Sarah’s phone rang. It was Arnold.
“This is Chloe,” Sarah said in a hostile tone, as she tried to maintain control of her Schwinn and talk on her cell phone at the same time. “It better be important!”
“It’s,” Arnold paused, momentarily dejected. “Edgar… Where are you, Chloe? I have the intel on the perp from the surveillance camera. Tony’s tracking him down right now. I could really use a hand holding things down at CTU .”
“I’m in route as we speak, Edgar. Now, can you please just let me go?”
“One more thing, Chloe. Can you stop by Krispy Kreme on the way? I’m really hungry.”
She hung up the phone without answering.
Randall hopped off his scooter and cautiously approached the perp’s residence. After careful consideration, he decided to knock on the front door.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said, flashing his credentials. “Tony Almeida, CTU .”
“Can I help you, son?”
“I’m conducting an investigation concerning a missing colleague. I have a few questions. Mind if I come in?”
Oh, my God. Another little weirdo, Frank Ritchey thought to himself, as he let the odd child into his house.
“Let’s start with an easy one. Where is the Sarin gas?” Randall asked, with quiet confidence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I really don’t. I don’t like this game you and your friend are playing. How did you find my house, you little creep?”
“I told you, my name is Tony Almeida.”
“Okay, Tony, I think it would be best if you’d leave my house, before I call the police.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Randall opened his ‘field kit’, revealing a number of odd items. A light bulb flashed in Frank’s mind. He’s planning on torturing me.
“Okay, get out! And get out now!”
Before Frank had a chance to apprehend Randall and toss him out, he had already been stuck by the syringe.
“It’s called sodium pentathol. You might have heard of the popular term ‘truth serum’. In a few moments you’ll tell me everything I need to know.”
Frank Ritchey had never been more terrified in his life.
Despite the fact that highly concentrated apple juice, not ‘truth serum’, was flowing through his veins, Frank Ritchey squealed like a canary. “And when I was in 5th grade, I stole a box of baseball cards from the 7-11.” He squirmed awkwardly. “What else do you wanna know!?”
“Where’s Jack?” he asked.
“Who the hell is Jack?”
Randall opened his PSP and said, “This is video footage taken earlier today of you being apprehended by Jack Bauer. Shortly after you were apprehended local police pulled jurisdiction and arrested Jack.”
“You answered your own question, Tony. He’s in jail, right?”
“Wrong. Moments later, Jack Bauer vanished without a trace. Tell me where he is?”
“I… don’t… I have nothing to do with this! You have to believe me!”
“Impressive, you’ve managed to resist the effects of the ‘truth serum’. Well, there are other ways we get people to talk, Mr. Ritchey.”
Randall pulled out hedge-clippers.
“A white van! I saw the police car get hit by a white van! That’s all I know!”