"Standard CTR—Close Target Reconnaissance. This is well within our skill set," Major Blackburn nodded. The SEALs excelled at such operations.
Jason concluded the briefing with a summary: "This is a tracking mission. Everyone goes in light and low-profile. Use easily concealable weapons. Once Lasso's location is confirmed, we'll hand off the surveillance to the Mexican authorities. Gear up. We move out in 30 minutes."
Rita Alfaro left the base first, followed by Jack and Mandy Ellis. As the SEALs headed to the parking lot to board their vehicles, Jason called them back.
"Ten minutes. Change gear. Full tactical loadout—helmets, ballistic plates, full ammo load. Sonny, grab your machine gun. Trent, Brock, don't forget your pirate guns."
The team froze for a second, surprised. But their ingrained discipline kicked in, and they sprinted back to the armory, returning fully kitted for combat.
Colonel Martinez and Lieutenant Lopez, who were accompanying them, exchanged puzzled looks.
"Is there something I don't know about?" Martinez asked.
Jason, just finishing a quick gear check, nodded. "There's a high likelihood of an ambush. I can't disclose the source, but the risk of danger is significant. I recommend you two stay behind as backup. We may need QRF support."
Martinez's eyes narrowed. He quickly pieced together the context from the team's behavior and Jason's tone. Turning to Lopez, he issued a curt order:
"You'll stay at the operations center, follow Major Blackburn's lead, and avoid giving the soldiers any unusual orders. Business as usual, understood?"
Lopez hesitated for only a moment before snapping to attention with a crisp salute. He left quickly to carry out his orders.
"He's a good soldier," Jason remarked quietly.
Martinez sighed. "If possible, when this is over, see if you can help his family get to the United States."
Jason nodded. "I'll do what I can. I don't usually pull strings, but I'll make an exception."
The SEALs returned, fully armed. Trent and Brock had their "pirate guns," cut-down M79 grenade launchers strapped to their packs. The 40mm launchers, nicknamed "pirate guns," were invaluable in urban combat, adding significant firepower to a small unit.
"Are we going in hot?" Ray Perry asked, stuffing Jack's gear into the trunk and passing a heavy ballistic vest to Martinez.
"Maybe, maybe not," Jason replied, waving them into their vehicles. "I'll explain later."
An hour later, two dark SUVs parked discreetly near the Rosia Nightclub. Groups of scantily clad women walked arm in arm into the venue, their laughter carrying through the night.
Clay Spencer sighed wistfully. "We're really missing out by not going undercover in there."
"Hah! Count me out," Sonny snorted. "That place charges a thousand bucks for the crappiest vodka. For that money, I could hire five dancers for lap dances all night long. And the music? Sounds like a dying calf bawling for its mom."
"Alright, cut the chatter. Open team comms," Jason interrupted, his tone serious.
"We've got a potential problem. Tonight's mission might not go as planned. In short, there's a good chance this is a trap set by Doza using Lasso as bait."
The team erupted in murmurs of shock.
"How? Is there a mole?"
"Not in Team B. It's in the operations center," Jason clarified. "We suspect Rita Alfaro. We kept this from you to avoid any accidental giveaways. According to Jack and Mandy's analysis, tonight's tracking plan has likely been leaked. An ambush is highly probable."
"And you're planning to walk us straight into it?" Ray Perry asked, baffled.
"This is our best shot at catching Lasso and getting Doza's location. We might even end this tonight," Jason explained, pointing skyward. "We've got a 'Triton' overhead, fully armed and ready. Everyone is armed to the teeth. Martinez's QRF is on standby. Any other concerns?"
The "Triton," a naval version of the Global Hawk, was cruising at an altitude of 17,000 meters. It was effectively invisible to Mexico's under-equipped military, eliminating the need for clearance.
"I've got no issues. The boys have been itching for a fight anyway," Ray shrugged.
In the back seat, Martinez remained silent, his expression thoughtful.
Inside the Rosia Nightclub, Jack sipped his cocktail, watching Sophia Núñez at the bar. The aspiring actress sat gracefully, nursing a glass of wine. Jack sent a quick text to Jason: In position.
Then, playing his role, he wrapped an arm around Mandy Ellis and took a seat at the bar. He ordered two overpriced cocktails.
"This is the worst and most expensive drink I've ever had," Jack muttered.
"I figured someone like you would fit right in here," Mandy replied, leaning into Jack's embrace as they posed as an inseparable couple.
Jack shifted slightly, grumbling internally about Mandy's bony frame. He missed Hannah's warmth and Jessie's long legs, and even the presence of the older, glamorous women he used to know.
"Too loud, too crowded, and a hundred bucks for a drink? Definitely not where I'd take someone on a first date," he retorted.
"Listen to you, sounding like an old man. People might think you're pushing sixty," Mandy teased, elbowing him lightly before abruptly changing her tone. "Lasso just showed up."
Jack's eyes followed her gaze. Lasso, sporting a small ponytail, entered with two bodyguards. He approached Sophia and whispered something in her ear. She smiled and stood, following him towards a VIP booth on the other side of the dance floor.
Jack's hand, casually placed on Mandy's hip, quickly tapped out a pre-written text on his phone, sending it to Jason. Then he and Mandy moved to a seating area across the dance floor, maintaining a clear line of sight on their targets.
Above, Rita Alfaro leaned against the second-floor railing, observing the scene below with an inscrutable expression.
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Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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