The originally planned eight-week training program had flown by, with six weeks already behind him. Owen absorbed everything like a sponge, fully aware of how rare this opportunity was. He felt himself improving by leaps and bounds each day. However, his progress was interrupted by an unexpected call from Jack Bauer.
"Owen?"
"I'm here, Jack. Is something wrong?"
"I'm afraid so. Your training has to be cut short. Joshua's been injured—he walked into an ambush while investigating a case. He's in the hospital now. We also have other incidents cropping up, and we're short on manpower. You'll need to return early."
"Understood. I'll book a flight for this afternoon."
"No need. We've already got you a ticket—tomorrow morning at 8 AM. You'll land in L.A. by 4 PM. The training center has been notified."
"Got it. I'll see you tomorrow then."
Joshua was a member of the field operations team under Tony's command, the same unit Owen was assigned to. Since Owen had left for training almost immediately after joining, he barely knew most of his colleagues.
Hanging up the phone, Owen noticed the other trainees staring at him. He gave them a sheepish grin.
"You're leaving?" Donald approached him with curiosity.
"Yeah, I have to head back early."
"No worries, man. You'll be on the fast track to CTU status. The rest of us don't even know where we'll end up yet."
Donald sounded a bit envious. Unlike CIA trainees, Owen had joined CTU with a confirmed post in L.A.'s Counter-Terrorism Unit. CIA trainees wouldn't learn their assignments until after completing the program. They could be deployed anywhere in the country—or even across the globe.
The trainees and Instructor Maury gathered to say their goodbyes. Donald, usually full of jokes, seemed unusually serious. Not wanting to drag the mood down, Owen laughed and said, "Come on, guys, no need to get all sentimental. Let's meet at the usual spot tonight. Drinks are on me. And hey, if anyone manages to outdrink me, maybe I'll stay!"
"You said it!" Donald shouted.
Everyone burst into laughter, and the mood lightened.
The next morning, Owen climbed into a transport car headed for the airport. Since the Lasvia training facility was isolated, there were no taxis nearby. Just as when he had arrived, the base arranged transportation for departing trainees.
After a short drive, Owen reached the airport. He boarded his flight and, after sleeping through most of the journey, landed at Los Angeles International Airport in the early afternoon.
At baggage claim, he retrieved his suitcase and made his way out of the terminal. His friend Carlos had planned to pick him up but had to cancel at the last minute due to a work emergency. Owen wasn't upset—he understood how demanding law enforcement work could be. He had frequently been called away on urgent cases when he was with the LAPD's Major Crimes Division.
Owen hailed a taxi and headed for CTU headquarters. Unfortunately, they soon found themselves stuck in a massive traffic jam. The taxi driver switched on the radio, and Owen learned that a major failure in the East District's traffic signal system had caused multiple accidents, leading to gridlock across the entire area.
As time passed, the congestion spread to other parts of the city. Looking back, Owen saw a long line of cars stretching endlessly behind them. Drivers were honking in frustration, but the traffic didn't budge. Some people turned off their engines, resigned to wait.
"This must be the 'emergency' Carlos mentioned," Owen thought. He knew that in such a situation, every available officer would be deployed to manage traffic. Without intervention, the entire city could grind to a halt.
After an hour of crawling forward in small increments, the traffic finally began to move at a reasonable pace. The driver, muttering curses under his breath, drove on. About twenty minutes later, they reached CTU headquarters.
Owen paid the exorbitant fare—three times the usual amount—and stepped out of the taxi. As he stood outside the familiar three-story building, he felt a strange sense of detachment. Although it had only been a month and a half, it felt like much longer since he'd last been here.
Pulling his suitcase behind him, Owen showed his ID to the guards at the entrance and was allowed inside. The atmosphere inside was as tense and fast-paced as ever. People hurried back and forth, their faces filled with urgency. Being in this environment instantly put Owen on edge.
It didn't take long before he spotted Jack Bauer in the main hall, barking orders.
"Chloe! Have you made contact with Miami CTU?"
"Not yet, Jack..."
"Keep trying. Isa, notify the CIA and FBI. We need their assistance with the Cruel Angel investigation."
"Understood. I'll reach out to them immediately."
As Jack continued issuing commands, he caught sight of Owen approaching.
"Owen!"
"Hey, Jack. I'm back. The traffic outside was insane, so..."
"I understand. Tony and his team left two hours ago and still haven't reached their destination because of this traffic mess."
"What's going on?" Owen asked, sensing that something serious was happening.
Jack's expression darkened. "A few days ago, we helped Miami CTU apprehend several members of a new group called 'Cruel Angel.' We still don't know what their objectives are. An hour ago, the FBI informed us that Miami CTU was hit by a bomb attack. Director McGuire and several senior officers were killed. Over 70% of their personnel were either killed or injured. No group or individual has claimed responsibility, but I suspect it's the work of Cruel Angel."
Jack's rapid-fire explanation mirrored his no-nonsense approach to operations. Owen, however, was left stunned.
"A bomb attack... on a CTU office?" he repeated in disbelief. "That's a direct provocation!"
Miami CTU served the entire state of Florida, Owen recalled. He had learned that CTU offices were responsible for large regions. The L.A. branch, for instance, oversaw counter-terrorism operations across all of California.
Now, one of their sister offices had been decimated in an act of terror. The threat was real—and closer than ever.
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