Brent, Saiko, and Ben sit on a sofa in the Empire State Building's main hall. The three of them, having betrayed Neil's team, gather together in the same spot.
"So... are you guys volunteers?"
Across from them, in a chair, sits a man in a terrorist's uniform. His face is horribly scarred, half-burned, the kind of sight that makes people flinch. Curious about these three mysterious teenagers, he begins his questioning.
"...Yes... probably," Saiko, the one in the middle, answers.
"Probably?"
"We are... you could say... switching sides?"
...
"Oh! You betrayed your friends! That's a good one."
"Yeah, you could say that." Saiko gives an awkward laugh.
"Strange, isn't it? The three of you, separated, somehow all deciding to betray your team at the exact same time. As if you knew when it would happen."
"...""...""..."
The three glance at one another, hesitating.
"We... talked about it earlier," Saiko admits.
"What did you discuss?"
"We agreed that with such a small team, we had no chance against an entire company of armed soldiers. No matter how careful the plan was, there would always be mistakes, and the risk of failing was too high. If that happened, we didn't know what terrible things would be done to us."
He pauses to catch his breath, then continues.
"And as we guessed, the plan failed. So before we even started, we decided that instead of risking our lives to fight your organization, we would wait for the right time, then turn the others in. In exchange, we could join you and stay safe."
The scarred man tilts his head, almost impressed. This kid is not only confident enough to speak to dangerous people like him, but he speaks with calm reasoning and clear logic.
"You kids made the right decision. You're smart. Tell me, was this your idea?"
"No." Saiko rolls his eyes. "It wasn't my idea. Brent came up with it."
"Huh? Oh, yeah!" Brent blurts. "It was me who came up with this genius plan! I knew from the start that bastard Neil and his little crew couldn't be trusted!"
He puffs out his chest and starts bragging, claiming the plan is his from start to finish, that everything is under his control. The man lets him talk for a while, but when Brent finally runs out of breath, his attention shifts back to Saiko.
"So, you came all the way here to ensure your safety. But what happens after we leave?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we can't stay here forever. In a few days we will be gone, through tunnels already prepared. Once the Americans declare war on the Soviet Union, our mission in this city is complete. But you... you are not one of us. So what will you do then? Go home? Pretend nothing ever happened? Or..."
He leans forward, burned face grim, waiting for Saiko's answer.
"Will you let us leave?"
"...Who knows? You know our plans. You know our intentions. If you go back, who can say what you might tell others? Who can guarantee you will keep your mouth shut for the rest of your life? Or..." He pauses deliberately. "You could come with us to Russia."
"Why?"
"For World War Three that is coming, the Soviet Army will need a lot of personnel," the scarred man says. "I believe the three of you could be useful. That is, if you are willing to learn Russian."
The suggestion makes Brent and Ben exchange uneasy looks. If they agree, it means saying goodbye to home, to their parents, to everything familiar. A new country, a new language, all just to make sure these men do not silence them to cover their tracks.
"We—"
"Я принимаю. (I accept)," Saiko interrupts, his voice calm.
The scarred man blinks, surprised. "Ты говоришь по-русски? (You speak Russian?)"
"Да, всего лишь немного. Я не использовал его с тех пор, как приехал в США, будучи ещё молодым. (Yes, a little. I haven't used it since I came to the US when I was young.)"
"Отлично! Я действительно подумал, что ты американец. Ты пытаешься вернуться домой? (Excellent! I truly thought you were American. Are you trying to return home?)"
"Не совсем, но я бы хотел попросить у тебя одолжения. (Not exactly, but I would like to ask you for a favor.)"
The man tilts his head. "?"
"Если бы я вернулся в Россию, мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты... (If I were to go back to Russia, I would like you to...)"
Their voices drop into hushed tones. Brent and Ben cannot follow the Russian. Ben in particular sits awkwardly, his eyes drifting to the man's half-burned face. He wonders what kind of horror could leave someone scarred like that.
After a while, the two finish their exchange. Saiko steps back, expression unreadable, and lets the scarred man resume the conversation.
"Alright then. I still can't believe we found someone like you. Rare. I look forward to seeing you back home."
"Thanks," Saiko replies.
The man turns to Brent and Ben. "How about you two? Do you want to stay, or come with us?"
Brent swallows hard. "Before that, may I ask you a question? I don't mean to offend."
The man stares. "...Go on."
"What happened to your face?"
"This?" He points to his burned cheek, his mouth twisting into a grin. "Don't worry. This isn't an injury. It's a victory mark. I earned it when I kidnapped the President. Proof that we are unstoppable."
"Oh... ok..." Brent mutters, shrinking back into the sofa.
"So, what is your decision—"
"WE GOT AN INTRUDER!"
A terrorist bursts into the hall, shouting the news. The man with the half-burned face, the commander of them all, rises instantly from his chair.
"Sir! We have an intruder coming in. We don't know if he's still outside or already inside!" the terrorist says, panting.
"How the fuck does nobody know? What about the guards?"
"We don't know, sir! Someone just reported it a minute ago. The intruder could be sneaky, maybe disguising himself as one of us."
Brent's eyes widen as a name crashes into his mind, someone he had forgotten until now. "Oh... shit."
"Why would he come here?" another asks.
The commander's face hardens. His thoughts go immediately to the prisoners captured by Gabriel.
"He's coming... for them. Contact the leader! Send more men to protect him right now. Make sure—"
BANG!
A gunshot cracks through the building, followed by several more. From the sound, it comes from the floors just above or below.
"He's already inside," the commander growls. He turns to the terrorists in the hall. "All of you! Go after the gunshots! Find him and kill him!"
Then he looks back at Brent, Saiko, and Ben. His eyes linger.
"You. Stay here."
Without another word, he strides off, leaving the three alone, tense and confused, unsure of what to do next.
--------------------------------------------
BANG!
"What the hell is that?"
Gabriel freezes. A second later, the walkie-talkie in his pocket crackles to life.
"Sir! We have an intruder inside the building! Be careful of the hostages, he may be coming for—"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Gunfire cuts the voice short. The line goes dead.
"Hello? Hello?! Is anyone there?!"
Gabriel lowers the walkie-talkie, his jaw tightening.
Neil smirks. "Well, look at that. Looks like your plan is falling apart."
Gabriel snaps his glare at him. "Is this all your idea?"
"No. But it's your mistake for underestimating us. Did you really think we'd walk into your lair without backup plans? Do you really think you found all of us, and that we were stupid enough to put everyone inside?"
Gabriel blinks, confused. "???"
Neil leans forward, his voice sharper now. "Even worse, did you really think I'd let someone like you tie me to a chair... without a trick or two up my sleeve?"
"What are you—shit!"
Neil moves in an instant. He springs up from the chair, the ropes falling away, already cut loose minutes earlier. He lunges at Gabriel before the man can react.
The impact slams Gabriel against the wall. Neil's hand clamps around his throat, squeezing hard.
"ACKK!"
"Mister President!" Mikael shouts.
Neil glances at him and flicks his wrist. The tiny blade he had used to cut himself free sails through the air, landing on the President's lap.
Mikael understands immediately. Still tied to the chair, he grips the knife awkwardly with his feet and struggles to lift it toward his bound hands.
"VA-SI-LIA!" Gabriel roars, his strangled voice echoing through the hall.
"Shut up!"
Answering Gabriel's call, Vasilia bursts into the room. She had heard noises earlier but waited. Gabriel's yell pushes her to act. She spots the President struggling with the knife.
"You're not going anywhere!"
She charges, but Neil reacts first. He lashes out with a hard kick, sending her crashing to the floor. Mikael stomps down with his right leg, pinning her stomach to stop her from rising.
"Get your fucking leg off me!" Vasilia screams.
With all four adults grappling, Chad seizes the moment. He darts toward the President, reaching for the knife on his lap.
Then—
CHUF! CHUF!! CHUF!!!
"What the hell is that?"
The sound interrupts them all. Every head whips toward the window.
CHUF! CHUF!! CHUF!!!
Outside hovers a civilian helicopter, but it is anything but harmless. Twin Gatling guns glint beneath its frame.
"Holy shit! EVERYONE GET DOWN!"
BBBBRRRRRRRR!!!!!
The chopper opens fire, indiscriminate. Bullets shred the floor and door, glass exploding in deafening bursts. Neil releases Gabriel instantly and throws himself toward the President and Chad, dragging them out of the kill zone just in time.
BBBBRRRRRRRR!!!!!
They press flat against the wall, hugging cover as splinters and debris shower down. In the chaos, Neil spots the knife on the ground. He snatches it, sawing through Mikael's bindings, then Chad's.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Freed at last, Neil pushes them forward. They sprint through the shattered door while the helicopter continues its barrage.
Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the gunfire stops. The helicopter rises, banking away into the gray sky.
Gabriel and Vasilia remain on the floor, rattled but alive.
"Who the fuck was in that helo?!" Gabriel snarls, rage twisting across his burned face.
It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is clear: Neil Phildom and his allies have escaped.