Broadway.
McClane rushed straight into the street, physically stopped a car, flashed his badge through the window, then pulled off a series of GTA-level moves—yanking the driver out and tossing him aside in one smooth motion.
"Police! Your car's being requisitioned!"
He turned and shouted,
"Keung! Move it, get in—we're running out of time!"
Keung immediately slid into the driver's seat.
"Let me drive!"
"You can drive?"
"I've been driving trucks for ten years."
"…Good enough. Go!"
The original driver stood on the roadside, still cursing loudly, which made Keung feel slightly guilty.
"McClane… you seem pretty experienced at stealing cars."
McClane replied calmly,
"Picked it up in Los Angeles. That's just how things work there. Stop talking and drive—I'll take responsibility if anything happens."
"You're in charge?"
"Yes!"
"…Which way?"
McClane froze.
"Are you kidding me? You don't even know the way and you're grabbing the wheel?"
Then he pointed.
"Left! See that fork? Take that!"
The car shot forward like an arrow.
But Manhattan traffic?
Completely jammed.
Keung scanned the surroundings, then suddenly jerked the wheel and slammed the gas—
Straight onto the sidewalk.
Sparks flew.
Stalls overturned.
Awnings ripped apart.
Chaos followed in their wake.
McClane's face turned green as he clutched the handle.
"Jesus—what the hell are you doing?! Keung! Do you usually drive trucks on sidewalks?!"
Keung stayed focused, weaving through pedestrians with terrifying precision.
"Trucks are too big. You can't do this with them."
"Fuck! Are you even in the truckers' union? I'm filing a complaint with City Hall—widen the sidewalks or something! You drive like maniacs!"
"I haven't joined yet. Tourist visa… not very convenient."
Then—
"Buckle up."
"Wait—this is a car, not a plane—!!!"
The car smashed through a guardrail—
And launched off the edge.
BOOM!
It dropped five to six meters, slammed into the ground, skidded violently, and kept going like a wounded beast.
McClane took a deep breath, heart racing.
"Keung… you're insane."
"I usually drive very carefully," Keung replied seriously. "But we're in a hurry."
"…I like punctual people. I'll help you apply for a green card someday."
"…Uh, thank you."
Keung glanced at McClane's bald head—
Then quietly looked away.
"…What's next?"
McClane pointed ahead while silently fastening his seatbelt.
"See that building that looks like a dick? Head that way. Shortest distance between two points is a straight line—and clearly, you don't care what kind of road you drive on."
The car tore through the city using every illegal shortcut imaginable.
---
By the time they stopped near the station before Wall Street on Line 3—
The car was wrecked.
Smoking.
Barely alive.
McClane stepped out, expression serious.
"Keung. We split up."
"One of us answers the call. The other boards the train early and finds the bomb."
"If I fail—you're still here."
"If you fail—I'm still here."
"We stop this together."
"I'll find the bomb," Keung said without hesitation. "You handle the phone. I don't want to talk to that bastard."
McClane hesitated.
"Keung, I should go. I'm the cop. Bomb disposal is dangerous—if I survive, I hope we—"
"Hey! Let me finish!"
Too late.
Keung had already moved.
He exploded off the hood like a shot, cleared the fence in one fluid motion, and dived into the subway entrance like a hawk dropping on its prey.
"Holy—Martial Arts is insane!"
He sprinted through security and onto the platform—
But the train doors had already closed.
"Wait! I'm not on yet!"
He took off running after it.
Security guards chased behind him, batons raised.
"Stop! No ticket and you still want to board?!"
Keung gritted his teeth.
Then—
Under countless shocked stares—
He jumped.
He latched onto the moving train like a giant lizard.
The crowd gasped.
"In God's name—!"
"Sorry! I'll come back and buy a ticket!" he shouted.
"Jesus, is this guy insane?"
"This is New York, not an Indian train!"
The train sped up.
Keung hammered the window—no effect.
Then suddenly—
CRASH!
Someone inside smashed the glass with a fire hammer and reached out.
Keung grabbed the hand and pulled himself in.
Then froze.
"…Dove?!"
"Keung," Luca sighed, "try using the front entrance next time."
"Are you reckless, or does the New York subway just not tolerate loitering?" Then he added dryly,
Keung blinked, still catching his breath.
"…Dove, what are you doing here?"
"Where peace is needed, I'll be there."
Luca had already boarded earlier.
A bomb on the train meant one thing—
It had to be handled perfectly.
Blow the vault wall.
Protect the passengers.
Do both at the same time.
Only he could pull that off.
"Dove! There's a bomb on this train—we need to defuse it now!"
"I know."
"Let's find it."
Keung moved fast, checking under seats, scanning luggage racks.
"The bombs are in suitcases!"
"Find the suitcases!"
Luca didn't rush.
He moved with purpose.
Precise. Direct.
He stopped at a wall-mounted yellow emergency box.
Opened it.
Inside— Instead a phone, there is a Bomb, Crude, Compact, with Two liquid canisters and colored wires, and a blinking red light
Found it.
"Keung," Luca said calmly, "lend me your luck."
The liquid inside was still milky white.
Not yet activated.
Once mixed—
It would turn red.
Then enter a critical state.
One trigger away from detonation.
"Dove… what is that?"
"Bomb."
"…What?!"
"Careful."
"Relax. I've got this."
Luca lifted the device steadily.
"Keung—evacuate everyone. Move them to the front cars."
"I'll handle this."
"I'll do it!" Keung stepped forward immediately.
"It's too dangerous! You weren't even part of this—you don't have to risk your life!"
Luca shook his head slightly.
"I promised Uncle Bill I'd take care of you."
"I keep my promises."
Then, quieter—
"I already dragged you into this."
"I'm not risking your life too."
Keung froze.
"You're someone important…"
"I'm just nobody…"
"No time."
"Move."
Luca brushed past him, carrying the bomb toward the rear cars.
His steps were steady.
Unhurried.
Keung stood there for half a second—
Then clenched his fists hard.
That thing could blow someone to pieces.
And yet—
The one carrying it…
Wasn't even supposed to be in this game.
"…Dove…"
"You can't die."
He turned and started evacuating passengers immediately.
"Everyone move forward! Now!"
"Leave your belongings—just go!"
People panicked at first—
Then started moving.
Meanwhile, Luca walked through the wagons with the bomb in hand, watching the liquid carefully as it slowly shifted.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said calmly,
"NYPD. Please stay calm and move to the front of the train."
Someone asked nervously,
"What's going on?"
Luca raised the device slightly.
"This is a biological weapon."
"If it goes off—you all turn into zombies."
Silence.
"…Sir, are you serious?"
"That depends," Luca replied flatly.
"Do you feel lucky?"
"…Let's go. NOW!"
Panic broke out instantly—
But this time, it worked in his favor.
People rushed forward, clearing the rear cars faster than expected.
Then—
With a subtle flick of his sleeve—
A white dove appeared.
It fluttered upward, circling once above the carriage.
Luca gave a soft whistle.
The dove flew toward the front.
"Follow it," he said.
"It'll lead you to safety."
A little girl pointed excitedly.
"Mom! Look—a dove!"
"…That is not the point right now!"
Even in chaos—
That comment somehow made the tension crack for a second.
---
Wall Street Station.
McClane arrived.
Gunshots.
Screaming.
Chaos everywhere.
Masked men controlled the area.
Civilians fled in panic.
Leon moved through the crowd like a shepherd—
Gun raised, firing controlled shots to drive people out instead of harming them.
His men, dressed like plainclothes officers, cleared the station with brutal efficiency.
McClane pushed against the flow, forcing his way to the phone—
Just as it rang.
"I'm here!"
"I solved it—shut down the bomb!"
Simon's voice came through—calm, amused.
"Really?"
"Then where's your Chinese friend?"
"He's in the bathroom!"
A pause.
Then a chuckle.
"Lying isn't a good habit, McClane."
"I saw you come in alone."
"My rule was both of you."
"Sorry."
"You lose."
Click.
McClane's face darkened instantly.
"Son of a bitch…"
RUMBLE—
The train entered the station.
Then—
BOOM!
The explosion tore through the platform.
Dust surged outward.
The shockwave slammed into everything nearby.
The train derailed instantly.
Its massive body twisted like a giant steel serpent, crashing violently onto the platform.
Metal screamed.
Concrete cracked.
Advertising boards, benches, ticket machines, booths—
All of it was swept aside and crushed under the wreckage.
Fortunately—
There were very few civilians left in the station.
McClane staggered through the dust cloud, coughing as he forced himself forward.
"Open it! Open the doors!"
He grabbed onto the carriage and started forcing doors open one by one, helping passengers out as quickly as he could.
"Move! Keep moving!"
"Watch your step—come on!"
Most of the passengers made it out alive.
Shaken.
Terrified.
But alive.
"Keung!"
McClane turned his head sharply.
"Thank God—you're okay!"
Keung stood there, his eyes slightly red.
"…Dove was on the train."
McClane froze.
"He went to deal with the bomb."
A beat.
"…It exploded."
"What?!"
McClane's pupils shrank.
"No… no, no, no…"
He shoved through the crowd like a madman.
"Move! Out of the way!"
"I should've taken it!" Keung shouted, his voice tight.
"Why did it still explode? Didn't you get the call?!"
"I got it!" McClane snapped back.
"But that bastard changed the rules!"
"He said both of us had to be there—he twisted it at the last second!"
"…He's just messing with us."
Then, quieter—
"I don't believe Dove is dead."
"I need to see him."
The crowd was too dense.
Too chaotic.
They couldn't push through.
Then—
Coo… coo…
Both of them froze.
That sound—
They looked up at the same time.
Through the thick cloud of dust—
A white dove broke through the haze.
Behind it—
A silhouette.
The dove circled once in the air.
Then descended slowly.
And landed—
On someone's shoulder.
A figure stepped forward onto the twisted roof of the train.
Dust drifted away.
The face became clear.
Luca.
"DOVE!!!"
Keung grabbed his head, eyes wide.
"Is that really you?! Am I hallucinating?!"
McClane let out a long breath, almost laughing from sheer disbelief.
"Jesus Christ…"
"You're still alive?!"
Luca casually brushed the dust off his coat.
Then glanced down at himself.
"The hem's just a little dirty."
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Thx to Kayopa 77 for becoming my P Knight, my cats is eating big tonight.
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