Chapter 230: The Reception

8:30 PM — The private reception began on schedule.

Despite the earlier disruption, the hotel staff worked quickly and managed to set up the new venue in just ten minutes. The sudden change of location didn't seem to bother the guests or the press. At that moment, David Palmer was already standing on the stage, kicking off the evening with a witty remark before transitioning into his political platform.

In the ceiling vents, Jenny remained hidden and waiting. She had deliberately avoided positioning herself above the stage — she knew USSS would be hyper-vigilant there.

And as she expected, if she had chosen that location, she would've already been captured by now.

Below, Palmer's speech continued, sprinkled with occasional jokes to lighten the mood. Guests responded with polite laughter. The atmosphere was relaxed, even festive.

USSS agents, both in plainclothes and in uniform, were stationed throughout the room, with the highest concentration near the stage. They weren't listening to Palmer — their job was to constantly scan the crowd, spotting anything suspicious before it happened.

Inside the ventilation shaft, darkness prevailed. The ceiling lights didn't reach this high, and the only faint illumination came from indirect floor reflections — not nearly enough to see.

But Jenny's vision was unhindered. She was wearing an AN/PVS-14 night-vision monocular and was silently running a final check of her gear.

The AN/PVS-14, designed by Litton Industries and ITT, was a standard issue for American special forces and tactical police units, as well as for many allied countries like Canada and the UK.

Assassins didn't often use such equipment, but Jenny's plan left nothing to chance. She had carefully mapped out every phase: preparation, execution, and escape.

Meticulous planning before any mission was her trademark — the reason she had survived this long and earned the title of an A-grade assassin.

Finishing her equipment check, she gently cocked the hammer of her Beretta 92F. Despite being a woman, she preferred "men's guns," and especially liked the clean, aggressive lines of the Beretta 92F.

The gun was 217 mm long and weighed 955 grams unloaded. The thick grip was slightly oversized for her hands, but she liked it that way.

Jenny waited patiently. Now wasn't the time. The agents were still on high alert. A premature attack would only be blocked by their human wall.

Her plan was to wait until Palmer finished his speech and began mingling with the guests. Then he would be surrounded by civilians, and the number of agents would be much lower — that would be her moment.

And her assassination wouldn't be a simple one.

As soon as she gave the signal, her partner would cut the power. Jenny would drop from the ceiling the instant the room went dark — before the emergency lights came on — and strike.

By the time the backup lights activated, it would be over. Whether the hit succeeded or not, she would immediately escape using the service chute in the corner of the ballroom, a route she'd thoroughly studied.

The hotel had once sealed the service passage with glass, but Jenny had seen the building's blueprints and knew the exact location. Breaking the glass would allow her to slide down to the first floor and vanish.

In the shaft, she lay quietly. Speeches typically ran 10–15 minutes. Now, all she had to do was wait — for the speech to end, for Palmer to move into the crowd, and for the moment to strike.

…

Security checkpoint.

Jack Bauer placed his sidearm and other metal objects into a tray, then stepped through the detector. The agents found nothing unusual and, after confirming his security clearance, returned his weapon.

Jack reholstered the gun and entered the venue. David Palmer's speech was already underway. Jack found a spot in a back corner, keeping a close eye on the stage.

Elsewhere in Los Angeles, Colonel Isaac Johnson — whose real identity was CIA East Africa Division Chief Daniel Glover — was watching a monitor, showing Owen's point of view. Palmer was mid-speech.

"Good. Move in close. Pull the trigger. No stunts," Glover said coldly.

"No. I want to see my wife and daughter. I'm not doing anything until I know they're safe," Jack replied firmly. He hadn't spoken to them in a long time.

"You don't get to negotiate. If you refuse, I'll kill one of them — your wife or your daughter. You choose."

Glover's tone was merciless. Jack hesitated. Something didn't feel right. Earlier, they had let him talk to his family — even do video calls. But lately, they'd gone silent. No calls. No messages.

A flicker of hope crossed Jack's mind. Maybe Owen had saved them. Maybe he'd found the note.

"Do as I say — or tell your family goodbye," Glover growled again in Jack's earpiece.

Jack clenched his teeth and slowly pulled his gun from his waistband.

He had no intention of assassinating a presidential candidate. When he entered earlier, he had deliberately positioned himself near a Secret Service agent, just to his left and behind.

He hoped the agent would notice him drawing the weapon.

…

CTU Headquarters

After being brought back by Tony, Jack's wife and daughter were immediately debriefed. Tony needed to get a handle on what had happened.

"You were kidnapped. Someone tried to use you to coerce Jack. Then Owen rescued you?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Jack's wife replied. "To prove it, the kidnappers let us talk to Jack — once or twice. Owen came to save us because Jack left him a message. Nina was a traitor. She was working with the people who took us. Owen said the surveillance logs and security system data were tampered with. Check it — you'll see."

She relayed everything Owen had told her, word for word. Tony frowned.

Most of the data support team had been detained earlier for questioning — and Nina had personally handled that entire shift.

She had also left without notifying anyone and mysteriously ended up dead.

Everything Jack's wife said aligned with what they already knew.

Just then, the Pentagon-appointed Deputy Director walked in.

"Tony, what's going on?"

With Jack gone, the Deputy Director was the highest-ranking officer in the building. The matter was serious enough that Tony didn't hesitate — he laid it all out.

After hearing the report, the Deputy Director agreed: this could be a major lead.

"Get me Jack Bauer's location. I want results in five minutes," he ordered crisply.

The remaining members of the data team scrambled to comply — and against the odds, they actually managed to find Jack.

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