"We are going to split into teams."
"What the hell?"
"Are you crazy?"
"They're going to kill us all!"
"This is nuts!"
A brilliant idea had popped into Neil's head, and without hesitation, he summoned his squad to the rooftop. They all sat on the ground, waiting to hear what he had to say. But as soon as he revealed his plan, the response was instant rejection.
Criticism flooded in: Too dangerous, reckless, not something a bunch of teenagers should even consider. Yet, despite all the pushback, Neil wore a subtle smile.
He had expected this reaction. They were too quick to jump to conclusions, rejecting the plan before he even had a chance to explain.
"Chill, chill. I said we're going to split up, but I never said you'd be going alone." Lowering his voice to a whisper, Neil leaned in.
"First, look at those trucks down there."
He pointed toward the underground parking lot beneath the Empire State Building. Then, he carefully explained everything he and Nick had previously discussed, making sure everyone fully understood before revealing the actual plan.
"Remember the truck we stole from the terrorists?"
"Yes..."
"My plan is to sneak into the underground parking lot disguised as terrorists picking up supplies. Once we're inside, we'll split into two teams. One will search the warehouse for C4 or any kind of timed explosives, while the other investigates the Force Field Machine to figure out how to shut it down.
When Team 1 finds the bomb, they'll meet up with Team 2 on the roof and pass it off to them. Team 2 will then use the information they've gathered to deactivate the Machine using the bomb.
Finally, we'll sneak back onto the truck, grab some supplies to avoid suspicion, and get out of there. And when the bomb goes off... BOOM! New York is saved!" Neil slammed his hand against the ground for emphasis.
The squad stared at him, impressed by what seemed like a brilliant plan, but their skepticism quickly set in. As usual, Chad was the first to voice his concerns.
"About the teams… who's on Team 1 and who's on Team 2?"
"Yeah, I was getting to that," Neil replied.
"So, Chad, you'll be on Team 2 like we talked about before. And I think... Saiko should go with you. He knows a lot about this kind of stuff, so he can help speed up the research. You know… since he's the second smartest, right?"
"Okay..." Chad nodded, still uncertain.
"As for Team 1… uh… who wants in? Brent? Roy? Ben?"
Ben was startled when his name was called. He had known something like this would come up when he decided to join the squad, but one thing was still bothering him.
"Wait a minute. Why are you only asking us? What about Nick? Isn't he joining too?"
"Nick is a well-trained soldier."
"So?"
"So his skills will be more useful if he stays here. He can act as a diversion if we get caught. He can handle it."
"How about you? Aren't you coming with us?"
"Yeah, but sadly, I'll be escorting Team 2."
"Why?"
"Because going to the rooftop of the Empire State is way more dangerous. There are dozens of floors to go through, and the chance of running into terrorists is high. How's Team 2 going to handle that without me?"
"Okay, that makes sense, but... who's going to be on Team 1? And how many people do we need?"
"We'll need at least two people. One will wear the terrorist's uniform to blend in and handle the packages, while the other searches for the bomb. So who's gonna-"
"I think I'll just stay here with Nick," Brent spoke up.
"Why?" Neil asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know..." Brent hesitated, knowing full well he'd probably freeze up if he joined the mission. "It's just that... staying with Nick might be more helpful. Besides, who knows what kind of mistakes I'd make in there? And look at me!" He gestured at his belly.
"Now look at those terrorists, slim, ripped, and built like action movie villains! The moment I walk in, we're screwed!"
Neil sighed. "Haiz... fine. That leaves just Roy and Ben for Team 1."
Ben opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. "...Never mind."
Despite his fear, Ben couldn't stand the thought of being useless to the squad. He didn't want to be underestimated or let his ego dictate his choices. More importantly, he realized there was no one else left to take his place. If he backed out now, the entire plan could fall apart.
"...Alright, I'll do it," he finally said.
"Me too," Roy added without hesitation.
"Great. The plan is almost set. Just one last thing. Who's wearing the terrorist suits?" Neil asked.
"What do you mean?" Ben frowned.
"We only have three. One from the guy we took down in the basement. I stuffed it in your backpack, Ben. And two from the ones I killed earlier. The problem is, there aren't enough for all five of us. And two of them reek of dead bodies."
A wave of disgust washed over the group.
"But don't worry," Neil continued. "I'll take one of the smelly ones. That still leaves two more, and, well... one of them is especially bad."
The moment Neil finished speaking, Ben shot his hand up. "I'll wear the suit. The one that isn't smelly, I mean."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"How about you, Roy? Any objections?"
"Nope, it's fine."
"Alright then. Ben, you'll keep an eye on the terrorists while Roy searches for the bomb. That still leaves one more suit for team two. Who's taking it?"
Saiko raised his hand.
"Saiko? You?"
He nodded.
"Are you certain? This could be a horrible experience. It might haunt you forever. You still sure you want to do this?"
"I'm sure. I can handle it."
"Confidence isn't the issue here, Saiko. But if you're that determined, I'll trust you with it. That still leaves Chad. We'll find another suit for him once we're inside."
Neil looked at everyone, gauging their readiness. "Since the plan is clear, it's time to get moving, right?"
They all nodded.
"Good. Now we begin phase two of the operation."
...
15 minutes later.
...
A terrorist stood guard at the entrance of the Empire State Building's underground car park. His eyes narrowed as a truck approached, its headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. Behind the wheel, two figures dressed in the same militant attire sat in tense silence.
The truck rolled to a stop in front of him. "Identify yourself," the guard demanded.
"Uhh..." The driver hesitated, his fingers tightening around the wheel.
"I said, identify yourself!" The guard's voice sharpened.
"Uhh..."
"Just say something!" the passenger beside him hissed under his breath. The driver swallowed hard. "We... we're here for food."
The guard's expression shifted. "Oh! You're one of those voluntary Americans! My bad for not using English. Go on in."
"Okay. Thank you."
It turned out that the terrorist had been speaking Russian, which completely baffled the English-speaking driver. But one detail stuck in his mind.
'Volunteer Americans?'
Did that mean there were Americans willingly working for the terrorists? Voluntarily? How could someone betray their own people and country just for money? If that was true, then this entire situation was even more screwed up than he had thought.
But those questions would have to wait. Right now he had more pressing concerns. They had just cleared the first and most crucial step, getting inside the building.
The driver, who had been feigning nervousness, dropped the act. His expression hardened. His posture straightened. The fragile disguise faded, revealing his true self. The serious and sharp-minded Neil Phildom.
Beside him, similarly dressed in a stolen uniform, sat Ben. Moments later, after finding a place to park the truck, they began their reconnaissance of the area. It was an unexpected sight.
Before entering, they had anticipated being met with scrutiny—watchful eyes and sharp ears of terrorists stationed inside, keeping tabs on everyone who came for resupply.
Instead, not a single glance was directed at them. The terrorists inside were too preoccupied with their own tasks, focused solely on loading and unloading crates of food and water. They simply assumed Neil's truck was here for the same reason.
Taking advantage of this, Neil ignored them entirely and drove deeper into the parking area, searching for a secure spot. He maneuvered the vehicle into a space hidden between several other trucks and cut the engine.
Without hesitation, he leaned slightly toward the pickup box behind the driver's seat and whispered: "We arrived."
That was all he said before stepping out of the vehicle. Ben was already waiting for him near the front of the truck when Neil approached.
"You. Go pack the food," Neil ordered, his voice low but firm. "I'll go for a poop. By the time I get back, we need to be ready to leave. Got it?"
"Yes sir!" Ben responded immediately.
They adjusted their voices with precision, just loud enough to be heard yet natural enough to avoid suspicion. Every word was calculated, tricking the surrounding terrorists into believing they were just another pair of operatives going about their assigned duties.
Meanwhile, Chad, Roy, and Saiko lay hidden in the covered pickup box of the truck. The moment Neil spoke, they knew it was their signal. With quiet precision, they moved. Carefully, they lifted the cover and slipped out, one by one, crouching low and pressing themselves against the truck's frame.
Beneath the vehicle, they crawled through the shadows, using Neil's voice as cover to mask any rustling sounds. Inch by inch, they crept toward their designated positions, careful to remain unseen.
Neil, after ensuring everyone was in position, gave a final glance at Ben before parting ways. He walked toward what he assumed was the entrance to the main structure, his pace steady, his posture controlled. Saiko and Chad followed behind, weaving through the parked vehicles, always keeping low.
Ben wasted no time either. He moved towards the cluster of terrorists unloading their cargo, blending in with them. Roy was right behind him, his steps perfectly synchronized, his presence masked by the larger group's movements.
This was it, the most dangerous phase of their plan. If they were caught, there would be no second chances. No time to explain. No mercy.
Failure meant instant death, and yet, despite the heavy weight of the mission pressing down on them, they pushed forward. The fate of Manhattan and millions rested on their shoulders. Fear clawed at their insides, but they refused to let it take control.
From this point on, they were on their own.