The morning after the CTU bombing felt endless.
Just moments ago, CTU had received a distress call from Tony.
Early that morning, Tony and another field agent had gone to investigate a lead, only to discover that the suspects were heavily armed. Rather than take unnecessary risks, Tony wisely called for backup. Owen joined the tactical team and rushed to the scene.
To maintain the element of surprise, their vehicle stopped a block away, and the team approached the building on foot.
Inside an old apartment complex, an eight-man CTU tactical team, fully geared, moved quietly up the stairs in a staggered formation. Each member covered a specific direction, while the last man in the team moved backward, ensuring a full 360-degree field of vision.
They reached the third floor. The squad leader gave a silent hand signal, and the team split into two, positioning themselves on either side of a door.
A soft click echoed from down the hall—another tenant was taking out their trash. Before she could react, a CTU officer quickly covered her mouth and pulled her back inside her apartment. Only after she calmed down did they release her, gesturing for her to stay down and remain silent.
The terrified woman nodded, grabbed her child, and huddled on the floor, trembling.
At the door, Owen glanced at Tony, who nodded in response. The squad leader gestured downward. Owen stepped back two paces, raised his Remington shotgun, and fired a deafening blast at the door lock before swiftly moving aside.
In the next second, the assault team stormed in. Suppressed gunfire crackled, followed by the thuds of bodies hitting the floor and the pained groans of two men. Within moments, two shirtless white males were dragged out, their hands zip-tied behind their backs.
Hoods were pulled over their heads before they were escorted downstairs. Other officers followed, carrying confiscated weapons, computers, and other electronic devices to be sent back to CTU for analysis.
Owen returned to the vehicle, securing his Remington in the trunk.
He had personally requested to participate in the breach, having pleaded with Tony multiple times before being given the chance.
CTU's tactical unit functioned similarly to SWAT, specializing in high-risk raids. Owen had always wanted to take part, but without formal training, he had never been allowed to. Today was a rare opportunity. However, even then, he was only permitted to breach the door—the actual room entry was left to the professionals.
Back at CTU, Owen received an unexpected call—FBI had backed down.
The USB drive Chloe had given him that morning contained damning evidence on multiple FBI agents. Owen had sent the information to the implicated parties via FedEx, and just as Tony predicted, the FBI immediately withdrew their charges against Amanda and erased all related records.
Owen promptly informed Brian—the problem was now resolved. The FBI agents had no idea how close they had come to being eliminated by an old CIA operative.
Everyone at CTU was exhausted. They had been working non-stop for 24 hours, interrogating Salim with increasingly aggressive techniques, even bending some ethical boundaries. Yet, they had extracted no useful intel.
The investigation into Cruel Angel also hit a dead end. Their key members had vanished, leaving only small-time operatives—useless for gathering critical intelligence.
Nina, eyes bloodshot, stared at the TV screen, where news outlets continued to broadcast updates about the CTU bombing. The pressure on her was immense.
Several politicians had begun publicly questioning CTU's competence. How could an anti-terror agency become the victim of a terror attack? It was a humiliating irony.
Some citizens echoed these concerns. CTU, despite its crucial work, had a relatively low public profile due to the classified nature of its operations. Unable to publicly disclose its successes, the agency had no way to defend itself.
With tensions rising, everyone eagerly awaited President Brown's upcoming speech on the incident.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps caught everyone's attention.
A sharply dressed man entered through the main doors.
Owen didn't recognize him, but judging by the expressions on his colleagues' faces, this was no ordinary visitor.
Nina immediately stepped forward, looking nervous. "Director Allen! What… what brings you here?"
Owen's eyes widened. Scott Allen—the Director of CTU?!
It was the first time he had seen the organization's highest-ranking official in person.
Allen appeared unassuming—an average-looking man in a well-tailored suit, exuding a scholarly demeanor. However, rumors said he had a military background, though his appearance didn't show it.
"Where's Jack? Go get him."
Allen's voice was sharp and commanding. He stood firmly in the center of the room, surveying the aftermath of the attack.
Behind him stood two expressionless agents, likely his security detail.
"Jack's not here," Tony replied, stepping forward. "He was injured in the bombing—he's still in the hospital."
"Oh, I forgot," Allen muttered, shaking his head slightly. "Then who's in charge?"
Nina and Tony exchanged glances before Tony answered, "Uh… it's mostly me and Nina. I handle field operations; Nina oversees intelligence support."
Allen sighed and shrugged apologetically. "Fine, doesn't matter. I need to know—where is the suspect you captured last night? Salim Abu Aziz from Red Front?"
Tony looked to Nina, silently deferring to her since she had led the interrogation.
"He's still in the interrogation room," Nina confirmed. "We apprehended him after he attempted to assassinate Jack Bauer. Additionally, we suspect he possesses four nuclear warheads, though we haven't been able to confirm—"
Allen cut her off. "Enough. This case is over. Hand him over to me—I have other uses for him."
"But, Director—"
"Nina," Allen interrupted, his voice firm. "Your focus should be on Cruel Angel. I will personally handle Red Front. Is that clear?"
"…Yes, Director."
Nina had no choice but to comply. The authority in Allen's voice left no room for debate. The security team immediately moved to retrieve Salim.
Allen turned, observing the damaged walls and debris left by the attack.
Suddenly, a news bulletin played on the TV—President Brown's speech was about to begin.
Everyone instinctively turned toward the screen, eager to hear the President's stance.
"Turn it off," Allen ordered coldly.
Owen hesitated—the remote was right next to him.
"I said, turn it off!"
Allen's sudden outburst startled the entire room. Without another thought, Owen pressed the button, and the screen went dark.
A tense silence filled CTU.
Moments later, heavy footsteps echoed through the halls as two agents escorted Salim out, his head covered with a black hood.
One of Allen's bodyguards took custody of the prisoner.
Allen scanned the room one last time, his expression hard. "I'm deeply disappointed in the Los Angeles CTU. It has been over 24 hours since the attack, and you have yet to produce anything of value. I expect you to focus all efforts on Cruel Angel, rather than wasting time on Red Front and ridiculous nuclear bomb theories."
With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit.
His security detail followed, dragging Salim along.
Only when the doors closed behind them did everyone at CTU finally exhale.
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