OOM: Last Day in Valencia
July 15, 2012
4:02 PM
"Aw, Coco, were you guarding my food for me?" The small chihuahua glanced backward at Caiti as she stepped out onto the balcony but her attention soon returned to the plate of food on the table.
It was a beautiful, if muggy, Sunday afternoon in Valencia. Caiti was bored of doing nothing but watching tv and waiting for Chris to come home, so today she went to the store. There was nothing in the fridge to eat, much less cook with, so she brought enough to have lunch for herself, Chris and Jack could have the leftovers. The small amount of ingredients she bought made a lot of food.
Seated in front of the small table, she cut up one piece of cooked chicken into small slices and dropped them on the floor. Coco grabbed one slice, the most she could fit in her small mouth, and ate. Knowing that would keep the dog occupied for a bit, Caiti picked up her fork to enjoy the rest of her meal.
"That's not fair! Tomás, that's not fair!"
The balcony was pretty roomy, large enough to fit the two lawn chairs, a small table, a small grill and a few flower pots. It overlooked the condo pool where she thought they were having a birthday party.
"I caught you, it's your turn to be it!"
But the more Caiti thought about it, the less that made sense. There weren't that many kids down in the pool now. Judging from their similar looks, all had dark hair and round faces, they were probably family -- siblings and cousins. No gifts or cakes either, just a few adults around the pool talking. One of them looked like Chris' chatty neighbor, Mrs. Cruz.
Stabbing the last piece of grilled onion, she popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. She wasn't even sure why she thought it was a birthday party, except for the streamers she saw on a house next door and that didn't make sense either. The streamers lining the banisters and circling the shrubs had been pink and baby blue, which were more baby colors than ones you'd use for a kid's birthday party. It didn't even make sense for the kids to be over here in the pool, unless they had friends who lived in the condo.
"Marco!" "Polo!" "Polo!" "Marco!"
Plus, she was pretty sure the people who lived in the pastel streamer house were an older couple. The few times she went by the house this week, she'd only seen a gray-haired gentleman out on the porch and occasionally, she'd catch a glimpse of an older woman that Caiti assumed was his wife. Maybe they just become grandparents or would be soon.
The doorbell, loud and clear over the chatter from the pool and her own radio, interrupted her thoughts. Wiping her hands on the napkins, she got up to answer it and could only sigh as she heard the sound Coco jumping on the chair to lick at the plate.
She yelled at the dog but didn't break her stride towards the door. Opening the door, but leaving the chain in, Caiti peered out the door and the first thing she saw was the CTU badge.
"Caitlin Chappelle?" asked the man holding the badge. He was older, white hair and was dressed exactly like the dozen other FBI, Secret Service and other government agents who'd wanted to talk to her about Palmer's assassination the past few days.
"Yes? Who are you?" She didn't need to ask what this was about, she knew.
"Christopher Henderson, I'm with CTU. May I come in?"
She nodded, closing the door briefly just so she could unchain the lock and let him in. As soon as she did, Coco ran into the room to see the new person.
"Do you want to sit down? Are you thirsty?" It's not that she particularly wanted to go through the details but by now, Caiti was so used to it that she could go on automatic.
There was a brief flicker of something akin to amusement, gone so fast that she wondered if she was imagining things. He shook his head, his tone sober. "No, thank you. We won't be staying long.
Before she could ask, he continued talking. "Ms. Chappelle, I need to take you to a safe house. This is just a precaution right now but there's been some new information about David Palmer's assassination and we still have a few questions to ask you."
"Am I danger?" Is the only thing she can think of to ask and as soon as she does, she realizes what a dumb question it is. Why else would they take her to a safe house otherwise? "Why would someone go after me?"
He sighs, not terribly happy with all the questions Caiti guesses. "Did your sister tell you about what happened to her on July 10th?"
"Um ... yeah, sort of. Is she okay?"
"Yes, she's fine," and before Caiti could ask, "she's still at CTU but when they're done asking her questions, she'll be joining you at the safe house."
Silent for a moment, Caiti wasn't sure how to process all this information. "Do I need to pack? How long will I be staying?"
"No, we don't have time for that. An agent will come by later to get your clothes. You might be there for a few days."
She didn't really like the idea of some agent rifling through her stuff but she doubted she had that much say in the matter.
"What about my dog? Can I bring her with? She's really small."
The answer was an unsurprising, "No." Then, "Ms. Chappelle, we really have to be leaving."
"All right, just let me grab my purse." She moved over to the counter where it was and grabbed it. This whole thing was all so strange.
Not asking if she could, she pulled a bag of dog food out of the cabinet and filled Coco's dish. With the way she ate, it could feed her for a month.
That done, she unplugged the phone from its charger and walked over to where he was standing.
"Ready?"
"Can I call my sister?"
"No," he said tersely and realizing how harsh that might sound, Henderson amended, "Your sister is still being questioned about what happened to her on the 10th, when they're done talking to her, I'll know and you can talk to her then."
"All right then." She couldn't think of anything else to ask. Following him out, Caiti glanced back at the apartment over her shoulder, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be before she closed the door. Nothing was out of place.
Still, there was this strange, nagging feeling that she was forgetting something.
4:02 PM
"Aw, Coco, were you guarding my food for me?" The small chihuahua glanced backward at Caiti as she stepped out onto the balcony but her attention soon returned to the plate of food on the table.
It was a beautiful, if muggy, Sunday afternoon in Valencia. Caiti was bored of doing nothing but watching tv and waiting for Chris to come home, so today she went to the store. There was nothing in the fridge to eat, much less cook with, so she brought enough to have lunch for herself, Chris and Jack could have the leftovers. The small amount of ingredients she bought made a lot of food.
Seated in front of the small table, she cut up one piece of cooked chicken into small slices and dropped them on the floor. Coco grabbed one slice, the most she could fit in her small mouth, and ate. Knowing that would keep the dog occupied for a bit, Caiti picked up her fork to enjoy the rest of her meal.
"That's not fair! Tomás, that's not fair!"
The balcony was pretty roomy, large enough to fit the two lawn chairs, a small table, a small grill and a few flower pots. It overlooked the condo pool where she thought they were having a birthday party.
"I caught you, it's your turn to be it!"
But the more Caiti thought about it, the less that made sense. There weren't that many kids down in the pool now. Judging from their similar looks, all had dark hair and round faces, they were probably family -- siblings and cousins. No gifts or cakes either, just a few adults around the pool talking. One of them looked like Chris' chatty neighbor, Mrs. Cruz.
Stabbing the last piece of grilled onion, she popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. She wasn't even sure why she thought it was a birthday party, except for the streamers she saw on a house next door and that didn't make sense either. The streamers lining the banisters and circling the shrubs had been pink and baby blue, which were more baby colors than ones you'd use for a kid's birthday party. It didn't even make sense for the kids to be over here in the pool, unless they had friends who lived in the condo.
"Marco!" "Polo!" "Polo!" "Marco!"
Plus, she was pretty sure the people who lived in the pastel streamer house were an older couple. The few times she went by the house this week, she'd only seen a gray-haired gentleman out on the porch and occasionally, she'd catch a glimpse of an older woman that Caiti assumed was his wife. Maybe they just become grandparents or would be soon.
The doorbell, loud and clear over the chatter from the pool and her own radio, interrupted her thoughts. Wiping her hands on the napkins, she got up to answer it and could only sigh as she heard the sound Coco jumping on the chair to lick at the plate.
She yelled at the dog but didn't break her stride towards the door. Opening the door, but leaving the chain in, Caiti peered out the door and the first thing she saw was the CTU badge.
"Caitlin Chappelle?" asked the man holding the badge. He was older, white hair and was dressed exactly like the dozen other FBI, Secret Service and other government agents who'd wanted to talk to her about Palmer's assassination the past few days.
"Yes? Who are you?" She didn't need to ask what this was about, she knew.
"Christopher Henderson, I'm with CTU. May I come in?"
She nodded, closing the door briefly just so she could unchain the lock and let him in. As soon as she did, Coco ran into the room to see the new person.
"Do you want to sit down? Are you thirsty?" It's not that she particularly wanted to go through the details but by now, Caiti was so used to it that she could go on automatic.
There was a brief flicker of something akin to amusement, gone so fast that she wondered if she was imagining things. He shook his head, his tone sober. "No, thank you. We won't be staying long.
Before she could ask, he continued talking. "Ms. Chappelle, I need to take you to a safe house. This is just a precaution right now but there's been some new information about David Palmer's assassination and we still have a few questions to ask you."
"Am I danger?" Is the only thing she can think of to ask and as soon as she does, she realizes what a dumb question it is. Why else would they take her to a safe house otherwise? "Why would someone go after me?"
He sighs, not terribly happy with all the questions Caiti guesses. "Did your sister tell you about what happened to her on July 10th?"
"Um ... yeah, sort of. Is she okay?"
"Yes, she's fine," and before Caiti could ask, "she's still at CTU but when they're done asking her questions, she'll be joining you at the safe house."
Silent for a moment, Caiti wasn't sure how to process all this information. "Do I need to pack? How long will I be staying?"
"No, we don't have time for that. An agent will come by later to get your clothes. You might be there for a few days."
She didn't really like the idea of some agent rifling through her stuff but she doubted she had that much say in the matter.
"What about my dog? Can I bring her with? She's really small."
The answer was an unsurprising, "No." Then, "Ms. Chappelle, we really have to be leaving."
"All right, just let me grab my purse." She moved over to the counter where it was and grabbed it. This whole thing was all so strange.
Not asking if she could, she pulled a bag of dog food out of the cabinet and filled Coco's dish. With the way she ate, it could feed her for a month.
That done, she unplugged the phone from its charger and walked over to where he was standing.
"Ready?"
"Can I call my sister?"
"No," he said tersely and realizing how harsh that might sound, Henderson amended, "Your sister is still being questioned about what happened to her on the 10th, when they're done talking to her, I'll know and you can talk to her then."
"All right then." She couldn't think of anything else to ask. Following him out, Caiti glanced back at the apartment over her shoulder, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be before she closed the door. Nothing was out of place.
Still, there was this strange, nagging feeling that she was forgetting something.