10:00 PM, August 25th
Two weeks had passed; the Hightonian government could not coordinate a strategy with the army which would retake the news station while preserving the life of the First Daughter. Negotiation was not on the table; the President had tried to convince his officials that it should be an option, but they warned that negotiating with terrorists was in violation of Hightonian policy and set a dangerous precedent. Ever since the President's rash phone call on Day 4, the Mansion had rejected all calls from the news station. And now, with 14 days passed, the terrorists prepared to put their plan into action.
The colonel walked into the room that they had kept Helena locked in. She lay on her makeshift bed, praying for her father to issue an order to seize back control of the station. "Fourteen days have passed," said the colonel, pointing towards the clock. "We will permit you one final sleep; if a deal is not reached by 8:00 tomorrow morning, you will join Pavlov at 8:01." She shuttered at the words but did not respond. She lay in the bed silently and stared at the ceiling as the colonel walked out of the room. He locked the door using an old fashioned key in the door. It clicked loudly. There were no windows here; it was a storage room where microphones were kept. Was all hope lost for Helena? She thought this to herself. She was tired. One half thought that she should get sleep, the other knew that she may have nothing to rest for. The clock ticked along. She did not lie down. Around 3 in the morning, the light under the door flicked off. It was now pitch dark. But the darkness turned out to be a motivator: perhaps, the terrorists' guard had been let down. The only problem was that she was locked in. If she were to escape, she would first need to figure out how to escape the room. What did she have, though? They had dressed him in business attire for the televised hostage videos, and she had not changed. Then, she had an idea...
Helena picked up the heels under her bed and put on socks that were inside her bed. She had a plan. She stood and walked toward the door. She picked up a pair of massive microphones, almost resembling large teddy bears. Using her free hand, she reached behind her back and took off her hair clip. She approached the door. How had she not thought of this before? A few months earlier she had seen a video on VidCast showing her how to unlock a door using a hair clip. And now, it might save her life. But she still had a long way to freedom. She would need to pass through two rooms before she would be able to attempt to smash through a window to escape onto the streets of the capital. Her arms were more than full but she soldier on. The door creaked slightly, but the slow opening of the door limited its sound. She slowly walked through the main room of the news station. There were two armed Kardonyszlavic soldiers in the room, but they were asleep. Helena was halfway there. She needed to open another door, though this one was unlocked. She tried to open it slowly, but it creaked loudly. Only one soldier was in that final room, and he was woken by the creaking of the door... it was none other than the colonel.
"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" He yelled as he stood from his sleep... from his pocket, he pulled out a tiny handgun. For Helena, this seemed like the end. For the colonel, too, she thought this would be the end of Helena Calabrese. But he had a weakness that he had grown unaware of. Helena did not put her hands in the air as the colonel began to cock his handgun. They stared at each other in a standoff. The terrorist prepared to shoot the First Daughter of Highton dead. As he pulled the trigger, she lifted the two microphone sets in front of her head, neck, and heart. He pulled the trigger, but the fluffiness of the mic smothered the shot. He tried to pull the trigger again for a second shot, but nothing happened. Unbeknownst to him, there had only been one bullet left. Nothing happened. Helena turned and chucked one heel at the window in an attempt to break it. The colonel lunged forward to tackle her, but it was to no avail; a swift kick between the legs sent him to the floor. Helena fled out the broken window as Hightonian soldier camped outside stormed inside. Every last terrorist was either arrested or committed suicide to avoid arrest.