Dinner was a joyful affair. The whole family laughed and chatted together. Although not everything about SEAL training was open for discussion, Owen still shared what he could, and only then did they truly realize how grueling his experience had been.
"Oh, my little Steve…"
His mother, overwhelmed by the hardships Owen described, was overcome with maternal emotion and held him tightly, tears running down her face.
"It's okay, Mom. I'm fine now, and I passed everything. Your son's the best…"
"Yes, my son is the best."
His mother smiled proudly. Though her lashes were still wet with tears, her smile came from the heart.
Any mother would feel heartbroken to hear how much her son had suffered. But when they heard their child had accomplished what few could, they would be equally filled with pride.
"Thank you, Mr. McCall, for looking after my family while I was away."
Owen raised his wine glass in heartfelt gratitude.
"No, no, this wasn't anything. Isn't it a knight's duty to protect the princess?"
McCall also raised his glass and joked in return.
Owen was touched, and a glance at his mother showed she clearly enjoyed that kind of chivalrous talk.
After dinner, McCall went home. Owen, his mother, and Amanda sat on the couch watching TV. To be honest, he hadn't watched television in ages. Ever since he went to Colorado, he hadn't even glanced at a screen.
The three of them chatted and watched together, enjoying the warmth of a cozy evening.
By a little past ten, his mother grew tired and got up to head to bed. Amanda was off to the side, phone in hand, chatting with some boy.
"I'm sleepy. I'll head to bed. Owen, aren't you going to sleep yet?"
She asked out of habit before leaving.
"Uh… you go ahead. I'll stay up a bit longer…"
Hearing Owen's hesitant response, his mother took two steps and suddenly realized, "Oh! I forgot—you haven't seen Monica yet, have you? You don't have to sleep here tonight, it's fine…"
With a chuckle, she walked away, and Owen gave a wry smile. He had planned to slip out quietly after everyone had gone to bed, but apparently his mother had caught on.
Since she approved, there was no need to hesitate. Owen grabbed his coat and headed out. A short while later, the sound of a car engine could be heard driving away.
Twenty minutes later, Monica's door was knocked on.
Knock knock knock knock...
He soon heard footsteps descending the stairs.
"Who is it?"
Owen could hear the quiet click of a pistol being cocked.
"Sweetheart, it's me…"
"Ahhh~~~"
Monica clearly recognized his voice and was filled with delight.
The sound of the lock turning came quickly, and moments later, the door opened. Monica stood in her pajamas at the entrance, long wavy hair cascading down, beaming at Owen. The only incongruous thing was the pistol still dangling from her hand.
Their eyes met, and Monica's welled with tears.
"Darling, I was going to climb in through your window, but I was afraid you might accidentally shoot me~~~"
"Owen, I missed you so much~~~~"
Before Owen could finish, Monica had already leapt into his arms, throwing herself at him and kissing him deeply. Her long legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
Oh god, oh god~~~
Owen felt like he'd just been ignited. Forget everything else—he carried Monica into the house, barely remembering to shut the door behind them.
The world shook and dimmed around him. Owen felt like he was back on the training range in Colorado, unloading his ammo to the fullest…
Half an hour later, Monica lay on Owen's chest, drawing lazy circles with her fingers.
"Are all special forces this powerful? Owen, I don't think I can handle you anymore…"
Those words were the ultimate marital aphrodisiac. Just when everything had calmed down, Owen stirred again. Feeling the change beneath her, Monica's eyes widened in shock.
"No—wait, Owen—ah…"
…
The next morning, Monica tried to get up for work, only to find she could barely walk. She had to call in sick. Seeing Owen still sound asleep beside her, she gave him a few angry kicks. It was her own fault for barely sleeping all night.
Owen stayed motionless, playing dead. He was more than happy for Monica to stay home with him. It had been almost ten months since they last saw each other. The fact that Monica had waited for him—that was rare in America.
Otherwise, so many soldiers wouldn't come home from boot camp only to find their girlfriends had left.
With Monica immobile, Owen felt proud. After enduring a few eye-rolls from her, he obediently went outside to get the newspaper from the lawn.
The paperboy had already tossed it onto the grass. As Owen went to pick it up, he bumped into old lady Lucy across the street. She gave him a thumbs-up—whether or not she'd heard something last night was unclear.
Back inside, Owen rummaged through the fridge and found some eggs and ham. He made scrambled eggs with ham for the two of them and also freshly squeezed some orange juice. Carrying it all on a tray, he returned to Monica's bedroom.
Seeing Owen walk in with breakfast, Monica felt a wave of warmth inside. Her adoptive parents used to treat her like this too—it had made others envious. But ever since their passing, such warmth had disappeared from her life.
Owen placed the tray before her, and Monica gave him a sweet kiss, taking a sip of the juice with a satisfied smile.
Then Owen pulled out a small purple flower like a magician and gently tucked it behind her ear. Monica smiled, teasing him, "Lucy's gonna blow a fuse. She really treasures those flowers she grows…"
"Uh… she won't call the cops, will she?"
"You never know, hahaha~~~~"
Seeing Owen's awkward look, Monica burst into laughter.
…
They stayed in the house all day. By evening, Monica had recovered enough to move around. After a few more rounds of shameless affection, they finally headed out.
At the Olive Tree Bar—
A group of people were gathered around a table, cheering loudly.
ASH, Reche, Heartbeat, Campbell, and Bryan—aside from Sam and his crew, the entire group who'd gone to Colombia to rescue Monica was nearly all there.
Among the crowd, Owen and Bryan were at opposite ends of the table, locked in an arm-wrestling match.
Their arms bulged with muscle, veins standing out as the table creaked under the strain.
BAM!
With a low growl, Owen slammed Bryan's arm onto the table.
"Whooohooo~~~~"
Owen let out a bizarre cry, rolling up his sleeves like a bodybuilder and flexing his biceps in front of everyone. The group around him erupted in cheers.
Bryan laughed, shaking out his hand. "You've gotten really strong, kid. Looks like that SEAL training paid off…"
"Of course~"
Owen flexed again in an exaggerated pose, grinning proudly. He had just beaten Campbell, Reche, and Heartbeat—Bryan was the final opponent.
Ha! In arm wrestling, he was undefeated.
Eight months of SEAL torture hadn't been in vain. At least in strength and endurance, he could crush everyone here.
With Owen the undisputed champ, Campbell and Heartbeat went off to shoot some pool, while Owen and Bryan grabbed a beer and found a quiet spot to talk.
"How've you been lately?"
"Not bad. Sam introduced me to a bunch of his clients—good money, but I have to travel."
"Bodyguard gigs?"
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"Yeah, short-term security details. Risky, but well paid…"
Owen nodded. That's how the security business worked. Domestic gigs paid less but were safer. You had to travel abroad to make real money—though it was far more dangerous, sometimes fatally so.
"What about Sam and the others?"
He asked about the rest of the group. Though he met them through Bryan, they had become close friends—after what they went through together in Colombia, they were like family.
"They've switched over. Hardly do security anymore. Most of their gigs come my way now. They're doing PMC work."
"Private military contractors?"
"Yeah. Sam has some Pentagon contacts, so he gets a few jobs…"
"They hiring or doing the work themselves?"
"Doing it themselves. Still getting started…"
"Hope they stay safe."
Owen clinked glasses with Bryan and took a long drink.
This was the first he'd heard that Sam and the others had gone into PMC work. Before going to the SEALs, he'd actually wanted to introduce Sam's team to Beth, who was trying to form her own security team. But that clearly wasn't going to happen now.
PMC jobs paid well but were risky. Most of the time they handled reconnaissance tasks, but that didn't mean they weren't dangerous.
Even with Sam's team being ex-Rangers, anything could happen. On the battlefield, even elite SEAL Team Six or Delta Force operators could die from a stray bullet.
Thinking of Beth, Owen said, "I have a wealthy friend. She was looking to form her own security team a while back and needed a core leader. Maybe I should recommend you."
It had just popped into his mind. Bryan would be more than qualified to be Beth's head of security. He just wasn't sure if she'd already found someone.
"Thanks, I'd appreciate that."
Owen waved it off casually. He tried calling Beth, but her phone was off. He shrugged—maybe another time.
"Forget about them. What about you? Why not quit and join me in running a security company?"
Bryan was clearly trying to recruit him.
Owen laughed and teased, "Looks like business is booming. Thinking of expanding already?"
There was no way he'd quit to do security work. If he were going to do that, he might as well have said yes to Beth from the start. He didn't need the money, and CTU treated him well. He liked his current life.
Besides, Jack Bauer had just gotten him into SEAL training. If he turned around and quit CTU right after, that would be incredibly ungrateful.
"Okay, I get it. You're not leaving CTU. I was just kidding. Oh, by the way—I heard you're going to a premiere tonight…"
"How'd you know?"
"Ken told me. Amanda invited her."
As it happened, Owen's return coincided perfectly. Yesterday, Universal had informed him that the Die Hard premiere was tonight and sent him several tickets.
In both his lives, Owen had never been to a movie premiere before. He was quite curious about it.
At first, he couldn't believe it had happened so fast. But then he remembered—he'd been at the SEAL base for eight months. Die Hard had started filming before he left for Colorado. So really, it wasn't that fast after all.
The premiere was held at a Universal theater in a busy part of Los Angeles. Owen and the others arrived just in time.
Universal gave him four tickets—two for him and Monica, two for his mother and Amanda. But his mother said she didn't care for such events, so Amanda came with Ken instead.
Their seats were together. When Owen and Monica arrived, Amanda and Ken were already seated. Ken excitedly greeted Owen—she would never forget how he and her father had rescued them from danger in France.
To her, he was just like her father—a true hero.
Their seats weren't in the front but weren't too far back either. After all, Owen was one of the screenwriters—and the inspiration behind the story—so Universal gave him some special treatment.
Unfortunately, there had been a prior agreement between CTU and Universal. The film could be made, but Owen's name wasn't allowed to appear in it—not even during post-release promotions.
That's why, even though the real Zhongchen Tower incident involved him and John McClane, the movie merged them into a single character. At first, Owen thought that was his own doing in the script. Later, he learned it was a CTU condition—for the safety of their agents.
In this line of work, keeping a low profile was critical. For one's own safety—and one's family.
More and more people entered the theater, and the premiere was about to begin. Owen was a little excited. After all, the movie was based on the Zhongchen Tower incident, and he had written the script himself.
Other than the title and cast, the plot was quite different from the version in his past life. What the final result would be—well, that was up to fate.
He spotted many familiar faces. This section of the theater was reserved for cast and crew. People from Universal he had worked with, other screenwriters who had helped him refine the script, and even the assistant director who had once mistaken him for an extra and made him play a background role.
But there was no sign of John McClane. Word was, he was going through a divorce. No one knew what happened in the end. But knowing him, even if everything was fine, he probably wouldn't bother flying from the East Coast to the West Coast just for a movie premiere.
As the time approached, special guests began arriving and taking their front-row seats.
Each one entering sparked waves of excitement and cheers, though Owen didn't recognize most of them. Amanda and Ken, however, were clearly thrilled. Seeing Owen's blank look, they excitedly filled him in on the stars' backgrounds.
Monica, on the other hand, couldn't care less about the entertainment industry. Celebrities didn't even register on her radar.
Owen had long noticed this. Monica wasn't like most girls. The usual star-chasing held no interest for her—she preferred shooting and painting, which made her rather unique.
The lights dimmed—the premiere was starting.
The host came out to warm up the crowd. None of the four had ever been to a premiere, so even the warm-up felt entertaining.
Once the atmosphere was right, the host invited the production team onstage.
The director and core crew went up. Naturally, there was no place for a minor screenwriter like Owen—he watched from his seat. The team shared fun behind-the-scenes stories and interacted with fans, as camera flashes went off in every direction.
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