"IQ, stay here and study the bomb. We'll go check the front. Keep communication open. If anything happens, we'll notify you in advance."
"Understood."
Monica and the bomb were moved to a secluded corner—she was the only one who had any chance of disarming it, and the rest couldn't help. Ghost led the others toward the front of the aircraft.
This Boeing 747 had two levels. They were on the lower aft side. The space was separated from the luggage hold by tarpaulin, and the luggage hold from the economy cabin by another layer of tarp. Once they reached the economy cabin, they would theoretically be able to assess the situation there.
Owen glanced at his watch. There was one hour left before the plane would enter U.S. airspace. They had already drafted a new action plan.
Originally, the plan had been to locate the VX gas upon boarding. If there wasn't any, it would be a standard hijacking case—they would use sedative gas to knock out everyone, take control, and divert the plane to the nearest airport for landing.
But with the gas confirmed, things had grown more complicated. They still had to seize control of the aircraft, but now they had to do so before entering U.S. airspace. They had to reroute and land safely elsewhere. If the plane entered U.S. airspace, it would mean CTU's mission had failed, and the U.S. Air Force would not hesitate to shoot it down, even at the cost of international condemnation.
This had been the President's final compromise with the Pentagon—CTU was their hope, but not their only one. The military would not entrust the fate of the capital or the entire East Coast to just a few operatives.
And now, they were facing the worst-case scenario: the nerve gas was real. That meant they had two missions—seize control and redirect the aircraft. In truth, both objectives were one and the same. If they couldn't eliminate the terrorists, they couldn't instruct the pilots to change course. If they took too long to seize control, they'd be shot down. If they failed to neutralize the terrorists completely, the bomb might be triggered. Either way—they would die.
So they had to move fast, thoroughly, and decisively eliminate the hijackers.
Moving silently through the luggage hold, they advanced. Faint light shone through the tarp ahead—the other side was the economy cabin. When they reached it, they pressed quietly to the tarp's edge and listened. It was eerily quiet.
After a moment, with no movement nearby, Ghost pulled out a knife and silently cut a slit in the tarp. One by one, they leaned in to peer through.
Across from them was an aisle. Close to their position lay the bodies of two flight attendants. A Middle Eastern-looking man with a pistol was pacing back and forth. From the other direction came a shorter man with thick eyebrows and a receding hairline. Owen instantly recognized him—it was Najib Harvey, the number two in the Amir Freedom Party and the mastermind behind the hijacking.
Harvey's photo had been distributed before the mission. Everyone immediately identified him.
Harvey exchanged a few words with the armed man, then turned to leave—only to be suddenly grabbed from behind by a passenger, who pressed a gun to his head.
"Drop your weapon! I'm a police officer, an undercover air marshal. I know who this guy is—he's your boss!"
The man who had seized Harvey was middle-aged, claiming to be the air marshal for this flight. Owen knew that every flight had at least one undercover marshal posing as a passenger, specifically to prevent hijackings.
These air marshals were armed. Owen hadn't expected him to still be alive. Normally, hijackers would check the crew list first, which clearly identified the marshal. How had this one survived?
For some reason, the hijackers hadn't discovered his identity—and now, cleverly, he had taken the operation's leader hostage. It was a bold move. He was alone, but perhaps the odds weren't hopeless.
What now?
Everyone instinctively looked at Ghost. This was an opportunity, but Ghost was the commanding officer—it was his call.
"Hold position. Keep watching."
Ghost made the decision instantly. No one questioned him. CTU was a disciplined organization. Orders from the commander were to be followed unconditionally, whether understood or not.
Owen didn't disagree—in fact, had he been in command, he would've made the same call. Though the air marshal seemed to be in control, he was on the edge of a cliff. No one knew how the terrorists would respond next.
"Drop your weapon—now!"
Shouts rang out from both sides. The armed hijacker was clearly nervous but didn't lower his gun.
The air marshal warned again, retreating slowly with Harvey as a hostage. His expression was tense. Harvey, by contrast, remained eerily calm, as if unaware that a gun was pressed to his skull.
The passengers had all huddled into a corner. While the situation seemed hopeful, danger lurked just beneath the surface. One particularly righteous male passenger tried to assist the marshal, but was shot dead on the spot by the gunman.
That single gunshot had a powerful effect—no one dared move after that. Everyone cowered silently, terrified they might be next.
Pop—
Without warning, a passenger suddenly stood up behind the retreating air marshal and fired a small-caliber pistol into the back of his head.
A spray of blood. The marshal collapsed, and the weapon was quickly taken by Harvey.
Harvey smiled and spoke words of thanks in Arabic to the shooter. They hugged briefly—this "passenger" was actually another disguised terrorist.
The twist shocked the passengers and made the CTU agents behind the tarp go cold with dread. They had anticipated this possibility before boarding—but such tactics were rare among most terrorist groups. These Middle Eastern operatives, however, had indeed planned for it.
If there was one hidden hijacker among the passengers, there were surely more. This one revelation dramatically increased the difficulty of eliminating all terrorists quickly.
Yet, some felt a sliver of relief. Heartbeat glanced at Ghost. At the very least, Ghost had made the right call. If they had rushed in earlier, the outcome could have been far worse.
Owen didn't dwell on what could've been. He looked at Ghost, consciously trying to think like a commander. And a commander's mind had to ask: What's our solution now? Do we have enough manpower?
…
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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