Chapter 494: Time to Test Our Acting Skills Again

With surveillance now handled by the military, the rest of the team found themselves temporarily idle. Matt grabbed a chair, found a quiet corner, and began making phone calls. From a distance, Jack watched him switch between shouting at people and quietly reporting back, changing his tone and expression countless times within thirty minutes. His acting skills were nothing short of impressive.

Michael, clearly used to Matt's antics, filled his stomach with a burger and gulped down a large soda before burping in satisfaction. He handed a cigar to Jack, who noticed that both Michael and Matt seemed to have mysteriously become wealthier since the start of this operation. Jack didn't bother to question the CIA's methods of making money, and the two stepped outside to smoke together.

Not long after, Matt joined them, patting Michael on the shoulder and snatching a cigar from his hand. The three men sat in a row on the steps, puffing away.

It wasn't until they had smoked more than half the cigar that Matt finally spoke.

"Our intel on the Matamoros cartel and the Reyes cartel was incomplete. I just got word that today might be Carlos's daughter's birthday."

He scratched his head in frustration, sending dandruff flying. "Also, Carlos Reyes's eldest son is 25 years old and recently married the daughter of a 'CJGG' leader."

Jack almost choked on his smoke and coughed a few times. "Are you sure you didn't piss someone off inside your agency?"

The first bit of information could be dismissed as an oversight, but the second? How could they have missed that?

Thanks to his recent studies, Jack had become somewhat of an expert on drug cartels. "CJGG" was the strongest faction that emerged after El Chapo Guzmán was extradited to the U.S., rising from the many branches of the Sinaloa cartel. 

Unlike the traditional drug trafficking groups, "CJGG" had adapted to new trends. After securing control over major port cities in southwestern Mexico, they started sourcing legal chemicals from around the world to synthesize fentanyl. Disguised as legitimate painkillers, these drugs were smuggled into the U.S., competing with large pharmaceutical companies for market share. Compared to "CJGG," the Reyes cartel was a small-time operation.

The last piece of news Jack had read about "CJGG" was their armed takeover of a small town in southern Mexico's Guerrero state. They had mobilized over a hundred fighters, disguised as Mexican Marines, supported by an armed helicopter and three T-62 tanks. The town's government surrendered after just an hour, and that night, all town officials and police officers, down to the janitors, were executed by the cartel.

That was why Jack questioned if Matt had upset someone at the CIA. It felt like they were rookies in a video game, just stepping out in their basic gear, looking to fight a few goblins, only to be ambushed by the final boss.

"Well, it's not a major figure, just a minor player who isn't even on our watch list. I double-checked—'CJGG' is still focused on expanding in the south and remains allied with Sinaloa. They don't have plans to move north."

Matt looked troubled. This news had clearly thrown him off. Their mission was to clean up the smaller cartels along Mexico's northern border, near the U.S. If they had to go up against "CJGG," it wouldn't align with their objectives or serve the interests of their superiors.

"Maybe let Alessandro talk to Carlos Reyes?" Jack suggested. It seemed like the only viable option. Since their intelligence had failed them, it wasn't too late to salvage the situation. Carlos Reyes himself would surely know better than anyone else what would happen to his family cartel without him at the helm.

Matt sighed, flicking his cigarette butt far away. "That's probably our best bet for now. I'll handle it. Alessandro has already placed the girl in a safe house in Brownsville. The rest is up to you."

Jack nodded, stood up, and stubbed out his cigarette. He headed inside to get Jane. They had never intended to harm the girl. After staging her kidnapping by the Matamoros cartel and bringing her back to the U.S., it was time for the FBI to swoop in and play the good guys.

By evening, Jack, Jane, and a hostage rescue team arrived at an isolated location on the outskirts of Brownsville. The area was remote, with no signs of life for miles, except for a lone farmhouse standing in the middle of nowhere.

Signaling the team to hold back, Jack approached the window and waved to Alessandro inside.

Alessandro nodded and gestured to a mercenary beside him. The mercenary led the girl into the bathroom, removed her hood and noise-canceling headphones, and then locked the door behind her.

This mercenary wouldn't reappear in the operation to prevent anyone from recognizing him.

"You alright?" Jack asked Alessandro as he walked out of the house looking a little down. Jack wondered if he was upset about not being able to personally deal with Carlos.

"I'm fine. Just take care of her," Alessandro said, patting Jack on the shoulder with sadness in his eyes.

It dawned on Jack that the man was feeling sentimental. If Alessandro's daughter were still alive, she'd probably be around the same age as the girl inside, nearing adulthood.

This was classic TV drama material. No matter how tough the male leads were, they always seemed to have a soft spot for their daughters. Even though Alessandro had ruthlessly killed two of Alarcón's young sons not long ago, he was suddenly all soft-hearted when it came to this teenage girl.

As Alessandro and the mercenary drove away, Jack and the team waited for nearly an hour. As the sky darkened, Jack signaled the group to move into position.

"FBI!"

"Bang! Bang!"

"Clang!"

"Rat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat!"

After a brief but intense "battle," the "hostage-takers" were eliminated, and the rescue team successfully secured the otherwise empty farmhouse.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

With the house secured, Jack approached the bathroom door, trying the handle and pretending to find it locked.

"Someone's in here! I need cover!"

Without waiting, Jack kicked open the flimsy wooden door. No one was standing behind it, so he moved forward cautiously, his Glock raised. Through the frosted glass of the shower door, he could see a small figure crouched in the corner.

Hearing soft sobbing from inside, Jack "carefully" slid the door open. The little girl was huddled in the corner, her head buried in her knees, too scared to move.

"There's someone here," Jack called out, still keeping up appearances. He didn't immediately approach the girl, maintaining the act by keeping his gun trained on her and shouting to the team outside.

"Please don't hurt me! I didn't see anything! I don't know anything!" The girl cried in Spanish, her face streaked with tears, genuinely terrified.

"Is everything clear?" Jack asked, still playing his role.

"All clear!" a team member shouted back.

Jack holstered his gun and plastered a reassuring smile on his face, one he hadn't used in a while.

"Don't be afraid. I'm with the FBI. You're safe now, everything's okay," he said, extending his left hand to her.

The girl hesitated before raising her bound hands, letting Jack pull her to her feet.

"Hold still, I'll get these off," Jack said, pulling a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and showing it to her to reassure her before carefully cutting the plastic ties.

"Who is she?" Jane appeared at the bathroom door, looking puzzled, her acting just as convincing as Jack's.

"I don't know. Maybe a kidnapping victim, or perhaps just an unlucky stowaway."

Jack delivered the pre-rehearsed lines, handing the girl over to Jane. Jane gently wiped the girl's tear-streaked face with a towel she grabbed from the rack.

"What's your name?" Jane asked, her gentle touch calming the girl down.

"Isabel," the girl answered hesitantly, choosing not to reveal her last name.

"What happened to your face?" Jane paused as she noticed several scratches on the girl's cheek that had been hidden by her long hair.

Jack was momentarily stunned. How did that happen? The guys shouldn't have been that rough.

He lifted the girl's hair and saw three long scratch marks, with no bruising. They looked like they had been made by fingernails.

The girl touched her face absentmindedly, as if today's events felt like a lifetime ago. After a long pause, she muttered, "I got into a fight at school today."

"School?" Jane looked surprised, glancing at the girl's bright green uniform, which bore the logo of a church school. It was as if she had discovered something entirely new.

"You're from Mexico?"

—

The small wooden house was now surrounded by flashing police lights and ambulances. As Jack and Jane escorted Isabel out of the house, they passed two "bodies" on the ground, already zipped up in body bags.

Jack quickened his pace to block the girl's view. It seemed like he was protecting her from seeing the corpses, but in reality, he was trying to cover up the fact that the "dead" bodies were still breathing, albeit poorly concealed.

Thankfully, it was almost completely dark by now, so there was no risk of being exposed. Jack put Isabel and Jane into the armored Suburban he had arranged, then got into the driver's seat and headed toward Dallas.

Isabel may have been just a sixteen-year-old girl, but she was also the daughter of a drug

 lord. If they were going to keep up appearances, taking her straight to a military base wouldn't cut it—they weren't fooling anyone.

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