24 Declassified: 03 - Trojan Horse by Marc Cerasini

hours’ sleep.
    “Honey?” he called, walking toward the bathroom.
    “In here,” came a muffled voice from farther down the hall.
    Jack found his wife in the bedroom, still in her pajamas. She had pretty much emptied her closet, the clothes spread out across their queen-sized bed, the chair, desk and dresser, the shoes scattered across the floor.
    “What’s going on?” Jack asked, leaning against the doorframe.
    “What’s going on is I don’t have a thing to wear.” Teri crossed the room, pecked her husband on the cheek. If she noticed his attire, she didn’t comment. Nor did she mention the lump on his head, though Jack wasn’t sure it was even visible.
    “Are you going somewhere special?”
    “I might be,” Teri replied. “Depends.”
    Jack’s eyebrows arched. “Depends on what?”
    “On whether I have something to wear tonight. Something suitable for television.”
    “ Oprah ’s taping in L.A.?”
    “Not even close.”
    Jack emptied his pockets, tossed his key, wallet, cell phone on the dresser. “Okay, I give up. What’s going on?”
    Teri draped a little black dress over herself and examined her reflection. “Do you remember when I had that freelance job with Coventry Productions?”
    Jack moved some clothing, sat down on the edge of the bed. “The animation studio? I remember. You worked with that other artist ...Natalie.”
    “Nancy.”
    “That’s right. Nancy.”
    Jack mind raced back to that time, two years before. What sprang to mind first were his CTU missions. Since coming to CTU, his missions had become the measure of Jack’s life. Two years ago, Operation Jump Rope was wrapping up and Operation Proteus was just launching. And at home—well, Jack wasn’t home enough to know, he remembered that much. Kim was entering her teens and the mother-daughter bond became a pact of mutual destruction.
    Jack recalled that Teri was working long hours then, too. With some British animator named Dennis at an office in Century City. Jack never met the man beyond hearing his voice when answering the phone, but Teri seemed impressed with him—Jack remembered that much, too.
    “So what’s up with Nancy?” he asked.
    “Well I heard she just had a baby. A little boy.”
    “You heard? From Nancy?”
    Teri tore through another pile of clothing. “Actually Dennis Winthrop called. He was Nancy’s boss. I don’t think you ever met him so you wouldn’t remember his name.”
    “No.”
    “Anyway, Demon Hunter —the animated feature Coventry Productions produced—has been nominated for a Silver Screen Award. Since I worked on the art direction, I was invited to the show tonight. It’s going to be broadcast live on television.”
    “That’s great,” said Jack. “Are you going to get a trophy if you win?”
    “Don’t be stupid.” Teri laughed. “I worked as a freelance assistant for the background artist. I’m lucky to be invited. I can’t wait to see Nancy. And Carla and Chandra, too.”
    Jack stood up, embraced his wife. “Since you might be on television, why don’t you go out and buy something brand new to wear?”
    “That’s silly, Jack. I’ve already decided on the black dress.”
    “Good,” he smiled. “You look pretty hot in that.”
    “You don’t mind, do you Jack?”
    “Of course not. Kim and I can get take out pizza.”
    “Great. But don’t get pepperoni. Kim’s a vegetarian again.”
    Jack snorted skeptically. “Since when?”
    “Since I cooked meat loaf last night.”
    “Well, we’ll have a great time trying to spot you during the broadcast.”
    Teri laughed. “Don’t blink then.”
    Jack sat back down on the bed, yanked off his chukkas, and tossed them into the corner. Teri walked to the mirror, brushed the short locks of dark hair away from her face with her long fingernails and studied her features in the glass.
    “One more thing,” Jack said, rising and heading for the bathroom and a quick shower. “lf you do win, don’t forget to thank your