Counterterrorism in America

Owen and the blonde man wrestled on the ground, fighting with no technique left. It had devolved into a brawl, with both using any means necessary—biting, clawing, and hair-pulling.

Through the sniper's scope, Owen could be seen yanking the blonde man's hair, taking punches to the face. At the same time, Owen retaliated with a vicious strike to the man's groin, causing him to gasp in pain. The two separated momentarily, only to lunge at each other again.

Owen swept the blonde man off his feet and tried to choke him, but before he could apply pressure, his opponent grabbed his hair and flipped him over. When the blonde man pounced, Owen countered with a powerful kick that sent him sprawling.

Seizing the moment, Owen grabbed the man by his tactical vest and kneed him hard in the stomach. Instead of blocking, the blonde man threw himself onto Owen, and they both tumbled across the floor once more.

Both men were utterly exhausted, gasping for air. Their punches slowed, each blow like something from a drunken brawl. Owen stumbled toward his opponent, grabbing him by the chest. He wheezed heavily, then sluggishly aimed a punch at the man's stomach. The move was so slow it was blocked easily, forcing Owen to change tactics—he headbutted him instead.

The blonde man staggered backward from the impact. Blood dripped from his mouth, and several teeth fell out. As Owen released his grip, he heard a metallic clink and noticed something strange in his hand. He opened his palm to find a grenade pin.

The blonde man saw it too. His eyes widened in horror as he frantically patted his chest, trying to locate which grenade had been primed. But there were too many hanging from his vest.

Realizing the danger, Owen's adrenaline surged. He summoned the last of his strength and delivered a powerful kick to the blonde man's chest. The man was launched backward, falling toward the building's edge.

"Nooooooo!"

BOOM!

The explosion shattered several floors of windows below. Blood and fragments of flesh splattered upwards, landing on Owen. His head swam from the blast's shockwave, leaving him momentarily dazed.

Footsteps echoed nearby. Owen instinctively tried to stand but froze halfway when he saw a group of men in matching black tactical gear approaching. Recognizing them as law enforcement, he felt his remaining strength drain away and collapsed to the ground.

Underground Garage, Level B2

The entire garage was eerily quiet, sealed off due to the explosives on the first floor. In a far corner, a group of people hid behind pillars. One of them pressed a detonator, and a small controlled explosion created a rectangular hole in the wall. Beyond it lay another garage, filled with parked vehicles.

Hans waved the smoke away and led the group through the opening. They soon arrived at a large box truck. Someone opened the rear door, and the group quickly piled inside.

A short while later, a SWAT assault vehicle rolled out of the garage. There was no trace of the thieves; the occupants were all dressed in tactical uniforms. Hans adjusted his hood and knocked on the truck's interior wall, signaling the driver to move. The vehicle navigated through the parking structure and exited onto the street.

Feeling the vehicle accelerate, Hans allowed himself a smug smile. No one would suspect that the neighboring building's garage connected to their escape route.

Outside, Carl, one of the officers manning the roadblock, had been watching the hostages zipline across the gap between buildings. He noticed the approaching assault vehicle but, seeing the SWAT markings and masked driver, raised the barrier to let them pass without issue.

Ten minutes later, Owen, now safely across the gap, was caught by CTU agents from the other building. There, he reunited with McClane and Holly, who had received first aid.

"Man, I owe you one," McClane said with a weary smile.

The two survivors shared a moment of relieved laughter. Owen pulled McClane into a bear hug, causing the other man to wince in pain.

"You really shouldn't be here," Owen said. "You should have been evacuated already."

"I couldn't leave you behind," McClane replied. Now that Owen was safe, he finally allowed himself to relax.

McClane and Holly soon left for further medical attention. Exhausted, Owen declined assistance from the police and sat down to catch his breath. After resting for a while, he made his way downstairs.

At the building's entrance, Owen arrived just in time to see McClane beating up a familiar figure—it was the reporter. A crowd of journalists had gathered, filming and taking photos. McClane didn't seem to care. He cursed loudly as he kicked the man repeatedly, while Holly joined in.

Spotting Owen, a swarm of reporters rushed toward him, cameras flashing so intensely that he nearly went blind. Reporters thrust microphones at him, shouting questions. The police barricade was the only thing preventing them from overwhelming him.

Meanwhile, Hans had the driver stop at a safe distance. This was the farthest point from which he could still remotely detonate the explosives. Any further, and the signal might not reach.

Turning to the others in the truck, Hans saw that everyone had removed their masks. Their faces were filled with elation—they were now rich beyond their dreams. Bags of cash and bonds were opened, and dollar bills were tossed into the air like confetti.

Theo, the tech expert, laughed giddily as he fondled a stack of cash, counting it over and over again.

Hans smiled and retrieved a detonator from his bag. He placed his thumb over the button and began counting down.

"Three…"

Theo paused. Something felt off. He reached into the bag and touched a hard object.

"Two…"

Curious, Theo pulled it out. The entire truck fell silent as everyone stared at the device in his hand.

"One…"

Their faces contorted in terror.

"Noooo!"

BOOM!

The explosion rocked both the truck and the building's 18th floor. Flames burst out, shattering the entire level's windows. Shards of glass rained down on the crowd below. Reporters screamed in shock but quickly recovered, snapping more photos of the dramatic scene.

Owen glanced up at the burning 18th floor, then at the wreckage of the assault vehicle near the roadblock. Scattered debris, including shredded dollar bills, floated through the air. He pieced together what had happened.

Three Minutes Later – Near the Ambulance

Owen hugged his mother and sister tightly as they arrived in a rush. A warm smile spread across his face.

"I'm okay, I'm really okay. See? I'm right here, safe and sound. Don't worry, Mom. Amanda, you too—everything's fine now," he reassured them repeatedly.

_________________________

[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [[email protected]/Mutter]