"And what about inside? Do you know anything about the PEOC?"
After hearing Jack describe all the exterior defenses around the White House, Owen couldn't help but grow curious about the inside—especially the PEOC, the Presidential Emergency Operations Center. It was the only secure bunker beneath the White House, and a staple feature in any film involving the White House.
Jack, however, replied, "I'm not sure. That stuff's classified. The interior of the White House is handled entirely by the Secret Service. All I know is the President's vehicle is an eighty-ton military-grade armored Cadillac, nicknamed 'The Beast.' It's bulletproof and resistant to gas, chemical weapons, even missile attacks. As for the PEOC, I've heard it's about ten feet deep, fully reinforced with steel and concrete, supposedly able to survive a nuclear blast…"
"And its location—same as what WikiLeaks says? Beneath the west wing?"
Owen blurted this out, not even sure whether WikiLeaks in this life ever mentioned such a thing; he only remembered a certain movie from his past life saying it.
"I wouldn't know. Probably only the President and his security chief know for sure."
Jack shrugged, and Owen didn't press the issue further.
The car continued forward and soon arrived at the pedestrian zone. Armed Capitol Police began appearing around them. Jack parked the vehicle, read off a code, and a nearby officer input it into a terminal. A moment later, the printer spat out two access cards.
"Here are your passes. Please don't lose them."
Jack thanked the officer, rolled up the window, and restarted the car. They proceeded through the pedestrian zone toward the White House.
At the gate, a set of rising steel bollards stopped them again. Jack parked, shut off the engine, and submitted to inspection.
"Hey, West, you on shift today?"
"Hey Jack, yeah…"
The guard named West clearly knew Jack. Jack was a frequent visitor to President Palmer, and the two had long since become familiar. But even with that familiarity, the protocol remained strict. West took their passes, verified them through the scanner, and handed them back to Jack.
During the check, several soldiers stood nearby with weapons at the ready, their posture subtly alert. A separate group of guards used explosive-sniffing devices to scan under the vehicle, while another team with bomb-sniffing dogs opened the backseat and trunk for inspection.
When the guards spotted the assault rifle and tactical gear in the backseat, one of them tensed, and the soldiers drew in closer, their barrels now aimed squarely at the car.
"Whoa, don't shoot—easy, fellas, watch the trigger. This is a misunderstanding…"
Owen had forgotten about the weapons and nearly caused an incident. He quickly raised his hands and moved slowly to retrieve his credentials, handing them over.
"CTU. We just got back from a mission—didn't have time to stow the gear…"
The guards carefully checked the ID, then nodded at the soldiers, who lowered their weapons. West joked, "Next time, buddy, be more careful. Woody here nearly lit you up."
The soldier nearby smiled. Jack and Owen laughed it off from inside the car. Jack took back the credentials.
"You know the drill…"
West patted the car door as the steel bollards lowered.
"Yeah, I'll park on the east lot."
Jack waited for the bollards to drop, then drove on. In the rearview mirror, the barriers rose again, cutting off entry behind them. The guards weren't worried about whether Jack and Owen were good guys—because even if they were carrying weapons, they weren't getting any further into the White House without going through a mountain of additional security.
"You go do what you came for. A Secret Service agent will join you shortly—you won't be able to go anywhere without one. I'm heading to see President Palmer…"
Jack parked the car and gave a quick rundown before preparing to leave. But before he could step away, Owen called out.
After a pause, Owen said, "Jack, when you meet with the President, you can tell him everything—but don't say a word to anyone else."
"Why? You suspect…"
"Yes. White Mask isn't stupid. We know how fortified the White House is—they do too. There's no way they'd think they could breach this place without inside help. And knowing their style, they won't just storm the White House for fun. Their real target is the President. And if that's true, it's probably for the nuclear launch codes. But the world knows how the system works—once there's an external alert, the President is immediately escorted to the PEOC by his security chief. So why would White Mask believe they could intercept him before he gets there?"
"You think there's a mole close to the President?"
Owen neither confirmed nor denied it—he simply stared Jack straight in the eye.
After a long pause, Jack finally said, "Understood. I'll stay with the President and make sure he's safe."
Owen's theory sounded alarmist, but Jack had seen far too many "impossibles" happen in his lifetime. It never hurt to be cautious.
Jack left, and Owen waited near the west entrance. Soon a man in a black suit approached.
"Steve Owen?"
"That's me."
Owen handed over his credentials and access pass. The agent checked them, then returned them.
"Come with me. I've been instructed to accompany you on your internal investigation. Wherever you want to go, I'll take you."
Owen followed the agent inside. At the entrance, just like before, he separated the magazine from his sidearm, placed the weapon in a container for security to hold, and passed through a metal detector before gaining entry.
Just behind them, a small crowd had gathered in line—clearly a tourist group, judging by the cameras.
"Open day today?"
Owen asked the agent beside him as they walked. The agent shrugged and nodded. The White House did offer public tours, but only with advance booking and only from Tuesday to Saturday, 10 to 11 a.m. Even with that limitation, it still hosted over 1.5 million visitors per year.
Owen then remembered it was Friday. He'd been so busy lately, he'd forgotten what day it was. Just as he turned to leave, a strangely familiar voice caught his attention. Owen froze in his tracks.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please form a line. We are now inside the heart of America—the White House. The White House has six floors including the basement, 132 rooms, 412 doors, 147 windows, 28 fireplaces, 35 bathrooms, as well as a tennis court, basketball court, orchard, jogging track, and a swimming pool, uh…"
The guide's enthusiastic spiel abruptly cut off. Both he and Owen looked at each other in shock and exclaimed simultaneously:
"You again? What the fuck—how are you here?!"