When human beings experience a series of tragic events, and live to tell about them, oddly enough, that's the last thing they usually want to do. Most of the time, they want to put those bad times behind them, and forge ahead with a new future–- new friends, new lovers, new experiences. At least that’s what Lincoln Burrows wanted to do. It had been three years since the Fox River debacle. Three years since blowing the roof off of an international government conspiracy, three years after his name was cleared of the murder of Terrence Steadman, and three years after Veronica’s death. Linc had finally begun to heal. He was happy, and living comfortably in Mexico with his son LJ, and his brother Michael, and Sara, was also there, who was now Michael’s wife. They always got together on Saturday mornings for breakfast and conversation, but this Saturday morning would send Lincoln’s life spiraling out of control.
Lincoln was in the kitchen slaving away at the stove, like he normally did. Eggs, bacon, waffles, sausage, coffee, freshly squeezed OJ and of course, blueberry pancakes for LJ. Michael and Sara came in and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Everything smells so good! I can’t wait to eat!” Sara said. She was a good 8 months pregnant, and used it as an excuse to eat whatever she damn well chose.
“Did you make sausage?” she asked Linc. Michael grinned at his wife, and gently patted her belly.
“Of course. We’ve got a little of everything here.” Linc began to put the food onto platters, and lay them on the table.
“LJ! Soup’s on!!”
LJ came running out into the kitchen, with his Ipod plugged into his ears, blasting the new Daughtry cd.
“Looks good Dad!” LJ replied, eyeing the delicious meal.
“Hey son, You wanna take that thing out of your ears?”
LJ listened, turned off the music player,and sat it down. They had all started eating and talking about the week’s current events, when there was a knock on the door. They lived in a two story, four bedroom house, that sat on a stretch of private land, right off the coast. They didn’t get many visitors, except for the mailman, or the occasional electrician or trade worker, so this was a bit unexpected to say the least.
“I’ll get it!” LJ offered, and hopped up out of his seat, and headed for the front door. Even though three years had passed, they were still a cautious bunch, and LJ looked out of the window before actually opening the door.
“It’s FedEx! Anybody expecting a package?”
Linc wasn’t alarmed. He assumed the delivery man had the wrong address.
“He’s probably at the wrong house. Answer the door.” Linc hollered from his post in the kitchen.
LJ opened the door.
“Hi. Delivery for Lincoln Burrows.”
“Oh. Ok. We weren’t expecting anything.” LJ signed for the package, and the delivery guy jumped back in his truck and drove off.
“Dad? It’s a package for you.” LJ walked back in the kitchen and gave his father the white box.
It wasn’t very heavy, maybe a pound; possibly less. Linc shook the box, a strange habit that most people have, like shaking the contents around will give you some profound knowledge of what’s inside.
“Who’s it from?” Michael asked.
Linc read the address. 123 East Everywhere Street, AnyState, USA. Hmmm. This was unsettling. Why would he be sent a package with such a shamelessly fake address. Out of paranoia, he put his ear to the box, to listen for ticking.... No ticking. He took a deep breath. At least it wasn't a bomb. So, he figured he’d take a chance and rip it open. Linc was puzzled at the contents.
“What is it?” Michael asked.
“It’s a videotape. Unmarked. No labels.”
“Is there a note?”
Lincoln and Michael had been through enough drama to recognize when there was trouble. They took the tape into the living room, and inserted it into the VCR. What played then shocked everyone in the room.
There was no picture. The screen was entirely black. There was only audio.
“Hello Lincoln. I assume your life is going pretty well. Your name was cleared, you’ve got a sweet amount of the DB Cooper fortune, and a comfortable house in Mexico. Your family is intact, your son, and your brother Michael and his wife Sara. It all makes for such a lovely existence doesn’t it?”
Lincoln wanted to sit down on his plush, jade green suede sofa, but his legs were like lead, and he couldn’t move an inch. Everyone in the room was standing -- paralyzed. The voice on the tape continued...
“Things would be perfect for you wouldn’t they? If you just had someone to love. Sure, you have your family, but what about that special lady? That one woman that’s worth risking everything for. Michael has it with Sara. Don’t you feel you deserve the same? I think you do. In fact, I’m going to give you that chance. You have 48 hours, Lincoln... to find the woman of your dreams. Or else...”
There was silence, although the tape was still rolling, and Lincoln was beginning to think that someone was playing a cruel joke on him.
“You still there Lincoln? Of course you are. Don’t you want to know what the “or else” is?”
“You find her. Or else we kill her. For real this time.”
And then the blackness on the screen gave way to footage of Lincoln’s long assumed deceased love Veronica Donovan... bound and gagged in a dimly lit room.
"The clock is ticking. 48 hours Lincoln."
This story will follow a timeline similar to 24. Each chapter spans one hour in the course of a day.
Chapter End Notes:
I have more written, let me know if I should continue to post this one... Thanks for reading!