Reborn in America’s Anti-Terror Unit

What?

Owen couldn't comprehend David Palmer's decision. After everything they had been through, he hadn't expected it to end like this. Having David Palmer expose the truth would have been the best outcome—he had the weight and influence to make it count.

But Palmer's choice left him deeply disappointed. He had thought this man was different from other politicians. Clearly, he'd been wrong.

"No… No way…"

Owen's emotions surged. His friend had been framed and was now wanted across the nation. Because of this, Jack Bauer's family had been taken hostage, and Jack had nearly killed him.

He himself was now a fugitive, not to mention the countless crises they had survived. And now, with a single light remark—"this must not be exposed"—all their efforts were to be erased? What was the point of everything they'd done?

Jack Bauer remained silent, but his discontent was plain to see.

David Palmer had expected this reaction. He calmly began to explain: "I won't deny that I might benefit if this doesn't come to light. But more importantly, exposing this would not be in the interest of the United States. Whether I'm a presidential candidate or the president himself, I will never do anything that's against America's interests…"

He looked at both men. Seeing that they were at least willing to listen, he continued with a more detailed explanation: "You're Owen, right? I'll just call you that.

First of all, if this is exposed, the U.S. will be condemned by global public opinion and will lose its interests in Ethiopia. No U.S. president, past or future, would make that trade. Not for some so-called justice. It's simply not aligned with America's current interests.

Second, I have a rough idea who the forces behind this are. Clearly, they're a collective of vested interests. And this isn't the first time they've done something like this.

They're far more powerful than you can imagine. If they're willing to assassinate a presidential candidate just to bury the truth, then if I actually win the presidency, it wouldn't be a big deal for them to kill me, too. It's not like that's never happened in American history.

Even if we forget about me—say you take this to the media. You think they'll report it? The power of capital is beyond your comprehension.

Even if someone does report it, you think that alone will bring those people down? Impossible. You don't have any hard evidence for what happened domestically. As for the massacre in Ethiopia, they'll just throw out a scapegoat. But as for you? You'll be finished. They'll destroy you completely—physically, utterly. You and your families will all be wiped out."

Owen felt suffocated. What Palmer said sounded rational. The Ethiopian massacre had nothing to do with them. Exposing it wouldn't earn them any reward—only more trouble.

But the truth was, they were already in trouble. Swagger was a wanted man. Owen too. Jack Bauer nearly became a murderer. If this didn't come out, they had no way of clearing their names.

Palmer clearly knew what Owen was thinking and added, "If you trust me, let me handle the rest. Politics is the art of compromise. If they want silence, they have to pay for it. Warrants and charges—those are trivial. You'll all get what you deserve…"

Palmer's words left Owen feeling disgusted. But that was politics. He would never understand how two sides who had just been killing each other could sit down and talk business.

That's the political mindset: justice, fairness—even life itself—are merely bargaining chips. It's all a matter of value.

Politics. Damn politics!

Owen went silent. Jack Bauer, being a veteran, didn't hesitate to agree. He'd seen far more than Owen ever had. He knew just how dark the political world could be.

David Palmer made a call, said only a few words, and hung up. Owen and Jack looked to him, and Palmer shrugged. "They'll call back shortly…"

Sure enough, moments later, Palmer's phone rang. He stepped aside to answer it. Owen had no idea who was on the other end—Senator Dick, maybe, or someone even higher up.

Jack patted Owen on the shoulder. "Don't take it too hard. That's life."

Owen looked out at the night sky. Suddenly, everything he thought he had been protecting—American freedom, equality, the ideals in the Declaration—felt like utter bullshit. The world he had believed in shattered like glass.

"Feels like everything we did was meaningless, doesn't it?"

Owen turned in shock. Jack Bauer had voiced exactly what he was feeling. Jack smiled faintly. He had felt that way once too—confused, lost, wondering what he was even fighting for.

"Don't lose heart. That's the world—filthy everywhere. But we're not fighting for them, we're fighting for the country. We do it for the nation…"

Jack Bauer was a patriot. Owen had always known that. Jack's sense of duty, his love for this country—Owen couldn't fully understand it.

Jack would give up everything, even his life, for America.

But Owen was different. He was a transmigrant. He didn't have deep ties to this country. The only things anchoring him here were his personal relationships.

His family's love. His friends' care. That's what mattered to him. Everything he'd done so far—he'd done to protect them. He wanted to keep them safe, to let them live in peace.

If one day, his loved ones were gone, there'd be nothing left to bind him. America would have nothing worth defending. That was his logic—simple and clear.

Not long after, David Palmer returned, a triumphant smile on his face. "It's settled. The CIA is willing to make certain concessions in exchange for peace on both sides…"

"The CIA? Why them?"

Owen didn't understand why the CIA was suddenly involved again.

"I'm not going to talk to the real perpetrators directly. A strong intermediary is necessary. The CIA is a good choice.

That black-gloved hand behind the scenes—Daniel Glo, head of CIA operations in East Africa—whether this was his personal move or not, the CIA is now implicated.

If the truth comes out, the CIA—not the interest group—will take the biggest hit. That's why they'll do everything possible to broker peace. And they have the power to do so."

"And the result?"

"So far, it looks good. We won't expose the truth, and they'll cease all hostile actions, including the recent assassination attempt. All charges against you will be dropped. However, Bob Lee Swagger is a different case. America must give Ethiopia an explanation."

Owen frowned. "So Swagger is doomed?"

"No. Tomorrow, news will report that Swagger was killed by the CIA. Your friend will just have to assume a new identity and disappear."

Owen nodded. It wasn't ideal, but it was acceptable.

"What about you? What do you get from all this?"

Owen didn't believe for a second that David Palmer wouldn't walk away with the biggest prize.

Palmer didn't hide it. "Of course. The CIA and the interest group have already coordinated. In a few days, the current president will withdraw from the election. And naturally, you'll benefit too. Once I take office, I'll expand CTU's authority. Jack, you'll be the next Director of CTU. Owen, you can take Jack's current position…"

Owen looked at David Palmer. The offer was tempting—irresistibly so. No wonder politics, for all its filth, continued to draw people in.

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