The next few days were eerily quiet, as if everything that had happened before was just a bad dream. The mercenaries had vanished, and no matter how hard CTU searched, they couldn't find a single trace.
The FBI had anticipated an attack on the prison, setting up an enormous security net. But nothing happened.
The Humvee lead also went cold. Yesterday, Arizona CTU reported that the two Irish brothers had been brutally murdered in their garage. Their bodies had been left undiscovered for so long that they were already decomposing by the time authorities arrived.
The investigation hit a dead end. Just as everyone was running out of options, Dominic passed a message to Owen—one of his car modification friends had received a job to repaint a Humvee.
CTU mobilized immediately, surrounding the repair shop within twenty minutes. Inside, the yellow Humvee's new paint job was only halfway done. Owen recognized it instantly—it was the same one the mercenaries had used. The damage to the front end from the previous collision was still visible.
CTU's tactical team and field agents approached with extreme caution. They had already seen firsthand what these mercenaries were capable of.
The team split into groups, carefully searching every corner of the shop. Owen was at the front alongside the tactical unit, but after a thorough sweep, they only found one young Black man.
"Where are they?"
Tony didn't bother with formalities. Since they were among their own people, he simply drove his knee into the young man's stomach. The CTU field team had always operated with a heavy hand—this tradition dated back to Jack Bauer's time as head of the field unit.
The young man let out a pained grunt, unable to struggle. His arms were restrained behind his back by Joshua.
Surrounded by heavily armed CTU agents, the young man was visibly terrified. These people looked like they were ready to execute him on the spot.
"I… I don't know…"
His voice trembled. Seeing Tony raise his fist again, he recoiled in fear and immediately spilled everything he knew.
"I… I just found the car on the side of the road, I swear! When I saw it, it was just sitting there, doors wide open, keys still inside. I… I thought someone abandoned it. I just wanted to take it for a ride…"
Tony, frustrated, lowered his fist. The young man didn't seem to be lying. It was just his bad luck—he had picked the wrong car to steal.
Joshua shoved him into a vehicle. Even if his story was true, he still needed to be interrogated by CTU's intelligence team. They might even put him through a polygraph test.
The team returned to CTU in low spirits. All that effort, and they had nothing to show for it.
The Humvee was transported back to CTU for analysis. Despite the setback, Dominic had done them a favor. Owen called him to express his gratitude before heading back with the rest of the team.
Back at CTU, Owen removed his gear and stored it in his locker. He had been expecting a firefight, but instead, they had only captured a petty car thief. The anticlimax left him feeling strangely empty.
Looking around, he saw that Chloe's team in data analysis was just as overwhelmed as the field agents. While the field teams were out chasing leads, Chloe and her analysts had to monitor massive amounts of data and process intel coming in from the NSA.
Jack Bauer had been acting mysterious lately. He was rarely around, and no one knew what he was up to.
Owen noticed the dark circles under Chloe's eyes, so he made her a cup of coffee and brought it over.
"Neymar, set up a Level 3 filter for sorting the NSA intel," Chloe ordered without looking up.
She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't even notice Owen standing behind her.
Nearby, Nina and Isha were having a conversation.
"How's the facial recognition system coming along?"
"Not great, Nina. Stanford says there's a major bug in the algorithm. It has a fundamental flaw, and they're working on a fix. But it'll take time, so it's unusable for now."
"Damn it…"
Chloe swore under her breath as well.
Facial recognition had been invaluable during the last operation. Without it, CTU wouldn't have been able to locate Owen in the crowded streets of Hollywood so quickly.
But the technology was still unreliable and resource-intensive. The data team had planned to use it to track down the mercenaries, but of all times, the system crashed. Even after contacting Stanford's tech team, they still hadn't been able to fix it.
Owen placed the coffee on Chloe's desk, and only then did she notice him.
"Oh, thanks. You're so thoughtful…"
She was too busy to even take a break, continuing to type while talking to him.
Owen glanced around. Nina had walked off, and the others were too preoccupied to notice them.
Leaning in slightly, he whispered just two words: "The mole."
Chloe understood immediately. She glanced around discreetly before typing something into a notepad program on her screen:
"No leads yet. Still observing…"
After Owen read it, she closed the notepad.
Owen shrugged and walked away, feeling frustrated. He still had no idea what he and Jack's mole-hunting plan actually was, and so far, it didn't seem to be working.
With no new intel, Tony gathered the field agents for a shooting practice session in the underground range. This was one of Jack Bauer's direct orders—Owen was to share some of the techniques he had learned during his SWAT training.
Jack was a man of action. Everything had to be done fast and efficiently. Anyone who was slow or hesitant had already been weeded out of CTU long ago.
During his time with SWAT, Owen had learned a lot: Heatwave's quick-draw techniques and breaching tactics, Monica's sharpshooting, Ash's military Krav Maga, Nicholas's reconnaissance skills, Campbell's tactical commands and teamwork strategies, and Morris's riot shield techniques.
He hadn't mastered everything, but he firmly believed in the saying: The more skills you have, the better.
Thinking about his SWAT teammates, many of whom were no longer alive, left Owen with a heavy heart.
Since returning to CTU, he had only visited Campbell in the hospital once. He hadn't checked in with the others since. Maybe after this case, he'd take some time to see them again—he missed those days training together.
The underground shooting range wasn't large, so he focused on a few key shooting techniques for the team.
Everyone listened intently. Survival skills were always in high demand, and Owen had earned his reputation as one of the strongest field agents.
The most focused among them was Heartbeat.
Most agents had only seen Owen's marksmanship through security footage, but Heartbeat had experienced it firsthand.
No video could truly capture the impact of seeing enemy after enemy drop dead, one after another.
In battle, Owen moved like a phantom. Whoever faced him died—every time.
He was faster than his enemies. More accurate. More aware.
And with Monica covering him, they were unstoppable.
For a brief moment, Heartbeat had witnessed what it meant to own the battlefield.
Owen wasn't just a skilled shooter—he was death incarnate, mercilessly cutting down his enemies.
And that kind of presence left a deep mark on anyone who saw it firsthand.
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