Counterterrorism in America

From the neighboring building, the CTU snipers had been lying in wait, their rifles trained on the Nakatomi Tower. Jack Bauer coordinated over the radio, detailing the position and descriptions of each hostage-taker. He himself remained in reserve, ready to eliminate any that managed to slip through the cracks.

Bob, now acting as the sniper team leader, assigned targets to each sniper. Simultaneously, the CTU strike team and SWAT operators stood ready. They waited for Jack's command.

Five... four... three... two... one.

"Go!" Jack's voice rang out.

At that exact moment, the power to the entire tower was cut, plunging the building into total darkness. Almost simultaneously, snipers opened fire. The glass façade of the tower shattered with pinpoint precision as small bullet holes appeared. Each enemy caught within the faint glow of night-vision scopes was swiftly neutralized with a single headshot.

Next came a rapid series of loud cracks as multiple grappling hooks punched through the glass and embedded into the floor. One after another, CTU strike team members and SWAT operatives zipped down the ropes, crashing into the building.

Land. Aim. Fire. Secure. Identify.

They moved with flawless coordination, executing tactics they had rehearsed countless times. It was a textbook operation.

Under the eerie green glow of night-vision goggles, the few remaining robbers mounted little resistance. They were swiftly gunned down, their lives ending in a barrage of precise shots. The gunfire soon ceased, leaving only the quiet murmurs of operators as snipers maintained overwatch, and strike teams methodically ensured none of the hostiles would survive their wounds.

All nine robbers guarding the 46th floor were eliminated. The hostages were secured without a single casualty on either side. The operation had gone perfectly.

Jack Bauer holstered his weapon and emerged from his hiding place. As power was restored to the building, light flooded the 46th floor. The shocked hostages froze for a moment, staring wide-eyed at the armed officers who had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. Then, realizing they were safe, they erupted in cheers and tears.

Some laughed in relief; others wept openly. A few clung to the officers, refusing to let go, while others knelt in prayer, overwhelmed by emotion.

With the power restored, the team wasted no time. They gathered the hostages and began calming and organizing them for evacuation. Using multiple ropes, the strike teams quickly established a zipline system between the tower and the adjacent building.

The first hostage was secured with a harness and sent sliding across to the other side, where more operatives awaited to receive them. Soon, a steady stream of hostages followed—second, third, fourth—until all ten ziplines were operating at full capacity.

Meanwhile, below, camera flashes flared incessantly. The sight of the first hostage being evacuated became a moment of triumph for the media and the public.

Despite their fear, each hostage was securely fastened and sent across. On the other side, CTU snipers scanned the surrounding buildings, ensuring no enemies would take shots at the zipline evacuees.

Seeing the operation proceed smoothly, Jack pressed the communication button on his earpiece. "Owen, where are you?"

Owen heard Jack's call but was too busy running for his life to respond properly. For reasons unknown to him, a squad of robbers had ambushed them in the stairwell. Things quickly took a turn for the worse.

McClane's plot armor had momentarily failed. In the initial exchange of fire, he was hit. His injuries weren't immediately fatal, but his mobility was severely compromised. Making matters worse, McClane had given his bulletproof vest to Holly, leaving him vulnerable.

Owen was struggling to fend off the attackers while also trying to keep Holly and an injured McClane safe.

"31st floor! Send backup! Damn it, McClane's been shot. If you don't get here soon, we're gonna end up in body bags!" Owen shouted into the radio.

Before he could finish, a hail of bullets shattered the radio in his hand. The gunfire was fierce, led by the blond-haired enforcer Alex. Owen's only reprieve was the handful of grenades he'd salvaged earlier, which he used to temporarily stall their advance. But it was only a matter of time before they caught up.

Owen knew he couldn't hold out forever and silently hoped Jack's reinforcements would arrive soon. He and McClane stumbled through the maze of corridors, with the relentless pursuit growing closer. Owen glanced at McClane, who was now struggling to even walk. He clenched his teeth and made a decision.

It wasn't about abandoning McClane—far from it. Owen resolved to lure the attackers away to buy them time. Over the course of their ordeal, he and McClane had become inseparable, enduring countless near-death encounters. They were more than comrades now; they were brothers.

McClane, despite his condition, had the same idea. "You take Holly and go. I'll hold them off," he said weakly.

Owen chuckled in response, a genuine warmth filling his chest. "Hah! You think I'm gonna let you pull that 'heroic sacrifice' bullshit? Forget it. You still owe me. Three to two—remember that."

The two men had been keeping score of how many times they'd saved each other. Until now, they were tied at two each. But Owen wasn't about to let McClane play the martyr.

"Listen, you two stay put. I'll draw them away," Owen ordered firmly, shoving McClane and Holly into a hidden corner.

Footsteps echoed ominously from the hall. The robbers were closing in.

Owen tightened his grip on his gun, gave a carefree smile to his companions, and charged forward, firing indiscriminately as he ran. The robbers fell for the bait and pursued him down the corridor.

The tactic worked, but Owen's situation worsened by the minute. His ammunition was running dangerously low. After another skirmish, he discarded his empty handgun. His last bullet had already been fired.

He sprinted through the maze-like corridors, praying for Jack Bauer's team to arrive in time. Bullets whizzed past his heels, forcing him to dart and weave through every available passage.

Though the robbers pursued with fury, they struggled to keep pace. Owen's agility and parkour skills, something he had learned purely out of curiosity in his past life, now became his greatest asset.

Even without ammunition, Owen managed to stay ahead by using his environment to his advantage—vaulting over obstacles, scaling walls, and slipping through tight spaces. Each time the robbers tried to aim, he would be gone in a blur of motion.

But how long could he keep running? Time was running out. He needed a miracle.

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