In the corridor, Owen led Walker around a corner and pressed against the far wall. He listened intently—no movement. They darted across the hallway.
Originally, they'd planned to reach their destination again via the fireplace shaft, but fate had other ideas. Halfway through, they discovered that the passage had been sealed shut—and this time, completely. It had been bricked over. That fireplace had clearly been decommissioned long ago.
Owen cursed the outdated structural plans under his breath. He didn't know that the Yellow Room they were heading to had been repurposed for press briefings, and the fireplace was purely decorative. The shaft had been permanently sealed, but no one had bothered to update the schematics.
With the flue passage cut off, stairs were their only option. Fortunately, with Martin's walkie-talkie and the enemy's routine broadcasts, Owen had a rough idea of their positions. He cleverly avoided them and took another staircase up to the fifth floor.
Footsteps approached. Owen signaled Walker to stop, and they ducked into a side room, leaving the door ajar. The steps passed by without pausing. Once the coast was clear, Owen peeked out.
Close calls were becoming frequent. The enemy wasn't broadcasting their positions every second, and a few times, Owen had nearly collided with patrols—but his quick thinking had saved them every time.
…
In the surveillance room, Tyler was sucking on a lollipop while watching a progress bar inch toward completion—99% now. Just a sliver away from full access.
His heart pounded. His custom virus was battling the White House's top-tier security system—and winning. If he succeeded, he'd be the first hacker ever to crack it. If he failed, it would all be for nothing.
Ping. 100%. The screen displayed: Initializing…
Tyler whooped in excitement. He had done it. He had broken into the White House surveillance network.
While the system initialized, he couldn't resist taking a selfie—one that clearly captured him, the screen behind him displaying the initialization message, and the White House logo in the surveillance room. It would be his trophy for the hacker forums—though he'd edit his face out, of course.
Satisfied, he kissed the printed Polaroid and stuffed it into his pocket. The system finished initializing, and screen after screen came alive, previously locked feeds flickering back to life.
Lollipop in mouth, Tyler scanned the displays—until two figures caught his eye on one screen. Owen and Walker.
He wasn't a fighter, but he knew these two weren't part of their team. That could only mean one thing.
"Staz, I think I found them—the rat. No, two rats. Fifth floor, west wing, third corridor…"
He picked up the radio and reported their position immediately.
Staz hadn't responded yet, but Owen and Walker had already heard everything through their own walkie-talkie. One glance at the camera above, and Owen realized the enemy had regained visibility. He didn't know how, but they had.
Owen shot the camera without hesitation, and the two bolted. On the radio, Tyler's voice came through again: "They're listening on our channel…"
They didn't have time to worry about being exposed. Owen and Walker sprinted down the hall—caught completely off guard by the enemy's sudden eyes in the sky.
"They've left the third corridor, moving west—wait, they've entered a room—no, now they're heading east…"
Tyler's constant updates were pinning them down, no matter how many cameras they destroyed.
Walker cursed Tyler's female relatives loudly as they ran, but it didn't help their situation. They were being herded like cornered rats.
Rat-a-tat-tat—
Finally, the first enemy squad caught up, and they clashed. Owen's stamina was legendary, and Walker had once been a college quarterback. Their speed gave them just enough of a lead to avoid getting trapped—despite Tyler's continuous updates.
Owen immediately activated his "bullet time," dropping three enemies before they could even react. To his surprise, Walker's marksmanship wasn't half bad—he landed multiple hits. It made Owen reevaluate his earlier impression of the guy. Maybe Walker had been sandbagging.
Walker felt a surge of confidence. After getting dragged into conflict after conflict, he had spent time training his shooting. He hadn't expected it to work so well under pressure, but it did.
They took down the attackers and pushed on. Tyler, of course, reported every move, and Staz arrived moments later to find the bodies of his men.
These rats were far more dangerous than he'd imagined—and no mention of the President still. That nagging feeling grew stronger in Staz's chest.
"Fuck! After them! I want them alive—do you hear me? Alive!"
His fury turned into obsession. He had to confirm whether the President was still in the White House. That demand, however, inadvertently saved Owen and Walker's lives—each squad they encountered held back slightly, allowing the two to fight through.
"What now?" Walker gasped. Their situation was worse than ever. Several times, he'd thought he was done for—but somehow, he kept surviving. For Jennifer. For that White House wedding. I'm not dying here, he vowed.
"I'm heading for the hostages."
Owen answered without slowing. They no longer had access to the enemy's radio channels. The enemy had the upper hand with their restored surveillance—they were blind.
"Schul, go to the hostages. Kill one every three minutes. Rats—if you're listening, I don't know who you are, but you killed my men. And I want them avenged. Every hostage that dies is on you."
Staz's voice crackled through the radio. Owen and Walker skidded to a stop and exchanged a glance.
"Fuck, you're not actually falling for that, are you? He said that just for you!" Walker protested, seeing the flicker of resolve in Owen's eyes.
And he was right. The radio channel had long been changed—Staz had deliberately spoken on the old frequency. It was bait. Obvious bait. But Owen felt like he had no choice.
He couldn't just stand by while innocent hostages were slaughtered. The President was safe now. The only reason they were still here was to save those people.
Maybe… it was time to end this.
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