Don't Bring Knives to a Gun Fight (Unless They Were Forged in Hell)

“Sorry Jack, all the field-ops teams are focused on finding Roland, I don’t think your lead is worth it right now.” Tony sighed at Jack’s request for back-up. Normally he’d support his insights with no hesitation, but after so many agents were killed in the bombing, CTU was spread pretty thin, and Jack’s accomplice theory wasn’t a priority.

“Damn it, fine. I’ll go in alone.” He grumbled.

“Wait! You said you were headed to Pasadena, right?”

“Yeah, to an apartment building there, why?”

“Check with LAPD radio, I think they were called there about forty minutes ago.”

“Copy that.” Jack gruntled as he hung up the phone to pick up the radio in his car.

…

“I’m sorry Agent Bauer, all of our officers are occupied with this hit and run. We do have a bounty hunter near where you’re headed though, I’ll tell her to meet you at the corner of Ramona and Garfield, not far away from the station.” The cop said.

“Bounty hunter? I don’t need someone inexperienced with interrogation to get in the way of this.” Jack sounded hesitant.

“Her name is Mazikeen Smith, she’s a little unorthodox, but nothing gets past her. Trust me, if your lead tries to make a run for it, she’ll be on him in the blink of an eye.”

“Alright then.” He groaned, hanging up the phone.

—

“What do you mean wait around? I’m done for today, you wanted me to find those two goons and bring them to the station, so I did.”

“Miss Smith, we have a CTU agent who needs backup, and you’re the only one available in his vicinity. CTU outranks us, you don’t have a choice.” The officer said, trying to calm his erratic coworker down.

“CTU? The Hell is that?” Maze asked, confused.

“Counter-Terrorist Unit. Now go meet Agent Bauer at Ramona and Garfield.” He ordered.

—

Jack slowed his car as he approached the intersection, scanning for some kind of police vehicle. But at 10:46am on a Tuesday, there was no one in sight. Carparks and roads were reasonably quiet, after all, most people were at work or school. About to pick up his radio, he did a double-take when he saw a woman sitting at the literal corner of Ramona and Garfield. If a car hit the kerb making sharp turn, she’d be bowled over. But she didn’t seem to mind. The woman was slim with caramel skin and shoulder-length dark hair. Her outfit certainly didn’t scream civil servant. She was wearing a sheer, lace tank top with leather jeans and thigh-high boots, resting her chin in her hands like a five-year old. Except five-year olds didn’t take swigs from a not-at-all conspicuous, reflective silver flask.

Surely this can’t be her? Jack thought. But there’s nobody else here. Maybe she’s dressed like that because she went undercover? I guess the cop did say she was a little unorthodox. Jack knew the only way to answer those questions was to approach her. Parking his car in a small lot, he walked towards the woman.

“Are you Mazikeen Smith?”

“Yeah. Are you the guy stopping me from going home?” She responded bitterly.

“I”m Federal Agent Jack Bauer, somebody from LAPD told me to meet you here so I could have some back-up.” He gazed down at her.

“Whatever. Let’s go. This better be quick Bauer.” Maze stood and strolled towards the car, staring daggers at him.

Jack was confused, but he knew he was running out of time, so he simply rolled his eyes and followed the strange woman.

…

“I don’t have time to give you a full debrief, but basically, we have reason to believe this man Victor Flynn is connected to a terrorist we’re tracking. Because the rest of the agency is focused on finding the terrorist, I’m the only one who’s looking into this guy. We’re going to his apartment, just a few blocks away. There’s a very large potential he’s armed, possibly with bodyguards.” He explained, keeping his eyes on the road. She didn’t seem very interested in the information.

“So you want me to cover you in case they attack at the door?” Maze raised an eyebrow.

“That’s the idea. By the way, what kind of weapons training do you have? I’ve got a few different guns here, take whatever you’re comfortable with.” Jack gestured towards the boot of the SUV.

“Nah, I’ll be fine with these.” She proudly flashed and twirled her twin curved blades.

Jack’s internal alarm bells were ringing, as he gawked at the strange weapons in her hand. He laughed nervously, “Uh…have you never heard the phrase ‘don’t bring a knife to a gun fight’?”

Maze rolled her eyes, “Anyone who believes that just sucks at sneaking up on people.”

Stopping at a set of lights, he took a good look at the knives. In addition to their strange curled shape, ornate carvings were engraved in the handle. Jack was aware of how weapons have evolved over time, but he’d never seen anything like it.

“They don’t look like LAPD standard issue…” He mumbled.

“That’s because they were forged in Hell. Duh.” She deadpanned.

Jack was feeling less and less confident about his new partner. He only had one shot to get information from this accomplice, and if she didn’t keep her mouth shut, they’d both be goners. But if she works as a bounty hunter, then surely she has experience with this sort of thing?

They arrived at the complex. It was old, dingy, and not particularly inhabited. A perfect hiding place for terrorists. The weather was scorching, Jack felt beads of sweat at the back of his neck as he placed his jacket over his bullet-proof vest. Maze disembarked the vehicle prominently, fiddling with her knives impatiently.

“Mazikeen, it’s one thing to not take a gun, it’s another to not protect yourself from them. For my own peace of mind, please just put a vest on.” He held the chest-piece out to her.

“You can just call me Maze. And I’m telling you I’ll be fine. Plus, those vests kill my slutty vibe.” Maze dismissed him. She was a demon, with her senses and speed, bullets weren’t a problem.

Jack’s blue eyes pleaded as they stared into her brown. “Fine, since you’re so damn worried.” She frowned, trying her hardest to not feel embarrassed, swimming in the bulky garment.

The pair entered cautiously, Jack taking the lead through the dimly lit reception area. It was empty.

“We’re headed for apartment 312, just follow my lead and don’t move unless I say so.” He whispered hoarsely.

Jack had his pistol holstered, and Maze had her knives at the ready. She kept watching his back as the trailed slowly up the stairs. Aside from faint TV static and occasional soft chatter, the stairwell was dead quiet. Eventually, they reached the third floor. 312 was at the end of a winding hallway, which Jack knew meant a lot of potential blind spots they would have to check along the way. Laughter and uproar could be heard in the distance, a sure sign of trouble.

While Jack prepared to take the first corner, Maze noticed a narrow air duct in the ceiling. Despite the peeling wallpaper, creaking doors, and other substandard qualities, the building had reasonably high ceilings. A normal person wouldn’t be able to enter the vent without a ladder. But Mazikeen of the Lilim was no person. Stealthily, she leapt into the vent, making the slightest of noise as she closed the metal hatch. By the time Jack turned around to usher her around the corner, she was gone.

“Maze? Maze!” He whisper-shouted, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The other direction was a dead end, and she certainly hadn’t gone back down the stairwell. Where did she go? Little did he know, Maze was right above him, crawling silently through the ducts. He shook his head, Jack knew he had no choice but to proceed. Carefully craning his neck, he saw the first corner was clear. Keeping in a low squat, he steadily crept towards the next bend. Poking his head out, he noticed two surly men, both clutching Glocks standing at the centre of a corridor. They appeared to be talking, one’s face being obscured by the smoke of his Marlboro. Jack quickly whipped his head around, flicking the safety off his own gun. In a flash, he fired two shots to the chest, muffled by the silencer. Neither wore a vest, so they collapsed with a cry of pain.

“What was that?” Another man’s gruff voice echoed down the hall. Despite the silencer, Jack’s entrance was now known by Flynn’s other men.

Meanwhile, Maze had used the gunshots as an opportunity to sneak further up the hall. She retracted her hand instinctively when she noticed a grate on the bottom surface of the vent. A man stood right below, if he looked upwards, she’d surely be seen. But of course, that wouldn’t be a problem, because she’d be dead si-

Swoosh.

The bullet-proof vest slid with audible friction against the walls of the grate.

“Hey! I think someone’s in the vent!” He yelled to his colleagues, gazing through the bars, lit very dimly by sunlight from a nearby window.

Maze’s attempt to move further back, out of range from the man only created more noise as the vest continued to graze, catching on a protruding screw.

“There she is!” She panicked as she saw the barrel of a pistol slither between two metal stakes. A stubby finger pulled the trigger, as a flurry of gunshots were fired. But Maze only felt one light thud against the her chest, as she noticed the bald head fall out of view.

“Maze! Were you hit?!” Jack called, surrounded by five punctured bodies, a pool of blood forming around him.

“Yeah!” She jumped valiantly to the floor, landing perfectly on her two feet.

“Huh. You cleaned up well.” Maze approved of Jack’s surroundings.

Jack inspected her worriedly, darting his eyes around her body.

“Not me. The stupid vest.” She pointed to where the bullet penetrated.

“If it wasn’t for that ‘stupid vest’ you would have been killed.”

“No. If it wasn’t for that ’stupid vest’ I wouldn’t have made any noise or gotten stuck up there.” Maze threw the vest on the ground in a huff.

Jack sighed in bemusement, noticing they stood in front of apartment 310. There was no time to ask her how or why she took to the ceiling vent without telling him.

“Come on, we’re nearly there.” But as he turned around, Maze was nowhere in sight. Shaking his head, he proceeded to check the last corner. No guard. That’s odd.

Kicking open the door to 312, he noticed a man with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes sitting behind a laptop. Before he could approach him, there were three other guards to disarm that Jack could see. Taking cover behind a worn fabric sofa, he took them out. They didn’t put up much of a fight, Jack was able to take them all out without reloading, and the man behind the desk possessed no firearm. Something’s off here. He cautiously stepped out, and walked towards the desk, taking in his surroundings. He noticed bare windows, an old-fashioned wardrobe, a small, dirty kitchenette piled with dishes, and the scratched mahogany desk. The computer the man was using was easily the most expensive thing in the room.

The man behind the desk smiled, looking up from the device. Jack made a manual effort to survey the air-ducts in the room. Seeing the grate above Flynn, he smirked, realising where his back-up had gone.

“Where’s Roland?”

Silence.

Jack pointed his gun at the man’s forehead.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is Carter Roland? I know you know where he is. And that he has the other bombs.”

Flynn stared at him blankly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stood from his desk, shutting his laptop with an audible click, before walking around the desk to leave.

A metal clang sounded as the grate swung open, Maze driving her knees into his back, as Flynn’s face smacked onto the hard desk with a sickening crunch. As he attempted to stabilise himself, blood dripping from his mangled nose, Maze was already on her feet, kicking the man’s lower back and forcing him down into the chair. Flynn whipped his head around, trying to understand what was happening, but not before Maze had gripped his throat and suspended him, the curve of her blades just touching his neck.

“Got him.” She said, self-satisfied, blowing a piece of hair from her face. “Can I go home now?”

The agent looked at her bewildered. How could she possibly be that strong? She couldn’t have gotten that much momentum from being crouched up in that vent. He shook his head, there was no time to gawk now.

“Wait. I need to get information from him about Roland.” He raised a hand, as she sighed.

“Now. Tell me where Roland and the other bombs are.” The lack of fear in Flynn’s eyes, and the man’s sly smile confused Jack.

But not Maze. Maze’s heightened senses were extraordinary. She couldn’t help but do a double-take when she noticed the wardrobe door swing open, and a woman yielding a shotgun, directed at Jack, step out.

“Jack! Behind you!” With her free hand, her matching blade spun through the air, piercing the woman’s neck as she screamed shrilly. By the time Jack had turned around, the woman was on the floor, blood spurting from her artery.

He whistled as he exhaled. “Thanks.” Regaining his focus, he kept his gun pointed at Flynn’s chest.

“Like I said. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Flynn spat at the agent.

Jack knew that Tony and the field-ops teams didn’t have much of a lead on Roland, if he could get a location, a general area, anything, then CTU would have a much better chance of stopping any more bombs from being detonated.

So he knew that drastic measures would be needed. Knowing Maze had no intention of releasing Flynn, he retracted his gun, and instead moved to grasp the criminal’s right hand. With a cold stare, he snapped the man’s smallest finger by the centre. Flynn yowled in pain, but didn’t look like he wanted to talk any time soon. Jack moved his clasp to the man’s ring finger.

“What are you doing?” Maze pulled a face at him.

He couldn’t look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry if this seems excessive, but we have no choice. If Roland detonates any more of these bom-“

“No. I mean what are you doing breaking his fingers like that. If you want to make him suffer more, start closer to his palm and use your first.” She explained, as if he were a grade-school child.

Jack was flabbergasted. Is she seriously giving me instructions on how to break this guy’s fingers? Normally when other people watched Jack administer physical torture, they looked on in disgust. Terror. But Maze almost looked…enthralled?.

Maze rolled her eyes impatiently. “Come here and hold this. I’ll show you.”

Ensuring they swapped at the last second (even though it was pretty obvious the man’s silent whimpers rendered escape impossible), Jack took Maze’s place holding the curved blade. He felt a dark aura about it, like something out of a fairytale. She held the man’s slightly deformed right hand, pinching at the join between his ring finger and palm. Curling her remaining fingers around it, and sliding upwards, Jack heard three cracks, as the finger completely curved, popped out of the socket, and broke at the two other knuckles. HIs eyes widened as Flynn howled again.

“I’m going to let her finish your hand off unless you start talking.” With eager eyes, Maze gripped his middle finger, ardently awaiting further instructions, like a puppy holding a ball ready to play fetch.

“Fi-Fine! He’s headed to Cal State Station, b-but that’s all he told me!” Flynn spluttered.

Jack nodded at Maze. She busted the middle finger out of the same socket joint, and slowly trailed upwards to break the first knuckle.

“He’s going to use nerve gas as a d-diversion to plant the bomb, then he’ll detonate it remotely. Make her stop, p-please!” He pleaded.

“How many other bombs are left?” Jack shouted in his ear.

“I-I-“

“HOW MANY OTHER BOMBS ARE LEFT?”

Maze cracked the first knuckle.

“He’s got a girl, Banks, she’s going to Anaheim, around the big intersection with the freeways that’s it! There’s only three, the one at CTU, Cal State, and Anaheim. The CTU one was just a warning. The others have both got Caesium in them, combined they’ll take out most of LA. All I did was give him the schematics.” He panted, breathing heavily as Jack slowly lowered the knife. Maze dropped his hand to the table. Fishing out handcuffs, he secured the man, who rested his head against the desk. Jack retrieved his cell phone to inform CTU.

…

They stood outside in the sweltering heat, as CTU arrived to take Flynn’s laptop and arrest him.

“Hey. Thanks for letting me break that guy’s fingers, LAPD never lets me do anything that fun.” Maze strolled over to Jack.

“Well thank you for saving my ass back there. Even though I saved yours first. I’ll admit, when LAPD told me they only had a bounty hunter nearby, I was pretty apprehensive that you would slow me down. But I’m guessing this wasn’t your first time interrogating somebody.” He laughed sheepishly.

“I spent most of my life in Hell. I’m pretty used to it. Anyways, I’m done here. Hope you find the bombs in time.” She smiled, before walking away. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Hell? Maybe she just had a rough childhood.

Jack could never rationalise the woman’s agility, speed, or sheer strength, but he knew that without her, catching Flynn would have been a Hell of a lot harder.