24/JackChloe/R/Cold
Title: Cold (1)
Fandom: 24
Pairing: Jack/Chloe
Rating: R for violence
Prompt: Cold
Table: One
"This sucks," Chloe muttered as she sat hunched over her laptop.
Jack glanced over at her. "It's not that bad."
She shot him a glare. "No, Jack, it really is. Remind me again why I had to come?"
He sighed. "Because we need surveillance on this house. We think a terrorist cell is being run out of it."
"I know all that," she snapped. "That still doesn't explain why I need to be here."
Jack watched her for a minute, frowning. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I really didn't think it would bother you that much."
Chloe closed her eyes and sighed. "It's not you, Jack," she said. "It's just…I get nervous whenever I have to go out into the field. And I'm cold. And both of those things make me very cranky."
He gave her a small smile. "Well, I can't do anything about being out in the field, but I think I can help with the cold."
Standing up as tall as he could in the van, he took his jacket off and placed it gently on her shoulders, letting his hands linger just a little longer than necessary.
"There," he said, sitting back down. "How's that?"
Chloe tried to stem the blush that she could feel creeping up her neck and cheeks.
"Much better. Thanks."
Jack was about to respond when one of the back doors to the van suddenly opened. They both turned in surprise, but instead of a face, they instead saw a small canister being tossed inside. As it hit the ground, they heard the door close again. A small hissing sound reached Jack's ears, and he turned to see some kind of gas spilling out of the canister and filling the cabin. Something finally clicked in his head, and he realized that things had just gone terribly wrong. Fear rising in his chest, he looked around frantically, trying to find some means of escape. He hurled himself at the doors, but they were blocked from the outside. He knew that the windows of the van were bullet proof in case they were made while on a stakeout, but now they too were blocking them from leaving the van.
A cough behind him reminded him that Chloe was there as well. Jack turned to look at her, his heart dropping into his chest as she sank to the ground, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. His own legs shook and dropped him to the floor. His last thought before the blackness overtook him was that the arm that had thrown in the canister did not belong to any of the German men they had been watching the house for.
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"Calleigh."
"Hey, Horatio," she greeted him, stopping in the hall. "What can I do for you?"
He put his hands on his hip. "We just received word that a large shipment of cocaine will be coming in today."
"Do we know where?"
"No, but I find it interesting that they would choose today to bring it in."
"What's so important about today?"
"Today is the beginning of the trial against Benito Matoban."
"The drug lord?"
"Yes. He also goes by the name Cold K…his own personal joke on how many cold cases he's associated with."
"So you think they're related? His trial and this shipment?"
"Yes, I do." He paused, looking down at the ground. "What are you doing right now? Are you in the middle of a case?"
"No, actually. I just handed my evidence over to the D.A. on the Morris case. You need me to do something?"
"Yes. I want you to take either Eric or Ryan and go check out some of the harbors. See if you can find out anything about where these drugs are going to be coming in."
"Okay, will do."
"And Calleigh?" he called as she began to walk away.
"Yeah?"
"Make sure you're armed."
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"Hey, Ryan," Calleigh greeted as she walked into the break room.
"Hey, Calleigh," he said with a smile.
"You busy?"
"Actually, no."
"Good. You are now."
"Oh?"
"Horatio is sending us on a field trip."
"Where to?"
"The lovely harbors of Miami."
His smile broadened. "Sounds exciting."
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Four harbors later, they still hadn't found anything about the cocaine shipment that Horatio had gotten a tip on. But they kept going, knowing that the closer the hour of Cold K's trial came, the more likely that something would happen on the waterfront.
"That's a big boat," Ryan commented as they pulled into their fifth harbor.
"Yes it is," Calleigh agreed, setting her high-heeled boot down on the pavement as she got out of the SUV.
"Maybe they're just having a party."
"I wonder what kind of party favors they're having?" she asked, giving him a sly glance.
"We could ask."
"We could."
"Shall we?"
"Let's."
Hands resting on their weapons, the pair moved forward, letting their eyes inspect the boat as they got closer. It was quite large, almost like something out of a rap music video. But it seemed to be empty - there were no people on the deck, and no noise aside from the lap of the water against the hull.
"Excuse me," Calleigh called, raising her voice. "Miami-Dade PD. Can we talk to you for a minute?"
There was no response. Worry started gnawing at Calleigh's stomach. The silence was unsettling, and she was getting the feeling that they were walking into a trap. Stopping, she put a hand on Ryan's elbow, forcing him to stop as well.
"Hello?" she called again. "Miami-Dade PD. We need to speak with whoever's on board right now!"
A sudden movement on the right side of the deck caused her and Ryan to pull their weapons, holding them steadily in front of them.
"Miami-Dade PD!" Ryan yelled. "Come out slowly and identify yourselves!"
Two figures came stumbling into view. Calleigh's eyes widened as she realized that their hands were bound behind their back, and their mouths were gagged. The man was bleeding from a cut on his head, as though he had put up more of a fight than they had expected. The woman had dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail. There was fear in her eyes, but a determination and anger that said she didn't plan on tolerating her captors for long.
Three men came out of the shadows then, their own guns trained on the back of their hostages' heads.
"Welcome, Miami-Dade PD!" one of the men yelled dramatically. "We've been waiting for you!"
"Well here we are," Ryan answered tightly. "What exactly did you want?"
"To propose a trade, of course!"
"A trade?"
"Yes. I'd like to introduce you to two friends from Los Angeles. This is CTU's head analyst, Miss Chloe O'Brien. And her knight in shining armor, Agent Jack Bauer!"
"Shit," Calleigh whispered. "Federal agents."
"This just got a whole lot messier," Ryan mumbled. Then he raised his voice. "What exactly do you want to trade?"
"Why, these fine federal agents, of course!"
"Cut the crap," Calleigh yelled. "Who do you want in return?"
"Benito Matoban. Cold K."
"What makes you think we can get him for you?" Ryan asked. "He's slated for trial today."
"Exactly! If you want these two agents to live, then that trial will not take place. You will bring Cold here." He cocked his gun and pressed it against Chloe's temple. "You have two hours."
Fandom: 24
Pairing: Jack/Chloe
Rating: R for violence
Prompt: Cold
Table: One
"This sucks," Chloe muttered as she sat hunched over her laptop.
Jack glanced over at her. "It's not that bad."
She shot him a glare. "No, Jack, it really is. Remind me again why I had to come?"
He sighed. "Because we need surveillance on this house. We think a terrorist cell is being run out of it."
"I know all that," she snapped. "That still doesn't explain why I need to be here."
Jack watched her for a minute, frowning. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I really didn't think it would bother you that much."
Chloe closed her eyes and sighed. "It's not you, Jack," she said. "It's just…I get nervous whenever I have to go out into the field. And I'm cold. And both of those things make me very cranky."
He gave her a small smile. "Well, I can't do anything about being out in the field, but I think I can help with the cold."
Standing up as tall as he could in the van, he took his jacket off and placed it gently on her shoulders, letting his hands linger just a little longer than necessary.
"There," he said, sitting back down. "How's that?"
Chloe tried to stem the blush that she could feel creeping up her neck and cheeks.
"Much better. Thanks."
Jack was about to respond when one of the back doors to the van suddenly opened. They both turned in surprise, but instead of a face, they instead saw a small canister being tossed inside. As it hit the ground, they heard the door close again. A small hissing sound reached Jack's ears, and he turned to see some kind of gas spilling out of the canister and filling the cabin. Something finally clicked in his head, and he realized that things had just gone terribly wrong. Fear rising in his chest, he looked around frantically, trying to find some means of escape. He hurled himself at the doors, but they were blocked from the outside. He knew that the windows of the van were bullet proof in case they were made while on a stakeout, but now they too were blocking them from leaving the van.
A cough behind him reminded him that Chloe was there as well. Jack turned to look at her, his heart dropping into his chest as she sank to the ground, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. His own legs shook and dropped him to the floor. His last thought before the blackness overtook him was that the arm that had thrown in the canister did not belong to any of the German men they had been watching the house for.
888888888888888888888888
"Calleigh."
"Hey, Horatio," she greeted him, stopping in the hall. "What can I do for you?"
He put his hands on his hip. "We just received word that a large shipment of cocaine will be coming in today."
"Do we know where?"
"No, but I find it interesting that they would choose today to bring it in."
"What's so important about today?"
"Today is the beginning of the trial against Benito Matoban."
"The drug lord?"
"Yes. He also goes by the name Cold K…his own personal joke on how many cold cases he's associated with."
"So you think they're related? His trial and this shipment?"
"Yes, I do." He paused, looking down at the ground. "What are you doing right now? Are you in the middle of a case?"
"No, actually. I just handed my evidence over to the D.A. on the Morris case. You need me to do something?"
"Yes. I want you to take either Eric or Ryan and go check out some of the harbors. See if you can find out anything about where these drugs are going to be coming in."
"Okay, will do."
"And Calleigh?" he called as she began to walk away.
"Yeah?"
"Make sure you're armed."
8888888888888888888888888888
"Hey, Ryan," Calleigh greeted as she walked into the break room.
"Hey, Calleigh," he said with a smile.
"You busy?"
"Actually, no."
"Good. You are now."
"Oh?"
"Horatio is sending us on a field trip."
"Where to?"
"The lovely harbors of Miami."
His smile broadened. "Sounds exciting."
88888888888888888888888888888
Four harbors later, they still hadn't found anything about the cocaine shipment that Horatio had gotten a tip on. But they kept going, knowing that the closer the hour of Cold K's trial came, the more likely that something would happen on the waterfront.
"That's a big boat," Ryan commented as they pulled into their fifth harbor.
"Yes it is," Calleigh agreed, setting her high-heeled boot down on the pavement as she got out of the SUV.
"Maybe they're just having a party."
"I wonder what kind of party favors they're having?" she asked, giving him a sly glance.
"We could ask."
"We could."
"Shall we?"
"Let's."
Hands resting on their weapons, the pair moved forward, letting their eyes inspect the boat as they got closer. It was quite large, almost like something out of a rap music video. But it seemed to be empty - there were no people on the deck, and no noise aside from the lap of the water against the hull.
"Excuse me," Calleigh called, raising her voice. "Miami-Dade PD. Can we talk to you for a minute?"
There was no response. Worry started gnawing at Calleigh's stomach. The silence was unsettling, and she was getting the feeling that they were walking into a trap. Stopping, she put a hand on Ryan's elbow, forcing him to stop as well.
"Hello?" she called again. "Miami-Dade PD. We need to speak with whoever's on board right now!"
A sudden movement on the right side of the deck caused her and Ryan to pull their weapons, holding them steadily in front of them.
"Miami-Dade PD!" Ryan yelled. "Come out slowly and identify yourselves!"
Two figures came stumbling into view. Calleigh's eyes widened as she realized that their hands were bound behind their back, and their mouths were gagged. The man was bleeding from a cut on his head, as though he had put up more of a fight than they had expected. The woman had dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail. There was fear in her eyes, but a determination and anger that said she didn't plan on tolerating her captors for long.
Three men came out of the shadows then, their own guns trained on the back of their hostages' heads.
"Welcome, Miami-Dade PD!" one of the men yelled dramatically. "We've been waiting for you!"
"Well here we are," Ryan answered tightly. "What exactly did you want?"
"To propose a trade, of course!"
"A trade?"
"Yes. I'd like to introduce you to two friends from Los Angeles. This is CTU's head analyst, Miss Chloe O'Brien. And her knight in shining armor, Agent Jack Bauer!"
"Shit," Calleigh whispered. "Federal agents."
"This just got a whole lot messier," Ryan mumbled. Then he raised his voice. "What exactly do you want to trade?"
"Why, these fine federal agents, of course!"
"Cut the crap," Calleigh yelled. "Who do you want in return?"
"Benito Matoban. Cold K."
"What makes you think we can get him for you?" Ryan asked. "He's slated for trial today."
"Exactly! If you want these two agents to live, then that trial will not take place. You will bring Cold here." He cocked his gun and pressed it against Chloe's temple. "You have two hours."