The not-particularly-wide corridor, normally used only as a passageway, instantly became crowded. Six people on each side—twelve in total—packed the corridor.
Neither side had detected the other's presence. To Bella, it felt as if these people had suddenly emerged from the walls. The other side hadn't expected several people to suddenly appear from what looked like a storage room.
The atmosphere instantly became tense.
Everyone was on edge. Without thinking, both sides raised their weapons.
"Hm? Who are you?"
"Halt! Hands up! Protect the President!"
"Bella! Natasha! Take cover!"
"Dad!"
"Emily!"
Chaotic voices mixed together. A fierce battle was about to erupt.
Charlie's group raised their weapons extremely quickly. In this critical moment, even Bella and Natasha had no time to hide their abilities. Their side had three handguns, one submachine gun, one rifle, and two sets of body armor. The other side reacted just as quickly, but their firepower fell short—only four handguns, no protective equipment whatsoever.
However, at less than five meters distance, handguns were deadly enough.
After the initial confusion, the two sides faced off for two seconds, recognizing each other's identities, and slowly relaxed their guard.
At least Charlie's group recognized the other side—that dark-skinned guy was the current president, wasn't he? The people around him should be Secret Service protection detail, right?
"Dad!" The little girl in the green jacket, Emily, who'd been following the tour group but separated when she went to the bathroom, threw herself into Duke's arms. The joy of father-daughter reunion diluted the doubt and suspicion between the two facing groups.
Though Charlie often cursed the president while watching TV, he hadn't reached the point of rushing over to shoot him dead. He was the first to lower his gun.
The Secret Service agents also lowered their arms one after another. The tense atmosphere eased.
"Mr. President! It's me, Donnie! We've met several times. Here's what happened!..." The young tour guide Donnie had worked at the White House for years. He'd been here since the previous president's term. Everyone present knew him.
He had a gift for speech and was an eyewitness. He immediately launched into a detailed account for President Sawyer of how these "ordinary citizens" had escaped from the ruthless bandits.
Really? President James Sawyer looked over the family of four twice. Impressive! If all American citizens had this quality, America might have already expanded beyond the galaxy!
Learning that the family of four all came from California, he nodded knowingly.
America had one state famous for being untouchable—Texas.
Texas had a fierce reputation. Even gangs couldn't operate there because every Texan carried guns! Cartel bosses, drug lords, South American generals—once they came to Texas, they might get headshot by a grandmother out buying groceries. Who could handle that?
Slightly more reasonable than Texas was California. Texas was full of rough people who took pride in their roughness. Californians were wealthy and leisured, relatively milder than Texans. Of course, only slightly milder...
A few California "ordinary citizens" facing ruthless bandits barehanded, then killing two, wounding two, and looting a pile of weapons and equipment—it sounded fantastical, but was actually understandable. At least, that was how it looked to him.
President Sawyer asked curiously, "Where were you heading?"
The young guide answered again. This escape plan had been his idea originally. He promoted his plan once more, already imagining the scene of rescuing the American president and becoming famous nationwide.
A white-haired old man named Walker, the Secret Service director responsible for White House security, threw cold water on the young guide's enthusiasm.
"How naive. The west exit is already sealed. Two M21s are positioned on the White House rooftop. Under crossfire, none of you could escape. If you don't want to die, follow us. You civilians are quite lucky today."
The old man's tone held no emotion. After speaking, he gestured, and several agents protected President Sawyer while heading in another direction.
Duke, having found his daughter, the young guide, and Bella's family all hesitated.
Bella stared at the white-haired old agent's back with some uncertainty. She sensed malice, though not strongly. Something about his rigid posture, the way his hand rested near his holster—it felt off.
Malice came in many forms—jealousy, greed. Greed had many types: spiritual, physical, all kinds. Bella couldn't shoot everyone who bore her malice. This wasn't a black-and-white fairy tale world.
Several elite agents running around in chaos, beaten like dogs by bandits—feeling hostility toward these outstanding civilians out of jealousy and similar emotions wasn't particularly strange.
Bella offered no opinion. After comprehensive consideration, Charlie decided to follow. Everyone's thinking was similar—staying with the American president should be safer than running alone.
Bella's family of four, Duke and his daughter, and the young guide all followed the president's group at a run.
They stopped in a study. Several civilians, including Bella, stared wide-eyed as the white-haired Secret Service veteran Walker pushed aside a bookshelf, revealing a rather sci-fi-looking control panel.
"Aha! Is this the legendary underground bunker that's been under construction since President Roosevelt's time?" the young guide asked excitedly. The other civilians watched carefully, afraid to miss any detail.
The agents all maintained stern expressions. No one spoke.
President Sawyer stepped forward to scan his retina. A soft beep sounded. What appeared to be a bookshelf but was actually heavier than a bank vault slowly opened to both sides, revealing the White House's most mysterious aspect to everyone.
"Wow! Amazing!" Natasha excitedly pinched Bella's hand. Bella rolled her eyes speechlessly. If you're happy, fine—why pinch me?
Both were sneakily making small movements when suddenly a deadly warning of danger arose in their hearts.
"Get down!" Having received rigorous training, Natasha immediately ducked and pulled Charlie down with her.
Bella hadn't received such training. In less than half a second, she instinctively glanced back to see Secret Service veteran Walker standing at the rear, his hands raising a gun, the barrel aimed at everyone present.
Bella shoved Samantha aside. The bullet was already upon her. She bent her knees, her body leaning back as far as possible, struggling to dodge the bullet.