jack looked him over; his left foot was pointing outwards.

"You, come here!" Jack commanded, gesturing with his weapon.

"I can't walk!" Salvador whined, "I broke-"

"THEN CRAWL!"

Salvador picked himself up and instantly obeyed.

Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him in the middle of the parking space. "Sit right there! Don't move."

Right then, Armando somehow managed to get his hands between Tony's legs and tried to thug at his sensitive parts.

What the hell is this balls fixation today? Tony thought, annoyed, before he violently shoved Armando towards a wall and fired a shot at him, as if he were a metal swaying cowboy at a town fair's shooting stand.

He didn't miss.

Armando's stance broke. Blood began to happily rush from his left thigh. He slumped to the ground without a wimper.

"Now, sit tight and shut the hell up," Tony commanded. As he watched a puddle of blood begin to form underneath Armando, growing larger by the second, Tony knew he'd have to work Salvador fast.

"Jack, check the door," Tony said, nodding at the sliding door at the other end of the garage.

Jack nodded in response and ran over to the door. It was locked, but there was a remote sensor, which meant that it could be opened from the outside at any given time. Jack fetched a hammer and broke the sensor.

Then Tony told him darkly, "Give us some space."

--

Danielle Kreuk lit a Camel, threw the match down on the concrete floor and stood from the chair she'd been sitting on. Slowly, deliberately, she walked over to the nearest wall. There, she turned, and like a wild cat roaming her cage, directed herself to the opposite end of the room, while deeply breathing in the smoke. Eleven steps. Like an olympic swimmer would when reaching the end of the pool, she touched the wall and pushed herself away from it before moving back again - another eleven steps. And another eleven... All that was missing on her cage were steel bars. But the electronic lock at the door was more than sufficient to keep her inside.

"Marco, where the Hell are you?" she whispered to the quiet air around her.

It didn't respond.

She took another drag from the cigarettete, and exhaled in one long breath that seemed to let out every last molecule of the air in her lungs. She played with the lighter that was still in her other hand, turning it in her palm numerous times without being aware of it. She sucked on her cigarette so hard that with the next drag, the orange glowing end of it had almost reached the filter.

Her shoes connected with the floor fifteen more times before the display on the electronic lock flashed green. She put out the cigarette and assumed a waiting position in front of the chair. From the pit of her stomach, nervousness was rising. She tried to force it down by swallowing hard.

The nervousness dissipated the moment she recognized the person about to enter.

"Marco, finally," she said with relief as he stepped inside.

"Hey..." he uttered lowly while the door fell shut behind him.

Danielle took two large steps towards him, ready to hug him. Marco remained where he was.

She suddenly stopped at an arm's length, a puzzled look on her face. "What's wrong?"

Marco scratched his chin, glanced at her, at the floor, and back at her again. There was a cryptic stare in his own eyes which he couldn't and didn't try to hide. An odd look of confusion, mixed with pain and guilt.

"What is it?" Danielle asked again, her voice now betraying a slight note of worry.

Marco passed an open hand over his skin, from the neck to his lower lip, squeezed his chin slightly, then took a long breath and finally made himself say,

"Look, about your husband..."

Danielle shrugged. "What about him?"

Marco pushed his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. "Well, I know you loved him, and he's the girls' father, and I... I'm sorry."

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "Why? You didn't kill him."

Marco's gaze dropped to the floor again. He might not have personally killed him, but he had personally delivered him to Tony. From where he stood, it felt like he'd pulled the trigger himself.

He'd spent many minutes outside Danielle's room, thinking. However he'd turned it, twisted it, pondered it, it came out wrong...

This was going to be the hardest confession he'd ever made. Even now, he still didn't know how to tell her. He just knew he had to somehow.

But when she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, Marco raised his eyes to meet hers. He expected to see the same hurt in her eyes that he'd seen when she saw her husband's dead body. But he didn't. Instead there was calmness.

"Look, the bastard had it coming," Danielle stated levelly, almost without emotion. "He got what he deserved."

Marco's eyes widened and his head tilted to the side. For a moment there, he had no reply. Danielle saw his amazement and placed her other palm against his chest. The hand slowly slid towards his free shoulder while she softly said,

"Look, I did love him... and I'll miss him... But you more than anyone else know that things haven't been good lately.. And with what happened today and what I learned about him, my views have changed dramatically."

Finally, Marco managed to stutter, "But... Inside, with Michelle..."

"Oh..." Danielle softly set her other hand to his chest and led it up to his free shoulder, "I just wanted to tell her that Tony had escaped, and that Ray Keagan was here, that's all."

Marco didn't know what to say. .

Danielle produced a half-smile. "I should have told you before we went in... But I didn't know what to expect."

Marco nodded numbly; his head was spinning. Absent-mindedly, he led his hands up her buttocks and to the base of her spine. He pulled her a little closer.

--

While Jack hurried back inside the house, Tony nonchalantly ambled to one of the benches, inspecting the tools that hung above it or lay on it. Within a minute or so, he'd picked up a hammer, two differently sized hacksaws and a battery-powered drill and carried them over to the center of the room. His eyes firmly set on Salvador, he laid the tools down on the concrete, one by one, as if making a statement.

Then he crouched between the two men and set the firearm he carried down, next to the drill.

"What are you trying to do?" Armando said with scorn in his voice.

I'm not trying... Tony thought, but ignored him for now, and spoke to Salvador instead.

"The bastard the two of you are working for is holding hostage the woman I deeply love," Tony said levelly, somehow managing to keep the inner turmoil from showing in his tone. "He's planning on puttin' her on a boat tonight." He fixed his stare at Salvador. "You know when, you know where, and you're gonna tell me. You'll also tell me what kind of backup he's expecting and everything else I wanna know."

Silence.

Tony nodded. He didn't expect it to be that easy, though he knew in his gut that it wouldn't be too hard.

"See, I don't have the truth serum on me and this ain't a government agency," he almost whispered, "So here's how this is gonna go down..." He picked up the smaller hacksaw and gave Salvador a dead stare. "I will use everything at my disposal to get this information out of you. So, if you'd prefer to keep all of your limbs, I suggest you start talking."

Each of Tony's words seemed to install more fear in Salvador's eyes. Tony heard Armando move and threw a quick look at the man.

Armando had pulled his strength together and his body up against the wall he was leaning on. "Your lady is a sweet one," he said lowly.

"Got somethin' to tell me?" Tony scoffed.

"Yeah..." Armando was breathing like he'd just come back from a 12 mile run. "I heard her scream..."

A wave of fear washed over Tony. For a second there, he didn't know what he wanted more: to shut Armando up or to hear what Sanchez had done to Michelle.

"Colonel don't like betrayal..." Armando added.

Tony chose to take control. He hopped up with the SIGSauer in his hand and leaped over to Armando, stepping into the sticky puddle of blood on the floor as he rested the cold metal against Armando's forehead.

"You'd better think very well about the next words to come out of your mouth," Tony told him coolly, "Cause if I don't like what I hear, I'll cut your pain short."

Armando's lips stretched into a thin grin. "Vete - al infierno."

Tony pulled the trigger.

Armando's head dropped with a fresh hole above the nose.

Having taken control of the situation, Tony stood for a few seconds, arm frozen in place, trying to regain control over his body and mind. A few deep breaths were all the time he could allow himself, even if that alone wouldn't suffice to calm his worrying heart.

Salvador's quiet gasps brought him back to the reality of the moment, and the need to take advantage of it. Tony launched himself at the man, grabbing the guy's dislocated ankle with one hand and a hacksaw with the other, and touched the tool to Salvador's shin.

"You wanna keep your limbs intact, you'd better start singing, cuz I'm seriously running out of patience!" Tony yelled, pressing down on the hacksaw.

"No, no, por favor!" Salvador begged.

Tony drew blood from the ankle. "TALK!!!"

A whimper escaped Salvador and he finally relented, "Okay!"

Tony kept the pressure on the hacksaw and prepared to listen.

--

Danielle had heard Michelle scream a few times before Marco walked in, and now another scream penetrated the little room where they stood. She glanced at the door with fear, and asked heavy-heartedly,

"What are we going to do? Sanchez will kill Michelle in the end."

Marco slid his arms around her shoulders to comfort her.

"No, he won't." He whispered, closing his eyes, willing himself into believing his own words.

"How do you know that? You can't know that."

Marco sighed. "He's trying to break her," he said, and a look of true fear caught Danielle's face. "It's what he does," he added.

Despite the fear, Danielle didn't look away. He sighed, and squeezed her shoulders a little more, as if making sure she was there, and there to stay, before explaining the rest of it to her.

"She's worth nothing to him dead... He'll keep her alive, and put her on that boat. "

"But we can't just let him, we have to do something..."

Marco pulled back with a sigh. "Danielle, listen to me. Trafficking is his business. He'll sell anyone he can. And that includes you."

"Me? But Bas was his partner..." Danielle tried.

"Was. He's dead. And you've seen things you weren't supposed to see... That's my fault, too. I didn't see this coming... But now... Sanchez won't let you go. He could kill you or put you on that same boat and sell you to some ruthless prick down in South America. I can't let that happen."

"Well, what are you going to do? "

"I have to get you out of here..."

"But how?"

"I don't know yet... I don't know, all I know is that we have to try as soon as we get a chance." Then he let go of her and took a long breath. "Even if Michelle doesn't break, Sanchez has instructed his backup to kill everyone who worked with Bas. Which leaves us... minutes, not hours."

"But... What about Michelle?"

Marco took a step back and rubbed his face with both palms, turning away from Danielle. For a moment there when Tony was getting ready to escape, all Marco had wanted to do was reassure Tony, let him have his revenge, do whatever he could to help; for a second there, he'd forgotten Danielle was on her way, he hadn't even thought about the fact that he was about to deliver her husband to execution... Not until after he'd agreed to call Kreuk down to the holding room and couldn't go back.

"Please don't make this any harder than it already is," Marco whispered through his fingers.

When Danielle remained quiet, he dropped his arms to his side, and softly added. "I promised Tony... to take care of Michelle. But..." he sighed, "now there's nothing I can do for her short of killing Sanchez," he continued his reasoning, "Yet, if I do that, none of us will make it out alive... Not you, not I, and certainly not her."

He looked at her apologetically and said softly, "Maybe I can help Tony from the outside... But I have to get you out of here first..."

--

"Who shut off the electric fence?" Sanchez asked Michelle for the twentieth time since he started the interrogation.

Michelle's body felt heavy. Her hands were numb. Her eyes were closed, a mixture of blood and saliva trickled from the corners of her mouth. Her left wrist was broken, from the chain wrapped around it, her weight hanging from it and the jerking of her body every time an electroshock hit. The pain from the fracture was already almost unbearable, though the throbbing and pounding in her head promised her it would get worse later. Her stomach and back showed several burn marks. Sanchez's thug stood to her side with two rubber-isolated cables and waited for further instructions from his boss.

"Who helped him?" Sanchez asked again. "Tell me and the pain will stop."

Michelle feebly pushed her eyelids up, forced them to stay open while she raised her stare towards him. She did want the pain to stop. More than anything else at that moment. But telling on Marco after what he did for them... She couldn't. She'd blow his cover, she'd get him killed. She couldn't do that... And she had no idea where Tony and Jack were...

How much longer would she still have to hold out?

How much longer could she hold out?

--

Jack peered out from behind the drapes on a window. The darkness was undisturbed; nothing moved. As far as he could tell, they were safe so far. But they couldn't stay here much longer. He needed to do a recon run of the surroundings, get back to the compound, see for himself if Sanchez's backup was already there, see if they were even still at the compound. Even though he had no exact intel on when Sanchez would be mobilizing, he felt in his gut that the time was short. The house was built in a depression, with trees on each side, and the hills surrounding it offered both a strategical advantage and disadvantage.

He let the drapes fall into place again. They needed real-time intel if the mission was to succeed, but leaving Tony alone just about now didn't seem like such a great idea.

Jack shook his head. Here they were again. Soldiers, fighting a war, doing whatever's necessary to take out the bad guys and save the innocent... As much as they'd tried to escape it, this world always just caught up with them; there was no escaping. And he realized, maybe this was them, more than either of them wanted to admit...

There's a difference, though, Jack rationalized. You had a choice this time around - Tony didn't.

For a while, he listened to Tony firing questions at Salvador and the continuous flow of answers in return. Tony had broken him. Easily, it seemed. And Jack, how many things had he done lately that he'd hoped never to have to do again? And yet he did, and it had come naturally. Easily, like riding a bike. Like breathing. Sometimes he hated the killing machine he'd become.

Occasionally, he'd catch a word or two of what was said in the garage, but most of it was just background noise. And for a moment, he couldn't help but inwardly frown at the irony. Him, Tony, Michelle - they'd all left that world in order to survive.

And now that world was their only hope of surviving.

And then his thoughts took a detour and he began to wonder how much of it all was really them, and how much was CTU. All those years, cumulative decades of protecting the country, serving the Government, ready and willing to lay their lives down for the right cause, the whole mindset of stopping the bad guys by all means necessary - was it really that natural or was it just the training? Could they ever go back to being whatever they'd been before it all?

He didn't answer his question, but he didn't need to: neither of them were the same person any more... CTU sometimes seemed like an octopus with a hundred arms, reaching around each and every corner, and under every rock, finding them wherever they tried to hide. It crept up behind you like a phantom and transformed you into something else, something you'd never thought you could be. It was more than a place of work, more than a government agency. It was in them, under their skin, in their blood.

It would never let them go.

He noticed that his own thoughts had distracted him only when, instead of the continuous back and forth of the voices, he became aware of a few moments of silence. He remembered what he'd initially been thinking about. They couldn't stay here much longer, they were too exposed. The house was too obvious, too easy to find. What he and Tony had originally used as a ploy to outsmart the enemy now screamed "find me". They were sitting ducks.

Finding his focus again, he glanced out of the window again, seeing nothing but the black.

"Don't move," he heard Tony say, and then footsteps followed, as Tony left Salvador to stare at Armando's dead body.

Jack gave himself a push and met Tony halfway into the room. "How'd it go?"

Tony nodded. "I got the information we needed." He'd found that once Armando was dead, Salvador was a pretty chatty person. "I know there are no absolutes but after I killed his partner, I didn't need a polygraph to see he was scared enough to tell the truth."

Jack stopped just an arm's length away from Tony. "Good, so what did you find out?"

Tony took a long breath and rested his hands on his side. "Sanchez has asked for six men as backup and they are probably arriving at the compound as we speak or are already there. And it looks like the transport is scheduled for 3 A.M., which gives us just over an hour to prep and execute our operation. The boat will dock just South of Bodega Bay, off Doran Beach Road. Unknown number of hostiles on the vessel but all expected to be armed."

"Bodega Bay," Jack echoed. He remembered it from Tom's spreadsheet. It made sense. "That's just around three miles from here as the crow flies. We'll have to be quick if we want to take them out before they reach the beach."

"Yeah, but that's not all," Tony sighed, his head tilted to the left.

"What is it?" Jack asked, sensing Tony's discomfort.

Tony lowered his eyes, while the image of the wordless submission of the young woman back at the compound and Michelle's frightened face hit him like a nightmare again. He took a long, heavy breath before forcing the information to come out.

"Apparently, Sanchez is bringing twenty South American women into the country on that same vessel."

Jack wearily rubbed his eyelids. He stayed silent but soon returned his gaze to Tony, whose eyes, filled with conflict and hurt, wandered a little before he raised them at Jack.

"Look, uh..." Tony finally uttered, "If we attack that transport before it reaches the harbor, the women on that boat are doomed."

Jack shook his head in disapproval. "Tony, I know where you're coming from, but we can't save everyone. Our resources are very limited, you know that. We have to focus on what we can accomplish. Our mission objective has to be rescuing Michelle."

"Don't ya think I know that, Jack?" Tony said emphatically. "Don't ya think my heart bleeds more with each minute that ticks away? D'ya think I'd ever forgive myself if..." He bit his tongue. "But this isn't only about Michelle any longer..."

As Tony's voice faded, Jack turned away and took a step back.

Tony fought a tightness in his chest but underlined, "I can't walk away, Jack," knowing what Michelle would want him to do. "And neither can you."

"Dammit, Tony, I'm not talking about walking away," Jack said energetically as he spun to face Tony again. "We can call in the Coast Guard."

"Yeah," Tony tilted his head, finding Jack's eyes. "And you're willing to answer their questions, too?"

Taken aback, Jack stared at Tony in silence. He's right. I can't allow the Coast Guard to lay eyes on me. We have to do this on our own.

"I've seen what he does to them," Tony whispered with anguish in his voice. He couldn't force himself to elaborate, and was glad when Jack finally caved in.

"Fine. We'll get them at the harbor."

Tony nodded, heaving a sigh. Why is it that knowing you're doing the right thing doesn't automatically mean you feel good about doing it?

Slowly, he began to retreat.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then called after him.

"Tony."

Tony stopped and waited for Jack to join him. Jack didn't. Instead, Jack backed up, away from the garage and towards the front door. Tony followed him there.

"What is it?" Tony asked, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Jack lowered his voice. "If we're gonna pull this off, we're gonna need some help."

Tony nodded in agreement. "Yeah, well... Marco will be on our side."

"We don't know that," Jack said in a persuasive voice. "We don't even know if he's still alive. His cover may have been compromised by your escape."

Jack was right. Marco could be dead, although Tony would rather not have considered that option. Tony folded his arms at his chest and sighed loudly. "Fine, so what are you thinking?"

Jack hesitated, and just locked eyes with Tony, as if trying to read him. Tony stared back at him, wondering what kind of a bomb was waiting on the other side of Jack's moment of hesitation.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

Then Jack just said it. "Sebastián."

Tony's eyes widened in shock. "No."

"Tony -"

Tony shoved an index finger against Jack's chest. "No, Jack! You're not dragging him into this!"

Jack calmly replied, "Tony, we could use the help."

"I SAID, NO!" Tony yelled, shoving Jack towards the nearest wall. "Seb stays out of this!"

Jack pushed Tony back, creating some distance. "Tony, just think! Sebastián served in the Army, he's seen combat. We can trust him. If you want to get Michelle back alive, we will need all the help we can get!"

"We'll make it!"

"Tony!"

"SHUT UP, JACK!" Tony yelled, pushing Jack hard. He slammed him against the wall and pinned him there, arms across Jack's chest.

Jack could have fought back but there was no point injuring each other before a battle, so he stood still and let Tony vent like he'd known he would.

"Keep him outta this, y'understand me, Jack?" Tony shouted, exasperated. "Having one family member's life on the line is enough, I'm NOT jeopardizing another!"

Jack just glared at Tony, not saying a word. Tony's right arm slid higher, to Jack's throat, and he began to choke him.

"Promise me!" Tony yelled.

Jack grabbed Tony's arm with both hands, starting to push it down. Tony pressed down harder.

"Promise me!"

Jack seemed to be waiting for Tony to cut off his air, but then he grudgingly agreed. "Fine. Let me go."

Now it was Tony who hesitated, trying to read in Jack's eyes whether this was a promise or a play.

Jack's trachea had started to feel really uncomfortable. If Tony kept this up, Jack would have to take counter-measures. But for now, he just croaked, "Let me go."

Tony waited another second or so, and then finally stepped back, not breaking eye contact with Jack.

"I'm tellin' ya, Jack... Keep him outta this..."

Eventually, he directed himself to the garage, throwing one last doubtful look at Jack before disappearing in there.

--

Marco's radio chirped and a metallic-sounding voice announced, "All units - we have an ETA on Alec's crew: five minutes. I repeat: five minutes."

"All units?" Danielle questioned, while Marco was tying a loose knot in the rope he used to bind her arms behind her back.

"Ah, he digs cop talk. Watched too many movies," Marco replied, finishing the knot. "Is this okay?"

Danielle tried to move her arms. The ropes didn't fall off but they weren't too tight, either. "Yes, that's good."

Marco stepped to her front and took out a black hood, which he then set on the zenith of her head, and held on to it with both his hands for a moment.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Danielle asked anxiously.

"It has to," Marco replied confidently, planted a soft kiss onto her lips, and slowly pulled the black hood down, covering her face with it. He kissed her forehead through the fabric and whispered, "Just trust me."

"I do."

"Let's go," Marco uttered, and cautiously opened the door.

--

Sanchez signaled to his man to back off, and positioned himself in front of Michelle. "You're tougher than I thought," he said. "Just one thing I don't understand - why?"

Michelle had no strength to engage in a conversation. She remained silent.

"There's no reason for all this pain, Michelle. Just tell me. Whoever shut down the fence ain't helping you now, is he? And Tony... He left you behind, didn't he? He didn't care. He ran to save himself. And he's dead. So why are you protecting them? Why not make your life easier and just tell me what I'm asking?"

There was a long silence, and then Michelle quietly uttered Tony's name.

César Sanchez moved even closer. "What did you say?"

"Tony... lives."

Sanchez hit her face with a strong backhand, sending blood spraying on the floor below. Leaning on the crutch in his left hand, he grabbed her hair with his right and put his lips almost to her ear.

"I'll give you a count of ten to tell me who helped Tony. If you don't, I'll cut you down and let each of my men have you right here, right now. And the same with every man on the boat and every man you meet all the way down to Perù..." He paused and now got so close to her that his nose touched hers. "Because, Michelle, you are taking that boat tonight."

Then he hopped a step back. Eyes fixed on hers, he began the countdown. "Ten... "

--

Marco had led Danielle through the building without any of the men questioning his actions. There weren't many to begin with, and those still alive had their hands full. At the main door, he stopped to look about once more. The electronic lock had been shot to hell, so all it took for the door to slide open was a gentle push.

Marco stepped into the gentle breeze and into the night. There was no other way out but through the front gate, and that's where he directed himself and Danielle. He wasn't startled when one of the two floodlights on the roof found them. Sanchez had had it repaired in a rush, and Marco had expected it. Danielle suddenly stopped, however, and he had to give her a convincingly rough push to get her to move again.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm authorized to be out here. Just keep moving."

Indeed, no one shot at them. The light's beam even helped Marco see the ground ahead. "We're almost at the gate now," he whispered to her just before a flashlight's beam blinded him, and a faceless uniform yelled,

"Halt! What do you want here?"

Marco pulled Danielle back, and stopped too. "Look, I'm Marco Whistle, I need to pass through that gate now."

"Why?" the voice asked.

"That's none of your business," Marco tried. "Boss's orders."

The uniform flashed the light to Danielle's dark hood, then to Marco's face. "Who's she?"

"That's also none of your business."

A moment's hesitation on the other side of the gate was followed by the expected, "I need to call it in. Wait there."

But Marco couldn't wait. As soon as the wanna-be cop lowered his flashlight, Marco pulled his silenced handgun and blew the guard's face away. Then he did the same with the other guard, and at that moment, took the black hood off Danielle's head and began to pull her forward by her right arm.

"Run."

She did, and while she ran, she freed her hands. Just as she reached the gate, she threw the ropes to the ground. Marco took a shot at the gate's lock. It sprung open, he let Danielle through, and ran off after her.

--

"Three..."

In order to motivate Michelle even more, Sanchez had stepped on her injured ankle and rested all of his weight there. The crutch gave him the stability he needed on his own injured leg, allowing him to release his weight and bring it down again at regular intervals, causing Michelle to scream each time.

"Two..."

Tears ran down Michelle's face like waterfalls, what from pain, what from shame and fear.

But as Sanchez slowly uttered, "One..." she reached her limit.

"Marco..." she said loud enough for him to hear.

"What?"

"M... Marco... Whistle..." she repeated and instantly hated herself for it.

Sanchez smiled smugly. "Marco Whistle? The guy on Kreuk's crew who brought you here?"

"Y...yes..."

Sanchez stared at her a few more seconds, as if to make sure she had told him the truth. Then he nonchalantly stepped away from Michelle and sat into the chair a few feet back.

"Kill him," he told his goon and leaned back, "and send two men in here."

--

In the garage, Salvador was lying face down on the concrete floor, not daring to move. Tony walked back and forth, a few steps away, staring numbly at something in the palm of his right hand. It was a tiny photograph of Michelle. It had suffered a little today, but the creases in the paper couldn't damage her beauty. Tony sighed. They couldn't. But Sanchez...

Tony sighed to himself. He kept trying not to let his fear distract him, but it was next to impossible. How could he not think about it? All his actions over the past hours revolved around saving Michelle, but time kept ticking away, and there was a very real chance the rescue attempt might come too late. What if Sanchez changed his mind about making profit and chose simple revenge instead? What if she was already...

No, he stopped himself before he could end that thought. No, don't think like that now. He wanted to convince himself that he would know if it happened, that he'd feel it...

Would he?..

He suddenly became aware of footsteps from within the house. It could only have been one person.

"Jack, where ya goin'?" Tony called out, returning the photograph to his wallet.

"To the bathroom," Jack yelled back. A few seconds later, the door clicked and locked.

Tony shoved his wallet back into his jeans pocket, and waited; one minute, two, three. As time passed, he couldn't help a grain of doubt settle in his mind. This was taking too long. He knew Jack too well. If Jack was supposed to be keeping watch, he'd keep watch. He wouldn't leave his post and disappear for minutes at a time - not to go to the bathroom, not to do anything at all without prior notice. Jack seemed to be in control of his body at all times.

Acting on his intuition, Tony gave himself a push, and went inside the house, wondering what was really going on.

"Jack, we gotta pull out," he called from the hallway, waiting to hear which direction Jack would reply from. "There's nothing else we can do here. We're sittin'- "

At that second, the bathroom door flung open and Jack walked out, right into Tony's inquisitive stare. Tony immediately noticed a handset in Jack's hands. I knew it...

With disappointment settling in, he questioned, "Y'always take the phone with you into the bathroom?"

"Back off, Tony," Jack retorted and tried to shove Tony to the side in order to pass him by.

Oh no, you're not. Tony thought, stepped into Jack's path, and caught Jack's right arm with one hand, while pushing the left flat against Jack's chest. "Who were you callin'?"

Jack stared at Tony, but refused to reply.

Tony shook his head in disbelief, not really needing a verbal answer to understand.

"Damn it, Jack, I thought I'd told you!"

"Listen to me, Tony-"

"No, you list-"

"Listen to me!" Jack said pointedly, as he got right into Tony's face. "What will happen to Michelle if we fail? If Sanchez takes her away? Someone had to know what's going on. If we don't make it, your brother is her only chance!"

Uh-huh... Tony thought. He gave a doubtful nod and smirked. "That's why you called Seb? To tell him what's goin' on."

"Yeah," Jack said simply, though he could see that Tony wasn't exactly buying it.

Tony knew his own brother even better than he knew Jack - and he knew Jack too well. "All right... So what'd he say?" he asked with that suspicion in his voice that told Jack any further denial was useless.

"He's on his way."

"Damn you, Jack!" Tony yelled, forcefully pushing Jack backwards.

Jack shoved him back and shouted, "I didn't ask him to! It was his decision!"

Tony lashed out at Jack but Jack caught his arm first and stopped it in mid-air. "Just like it was Kim's decision to pose as Jane Saunders and not mine."

Tony's jaw dropped. You son of a bitch...

"You told me that, remember?" Jack added, holding Tony's stare.

Tony knew he'd been disarmed. Yeah, I remember... he replied inwardly. It was different, though. Kim had full tactical support from CTU, didn't she? And even so, I still almost lost Michelle to Saunders after that.

His stare suddenly filled with disdain. Alright, Jack. You win. Finally, he backed up. Then he walked away.

Sorry, Tony, I had to do it, Jack thought while watching him leave. We ran out of options.

A couple of steps from the garage door, Tony halted. Unable to bear looking at Jack, he uttered with his back towards him, "When's he coming?"

"Less than thirty minutes."

From where he lives, it should take him at least ninety,Tony thought. He slightly looked over his shoulder, his eyes strictly at the floor.

"How?"

"He was at Black Point on business today." Jack answered factually. "He was going to stay the night. There's a small airfield about five miles out. He'll try to get someone to fly him over to Bodega Bay and wait for us there. "

Tony nodded. Should have known you're always thinking.

Numbly, he retreated to the garage, and this time, shut the door behind him.