away.” He remembered the moment as if it were yesterday. It was a few years after he had been invalided out of the Counter Terrorist Unit, and things had not gone well for him. He was in debt, adrift in his own life. Although Chase had tried hard to find something new to challenge him, working for a private security concern, nothing he did seemed to matter as much as CTU had. Without Kim in his life, he just couldn’t find a focus, and as Angela grew up it became harder and harder for him to connect with the young girl.
And then a group of terrorists had detonated a low-yield nuclear suitcase bomb in a Santa Clarita warehouse, just miles from where he lived. The blast wiped Valencia off the map and murdered over twelve thousand people in an instant. The effect of that brutality was still being felt today, with a section of Los Angeles County walled off to contain the blast zone, a legacy of human tragedies and an ongoing effort to decontaminate the area that would continue for decades.
On the day it happened, Chase had been drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the far side of LA, and something inside him snapped . With perfect clarity, he saw the road ahead of him and he knew it would lead nowhere. He decided to let the world believe that Chase Edmunds had died in the Valencia bombing and begin again. Angela would get his insurance payout and with it a chance at a far better life than any he could have given her.
“You faked your own death,” said Jack, guessing at the train of his thoughts. “You used the bombing to slip away and make a fresh start. You did well enough to fool most people.”
“But not Chloe, huh?” Chase looked down at his hands. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He glanced back at his former partner. “It’s not easy, is it, Jack? To let everyone who cares about you believe you’re gone.”
“No,” Jack said quietly, and Chase felt a pang of sorrow for the other man. “Now we both understand the price of that choice.”
“I guess so. Didn’t exactly work out for me the way I planned it, though. Four years down the line and I’m worse off than I ever was.” He smiled regretfully. “Then you fall out of the sky and I come running. What the hell does that say about me?”
“It tells me you haven’t changed that much. It tells me you’re still loyal to your friends.” Jack met his gaze. “And right now, I’m pretty short on those.”
“What happened in New York?” Chase asked, and Jack told him.
He talked about the plot to kill the leader of the Islamic Republic of Kamistan, of the bomb threat against Manhattan and finally of the conspiracy he had dragged into the light. There was more, though, Chase could sense it—and when he pressed Jack to explain he saw the other man’s eyes go cold and distant.
“They killed someone that I cared about. And now I have a target on my back. The FBI, Russian intelligence … It’s even money on which of them catches up to me first.” He sighed. “I just want one thing, then I’m gone. I want to see my family one last time.”
Chase said nothing, and in his mind’s eye he saw Angela again. He tried not to think about her too much these days, but when he did the remorse was like razors on his skin. He could very easily understand the raw, human impulse behind his former partner’s motive. He nodded. “So you need my help to get to Los Angeles in one piece.”
“I can pay you. I have a covert account that no one knows about, not even CTU.”
“Parachute money, huh?” Chase shook his head. “No need. You were right when you said you had a marker with me. You saved my life enough times. I owe you.”
“Thanks.”
He stood up and Jack followed suit. “I know a guy,” Chase continued. “Guess you could call him a specialist, kinda. He does contract work for my former employer.”
“Former?”
Chase shrugged. “I’ll explain on the way.”
* * *
But as it turned out, taking their leave
And then a group of terrorists had detonated a low-yield nuclear suitcase bomb in a Santa Clarita warehouse, just miles from where he lived. The blast wiped Valencia off the map and murdered over twelve thousand people in an instant. The effect of that brutality was still being felt today, with a section of Los Angeles County walled off to contain the blast zone, a legacy of human tragedies and an ongoing effort to decontaminate the area that would continue for decades.
On the day it happened, Chase had been drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the far side of LA, and something inside him snapped . With perfect clarity, he saw the road ahead of him and he knew it would lead nowhere. He decided to let the world believe that Chase Edmunds had died in the Valencia bombing and begin again. Angela would get his insurance payout and with it a chance at a far better life than any he could have given her.
“You faked your own death,” said Jack, guessing at the train of his thoughts. “You used the bombing to slip away and make a fresh start. You did well enough to fool most people.”
“But not Chloe, huh?” Chase looked down at his hands. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He glanced back at his former partner. “It’s not easy, is it, Jack? To let everyone who cares about you believe you’re gone.”
“No,” Jack said quietly, and Chase felt a pang of sorrow for the other man. “Now we both understand the price of that choice.”
“I guess so. Didn’t exactly work out for me the way I planned it, though. Four years down the line and I’m worse off than I ever was.” He smiled regretfully. “Then you fall out of the sky and I come running. What the hell does that say about me?”
“It tells me you haven’t changed that much. It tells me you’re still loyal to your friends.” Jack met his gaze. “And right now, I’m pretty short on those.”
“What happened in New York?” Chase asked, and Jack told him.
He talked about the plot to kill the leader of the Islamic Republic of Kamistan, of the bomb threat against Manhattan and finally of the conspiracy he had dragged into the light. There was more, though, Chase could sense it—and when he pressed Jack to explain he saw the other man’s eyes go cold and distant.
“They killed someone that I cared about. And now I have a target on my back. The FBI, Russian intelligence … It’s even money on which of them catches up to me first.” He sighed. “I just want one thing, then I’m gone. I want to see my family one last time.”
Chase said nothing, and in his mind’s eye he saw Angela again. He tried not to think about her too much these days, but when he did the remorse was like razors on his skin. He could very easily understand the raw, human impulse behind his former partner’s motive. He nodded. “So you need my help to get to Los Angeles in one piece.”
“I can pay you. I have a covert account that no one knows about, not even CTU.”
“Parachute money, huh?” Chase shook his head. “No need. You were right when you said you had a marker with me. You saved my life enough times. I owe you.”
“Thanks.”
He stood up and Jack followed suit. “I know a guy,” Chase continued. “Guess you could call him a specialist, kinda. He does contract work for my former employer.”
“Former?”
Chase shrugged. “I’ll explain on the way.”
* * *
But as it turned out, taking their leave
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