24 Declassified: 03 - Trojan Horse Read Online Free PDF Page A

stepped out of the cluttered van.
    “Good job, Bauer. And you can pass on my thanks to Agent Blackburn and his people. Through intraagency cooperation, we shut down the largest methamphetamine laboratory on the West Coast and captured those responsible—”
    “Wait a minute,” Jack interrupted. “Did you say methamphetamine lab? This lab was supposed to be producing Karma.”
    “It appears our intelligence was faulty,” Peltz said. “My forensics people can’t find evidence this lab was used for anything more than the production of high quality crystal meth.”
    Peltz frowned. Like his smile, the mask of expression never reached the man’s eyes. “I’m really sorry, Jack.”
    Bauer was angry, but he couldn’t show it. He looked at Brian McConnell, but the man would not meet his gaze. Jack didn’t know if Angel One was suffering from disappointment or guilt—which meant that Jack didn’t know if this was just another DEA snafu, or if he and CTU were being played.
    Reflexively, Jack massaged his throbbing temple. “That’s a bad break,” he said evenly. “Where does that leave us, Peltz?”
    Peltz sighed, slapped his thigh. “Right now, we say goodbye.”
    “What?”
    “This is a pretty big bust, and my bosses in Sacramento wanted to make some hay out it.” Peltz paused. “The press is being alerted, Jack, even as we speak. The cameras will be here any minute. I’ve already ordered my men out. You’d best get your team out of here if you don’t want to see the faces of your undercover operatives on the network news.”
    Seething, Jack turned and crossed the parking lot. He found Chet Blackburn leaning against an ambulance, studying the bandage around his leg.
    “Assemble your team and get them out of here. The press is on its way.”
    Blackburn blinked. “That was fast.”
    Bauer looked at the white van. “Someone tipped them off. I’ll ride back to headquarters with you.”
    “Don’t you want to say hello to your old pal first?”
    Jack turned. Chet was grinning. Behind him a man leaned against a blue, late-model Lexus. About the same age as Jack, he wore khaki pants and a polo shirt. His arms and face were deeply tanned under light brown, thinning hair.
    “Frank! Frank Castalano.” Jack grabbed the man’s hand.
    “Good to see you, Jack.” Castalano slapped his arm and Jack winced. “In the shit again, eh?”
    “As I recall, Frank, you were never far from the stink yourself.”
    Chet sniffed the air. “I don’t smell any stink on him, Jack. He sure isn’t kicking down doors anymore. All this heat and he hasn’t even broken a sweat.”
    Jack grinned. “That’s because he’s Detective Frank Castalano of the Los Angeles Homicide Bureau now. So what are you doing here, partner?”
    Frank caught Jack’s eye. “Actually, I wish this were a social call, but it’s not.”
    “Chet, you can go ahead back to headquarters and file your report,” said Jack. “I’ll find my own way back.”
    Blackburn had caught the exchange. Now he was feeling the chill. “Okay then,” he said “It was nice seeing you, Frank. Keep in touch.”
    After Chet and the rest of his tactical assault team piled into a black CTU tactical van and drove away, Detective Castalano opened the passenger side door of his Lexus.
    “Let’s go for a ride, Jack.”
    “Am I under arrest?”
    Frank laughed, moved to slap Bauer’s arm again then checked himself. “Thirty minutes of your time, Jack. That’s all I ask. Then I’ll take you home. You still live in Santa Monica, right?”
    6:23:44 A . M .PDT Tijuana, Mexico
    They’d made it to the border crossing on Route 5 with seconds to spare. Tony eased the van through the second gate from the right, as per his briefing. The border guard recognized the car and Tony’s disguise and waved the van right through the checkpoint.
    The area around the border crossing resembled a war zone, with layers of chain link fences topped by curls of barbed wire, blades glinting in