Jack Redman was not who he seemed. Beneath his unassuming exterior as a regular party guest, he was a top-secret agent, working for one of the most covert agencies in the world. His mission was clear—protect the President at all costs.
It was a high-stakes night. Rumors had spread on social media that someone had threatened to take out the President during a party he was attending. The police had investigated, but the threat remained a mystery. They couldn’t track down the anonymous person who posted the chilling message, but Jack was on the case, posing as one of the President’s bodyguards.
The event was buzzing with excitement, but Jack couldn’t afford to let his guard down. He kept his eyes locked on the President all night, moving through the crowd, watching every movement, every gesture. The tension in the air was thick, and no one could shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.
As the night wore on, the President prepared to give his closing speech. Jack had been watching him for hours, but nature was calling, and he needed a break. He quickly excused himself, promising to return in time.
As Jack made his way to the restroom, he took a moment to glance out the window, hoping for a quick moment of peace. But what he saw next made his blood run cold.
In a building across the way, something was sticking out of the window. Jack squinted. It was unmistakable—a sniper’s muzzle.
The sniper was set up and aiming, and Jack knew instantly that the target was the President. He wasn’t sure why the shot hadn’t been fired yet. Maybe the sniper was waiting for the perfect moment, perhaps during the President’s speech when everyone’s attention would be focused on him.
Jack’s instincts kicked into overdrive. The situation was critical.
Without a second thought, Jack sprinted back to the President’s side, ignoring the crowd and the formalities. As the President stepped up to the podium to speak, Jack lunged forward, shoving the President aside just as the sound of a gunshot rang out through the room.
The loud bang echoed, and the room went silent for a moment, filled with tension and confusion. But as the chaos began to unfold, Jack’s heart raced, not knowing if his actions had been enough to save the President’s life.
Suddenly, everything went black.
“Jack! Dinner’s ready!”
Jack’s eyes snapped open. He was sitting in his own room, not at the party. The entire mission had been a dream. The wild sequence of events, the danger, the sniper—it had all played out in his imagination. He shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering feeling that it had all been too real.
Confused and a little shaken, he went downstairs and sat down to dinner. As he was finishing his meal and preparing to go to bed, he heard the door open. His father, the President, had returned home.
“Good night, Dad!” Jack said, still caught up in his thoughts.
“Good night, son,” his father replied, settling into a conversation with his mother in the other room. Jack could hear snippets of their conversation—how a brave secret agent named Jack had saved his father’s life that night. Jack’s father was speaking as though the events Jack had imagined were real.
The weight of it hit Jack all at once. Had it all been a dream?
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