None of the CTU agents dispatched to the building across the street from David Palmer's hotel expected to find much evidence in the room where the shot was fired. They definitely didn't expect to find the sniper rifle used lying on the floor of the room, and the last thing in the world they expected to find was what is waiting for them when one of the forensics techs disassembles it.
"I've got prints--two partials," she calls out, carefully tape-lifting the latents. "One of them is pretty big, we should get a hit." In an instant there's another tech at her side, portable scanner and laptop ready.
It takes a few seconds to scan the prints, a few anxious minutes for AFIS to return the results: 75 matches.
The agent in charge of the scene looks over the tech's shoulder. "Can you limit it by physical description and military service?"
"Already on it," she says, fingers flying across the keys. Entering the description they'd received from witnesses, as well as military service and/or sniper training, she sets the program in motion again. Another minute, then a soft beep. One match. The profile comes up, and there's a simultaneous intake of breath.
The tech looks from the agent to the screen and back. She's heard the stories; even without meeting the man in person, there's no way anyone at CTU: L.A. wouldn't recognise the name. "Is that...?"
The agent digs his cellphone from his pocket, punching in the number for CTU with an urgency he hadn't expected. "I need to talk to Buchanan right away. ...Sir? We got a print off the weapon left at the scene." He glances at the screen, as though confirming it before he has to say it out loud, though he knows he hasn't made a mistake.
"Sir, the prints belong to Jack Bauer."