Re:life with Karmic Gacha (Modern Family)

Chapter 301: White House Down

Chapter 301: Chapter 301: White House Down

[General POV]

"I have to warn you, I have the knowledge, but this'll be my first surgery—ever," Edward muttered casually as he slipped on a pair of gloves and donned a surgeon's gown. He even wore a hair cover.

Edward first hooked up a blood pack to counter Casey's blood loss, then grabbed the portable X-ray machine to scan Casey's leg. The images revealed several bullets lodged inside, and as he expected, the artery was partially ruptured.

The room was meticulously organized, with surgical instruments neatly arranged on a tray beside him. A bright overhead lamp illuminated the surgical bed, where Casey lay, his face pale and sweat glistening on his forehead. The surgical area was constructed using plastic covers, ensuring a sterile environment before Edward even brought Casey inside.

"Are you sure you can do it?" Sarah Walker asked worriedly, standing just outside the room. Edward already dealt with the cut on her forehead, so her bleeding had stopped. Then, he plastered a cute cat bandage on her head.

Casey chuckled, his voice strained but lighthearted. "Heh~ He already has everything you need for a surgery, kid. You're even better prepared than some hospitals. But remember, if it comes down to saving me or decrypting that thing, you know what to choose, right?"

Edward ignored him, focusing intently on the task ahead. "The surgery will take at least an hour, assuming no complications arise. This will be off the books, so make sure it doesn't come back to bite me later." He negotiated, injecting anesthetic into Casey's body, using a primitive method to knock him out since there was no anesthesiologist present.

Casey nodded, his voice growing delirious. "Don't worry. Technically, I don't even exist in this world. If I die, just throw my body into the ocean."

"That'll just pollute the ocean. It's dirty enough already." Edward checked Casey's vitals on the monitor before sterilizing the wound. "

Sarah, have you connected the cube to the central processor?" he asked, making a straight incision on Casey's leg. Blood spurted onto his medical gown, but Edward didn't even flinch.

Incredibly worried, Sarah replied quickly, "It's decrypting. You just need to focus on the surgery"

Edward had mentioned earlier that he wrote a program for this, but the actual decryption was being handled by Robin, who was working diligently to crack the code.

"I know~I know." Edward said dismissively. Sarah had seconds thought about the whole thing and mumbled, "Maybe this is a bad idea."

"A miniscule chance to live if he did this surgery with me, 100% chance of death if he went to a hospital. Even if this is a bad idea, you don't really have a choice."

Sarah also understood the situation but she couldn't help but make a small request, "Maybe you shouldn't talk while doing this?"

"I wear a face mask. It'll be fine."

"That's not what I was worried about." Sarah replied defeatedly.

As Edward continued with the surgery, he was thoroughly impressed with his own skills. In a matter of minutes, he removed five bullet shards from Agent Casey's leg. Even Agent Sarah was entranced by the skillful procedure unfolding.

'I think I underestimated my abilities', Edward thought to himself as he searched for the ruptured artery.

'Kuroo Hazama... I never considered it before, but isn't he the miracle doctor from the Black Jack manga? I didn't think much on those emergency first aid skills, but it's already enough to handle a complicated surgery.'

With precise movements, he tied off the partially ruptured artery to control the bleeding, ensuring that blood flow to the surrounding tissues remained intact before sealing the incision with stitches. It took no longer than 45 minutes for him to complete the surgery, alone.

"Call me the miracle doctor, Black Jack from now on Sarah." Edward chuckled as he finished stitching Agent Casey's leg.

"It's done?" Sarah widened her eyes in horror. "Are you sure you did it right?" She asked skeptically and with concern.

Edward scoffed and gave her a stink eye, "It's done. The bleeding has stopped. While he won't be able to use his legs normally for a few months as he undergoes physical therapy, he will regain full mobility and be able to walk normally again... I think."

"YOU THINK!?" Sarah exclaimed, frazzled. Edward chuckled as he removed his mask. "You can pray for his health if you want, but you also need to do your job. You have to get the files to the right place after they're unlocked, don't you?"

Meanwhile, the helicopter monitoring the house captured a playful scene: Selena and Maggie were using sofa cushions to hit each other and running toward the cliff edge.

Maggie teased Selena from a distance just as Selena threw a pillow at her, missing and sending it plummeting into the sea. Both girls perched on the balcony, gazing at the lost cushion in disbelief, before Maggie tossed her own cushion overboard. Their laughter echoed as they headed back inside.

"This is quite risky," Frankie muttered, turning to Ted. As Maggie and Selena entered the living room, they gave him a thumbs-up.

Ted noted their success and explained to Frankie, "It's easier to say they tossed it in the ocean in a moment of excitement than to hide it. It might raise suspicions, but at least there's an explanation."

Maggie shot Ted a disbelieving look, scolding him, "Now I see where Ed gets his smug, 'smarter-than-thou' attitude."

Selena, looking worried, asked, "Will I get in trouble for this?"

"No. We'll arrange transport for you to get away," Frankie replied. "They'll be here soon, but we need to wait for the perfect moment for you to leave."

"Why?" Selena questioned. Ted responded, "Because everyone will be glued to the TV during this historic event. Right now, we can play it off as if we didn't know anything was happening, but we need to act like ordinary people would."

"Right now?" Maggie asked, slightly confused.

"Yeah, right now. Frankie will pretend she just turned on the TV. We need everyone to focus on it when the moment comes. Call the others sunbathing, too, in an urgent manner. Typically, they use infrared sensors to monitor what's happening inside a target's house, so we have to play our parts well."

With a solid plan in place, Edward remained focused on the surgery, while Ted took charge of everything else. Everyone knew their roles, creating the illusion that they had just realized what was happening in the country.

"Damn, the babes have left," one of the agents grumbled as Gloria and Daddario entered the house. "Anything unusual?" he asked his partner, who was monitoring the infrared scan.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. They seem to be aware of what's happening. I can't make out the male in the living room—it could be the dad or the son," the partner replied, his expression serious. "They look pretty frazzled, and a few of them are on the phone. Can we tap into that conversation?"

"Negative. Newgate's house blocks all espionage efforts. We can only rely on visual surveillance," his partner responded, frustration evident in his voice.

...

(A/N: 'White House Down' movie as a reference for this. I do not know anything about how the White House works lol)

-White House-

As chaos erupted around the White House, John Cale's heart raced. The man who looked like Channing Tatum had come to this place for an interview to become a Secret Service agent, eager to show his daughter, Emily, the White House in the process. He had brought her along for the trip, but now he couldn't find her.

Panic clawed at him as he rushed down the corridor, glancing at the fallen Secret Service agents.

Who could have imagined such a calculated, ruthless assault on the very institution that symbolized democracy and security for the country? This was not just an attack on the White House; it was an assault on everything they believed in.

Suddenly, John mistakenly entered the wrong corridor, where two heavily armed men stood guard. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, turning on his heel to flee. The mercenaries shouted, "YOU! STOP!"

As they aimed their guns, bullets tore through the walls, shattering ornaments and narrowly missing him. John seized a firearm from the body of a fallen Secret Service agent, but it jammed in his hands just as the mercenaries closed in. It was too late.

"Identify yourself!" one mercenary barked. They had dispatched the agents but were keeping the tourists as hostages. John's status was just that—a tourist caught in the chaos.

"I'm, I'm part of the group," he stammered, raising his hands slowly.

"You're pretty agile for a citizen," the mercenary replied skeptically.

"Just kill him. Why do you even care who he is?" the other mercenary said, his tone casual as he aimed his gun at Cale.

Just when John thought everything was over, a black cape fluttered in front of him. He widened his eyes in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

The President aimed a gun at the mercenaries from behind them and opened fire.

Bang! Bang!

The bullets struck their heads, and their corpses fell limply to the ground.

"Sir, how are you still alive?" John Cale muttered incredulously as the President dispatched the threat.

President Obama smiled slightly and said, "Practice."

He maintained his composure, using his velvety voice to explain, "After the first assassination attempt, which I survived only by divine intervention, I realized that fate would only save me once. I needed to take my safety into my own hands."

"That bombing?" John asked, recalling the event where people hailed him as invulnerable.

The President waved off the question. "We should change our location. The others will be here soon." However, he didn't fully reveal how he had managed to stay alive until now.

Underneath his suit, there was a layer of protection: a tight-fitting black suit made from bulletproof and heat-resistant materials. He had been shot at a few times already, and that suit was what had saved him.

A custom order was made for the protection after he saw the creator using it to create a Batman suit for Halloween. If the Secret Service rules weren't so restrictive, he would've bought a lot more things from Newgate.

"I apologize, Cale. I brought this upon us. This...Civil war, this only happens because I want the best for the citizens." The President said in an apologetic manner. ""I'm very sorry to implicate you and your daughter in this."

Without the confirmation of the President's dead or alive status, the bureaucracy had to move on to the next person in line. This meant activating the chain of command, which typically places the Vice President in charge during such emergencies.

With the potential for chaos looming, they had to ensure that leadership remained intact and that decisions could be made swiftly to maintain national security.

Skip Tyler, a megalomaniac hacker, was trying to access Norad from the White House's computer room. The man was wanted for attempting to send a missile to Apple headquarters over their music sharing policy.

He had been ordered to kill only one target—the Vice President—after the VP was sworn in as President. This was the only way to ensure that the position would pass to the mastermind behind the attack.

However, Skip had something else in mind. "You're trying to be better than me? Huh? You may have a defensive firewall that I cannot crack, but when I send the missile to your house, we'll know who's the better genius between the two of us. Fucking Newgate."

Time estimated before he broke through Norad's system; 30 minutes.

...

"They are throwing the evidence into the sea. Prepare a team to breach the house. I'll be there in five minutes," Agent Wainwright, the CIA team leader, said as he sped up the car toward Edward's mansion after receiving the urgent report.

Soon, two black SUVs pulled into the driveway, and seven men, equipped with guns and bulletproof vests, swiftly breached the house. The door was unlocked, making their entry easier.

When Agent Wainwright entered the living room, he halted abruptly at the sight of Edward, casually in short pants and an open robe, crunching on Doritos from a bag in front of him.

"Huh? Who are you guys?" Edward asked, alarm briefly flashing across his face, but it relaxed as he noticed their badges. Agent Wainwright caught the subtle change in Edward's expression, leading to his confusion.

"Agent Wainwright, CIA," he announced, pulling out his badge. Edward laughed dryly, "Is this about what I did? Come on, I didn't do anything worse than what others are doing. One could argue I'm a patriot, betting on the country's fate."

"And what exactly are you doing now, Mr. Newgate?" Agent Wainwright asked, gripping his gun tightly. Noticing this, Edward raised his hands defensively, "Whoa, whoa. I'm just trading. Go bother those on Wall Street. My trade volume is minuscule compared to theirs."

"Trade?" the African American agent beside him asked, puzzled.

"Is that not it?" Edward replied, equally confused.

"What exactly have you done?" Agent Wainwright pressed sternly, though his grip relaxed slightly.

Edward smirked, casual and unfazed, "Alright. It's a bit opportunistic, but I pumped $500 million into the stock market to benefit from the tragedy. If Wall Street can do it, why shouldn't I?"

He kept his explanation vague and to the point. It wasn't uncommon to benefit from chaos; traders had profited from events like 9/11 or the 2008 crash—those with the insight, at least.

Agent Wainwright quickly checked Edward's statement and found it true. He holstered his gun and said calmly, "That may be exploitative, but it's not illegal. Unfortunately, we didn't come here for that."

"Then why are you here, Agent Wainwright—" Edward stepped closer, admiringly gazing at him, "Gosh, 'Wainwright.' Your face and name sound like you're the main character in a detective novel. Though, being CIA, your name might not be your real name."

Wainwright maintained his poker face, continuing, "We have credible information that you're the target of two rogue agents who have escaped with highly classified information. If it got out, it would be incredibly damaging to the country—"

"Do you want some Doritos, Agent Wainwright?" Edward suddenly interjected, opening his bag of chips and munching loudly. Wainwright felt a flicker of disgust but carried on, "We're creating a perimeter around this mansion to ensure no one gets inside."

"And no one can get outside too, am I right?" Edward guessed with a mischievous smile. The agent was perplexed, realizing that Edward was enjoying the situation.

Agent Wainwright looked into the sofa direction, and his nose smells the cleaning chemical left by Ted cleaning up Agent Casey's blood. " Was someone injured?" He asked Edward, his gaze piercing.

Edward didn't even flinch and said, "How did you know? Yeah, it's me." Edward showed his bandaged barefoot, which still has blood marks on it. "Selena crashed some plates, and I stepped on the broken glass." He explained it simply.

It wasn't fake blood. To ensure the story was genuine, he actually stepped on a broken piece of glass. There were glass shards in the trash can, even tissues with his blood on it inside.

Two agents went to confirm Edward's story, and it all checked out. However, Agent Wainwright was still skeptical. "Mind if we look around?" He asked.

Ted, who was hiding with Agent Casey and Agent Sarah, gulped his saliva as he heard the conversation. Edward waved his hand dismissively and said, "Not at all. Mi casa en su casa. You can look around if you want. Just don't touch anything. Most of my stuff is expensive. Also, take off your shoes. I don't want you to track dirt in my home."

Edward suddenly turned to the group of girls, most of whom looked horrified as they saw the agents and comforted them, "Don't worry. He's one of the good guys."

As the agents split up and went to search the house, Edward stayed behind with Agent Wainwright. He suddenly whispered to him, "Any idea when this will all die down?"

"We're working on it." Agent Wainwright replied casually. From all of Edward's reaction, he could sense that the 'rogue' agents hadn't contacted him yet, nor he knew what was going on in the background. However, he still has a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

"You seem chipper for a citizen who's watching his country in tragedy," Agent Wainwright said, his tone instigative. Edward chuckled, turning to the agent and speaking in a low voice, "I know this is a tragedy and all, but I'm actually quite excited about the prospect."

"What prospect?" the agent asked, raising an eyebrow.

Just then, Gloria walked toward them, intending to ask a question when she accidentally overheard Edward's words.

"You're such a naive Agent Wainwright. Don't you know what happens when these things settle down? Let me tell you about it." He wrapped an arm around the agent, leaning in conspiratorially. "After 9/11, do you know what people did? They hooked up."

"What?" The agent was incredulous.

Edward nodded, enthusiasm spilling over. "Yeah. They hooked up. There's something about tragedy and death that makes people... well, you know... horny. Right now, I'm the only man in a house full of gorgeous, famous, enchanting women. By the time this is over, I'd have probably slept with all of them—"

"EDWARD!" Gloria shouted suddenly, grabbing his ear and pulling him upward. "OW—OW—OW! Gloria—"

"You disgusting pig!" she scolded. "I can't believe you!"

"What happened? What did he do?" Taylor asked, a smirk creeping onto her face.

"No, don't tell them—" Edward begged, but Gloria turned to the girls and revealed his plan. Gasps of disbelief filled the room.

Selena stepped forward and slapped him across the face. "People are fighting for their lives, and all you can think about is sleeping with us? You make me sick!"

"Me too," Taylor added, delivering her own slap. Daddario, Selena, and Maggie all walked toward the door, disappointment etched on their faces.

Edward knew that they were afraid; to be part of the conspiracy and even helping, that's why he stood in the front, facing the agents himself. If anything goes wrong, he can use the protection spell he has to protect everyone. Robin could also handle the threat within seconds if it was necessary.

"Wait, girls! Where are you going? Alex, you said you wanted me to show you what I can do with the Doritos! Girls? Girls?... Come back!" Edward pleaded, but they ignored him. Agent Wainwright tried to intervene, but seeing the angry expressions on the girls' faces, he stepped aside. The target was only Newgate, after all.

"Um, don't forget your goody bags!" Edward called out apologetically. He turned to the agent with a slightly dissatisfied expression. "Damn it, man. You sold me out."

"I didn't even do anything," the agent retorted in disbelief.

"The house is clear," another agent announced after finishing his search. The basement Edward used was hidden by a concealed door, so they hadn't found the agents hiding there. Edward plopped down on the couch, grumbling as he stared at the TV.

A few moments passed before Edward, looking annoyed, asked, "Now that you've ruined my party, you're sure the agents will come here, right? I hate to think my 'sacrifice' was worthless."

Just then, Agent Wainwright received a phone call. "Hello, what do you have for me?"

The technical agent responded, "We have a facial recognition ping. Sarah Walker was stopped at a pharmaceutical store in East Burbank. She bought a few bandages and an emergency first aid kit."

Wainwright turned to his team, urgency etched on his face. "Two of you stay here. Everyone else, come with me." Even the helicopter team left as East Burbank was 2 hours away. They realized that they had made a mistake, but agent Wainwright still wanted to cover every bases.

"Wait! For real? You're leaving now!?" Edward shouted, disbelief and anger boiling over. "Fucking hell!" He cursed, his dissatisfaction evident. "Why the hell were you even here!?"

The two agents exchanged uncomfortable glances at Edward's outburst. He continued cursing as he approached them, "I could've been drowning in boobs. Instead, all I get is a sausage fest!"

"Sir, for your safety—" the African American agent tried to calm him down, but he didn't expect Edward to retaliate. In a swift motion, Edward stabbed the bald agent with a poisoned needle, targeting his neck. The sharp needle penetrated his throat and he took a step back as he gurgled in his own blood.

The African American agent quickly pointed his gun at Edward, but before he could fully aim, Edward kicked the back of his knees, bringing him down. He then delivered heavy punches to the agent's face, disarming him momentarily.

As the agent struggled, Edward stabbed his arm with a scalpel, forcing him to drop the gun. Before the agent could cry out, Edward landed another punch, knocking him out cold. The first agent lay paralyzed from the poison, while the second was left unconscious on the floor.

Edward straightened up, breathing heavily, and glanced around to ensure his surroundings were clear.

Once they were gone, Edward's childish tantrum shifted into a cold demeanor."Both of them actually slapped me." He contacted Robin and said, "They are out."

Sarah and Ted came out of hiding and immediately went to the living room.

"Where's the Rubicon?" Sarah asked anxiously.

Edward shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "Who knows?"

"Ed," Ted called, trying to get him to take the situation seriously.

Edward smiled and shrugged. "I'm just playing." He pulled out a small black cube, tossing it to Sarah. "Here. How you're going to get that to D.C., I have no idea. But my part is done."

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