watched Arnold charge towards the sightseeing elevator on the other side, and Jack quickly followed.
While he was a little annoyed that his date with his two queens had been interrupted, this wasn't the time to dwell on that.
He couldn't remember where the bomb had gone off, but it was probably in the US. While he did have an underground shelter, it was better to avoid the world of nuclear war wasteland dramas like "Fallout."
His cheat code did grant him a number of vehicle driving skills, but Jack was certain they didn't include bipedal vehicles like power mechs.
There were three sightseeing elevators, arranged in an inverted triangle around the musical fountain on the shopping street. Jack waited until the third one opened, and the other two were already almost halfway up, one behind the other.
The hotel had about thirty floors, which wasn't too low, but even the slow sightseeing elevators took only a few minutes to get from the ground floor to the top.
"Hurry, find another elevator and go up to help Harry!" Among the CIA agents rushing up from downstairs, the thick-lipped, middle-aged, white, and overweight man was jumping up and down anxiously.
"Your partner will be fine," Zoe said, calmly stepping in front of him and flashing her ID. "I'm Senator Zoe Anderson. Would you like to talk to me about what's going on here?"
"Uh, Senator." The middle-aged, overweight man shrank his head, his expression a little aggrieved. "Do you think now is the time to discuss this?"
Zoe looked up at the three elevators nearing the rooftop, a strange expression on her face. "I don't know your knight partner, but I know my friend's abilities well. So, the most important thing for you and your people to do now is to immediately evacuate these onlookers downstairs."
—
"Get out! Everyone! Don't just stand there!" A large group of tourists, looking up in panic, were driven across the street by CIA agents brandishing pistols.
Two Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) cars arrived quickly, barely blocking traffic on both sides. Countless shards of glass rained down from the sky.
A motorcycle shattered the glass guardrail on the hotel's rooftop, piercing the night sky like the bicycle escaping gravity in the movie "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial."
Jack was probably the one who saw the scene most clearly. The balding Middle Eastern man, riding his motorcycle in a circle around the rooftop, let out a cry of terror, then crashed through the glass guardrail and soared into the building across the street.
The building across the street was only 12 stories high, but it had a swimming pool on top, where a large crowd was gathering for a party. The man, motorcycle and body, plunged headfirst into the pool, miraculously emerging unscathed.
Could this unidentified terrorist be a stuntman? Jack instinctively tried to press the button for the first floor again, but at that moment, the elevator reached the rooftop and the doors opened automatically.
Hearing a long horse neigh, Jack leaned out of the elevator and looked toward the rooftop. He saw "Arnold" control the horse and back it as far as possible from the broken guardrail. Then, with a loud "Gee!", he and his horse rushed out.
"No!" Jack had barely finished his words when the horse braked suddenly, stopping at the edge of the rooftop. Its horseshoes sparked on the concrete, and it flung the "bad guy" who was trying to carry it to his death.
"Oh no!"
"Arnold" was thrown off the rooftop, the immense momentum of his 200-plus pounds nearly dragging the Belgian horse, which weighed seven or eight times as much, down with him.
This terrifying scene caused the spectators below, who had been driven across the street, to gasp in surprise. Although they didn't know what was happening, their palms sweated as they followed Arnold, whose life hung by a thread.
Throwing away his pistol and grabbing the reins with both hands, Arnold looked up to see a massive horse's head facing him. Its long face held a seemingly human expression, as if mocking him.
"Please, back off!"
Arnold tried to use his horse language skill, asking the Metropolitan Police Department horse to pull him back.
However, the horse, already on its knees, remained motionless, neighing continuously.
Seeing the bridle holding the reins creak under the weight, Arnold felt a surge of despair.
"Are you okay?" Just then, a hand reached out from the rooftop, grasped the leather reins, and a handsome smile appeared.
Jack, crouching on the edge of the rooftop, slowly and forcefully lifted the reins, then grabbed Arnold's arm and, to his bewildered gaze, easily pulled him back to the rooftop.
"Thank God!" Arnold looked up and down at Jack, who was about his own height but a bit thinner, and wondered where he got such strength.
Glancing back at the building across from him, Arnold saw the man he was trying to capture had already climbed out of the pool and disappeared into the party crowd without a backward glance. He sighed helplessly and turned to look at the police horse, which had already stood up.
"What the hell were you thinking? I mean, the bad guy was right in front of us, and you just let him get away like that."
The police horse, which had been sweating from the chase earlier, neighed in dissatisfaction, turned away from the "bad guy" who had almost killed it, and enthusiastically licked the back of Jack's hand with its tongue.
"
Are you really not interested in this case? It's a terrifying threat involving four nuclear bombs." On the soft bed, Zoe was still obsessed with Jack, while Maureen, beside them, was the first to collapse from exhaustion and had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Jack rubbed his hand dishonestly over the congresswoman's smooth back and shook his head. "I'm really not interested. I just offended the CIA, and now I'm working for them. I'm afraid they'll get screwed."
"But technically, they're still part of your FBI. Have you heard of the Omega team?" Zoe whispered softly in his ear.
"No, didn't they introduce themselves as the CIA?" Jack asked doubtfully.
Zoe explained, "Omega Team was created by President Reagan during the Star Wars program. It was originally a CIA offshoot, known as the 'last line of defense.'
It later became a model for CIA-FBI collaboration that continues to this day. Their agents typically have dual identities: they work for the CIA when operating abroad and the FBI when operating domestically."
Jack expressed confusion. "Is this any different from the CIA's usual practices? Doesn't the CIA often operate domestically under the FBI's name?"
Zoe slapped someone's mischievous paw away, angrily saying, "The difference is that Omega Team is relatively independent, and their identities are recognized by the FBI, allowing them to operate independently."
(End of chapter)