Reborn in America’s Anti-Terror Unit

Beth laughed on the other end of the line. The two of them continued to chat casually. That one trip to the bathroom had made Owen feel a bit more clear-headed, and he wasn't in a hurry to head back in, instead leaning against the wall as he chatted with Beth.

After a short while, Beth hesitated before asking, "Owen, how's your work at CTU been?"

The question came out of nowhere, and Owen immediately sensed that there was more behind it. She must've run into something. He didn't hesitate and said bluntly, "Beth, we're friends—life-and-death friends. If there's anything you need help with, just tell me directly."

Hearing him say that, Beth didn't beat around the bush either. She got straight to the point. "It's like this, Owen. What happened in Europe really woke me up. I realized I need to strengthen my personal security.

I've been working on it these past weeks, and after thinking it over, I feel the most suitable people are you and Monica. So... I wanted to ask if you'd consider leaving CTU to come work for me. The pay would definitely be much better than CTU…"

Owen was a little caught off guard. He'd thought she was in some sort of trouble, but hadn't expected it to be this.

"Uh... did you talk to Monica already?"

"No, not yet. I thought I should speak to you first…"

Owen nodded. Actually, since Beth and Monica were closer, it would've been harder for her to bring it up with her.

Still, something about the situation didn't quite add up. He reminded her, "Beth, if you want to boost your security, why go through the trouble of building your own team? You could easily work with one of the major security firms. They provide professional protection services. If you don't know who to trust, I can recommend a few…"

And Owen did know quite a few people in the business. In law enforcement, especially among former Major Crimes officers, a lot of guys eventually transitioned into private security—earning several times what they did as cops and not facing much more danger.

Besides, with his background in CTU field ops, he was highly desirable to any private security company. Much like how ex-Navy SEALs or Delta Force operators had their military unit names serve as gold-plated résumés, Owen's CTU credentials carried similar weight.

He even thought of Sam and the small private firm he and his buddies had started. All of them were ex-CIA and former Army Rangers. If they went job-hunting, they'd be snatched up immediately—but they had chosen to start their own thing.

Sure, they couldn't compare to the large agencies, but among boutique firms, they were top-tier. Owen would be more than happy to refer them a high-end client like Beth.

Just as he was mentally preparing to send Beth Sam's number, she interrupted gently:

"I know. My butler actually suggested that too. He even gave me a list of reputable firms that work with high-net-worth clients. But... I'd still rather hire someone I know personally. Someone I can trust completely."

At that, Owen instantly understood.

He'd initially assumed Beth didn't know what she was doing, but that clearly wasn't the case. After what happened in Europe, she was simply wary of strangers. And probably, because of the secrecy surrounding that event, she'd never even spoken to a therapist. She'd kept everything bottled up inside.

As for why she thought of him and Monica, that was obvious—back in Europe, the way the two of them had fought their way out must've left a lasting impression on her.

Owen hesitated, unsure of how to reject her. CTU paid well, especially now that he'd just been promoted. Money wasn't an issue.

And he had no doubt that if he accepted, Beth would treat him very generously—his salary would easily be four times what he made now. But he had another concern.

If it was just temporary help, he'd be happy to assist. But long-term employment was a different matter. They were friends. If he became her employee, that dynamic would change. It'd feel awkward.

Besides, Owen wouldn't agree to be someone's personal bodyguard. And he knew Monica wouldn't either. Knowing her, there was no way she'd leave SWAT.

After struggling for a bit and still not finding the right words, Beth must've sensed his hesitation and said lightly, "Oh, Owen, it's okay. You can say no. It was just a thought, that's all."

"Thank you, Beth. Thanks for trusting me so much. I'd really like to help if I can. But… I just got promoted, and I'm not ready to walk away from it yet…"

He tried to put it as gently as he could.

"Oh? You got promoted? Congratulations!"

Her surprised voice carried genuine warmth and delight.

"Thanks, thank you."

"Alright then. Let's pretend I never asked. We're still friends, aren't we?"

"Of course. Always friends."

They chatted a little longer, until the awkwardness was completely gone, and then hung up.

Owen checked his watch. Somehow, they'd talked for almost an hour. By the time he returned to the bar, Carlos and the others were gone—they must've looked for him and then called it a night.

He waved to Ivan and headed home. He had definitely drunk too much and was technically driving under the influence. But this was West Hollywood's jurisdiction—nobody was likely to stop him. And even if they did, a few words would clear it up.

Back home, he showered, changed, and was about to crawl into bed when his phone rang again.

He picked it up, puzzled. "Jack? What made you think to call me?"

Jack Bauer had just taken over a massive role and had to be incredibly busy. Back when CTU relied on the CIA, they shared everything from training to equipment. Owen had even trained at a CIA West Coast facility when he first joined.

Now that CTU was its own entity, it needed independent resources. Jack had to be dealing with an avalanche of logistics.

"Owen, I've got a good opportunity for you."

"A good opportunity? What kind of opportunity?" Owen asked, his voice still a little sluggish from the drinks.

"I've secured a Navy SEAL selection slot."

"…SEAL? As in SEAL Team? How did you even pull that off? As far as I know, civilians can't apply. SEALs only recruit from within the military."

Owen instantly sobered up, sitting straight.

"You're right. It's not open to civilians. But this is a special arrangement—I managed to get you a place in the selection process. You'll train alongside soldiers going through the real SEAL assessment. How far you go depends on you.

Of course, even if you pass, you can't actually join. This is just an experience slot. And it's going to be brutal. No shortcuts. The program runs anywhere from several months to a year. Are you interested?"

"Hell yes! What's there to consider? I'm in! That spot is mine—you're not giving it to anyone else. This is SEALs we're talking about!"

Owen was practically ready to drag Jack through the phone in excitement.

"Alright then. I'll save the slot for you. I'll give you more details soon."

Jack hung up right after, clearly still buried in work.

Owen nearly jumped with joy. The Navy SEALs—one of America's two elite special operations forces, alongside the legendary Delta Force.

Joining SEAL Team Six might be every soldier's dream. Owen knew he'd never officially make the cut—he wasn't military—but just being allowed to train with them was an incredible opportunity. He'd definitely walk away with valuable experience.

This wasn't just good fortune falling from the sky—it was practically a miracle. There was no way he was going to let it go.

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