With Monica joining the assault team, they barely had enough personnel to pull it off.
Ghost finalized the assignments: "Here's the plan—Owen and I will be the point. After we eliminate the lower-deck hijackers, Heartbeat will log their positions. Then the rest of you will take the service elevator to the upper deck. During the breach, Owen and I will eliminate the first two hijackers. Heartbeat, you'll handle the second two and ensure the lower deck is clear of any hidden threats. Can Opener and IQ, stay behind us at the curtain divider. Watch for hijackers disguised among passengers. Leave the rest to Owen and me."
It was a solid plan, adapted to the situation, and paired each lead with a trusted partner—no gaps in trust, only execution.
"Copy."
…
After confirming, Owen and Ghost opened two slits in the curtain, just wide enough for one person to pass. As Ghost was about to call the breach—
"Wait," Owen interrupted.
"What's wrong?"
"Jennifer, can you get to the elevator on the second deck and hold position? Warn us if anyone comes."
It was a last-second realization from Owen. Since the team wasn't taking the stairs, they'd use the cramped galley elevator. But if a hijacker was stationed nearby, and spotted them mid-ascent, it would be a bloodbath.
"Okay."
Jennifer agreed and, after a brief word with Walker, gestured to the hijacker, asking to head upstairs. The man assumed she had a task and let her pass.
On the upper deck near the elevator, Jennifer feigned busyness. Seeing no one around, she whispered into her earpiece, "Second-deck elevator is clear."
The team was ready and waiting. At her report, Ghost gave the order: "Go."
At the far end of economy class, two shadows appeared without warning. Pfft-pfft—the silenced weapons did their job. The two aisle-standing hijackers didn't even react before collapsing in blood.
To be sure they weren't wearing body armor, Ghost and Owen had aimed for head and torso alike—no chances taken.
"Shhh…"
They raised their hands for silence. Startled passengers stifled their screams. Can Opener rushed forward, pointing to the U.S. flag on his shoulder.
"Hands on the seatbacks in front of you. Do as we say—don't make us misread your intent."
He spoke softly but firmly, eyes sharp. One wrong move from any passenger, and he'd shoot.
Monica checked the bodies—no armor.
After brief panic, the economy cabin settled. The American flag held authority. Passengers complied, many overcome with relief. No one knew how the rescuers got onboard, but clearly, salvation was near.
Meanwhile, Heartbeat ran to the front with his MP7—the only one on the team. The others had MP5-Ns, far less powerful. MP7s weren't ideal inside aircraft due to overpenetration risk, but now, it was saving lives. Heartbeat aimed, squeezed the trigger. Clink, clink—brass hit the carpet. Soon, one red marker disappeared from his scanner.
Target down.
He moved to track the next—but it vanished.
"Shit, I lost one! One confirmed down, second target disappeared!" Heartbeat shouted over comms.
Upstairs, Ghost and Owen were already advancing with rapid tactical steps.
"Copy," Ghost responded, still moving. Plans never survived contact with reality.
Though urgent, they kept to combat protocol. Movement had to stay tight and clean. Speed without control risked mistakes under fire.
Hearing Heartbeat's report, Owen quickly deduced the "missing" target was likely the one Jennifer had taken out earlier—ironic, but helpful. A silent kill was always welcome.
Advancing, Owen and Ghost swept each aisle. With overlapping 180° vision, they watched for movement.
Pfft-pfft-pfft!
Behind Owen, Ghost laid down a burst—dropping a man trying to rise from the floor, spraying him with blood.
That should've been Monica's job, but Ghost had been faster. In chaos, no one could pause to ask who should've taken the shot. Anyone standing was now assumed to be hostile—executed on sight.
Owen advanced, every few steps entering his slow-motion "bullet time." It gave him precious fractions of a second to react—he used it constantly.
Suddenly, a lavatory door opened.
In bullet time, Owen saw a man exiting, stunned to see him, and reaching for his waist. The expression on his face was vivid, inhumanly clear. No hesitation.
Pfft-pfft-pfft!
The man stumbled back, riddled with bullets. As his body fell, a pistol clattered out of his waistband. Owen didn't break stride—he kicked the gun aside and charged on.
They had cleared the first section. Moving past the curtain into section two, Owen's aisle was clear. On Ghost's side, one body was already down—Heartbeat's earlier shot.
Monica and Can Opener stayed behind, guarding the divider against rear attacks.
The passenger cabin grew chaotic. Some realized what was happening—others were panicked. Near the downed hijackers, one man screamed at the sight of a head blown open. Instinct overrode reason.
Up ahead, more targets.
Several people stood up suddenly—hidden hijackers scattered across the second cabin. Owen's MP5 mag ran dry after downing the first—he ditched it without pause and drew his SIG P226.
Both Owen and Ghost fired together, catching the group mid-rise. Ghost took out one, but the second resisted—Ghost's bullet didn't land cleanly. The hijacker returned fire, grazing Ghost.
Pfft-pfft-pfft!
Owen put him down with a shot to the skull. The body slumped beside the others. No time to check on Ghost—he pressed on.
The real danger lay ahead.
Up until now, they'd struck before the hijackers could respond. But the VIP area and cockpit would be ready. Owen was in a race against the clock.
He burst through the curtain. Bullet time triggered again.
There—Najib Harvey standing in VIP, Uzi raised. Aiming straight at Owen.
Owen fired first.
A red dot blossomed between Harvey's eyebrows—9mm tore through his brain, liquefying it.
Harvey fired as he fell—Uzi rounds screamed past Owen's cheek, shredding the curtain behind him. A passenger behind screamed—a bullet had found flesh.
Owen didn't have time to marvel at his luck or grieve the hit passenger. Killing Harvey wasn't the end. Securing the cockpit was.
Only one hijacker remained—likely the most dangerous.
Owen sprinted through the empty VIP cabin—Harvey had sent the others away earlier. Now, only the cockpit stood between him and mission success.
The door was open. From his angle, Owen saw a hijacker grabbing the co-pilot as a human shield, dragging him toward the door, gun aimed to slam it shut.
No—he couldn't let this fail now.
Owen surged forward, but his foot slipped.
Inside the cockpit, the captain had heard the gunfire. Seeing the hijacker take a hostage, he didn't hesitate.
He yanked the yoke. The plane entered a steep climb.
Everyone not strapped down was thrown back—Owen, the hijacker, the hostage.
Owen tumbled—his aim ruined. But bullet time saved him. He saw the hijacker falling, shielded behind the co-pilot—but not completely.
A head peeked out.
Owen fired.
The 9mm round spiraled through the air, caught by the tumbling cabin's momentum—still it found its mark.
The bullet drilled into the terrorist's skull. He dropped.
THUD! Owen hit the floor hard. The steep climb continued, sending him rolling through the VIP area. He curled up, shielding his head, and slammed against a seat.
Then—stabilization. The plane leveled.
Bruised and winded, Owen gasped into his mic: "Cockpit secured."
All over the plane, CTU operatives collapsed in relief.
They had done it.
They had succeeded.
------------------
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
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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