Counterterrorism in America

Staying at the station quickly became boring for Owen, so he decided to visit McClane in the hospital. George had mentioned that McClane's gunshot wound wasn't serious, just a superficial injury. It was the perfect opportunity to check on his new friend.

Owen wasted no time. After retrieving his car from the parking lot, he drove straight to the hospital. In the hospital's parking lot, he grabbed a bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat and got out. To his surprise, he bumped into Bob.

They had met the previous night. Owen was grateful to Bob, the expert sniper who had saved his life, though they hadn't had much time to talk before Jack Bauer took them to CTU.

"Hey, Bob. What brings you here?" Owen greeted.

"Hey, Steve. I'm here to check on some of the injured SWAT guys. You?"

"I'm here to see McClane."

"Ah, I see."

"Hey, Bob, do you have time tonight? I was thinking of inviting you for a drink at Wildcat Bar. It's near the station."

Bob shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, Steve. I'm heading back this afternoon—emergency orders from the military. I'm here just to say my goodbyes."

"No problem. That's how it is with the military. I get it. But next time you're in L.A., you owe me that drink."

"Definitely. I'll look forward to it."

With a ding, the elevator reached their floor. The two men stepped out and went their separate ways after Bob said, "I'm this way. Take care, Steve. It was good meeting you."

"Same here. See you around."

In the hospital room, McClane lay in bed wearing a patient's gown, while Holly sat beside him peeling an apple. The moment Owen's face appeared at the window, McClane exaggeratedly called out, "Hey, buddy! Took you long enough to get here. Man, you look awful! Looks like someone beat the hell out of you while I wasn't looking. And what's this—flowers? I'm not a woman, you know! Whatever… Holly, would you put those in some water?"

Owen laughed and stepped inside, giving the flowers to Holly. "Relax, man. The flowers aren't for you—they're for Holly. And yeah, I look rough, but it's all surface wounds. Give me a few days and I'll be fine. Unlike you, who's stuck in bed. At least you're still alive, though, so I'm relieved."

"Pfft, you'd better be! I heard from the CTU guys that they were investigating you. Can you believe those idiots? They actually thought you might be involved. What a waste of taxpayer money!" McClane sneered, clearly amused by the situation.

"They're fast. Looks like they already questioned you," Owen replied casually. "You sound more like a lawyer than a cop."

"Ha! You hang around those jerks long enough, and some of their BS rubs off on you. But seriously, I owe you one, you bastard."

"Keep the debt. You might get a chance to pay me back someday."

"Ha ha ha…"

Owen chuckled as well. Despite having known each other for less than 24 hours, the bond formed through shared life-and-death experiences felt as strong as a long-time friendship.

Meanwhile, at CTU Headquarters

In his office on the third floor, Jack Bauer, sleep-deprived and weary, rubbed his temples as Nina knocked and entered.

"You wanted to see me?" Nina asked.

"Yes. How's the case coming along?"

"We've submitted a detailed report to the director."

Jack nodded and asked, "What about Steve Owen?"

"We haven't found anything suspicious. McClane and the hostages' testimonies are all in his favor. We're still looking into other leads."

"Stop the investigation," Jack ordered.

Nina was surprised. As Jack's colleague—and lover—she quickly understood his reasoning.

"You have a high opinion of Steve Owen, don't you?"

"Yes. Take a look at these videos…"

Jack turned his laptop around, showing Nina surveillance footage from Zhongchen Tower. The clips, compiled by the tech team overnight, showed Owen navigating the building, evading and outmaneuvering the thieves. Scenes of him setting traps and performing parkour flashed across the screen.

"This guy is skilled. What's more impressive is his clear thinking under pressure. Even in dangerous situations, he made accurate predictions and decisions. I want to recruit him for the operations team—Tony's always short on people."

"I understand. I'll stop the investigation."

"Good. Also, leak some information to the media. We don't want our operatives getting too famous—it'll hinder future missions."

"Got it. I'll arrange for the press to focus on another story. Perhaps something about Fletcher will divert attention."

After leaving McClane's room, Owen received a call from George.

"Hey, George. What's up?"

"Steve, where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital, visiting McClane."

"Okay. When you have time, swing by the chief's office. Kavel wants to have a word with you."

"Got it. I'll head over now."

Just as Owen hung up and started toward the parking lot, a group of reporters emerged from the elevator. They were armed with cameras and microphones, scanning the hospital directory. Spotting Owen near the patient rooms, they froze for a moment before charging excitedly toward him.

"Oh, hell no," Owen muttered. He quickly understood what was happening and bolted for the fire escape. He had no desire to become a headline or have his past dug up by the press.

"Good luck, McClane," he thought with a smirk, knowing the reporters would swarm his friend next.

Having already run through enough fire escapes the previous night, Owen found the situation almost amusing. "Looks like I'm destined to be best friends with these staircases," he joked to himself as he descended.

When he exited onto the first floor, he saw yet another group of reporters rushing through the hospital's main entrance. They must have just gotten word of his location. Without hesitation, Owen slipped out the back door and made his way to the parking lot, where he quickly got into his car and drove off toward the station.

Arriving at the station, Owen didn't go inside immediately. Remembering his recent encounter at the hospital, he circled around the building to check the surroundings.

Sure enough, several reporters were stationed near the main entrance, likely hoping for a chance to catch him. The police probably hadn't allowed any media access, so the journalists had resorted to camping out.

Using the same trick as before, Owen quietly made his way to the back entrance. Fortunately, there were no reporters there. He parked his car, entered the building, and sighed in relief.

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