"So, is the FBI officially taking over now?"
Reacher had been silent for most of the drive back from Atlantic City, but as they entered New York City, he finally spoke up.
"That depends on how far you want to take this," Jack replied, surprising him slightly.
"This case involves terrorist activities. That means not only will the FBI be involved, but DHS is already in.
They've flagged every alias from Franz's flash drive.
We can stop the arms deal.
But whether we bring down everyone involved—including the people responsible for your friends' deaths—that's still up in the air.
Especially if some of them are high-level officials."
Jack might work for the FBI, but he knew how the agency operated.
There were times when it would strike hard without hesitation—
And other times when it would hesitate because of who was involved.
Reacher wanted justice for his friends.
The FBI just wanted a win.
If New Era Technologies had military or political connections, things could get messy.
The FBI and DHS weren't afraid of causing problems—but only if the payoff was worth it.
Since the case was labeled as a terrorism investigation, the official probe would continue.
But Jack had no idea how deep the FBI and DHS would be willing to dig.
If New Era Technologies was directly involved in the assassinations, or if the people behind the arms deal had ordered the killings—
Reacher wouldn't let it slide.
But from the FBI's perspective, as long as they stopped the illegal weapons deal, that was good enough.
Catching the masterminds?
That was optional.
Because when cases reached the political level, the default playbook was always negotiation and compromise.
Hell, the U.S. government had once supported the same terrorists who later carried out 9/11.
Did anyone in the U.S. government ever take responsibility for that?
No.
They killed the mastermind, called it a win, and moved on.
This case was no different.
The moment the FBI and DHS officially started investigating New Era Technologies, politicians and military officials would start distancing themselves.
If things got too hot, some low-level scapegoats would get thrown under the bus—
Maybe two guys found dead with eight bullets in their backs in an "apparent suicide."
And the FBI?
Wouldn't push any further.
Not unless there was more political gain at stake.
Not unless there was an internal power struggle.
"You can wait and see what the official investigation turns up," Jack said.
"See if it leads to the real masterminds.
Then find a way to deal with them."
"Or you can keep digging on your own."
"See what's really hiding beneath the surface."
Jack had given them a choice.
If they wanted to expose the real culprits without triggering a full-blown cover-up,
They would need to act first—and force their enemies into the open.
"I'd rather personally bring justice to our friends," Reacher said immediately.
"Make some noise."
"See who comes crawling out of the woodwork."
Jack understood why.
Waiting for an official investigation meant giving up control.
It meant some people would get away.
And if they waited too long, their only option for revenge would be assassination.
Reacher had nothing to lose.
But Nigeli, O'Donnell, and Dixon had families.
They couldn't afford to burn everything down for this.
Reacher also didn't want to drag Jack into another Margrave-style bloodbath.
That time, their enemies had been clear-cut.
And they had IRS backing.
This time?
The enemy was unknown.
And Jack was an official FBI agent.
Reacher wasn't about to drag him into the deep end.
This path was riskier.
But it kept them in control.
And if they uncovered the real masterminds, they could choose how to strike.
"Alright," Jack said.
"But before we head back—"
He pulled up a location on his phone and showed it to Nigeli.
"We're making a stop here."
"NYPD Headquarters?"
Nigeli looked stunned.
—
"Shane Langston. Former NYPD Third Precinct Commander."
"Eight years ago, he and several officers were investigated by Internal Affairs."
"But after they all resigned, the charges just… disappeared."
Inside the NYPD commissioner's office, Frank Reagan pushed a thick file toward Jack.
His face was grim.
"Langston?"
Reacher's memory was sharp.
"Wasn't he listed as Director of Security at New Era Technologies?"
Jack had shown him that employee roster earlier.
"It's not just Langston," Jack said, flipping through the documents.
"All of the officers who resigned are now working in New Era Technologies' security department."
"In other words—"
"New Era's entire security team is made up of dirty ex-cops from the NYPD Third Precinct."
"Except for Tony Swan."
Frank Reagan sighed.
"I wasn't commissioner back then," he said.
"But I won't use that as an excuse.
Internal Affairs tried to investigate, but a New York City councilman interfered."
"Langston used old connections to pull your records."
"Including your fake Jack Ryan identity."
"We've already detained the officers who accessed the system. This is what they confessed."
Reagan slid another statement across the desk.
"Don't tip them off yet," Jack said after skimming through it.
Then he stood up to leave.
"Let me know if you need anything," Reagan said, shaking his hand.
Outside NYPD headquarters, Reacher was still processing.
"So… last night, the guy on the phone—"
"Was probably Langston."
Reacher frowned.
"But why was the NYPD commissioner so…"
"Cooperative?"
Jack smirked and shrugged dramatically.
"Maybe because he owes me a few favors."
—
At their Long Island field office, they met Joey Reacher.
He was dressed in a black suit, accompanied by two DHS agents.
After greeting his brother, Joey led them to the conference room.
One of the DHS agents—a man named Omar Karim—looked nervous.
He spoke first.
"We made a mistake."
When the FBI flagged the list of aliases from Franz's flash drive, DHS immediately marked them for tracking.
Then they found something.
Two days ago, a man using the alias Adrian Mount arrived from Los Angeles.
Then he vanished.
That same day, two passport forgers were found murdered under a highway overpass.
By that afternoon, another alias—Alan McBride—boarded a flight from LA to Denver.
Then, last night, DHS tracked Alan McBride booking a ticket from Denver to New York.
So they set up an airport sting in Denver.
But "AM" never showed.
Either he got spooked—
Or something else happened.
"Why the hell didn't you wait until New York to catch him?" Nigeli snapped.
"If he spotted the sting at Denver Airport, that means we lost him.
And we can't track his aliases anymore."
______
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