While Owen and Swag were covertly tailing Denzel Payton, somewhere in a remote part of Los Angeles, a vehicle slowly came to a stop.
Nina sat inside, nervously watching Colonel Johnson seated beside her. She cautiously said, "I've done everything you asked. It's all taken care of. There's nothing left for me to do, right? Can I have the rest of the money now? I need to get out of L.A. immediately…"
As she spoke, she carefully studied the colonel's expression. He didn't seem angry or suspicious. Lighting a cigar, he calmly exhaled a ring of smoke. "Of course. The money's in the trunk. I'll get it for you."
He stepped out of the car, and Nina followed, though her hand never strayed far from the small of her back. Everyone knew what was tucked behind her waistband, but Johnson didn't seem to mind. He popped the trunk and pulled out a duffel bag, tossing it at her feet. Inside, stacks of fresh U.S. bills glowed green.
So they weren't planning to screw her over.
Still, her hand hovered near her gun. She had expected things to get ugly, especially since she no longer held any value to them.
"You bring the stuff I asked for? The ones we'll use to frame Owen?" the colonel asked.
"Of course."
Nina tossed him her handbag. Johnson caught it and fished out a Glock 22 in a plastic evidence bag.
"This is Owen's service pistol."
Johnson examined it closely. "You're sure?"
"Absolutely. I also brought his fingerprints…"
She pulled out a sealed pouch containing two adhesive fingerprint strips.
The colonel nodded, satisfied. "Good. We're square, then. Want me to give you a lift to the airport?"
"No need. Someone's picking me up."
"Alright. Hope we work together again someday."
With that, he passed the gun and prints to one of his men and climbed back into the car. Without another word, they drove off, leaving Nina alone with her duffel bag of cash.
She didn't relax until the vehicle disappeared around a corner. Only then did she exhale deeply. She had been expecting a bullet to the back at any second. Apparently, she'd been too paranoid.
Dragging the heavy bag of money, she trudged down the road. Her earlier claim that someone was coming to pick her up was a lie—she didn't trust anyone anymore. All she needed now was to hitch a ride.
But the area was desolate. Not a single car had passed for ages. The duffel was heavy, but she refused to part with it. In her eyes, it was her passport to a better life.
As she turned a corner, she suddenly saw a familiar face—one of Johnson's men—standing there with Owen's Glock aimed at her.
Bang! Bang bang!
Before she could react, shots rang out. Pain exploded in her chest. She staggered and collapsed, falling across her beloved pile of cash. Her final thought: I regret everything...
By the roadside, Colonel Johnson watched as his man fired a few more shots into her. Then he wiped the gun clean and applied the fingerprint stickers to the grip and trigger.
The gun was tossed beside Nina's body. The man picked up the bag of cash, and the team climbed into their car and drove away.
Inside the moving vehicle, the colonel made a call.
"Yes… It's all been arranged. The fingerprints and the weapon both belong to the CTU agent. You can move in now…"
…
Meanwhile, Owen had no idea he was being framed for murder. He was still deeply concerned with the current operation.
Denzel Payton's vehicle had driven into increasingly remote areas. They had left the city completely. Fewer and fewer cars were on the road—sometimes none for miles.
Owen and Swag hadn't expected this. How could they keep following without being noticed? They were the only car behind him now.
They exchanged uneasy glances. Denzel must have realized they were tailing him. They had followed every turn—no way someone as cautious as him wouldn't notice.
Up ahead was a gas station with a small convenience store. Denzel seemed to suspect something. His car slowed and pulled into the lot.
Now came another choice: follow or keep driving?
Owen chose to keep moving. No sudden moves. Just then, his phone rang—it was Becky.
"What is it?" Owen answered.
"Owen, you've been flagged—you're wanted."
"What?"
"You're on the FBI's most wanted list. Accused of murdering CTU logistics agent Nina Myers."
"…What?!"
Owen was stunned.
"The news says your service weapon and fingerprints were found at the scene. You've officially been charged and a warrant has been issued."
"Goddamn it—they're framing me. Wait… did you notify the police about the bodies at the previous site?"
Owen had asked Becky to alert authorities about the bodies and landmines—hoping something more could be uncovered. But Becky's reply was even more alarming.
"I did. But the FBI took over. And you know what they said? That when their team arrived, all they found were bloodstains, bits of flesh, and those mines. No weapons. No bodies. The only thing left was the M2HB…"
Fuck!
Owen felt a wave of despair. Someone had cleaned up the site—or the FBI had insiders involved. That many weapons and corpses didn't just vanish into thin air.
"Anyway, Owen, what are you going to do now?" Becky asked anxiously.
"Forget that for now. Can you get me satellite access?"
Owen knew he needed eyes in the sky. This rural highway had no CCTV. In the city, he'd rely on traffic cams—but out here, his only hope was a satellite.
"Satellite? Um… yeah. I can. But… I'll have to do a few illegal things."
Becky's tone was hesitant but determined.
Clicking and clacking filled the line. Owen could picture her frantically typing away.
Then a loud snap echoed—her signature finger snap—and she returned to the line with a proud grin in her voice.
"Done. I've hijacked satellite control. Where do you want it pointed?"
Owen glanced around. In the rush to tail Denzel, he hadn't paid attention to the route markers. Swag chimed in helpfully, "Northbound County Route, 70 kilometers west of Lank."
Owen repeated the coordinates, and Becky replied, "Got it. One issue though—the satellite's current orbit doesn't cover your location. I'll need to adjust the trajectory."
"How long?"
"About 20 minutes."
Owen considered, then nodded. "Alright. Let me know once it's overhead. I'll stall them for 20 minutes."
He hung up. On the other end, Becky got to work. Hijacking a satellite was stealthy enough—but altering its trajectory? That would trigger alerts at the NSA. She needed to set up some serious backdoors and ghost traces.
While she worked, Owen made his own preparations.
He ripped his jacket in half and handed one side to Swag. Together, they wrapped the cloth around their faces.
Yes—he planned to impersonate a pair of armed robbers and hold up the gas station.
It was the only distraction he could think of on such short notice.
—
Thanks to Phantom Pain Alliance Leader for the second update. Salute to Captain Huan Teng. More coming later!
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