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SANCTUARY 1/3

Posted in 24_fanfic

Title: Sanctuary, Chapter 1
Author: marinw
Characters: Jack/Dalia Hassan/Kayla Hassan/Dr. Kahr (OC)
Summery: Written for the 24nmore Write Your Own Day 9 Challenge. Jack finds refuge in an unexpected place.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: 24 is and was the property of Fox.
A/N: Oh Day 8, why can’t I quit you? This was written for the 24n’more Write Your Own Day 9 Challenge. Thanks to cybertoothtiger for the beta.

President Dalia Hassan couldn’t leave the United States quickly enough.

There was one more thing she had to do before she left for Kamistan. One debt to be repaid. There were so few Americans she could be grateful to.

Adjusting her shear black headscarf, she turned to her security detail.

“Find him.” She ordered. “CTU director O’Brian told me his last known location. Go from there.”

Kayla stepped forward. “Mother. Let me go with the guards. I can help. He will be more co-operative if he sees a familiar face.”

Dalia considered this. Until today she had feared that her daughter was too child-like, unable to cope with the demands of adulthood. That had changed. In the past twenty-four hours Kayla seemed to have grown ten years.

“Very well, my daughter. Bring him to the airfield. And don’t let any Americans catch you.”

Americans. They were the enemy once again.

••••

He needed to get to the shipyards.

At first Jack had considered stealing a car. But he knew he needed to leave the country, and driving across the border was out of the question. That meant he needed to stow away either on an airplane or a ship. Under normal circumstances Jack could circumnavigate airport security. Now that was impossible.

A day ago, Jack had planned to buy a ticket and fly to Los Angeles like any normal, free citizen. That possibility no longer existed.

That left the shipyards. Stow away in the cargo compartment. He could find food, water, and medical supplies there. He could survive.

This plan was thwarted by two knife wounds and two recent bullet holes. His vision was blurred and he felt dizzy. Signs of blood loss, dehydration and exhaustion. And then there was the pain, which was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

Just keep going, Jack ordered himself. Don’t feel or remember. Just keep going.

Emerging from behind a column supporting an overpass, Jack saw a black limousine driving directly in front of him.
Dammit.

This made no sense. What was a diplomatic vehicle doing in this area of town? Why not a police van?

It didn’t matter. Jack still couldn’t stay here.

He tried to run away, but he stumbled. He leaned against the wall, hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this anymore.

“Mr. Bauer.” A female voice, in accented English. It sounded familiar.

Jack looked up. Through his blurred vision he recognized Kayla Hassan. She was flanked by two large men. Members of her security detail, Jack concluded.

“Come with us, Mr. Bauer.” Kayla said.

One of the guards took Jack by the arm, but gently. Jack braced himself to be handcuffed. That didn’t happen. The guard only led Jack to the back seat of the limousine.

He must think I’m too weak to resist, Jack thought. He would have to prove the man wrong later.

“It’s all right, Mr. Bauer. My mother sent me.” Kayla explained. The car was already in motion.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Out of the country. Home.”

“You’ll never get me passed airfield security.”

Kayla reached into a black bag on the floor of the car. She pulled out a voluminous black cloak.

“We pride ourselves on being a progressive nation. Even though, some women from more conservative sects still wear these,” Kayla explained

Kayla pulled the niqab over Jack’s head. Now Jack could only see through the opening around his eyes. He fought against an emerging claustrophobia, exacerbated by the blood loss and growing oxygen starvation.

“I have the papers here. You are Aisha Karzai, the wife of one of the diplomats. When we get to the airport say nothing. The guards will not dare ask you to show your face. Not today.”

For now, Jack decided to go along with Kayla’s plan. He had few other options.

The Russians wanted him. So did the Americans. But the IRK?

••••

Kayla was right. When she showed the guard Aisha’s passport the limousine was waved through. Jack said nothing, hiding his bloody hands in the folds of the niqab. He kept his gaze lowered, knowing his blue eyes would betray his identity.

The sense of shame coming from the American guards was palpable. The failed Peace Treaty. Omar Hassan’s assassination on American soil. After such a shameful day the security at this private airport was not going to harass a conservative Muslim woman.

As long as they don’t look at my boots, Jack thought as he was led out of the car and up the stairs leading to a large private jet. Fortunately, the niqab was long enough to obscure his feet. So long, in fact, that he had to hike the damn thing up to avoid tripping over himself.

Halfway up the stairs they stopped. On the ground below them something was being loaded into the cargo hold. A gurney holding a body bag.

The body of President Omar Hassan.

Kayla pulled her scarf tighter over her dark hair. The guards lowered their heads in respect.

Kayla had lost her father today.

Omar Hassan is dead because I ran out of time.

Renee is dead because I couldn’t protect her.

If I had been a few minutes earlier all this would have been prevented.


There it was. The shame and the regret. Crushing him, trapped next to his skin beneath the veil that served as both a disguise and a barrier against his fellow citizens

After a moment, the small group completed their walk up the portable stairs and into the body of the aircraft.

Seated in one of large seats was Dalia Hassan. President Dalia Hassan.

The guard helped Jack out of the huge cloak covering him. For a moment Dalia regarded her new guest. Then she said something to Kayla in Arabic. Jack understood enough of the language to make out some of what Dalia was saying: “You have done well, my daughter.”

“Mr. Bauer,” Dalia said in English.

“I couldn’t save your husband, Ma’am. Do whatever you want with me.”

“You avenged his murder. You exposed a conspiracy. You helped prevent the signing of a disastrous treaty. We are in your debt, Mr. Bauer. I offer you sanctuary in the Islamic Republic of Kamistan.”

I wasn’t avenging your husband. I was avenging Renee.

“Madam President, you are harboring a fugitive.”

“Who the United States and Russia consider a fugitive is not my concern,” Dalia said with no small amount of venom. “In any case, you do not appear to be in any condition to escape without our help.”

Dalia nodded towards a middle-aged man who was standing nearby. The man stepped forward.

“I am Dr. Kadr. If you will come with me.”

Jack furtively looked around. He seemed to be out of options. At this moment, co-operating with President Hassan was his best option.

In the back of the cabin there was a small area separated from the main area by a curtain. A gurney was against the wall. Jack sat down on it without being told.

Dr. Kadr went to work. He produced a pair of scissors and cut off Jack’s shirt. Jack didn’t object, the shirt was by now bloody and full of holes.

The doctor’s eyes widened, “You’ve had quite a day,” he said as he pulled on a pair of thin plastic gloves.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll start you on some fluids and oxygen and go from there.”

Jack complied as Kadr strapped an oxygen mask [on him] and started an IV in Jack’s left hand. The same things the CTU paramedics had done a couple of hours earlier. Only this time he wasn’t handcuffed to the gurney. Because he was on a plane, where else would he go?

With the mask on, Jack felt a similar sense of suffocation to when he had been hidden in the niqab. He waited for the moment to pass, and then welcomed the pure oxygen into his aching lungs.

He was in no shape to overwhelm the pilot and fly the plane to the destination of his choosing. That scenario did occur to him. He abandoned the plan before it solidified in his mind. Now wasn’t the time.

As Kadr worked Jack could feel the plane taxiing on the runway. They were in the air a few moments later.

Once they had reached a stable altitude Kahr gently probed the bullet hole in Jack’s shoulder, peeling away the now bloody bandage.

“It is many hours until we land. I will have to suture this now.”

“Fine,” Jack mumbled, his breath fogging the mask.

“But first I will give you something for the pain. This works quickly. You should lie down.”

With Kadr’s help, Jack was soon n his back, his head against a pillow. Kahr pulled off Jack’s boots and covered him with a thick blanket up to his mid-torso. Jack hadn’t even noticed he was shivering.

Through the corner of his eye Jack saw Kahr prepare a syringe.

This is over, Jack thought. The oxygen and the blanket, and especially the promise of drugs were lulling him into a dark, peaceful place. A place he could escape to, if only for a few hours. A place where Renee might be waiting for him, if he believed in that sort of thing. He wasn’t sure anymore.

TO BE CONTINUED