The Following Takes Place Between 4AM and 5AM on the Day of Operation Nightfall 04:02 — (19:02)
At an address downtown, a Russian man was on the phone, disturbed at what he was being told. “What do you mean?….are you sure?….okay, I can clear the place out in ten minutes”. The Russian man looked around the apartment, panic stricken, who could be investigating them?, and how on earth would he clear this place in ten minutes?.
04:04 — (19:04)
At the LA crime lab, a senior CSI inspected the dead body of the suicidal Russian man. He looked at his watch, realizing just how tired he was from his long shift which would have been over all ready if the next shift hadn’t called in sick. He was tired, but he knew the sooner he processed this guy, the sooner he could go home. Cause of death was easy; the guys on site had figured that out. But an ID was harder His figure prints weren’t on any database they had access to. He would have to run them against the international databases, for that he would need a favour.
04:09 — (19:09)
On there way to the first address on the list, Walsh and Mason were talking, as Mason looked out at the sun setting in the far distance. “That always surprises me”, commented George.
“What surprises you?”, asked Richard.
“How quickly the sun sets and rises in LA, I mean one minute it’s bright Californian sunshine, the next it’s pitch black.”
“I guess it’s just one of those things.”
Onboard the Delta transport, Jack was making final preparations for the jump while shouting out orders to members of the team. “Check and double check your chutes and prepare to jump.” When the green light came on, the members of the delta team jumped out the transport free falling until the last minute when they released there chutes, following the same routine as the late Roger Voss had a little more than four hours previously.
04:15 — (19:15)
It had taken a good fifteen minutes to convince his contact at the FBI to let him have access to there international database, and another five to run the finger prints. He was half asleep when he heard two loud bleeps from his computer drawing his attention to the match the database had found. “Sergei Redbrov”, the CSI whispered to himself, reading the name at the top of his computer screen. “Of Russian origin….petty criminal….illegal immigrant, deported last year back to Russia, was though to still be in Russia, huh, obviously not.”
04:19 — (19:19)
Outside a dark and murky apartment, Walsh and Mason pulled up, this was the next stop on what Chappelle had called a wild goose chase and Mason was beginning to agree with him, he didn’t have a clue where or what they expected to find or uncover, or for that point why they should even bother. “What are you hoping to find here Richard?”
“I expect to find some answers to why the delta disc was stolen and e-mailed to a stupid website called Sylvia Imports”.
“So in short, you don’t have a clue what you hope to find”, George’s reply perfectly summed up what Richard couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge. Richard, not wanting to say anything else until he had some more answers, moved toward the front door of the dirt ridden apartment which would not have looked out of place in the god forsaken apartment block which had been the first stop of there goose chase. With a shift kick, Richard knocked the door if it’s hinges, learning his lesson that the chain would most probably be on, and it was, but this time it didn’t matter for a number of reasons. Firstly the power of Richard’s kick was so that the chain would have snapped like a cheap elastic band, and secondly the apartment was completely empty, of both people and furniture. “You sure we got the right apartment?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“What’s that mean?”, came Mason’s response, hoping to illicit more than a cryptic three word answer.
“I mean, this place is hugely over crowded, there’s no good reason for this apartment to be empty”
“Richard, you’re not making any sense, it is empty”
“You’re not listening to me; this apartment is rented by someone which means it was recently cleared out.” Mason thought it knew what Walsh meant, but he wasn’t sure what this told them.
“So, what do we do now?, check the other addresses to find that there also completely empty and dead ends, because as much fun as that sounds, I really should be getting home to my dinner.”
“Yes, and as much I’m concerned about you being properly feed, I think that can wait.”
“I was afraid you’d say that, and by the time we get round all three addresses”
“We’ll have to split up.”
“Were at the compound, Sir”, said Drazen’s driver, quietly, unsure of the right level at which to say the words which where more a method of waking up the sleeping Drazen than actually informing him of the fact that they had arrived at Drazen’s secondary compound.
“What?” was Drazen’s ungrateful reply, after awaking suddenly.
“Were at the compound, Sir”, the Driver repeated, louder. Second time round Drazen understood what his driver was trying to tell him. He looked around at his surroundings, suddenly concerned when he did not see Yelena sitting in the seat next to him. “She’s inside, Sir”, the driver seeing Drazen’s concern.
From a distance, Johnson looked on, hidden from sight behind the dense forest which surrounded Drazen’s secondary residence. He didn’t know what to make off this new development, who was this woman, who was seemingly doing all his work for him, only a lot more pain free.
04:40 — (19:40)
Townsend was going out of his mind with Boredom. He’d been in hospital for what seemed like days; although he was told it was only three or four hours. The conditions at the hospital where terrible, the food was so bad it was probably against human rights, and with no cable TV he was reduced to watching ten year old repeats of cheers. He was indeed bored, and so he was rather startled when the phone next to him rang. Hoping for some intelligent conversation he eagerly picked it up. “Yes?”
“Johnny its Richard”
“Oh, thank god, Richard, I’m bored silly here”, Townsend was being one hundred percent honest for once.
“Sorry about that, you feeling better?”
“Yeah, but they want to keep me in for observation, so what you calling me for?”, Johnny tried to stir the conversation to something he was interested in.
“I need your help”
“The last time you said that I ended up in here”
“I know, but I really need your help.”
04:47 — (19:47)
LA Crime lab, the CSI who had worked up the ID was preparing to go home, the next shift would be in soon, and there was no more work to be done for today. As he walked round the lab collecting his things, there was a knock at the service entrance door. “Just a minute” said the CSI, when a second knock, insisting that the door be opened now. Putting the personal items that he had collected on a clear surface and moving towards the door. The instant he opened the door, he knew it was a mistake, a man who the CSI knew shouldn’t be using the service entrance burst forward, a hand gun pointed threateningly towards the CSI, who backed-up. “Wha…, what do you want?” The man didn’t have time to answer questions, as the CSI quickly found out, taking two bullets in the head, dropping the CSI to the floor. The man looked quickly around the Lab, moving towards the computer in the corner. Within seconds the man brought up the ID of the dead Russian man. He tapped “delete” on the keyboard and the information disappeared from the screen. He turned off the computer and fished out a mobile phone from his pocket and punched in a number and put it too his ear.
“You don’t need to know who I am, all you need to know is that I’m a US government agent and I can help with some of the shall we say ‘government interference’ you’ve been having………yes, I thought you might be interested, I suggest we meet, Griffith Park observatory, ninety minutes, come alone.” With that he ended the phone call, put the phone back in his pocket along with the CSI’s personal items which where sitting on a nearby counter. He slung the dead body that lay on the floor over his shoulder and walked out the same door, shutting it behind him.
04:59 — (19:59)
LA County Hospital, Doctor Alford was making his final rounds before he ended his shift. He entered the door to see his last patient up and about when he should have been in bed. “Mr. Townsend! You need to rest, to make sure the surgery has totally successful.”
“Well, you know Doc, I feel fine, and so I’m checking out a little early.” Said Johnny as he finished buttoning up his shirt.
“You can’t just discharge yourself, three hours after having a life saving operation.”
“Course I can, I see it all the time on TV”. With that Johnny walked out the door, totally ignoring his Doctors pleas.