Reborn in 24 TV SHOW

Steve Owen felt as if he had just woken up. Everything around him was a mess. His whole body ached, his vision was blurred as if out of focus, and his ears buzzed like a television struggling to pick up a signal.

The surrounding area seemed to be filled with noise. He had no idea how much time had passed when his vision slowly began to clear, though his ears were still ringing, making it impossible to hear anything.

Car bomb!

Owen immediately recalled the last scene before he lost consciousness. They had been trapped in a narrow street and then hit by a car bomb. Judging by the windshield in front of him, their vehicle had overturned. He was still strapped into the driver's seat, and the seatbelt was digging painfully into his neck.

Looking around in confusion, Owen saw through the front windshield that Morris was engaged in a gunfight with someone. He could see the muzzle flashes, but he couldn't hear the gunshots at all—his hearing hadn't recovered yet.

Morris fired several shots, then knocked on the windshield during a brief pause, shouting something as if trying to wake Owen up. But he quickly turned back and resumed shooting.

What had been the car door was now an open skylight. Monica was firing outside. After a few shots, she ducked back in and shouted something at Owen, but he could only see her lips move—he still couldn't hear a thing.

ASH was slumped in the passenger seat. She had been closest to the explosion and suffered the most damage. The shattered glass from the blast had left tiny cuts all over one side of her face.

Owen called out to her a few times. His ears had recovered slightly, allowing him to faintly hear his own voice, but ASH remained motionless.

He reached out and checked her carotid artery. Thank God, she was still alive—just unconscious.

Monica shook his body, calling his name with urgency. Seeing no immediate response from him, she shoved the door open and resumed firing outside.

As Owen surveyed the scene, he realized that inside the vehicle, it was just him, Monica, and Alex.

He shook his head vigorously, trying to snap himself back to full awareness.

Through the window, he spotted Campbell and Morris still engaged in a firefight. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire became clear again—bullets pinging against the armored transport. His hearing was back.

Morris fired a few more rounds and tapped on the windshield again. Seeing that Owen was now alert, he turned back to the fight. But just then, Owen saw his body jerk backward.

Bang!

Morris slammed against the side of the vehicle.

He'd been shot!

Owen tensed up, instantly alert. He found his gun.

Gunfire was erupting all around. Bullets ricocheted off the transport with loud pings. Luckily, the vehicle offered some degree of protection—it wasn't as sturdy as their BearCat G3, but it still provided partial cover.

Outside, Morris managed to get back on his feet. This time, everyone had come prepared with heavy-duty bulletproof vests—it had just saved his life.

Morris resumed firing. Owen was about to jump out and assist when he saw Morris suddenly lurch again. This time, he collapsed directly against the windshield and began sliding downward.

A spray of bright red followed.

Owen's heart clenched. He kicked the door open, leaped out, and grabbed Morris, dragging him towards the back of the vehicle while firing with his free hand. Monica provided covering fire.

Once they reached cover, Owen instinctively reached out to check Morris's pulse—only then did he notice the massive wound on his head.

Morris was dead.

He had been killed by a machine gunner who had suddenly appeared on the second floor.

Owen's mouth hung open in shock, his entire body frozen in place.

Morris was dead. Just like that. Right in front of him…

For a moment, Owen felt as if his blood had turned to ice. The memories of this straightforward, burly Texan flooded his mind.

"Buddy, no one really has faith in you, but man, you better stand tall—I've got ten bucks riding on you."

"Damn it, how am I supposed to fight without a heavy-duty vest?"

"Damn, you scared the hell out of us just now."

"Haha! With this gear, I'm back to being indestructible!"

"Cover me~~~"

Owen's eyes stung. This Texan had always been the first to charge in, using his broad frame to absorb more than half the enemy fire aimed at the team. His body was constantly bruised from the punishment he took.

Just moments ago, he had been shooting while trying to wake Owen up. And now, this tough yet caring guy was dead—just like that.

Rage and sorrow surged within Owen, but this was still a battlefield. Bullets zipped past him, barely missing.

"Cover me~~~"

Bang, bang, bang!

Hearing Monica's urgent call, Owen shoved aside his grief and immediately provided covering fire. He focused his shots on the most dangerous enemy positions.

The battle raged on, but Owen quickly steadied himself, his mind sharpening as he assessed the battlefield.

Their convoy had been blocked at both ends by two vehicles, trapping them. Gunfire rained down from all sides. And up in the building—there was still a machine gunner. They were surrounded on three sides.

Then—whoosh!

The SUV at the rear exploded. The attackers on the rooftop weren't just carrying machine guns—they had rocket launchers. Whether it was an RPG or an M72, Owen couldn't tell.

Boom!

The SUV at the front was also hit. The FBI agents inside were instantly engulfed in flames, reduced to charred corpses.

However, no more rockets followed. Owen guessed that the attackers were holding back, likely unsure whether Alex was in one of the vehicles.

Gunfire continued. Owen fired multiple shots, but only managed to hit one enemy. The masked assailants were highly skilled—the best he had ever faced.

Their shooting stance was precise, their accuracy sharp, and their teamwork seamless. When he had fired at the machine gunner earlier, an enemy had immediately targeted him in response. That level of coordination only came from long-term training together.

"Team A, cover the rear! Team B, hold the front! Watch the machine gunner on the second floor! Owen, Monica—you two take him out first!"

ASH was still unresponsive. Bruce, at the front, immediately assumed command. Having trained together extensively, he knew Owen and Monica were the best duo for eliminating the machine gunner.

"Roger that!"

Owen and Monica moved into position. One provided covering fire while the other focused on the machine gunner.

Team B, behind the second vehicle, was struggling. They had also been hit by the car bomb earlier, though not as severely as Owen's team.

They had held off most of the frontal assault but at great cost. Owen spotted multiple SWAT officers lying motionless on the ground. Team B had taken casualties.

Monica took position below the second-floor balcony on the left, while Owen moved to the right. Monica kept her rifle aimed at the machine gunner's position.

"RATATATATATA!"

The machine gunner opened fire—but was instantly silenced. Monica's shot hit dead-on, the bullet entering through the jaw and exiting through the back of his skull, splattering brain matter across the wall.

Yet, no sooner had he fallen than another enemy took his place. Several shooters emerged at once, all firing at Monica. She had to retreat, bullets sparking off the armored vehicle.

Owen seized the moment, taking out one shooter. Monica popped out and fired three quick shots, dropping another.

But then—a storm of bullets rained down.

Every weapon on the rooftop was now aimed at them. Forced back behind cover, they could only listen as rounds pounded the vehicle, sounding like beans being fried in a pan.

Then Owen remembered something—he had a fragmentation grenade.

They rarely used explosives in urban settings, but this time, Team B had specifically brought them. He had nearly forgotten about this little treasure.

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