JFK International Airport, New York.
Owen stood by the arrivals exit, watching as passengers streamed out. Before long, a figure wearing sunglasses and carrying a canvas bag stepped through the doors. Owen raised his hand in greeting. The man spotted him and walked over with a grin.
Removing his sunglasses, it was none other than Heartbeat.
"Hey, man…" Heartbeat smiled as the two clasped hands and pulled each other into a bear hug.
"What happened to your hair?"
Owen eyed his friend's clean-shaven scalp. The once-iconic mohawk was gone, replaced by a slick, shiny dome. Still, Heartbeat hadn't let go of his love for sunglasses.
"Ha! It's cooler this way," Heartbeat laughed, rubbing his bald head.
Owen tilted his head toward the parking lot. "Come on."
As they walked toward the car, Owen asked, "How's everyone doing?"
"All good. They send their regards."
Owen nodded with a small smile. Jack Bauer's decision had come out of nowhere. Owen had originally come to New York for an operation. By the time it ended, he was immediately tasked with forming and leading the Rapid Reaction Team, without even getting a chance to go back to L.A. for a proper handover.
Still, Tony—Jack's trusted man—had fully supported the move. Owen had called him the night before, and Tony had already begun scouting replacements for both him and Heartbeat, whose departure left a big gap in L.A.'s field operations team. On top of that, two new agents were being sent to Colorado Naval Base for training—this time, not just from L.A., but from several major cities, including two from New York.
Clearly, under Jack's leadership, the CTU–SEAL Team partnership was growing stronger.
When they reached the car, Owen filled Heartbeat in on the current situation as they drove toward CTU New York.
"The Rapid Reaction Team is a new kind of counter-terror unit. We don't just respond to threats—we strike first, preemptively. Right now it's just the two of us. If you know anyone good, I'm open to recommendations…"
Owen's emphasis on "preemptive" was crucial. This marked a major departure from CTU's traditional doctrine. Historically, CTU operated reactively—cleaning up after an attack. Even when they had prior intel, they'd need airtight evidence before moving in.
But the Rapid Reaction Team was different.
Under Jack's directive, the team had the authority to act on probable threats—even without a smoking gun. For instance, if someone acquired a WMD but hadn't explicitly threatened U.S. soil, the old CTU might have merely monitored him. CIA would've waited for overt signs of hostility.
But now, if CTRF's analysts believed the individual might pose a future threat to the U.S., they could act immediately. In short: better to shoot first than regret later.
Of course, such operations carried massive risk. Like CIA field ops, these actions would never be officially acknowledged. If captured, CTRF agents would be on their own.
They arrived at CTU. Owen led Heartbeat inside and into the temporary office assigned to him.
The Rapid Reaction Team's organizational structure placed it under CTU Headquarters in D.C., reporting directly to Jack Bauer. On paper, it was on par with any state CTU office. But operationally, it outranked them all.
For now, Jack had ordered them to stay in New York, using local CTU resources.
Ten minutes later, Owen took Heartbeat to gear up. Since he'd flown in, his usual kit was still at CTU. Heartbeat completed his check with the ease of a veteran.
"You want to rest a bit?" Owen asked.
After all, flying from the West Coast to the East was no joke—nearly 4,000 kilometers. Seven hours in the air.
"I'm good. I slept plenty on the plane."
"In that case, there's an anti-hijacking drill this afternoon. I'll let them know we're joining."
Heartbeat nodded, game for action. For frontline operatives like them, constant training was essential—they had to stay sharp. Owen found Agent Keel and arranged for them to be included.
New York had three major airports and a long history of plane hijackings. As a result, NY CTU took this kind of training seriously. Boris didn't hesitate to greenlight it. After all, he owed Owen a favor, and Jack had already ordered full cooperation with the Rapid Reaction Team.
An hour later, Owen and Heartbeat arrived at a training facility on the outskirts of the city. On the tarmac stood a full-size Boeing 747 repurposed for exercises, along with several other mock aircraft.
Heartbeat whistled low. "Damn, NY really is loaded. They've got multiple airframes?"
Compared to L.A.—which only had a single aging 737—this was another level.
At the command, the exercise began.
The "hijackers" had seized control of the training aircraft. CTU's tactical team was split into two squads: A and B. Owen and Heartbeat were assigned to A.
Both teams approached from the rear using stair-trucks. Since this was their first joint drill, the squads would move separately but act in sync under command. Owen resumed his familiar role as a breacher. His teammates from NY CTU would handle the rest.
A-team's target: the cockpit.
Once the ladder was secured, they climbed onto the engine casing, then up onto the fuselage. Quiet and coordinated, they advanced along the aircraft's curved back toward the cockpit roof. Owen led the way, with a safety line tied to his waist and held by Heartbeat—just in case anyone slipped.
They reached the cockpit. Owen lay flat above the flight deck window, MP5 slung across his back, silenced M9 in hand. For a breach like this, a pistol offered more control and maneuverability than a SMG.
"A-Team in position."
Through binoculars, Owen gave a silent OK sign. His earpiece buzzed with status reports—everyone was ready.
Owen flattened himself against the window's edge, listening. His teammates crouched behind him, waiting for the word.
Keel was the exercise commander. Unlike Owen, who preferred to lead from the front, Keel excelled in oversight and coordination. He remained with the support team, issuing commands from a secure vantage point.
"Sniper in position," came a whisper through the channel. "One hostile between the captain and co-pilot. Facing forward. Confirmed visual."
On the tarmac, Team B finished rigging the main cabin door with breaching charges and pulled back. "B-Team ready."
On a rooftop, Keel scanned the area with binoculars. Each "hijacker" was marked, their movements tracked. He waited for the perfect moment.
Then, finally, the command came through the earpiece—calm and decisive:
"Execute."
------------------
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I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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