Chapter 4: The Loyalty Tower Heist  

Hans' words were like a bomb dropped into water, triggering waves of unrest among the crowd. People began to panic, but the sound of gunfire quickly silenced them. It was only then that the attendees fully grasped the reality—they weren't dealing with soldiers; these men were armed robbers. 

Hans surveyed the crowd with satisfaction, savoring their expressions—anger, fear, confusion, and terror—all of which gave him a thrilling sense of control. 

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hans," he announced calmly. "Please remain quiet. We are not here today to kill anyone. As long as you cooperate, you will have a chance to leave here alive. So, don't do anything stupid." 

As he spoke, he wagged his finger for emphasis. "Now, I need you all to hand over your phones. And just to be clear, hiding a phone counts as 'something stupid,' and I don't think I need to explain the consequences." 

With Hans' warning delivered, a few robbers began moving through the crowd, carrying a trash bin. One by one, the attendees reluctantly dropped their phones into the bin. Even those who had initially thought about hiding their phones reconsidered after hearing Hans' final remark. 

Once the phones were collected, the robbers placed the bin on a table and began pouring champagne over it until the phones were submerged. The devices were now useless. 

Meanwhile, other robbers started searching the smaller rooms adjacent to the banquet hall, pulling out anyone who had tried to hide. They even found a couple engaged in an intimate act, dragging them out naked and humiliated. 

Owen, observing from the restroom, silently cursed his luck. Were those flashes of memory from his past life meant to get him killed? 

As a police officer, Owen quickly assessed the situation. It was clear that this was no film shoot; real robbers had taken control of the tower and were holding the guests hostage. 

He crouched near the door, peeking out cautiously. Just as he reached for his phone to call for help, he remembered—it was still in the car. At that moment, he heard footsteps approaching the restroom. 

"Fuck!" he muttered under his breath. 

He couldn't fight his way out. He only had a handgun, while the robbers were armed with automatic weapons. There was no question who would win in a direct confrontation. 

Surviving yesterday's ordeal had already been a stroke of luck. He had no intention of dying today and having a flag draped over his body. 

Owen pulled back from the door, his mind racing. 

Fighting wasn't an option, which left two choices: play the role of a hostage or escape. Pretending to be a hostage was risky. While he wasn't a celebrity, Loyalty Tower was within the jurisdiction of West Hollywood, where he patrolled regularly. There was a chance someone might recognize him as a police officer, which could lead to immediate execution if his identity was exposed. 

That left only one option: escape. However, as Owen looked around, he frowned. 

The ventilation ducts were too high and too narrow to crawl through. Hiding in a stall wouldn't work either—any fool would know the robbers would search each one. 

Desperate, he opened a window. The night breeze rushed in, and he leaned out to gauge his chances. From the 19th floor, the ground below seemed terrifyingly distant. Falling from this height would turn him into a splatter on the pavement. 

The robbers' footsteps grew louder. He could hear their boots clinking against the tiled floor. Gritting his teeth, Owen climbed onto the window ledge. 

He glanced down at the vast night sky and felt a wave of dizziness. Forcing himself to look up, he took a deep breath and pressed his body tightly against the outer wall of the building. Slowly, he began edging along the narrow ledge. 

The robbers entered the restroom, kicking open each stall door one by one. Empty. 

The two robbers exchanged glances and nodded. Just as they were about to leave, one of them noticed faint footprints on the window ledge. 

He signaled to his partner, and the two cautiously approached the window, guns at the ready. One of them suddenly thrust his weapon outside. 

Nothing. Only the night breeze. 

The robbers scanned the surroundings and peered downward into the endless darkness. One of them muttered a curse under his breath. It was the 19th floor—who could possibly survive a fall from here? 

After a final look, they left the room. 

Unbeknownst to them, a shadow clung to the wall just above the window. Owen had pressed himself flat against the building, hidden from their view. 

Hearing the robbers leave, Owen let out a long breath. He hadn't seen the footprints but had guessed that the open window might draw their attention. It was human nature to check such things. Fortunately, he had climbed out of sight in time. 

With painstaking effort, Owen scaled the exterior of the building, finally pulling himself through a window on the 20th floor. The ledge had been barely wide enough for half his foot, and he had been forced to maintain perfect balance while clinging to the wall. One misstep would have sent him plummeting to his death. 

After catching his breath, Owen slowly calmed down. According to police protocol, the first thing he needed to do was call for backup. But his phone wasn't with him. 

He stood up, dusting himself off, and took in his surroundings. The 20th floor was under renovation, cluttered with construction materials and debris. He looked disheveled, his clothes stained from the climb. 

Scanning the area, he realized he needed a phone to call for help. This floor clearly didn't have one. He now had two choices: move up or go down. 

After some thought, Owen decided to head upward. The robbers had just seized control of the building, so the lower floors were likely heavily guarded, especially the first floor. The upper levels, by comparison, might be less secure. 

Elevators were out of the question. He would have to use the stairs. 

At the 21st floor's emergency stairwell, Owen pressed his ear against the fire door and listened carefully. Silence. 

Slowly, he cracked the door open and slipped inside like a cat, closing it quietly behind him. 

The 21st floor was a sprawling office space, eerily empty. It seemed everyone had left early. The lights were off, and the entire floor was bathed in the pale glow of moonlight streaming through the windows. Moving cautiously, Owen began his search. 

Before long, he found a landline phone sitting on a desk near the window.