Chapter 119: Maybe We Should Take a Bath First

The battle ended in just ten minutes, but what followed was almost comical. The last remaining mercenary, his spirit broken, walked out of the villa with a gun to an old man's head.

"Let me go, and you can have this guy."

Jack jumped down from the second-floor rooftop, performing a roll to absorb the impact, and watched the scene unfold in disbelief. It seemed these so-called mercenaries were not only subpar in skill but also lacked intelligence.

Without a word, Braxton stepped forward and shot the mercenary in the head.

The old man flinched and took a moment to process what had just happened. Staring at the two brothers standing before him, he seemed to struggle to recognize them.

"It's you, the accountant? I hired you. And you, the hitman. Why? I paid you! And who the hell are you?" he demanded, pointing to Jack, who had most of his face covered by a ski cap.

"Men, women, children—I gave them hope, helped them overcome disabilities. Do you know what that means? Once the company goes public, we'll make billions. This money will fund neural prosthetics, nanotechnology..." the old man rambled on, trying to justify himself.

Chris, unimpressed, drew his P14.

"Bang!"

A bullet hole appeared in Blake Boone's forehead, and he fell to the ground like a lifeless log.

"Because you wanted to kill Dana," Chris said, holstering his gun.

"Dana? Who's Dana?" Braxton asked curiously. He didn't know the full story and assumed his brother's rampage was due to being targeted for assassination.

"A pretty girl. She was the accountant who first discovered the financial discrepancies in the company," Jack chimed in, putting his gun away and calling for Hannah to come pick them up.

"Really? You finally have a girl you like? I was worried you'd be alone forever," Braxton said sincerely, happy for his brother.

"You should go clean up the scene," Chris suggested, his tone slightly awkward as he tried to divert the conversation. Although it was dark, his body language and abrupt change of topic betrayed his discomfort. The earlier firefight hadn't rattled him nearly as much as this topic did.

Braxton returned shortly, carrying two hard drives. Hannah pulled up in Chris's F150 Raptor, with Chris's AWM sniper rifle stowed in the back. The three of them climbed into the truck, leaving the chaos behind.

Jack, sitting in the passenger seat, struggled to remove his heavy gear, handing it piece by piece to Chris in the back seat. When he got to the Russian-made "Viper" handgun, he hesitated but eventually passed it over. Jack admired the powerful pistol, but like the FK 7.5 Chris had given him earlier, the ammunition it used was too distinctive. Both the 7N29 armor-piercing rounds and standard bullets were too conspicuous.

Jack decided he'd look for a less conspicuous gun, perhaps a 1911 model similar to Chris's P14, without serial numbers, fitted with a practical Osprey silencer for his off-the-books operations.

By the time they reached the hotel, dawn was breaking. After such a significant operation, Jack and Hannah couldn't linger, and the Wolf brothers needed to make their exit as well.

Chris had an easy plan: head back to Plainville, hook his Clear Breeze RV to the F150, and hit the road. Justin had already deregistered his old identity and activated a new one.

Braxton planned to accompany his beloved brother to the farm in LA for a while and eventually bring Justin and his daughter over.

Jack and Hannah were preparing to leave. It was Sunday night, and Jack, ever the diligent patrol officer, had to be back at work on Monday.

Chris stood in front of Jack, head down, and after a long pause, offered a sincere thank you.

Though socially awkward, Chris wasn't unintelligent. He understood that Jack had taken significant risks to help him, bringing along his FBI girlfriend and participating in the final battle.

Jack, never one to hide his intentions, laid out his plan and formally invited Chris to help him take down the Kreiner Foundation.

Braxton enthusiastically agreed to assist. Though they had only reunited for less than a day, he sensed a notable change in his brother, all thanks to Jack.

Chris, while still a man of few words, had become more willing to communicate and even praised Braxton—a rare occurrence.

Braxton's past had been tough. Growing up, he had endured their father's brutal training alongside Chris and had been left alone in Europe as an adult. He didn't learn of their father's death until afterward, and after Chris went to prison, he avoided Braxton altogether.

Now, unexpectedly reunited and learning that Chris had been planning to find him, Braxton was deeply moved and genuinely grateful to Jack, viewing him as a benefactor.

They arranged to meet in LA in a week. Jack and Hannah took their rental Chevy Malibu to the airport. By the time they arrived home that evening, Hannah was barely able to keep her eyes open. Unlike Jack, she couldn't function on just a few hours of sleep.

But when Jack carried her to bed and began to undo her shirt, Hannah woke up, wide-eyed and staring at him.

"Maybe we should take a bath first?" she suggested weakly.

Jack poured some medicinal oil into his hand, warmed it up, and firmly massaged the bruised spot on her right shoulder.

"What are you thinking? You fired 30 rounds from a Barrett. Do you want to lose your arm?"

"Ouch," Hannah winced.

"Good, it should hurt. What did you learn at Quantico? What if we needed backup later?"

Jack's hands worked her shoulder with gentle pressure. Tears nearly welled up in Hannah's eyes. Her whole body felt weak, except for her defiant mouth.

"I could have managed another magazine," she retorted.

"On the way back, I noticed you could barely lift your right arm."

Feeling a bit of pity, Jack discreetly used a bit of healing magic as he continued massaging, especially as Hannah leaned into him, her body pressing close.

"Go back to sleep. I'll stay with you."

Jack felt a twinge of restlessness. Despite the recent intense battle, his old issues weren't entirely resolved.

Hannah didn't speak, just gazed at him with large, watery eyes, her lashes fluttering.

Knowing she was exhausted, Jack hesitated to make her suffer more. They stared at each other until Hannah's eyes started to show a hint of sadness. Finally, unable to hold back, she bit him playfully.

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