The communication channel buzzed with updates from the ransom drop-off site. LaCroix, now on location, hadn't spotted anyone. Instead, he had found a cellphone left atop a trash can. At this moment, the two sides were engaged in a phone call, and Jack could hear the conversation through his earpiece.
What happened next was strange. Tyger Kane instantly recognized LaCroix and even knew about his biracial daughter, referring to her with a racial slur.
Jack wasn't surprised that Tyger Kane recognized LaCroix. After all, LaCroix had previously arrested his subordinate, Sam Givens. It wasn't far-fetched to imagine that Kane, while plotting the terrorist attack, might have mentioned the "hateful FBI agent" in conversation with his group and casually looked up "Jess LaCroix" online.
Unlike the CIA, most FBI agents' names and photos can be found in public databases—especially for non-undercover agents like LaCroix, who worked on high-profile criminal investigations.
However, discovering personal details about LaCroix's family would have required more effort—an experienced hacker, significant time, and resources. Why would Kane's group go out of their way to research LaCroix's family? Was it to exact revenge for Sam Givens, or did they have other plans?
This thought flashed through Jack's mind briefly. He hated situations like these. He had agreed to Rossi's earlier plan because his own family was far away overseas, with the closest relative—an uncle—living in Hawaii.
But unexpectedly, just as LaCroix suppressed his anger and prepared to stall for time, Kane abruptly declared the deal canceled. He claimed he wouldn't negotiate with a "white traitor" and didn't even demand to see the money bag.
"Bad news. Move now!" Jack ordered urgently. Before their vehicle had even come to a full stop, he yanked open the door and jumped out. Though he couldn't yet discern what Kane was planning, it was clear the money wasn't his objective. The children were either in immediate danger or about to be moved elsewhere.
The abandoned amusement park sat amidst a wooded area. Originally a small ranch, it spanned less than 12 acres—roughly the size of seven or eight football fields. Removing outdoor attractions like the Ferris wheel and roller coaster, the remaining indoor facilities were relatively small, consisting of two main buildings.
According to earlier intelligence, the larger building housed indoor play areas such as bounce houses, trampolines, and ball pits. The smaller building had once been a restaurant and gift shop. The two structures were about 50-60 meters apart, separated by a bumper car area and a carousel.
The amusement park had long been disconnected from the power grid. An early winter wind blew through the grounds, scattering dead leaves and adding an eerie, haunted atmosphere to the shadowy rides and attractions.
The SWAT team split into three groups. Two groups, led by Jack, surrounded the smaller building, which showed faint signs of light and the hum of a portable generator—likely the group's hideout and therefore the primary target.
Meanwhile, Hannah led a separate team to check several suspicious outdoor locations identified by drone surveillance before heading toward the larger building.
"We've found the missing school bus," Hannah's voice came through the earpiece. "It's parked near the roller coaster. The bus is empty and covered with a tarp."
Jack felt a slight sense of relief. They were in the right place. Moments later, confirmation came from the NYPD and county police stationed around the amusement park's perimeter. Finally, Hannah's team reported again: they had reached the entrance of the larger building and were ready to breach.
"Go," Jack whispered. He pulled down his quad-tube night vision goggles and signaled with his hand. A SWAT officer applied lubricant to the door hinges, and another carefully eased the door open without making a sound.
"Hug the walls, watch your step. Move!" whispered the team leader. A dozen SWAT officers followed Jack inside, their movements silent and precise.
They passed through the cluttered gift shop area and entered the restaurant. The space opened up into what had once been a typical fast-food layout, with an oval-shaped counter in the center and small tables and benches arranged around it.
Now, the tables and benches had been stacked into two large piles. The central counter had been split apart to create a larger space, draped with clear plastic sheeting. On one side were a few makeshift sofa beds, and on the other, a TV blaring the news about the day's kidnapping incident.
Five men lounged on the sofas, some sitting, others reclining. Automatic weapons lay within arm's reach. They were engrossed in the news broadcast, occasionally bursting into laughter, mocking the authorities' incompetence. One man loudly praised Tyger Kane's genius plan, shamelessly flattering their leader.
The dim lighting, powered by the portable generator, left most of the room in shadows. The men's backs were to the entrance, and none of them seemed to notice the dozen or so breaths now filling the room.
"Spread out," Jack whispered, lifting his night vision goggles. At his command, the SWAT officers fanned out, forming a loose semi-circle around the men. Despite their careful movements, a faint noise escaped—a shuffle of boots, a slight creak.
But the extremists' conversation was too heated, drowning out any subtle sounds. Even Tyger Kane, seated among them, failed to notice the looming danger. These men's lack of military discipline was glaring; even the amateur militia groups Jack had dealt with in the past were more alert.
"FBI!"
"FBI! Get down on the ground!"
Blinding tactical lights from the SWAT officers' rifles illuminated the room, making it impossible for the men to see. With no cover nearby, Jack stepped forward and yanked down the plastic sheeting.
"Tyger Kane, drop your weapon!"
"Bang! Bang!" Jack fired twice, immediately dropping one man who had reached for a submachine gun on the table. He then turned his sights on Kane, who had spun around to face him in a panic.
"Don't move! Hands up!" Jack barked, his eyes locked on Kane's right hand, which was partially hidden. "Don't do something stupid, you idiot."
"F*** you!" Kane spat, glancing at his trembling comrades. His face twisted in rage, his bulging eyes widening as he suddenly raised his MP5.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Gunfire erupted. Jack shot Kane twice in the shoulders, but two SWAT officers also opened fire, riddling Kane with bullets, turning him into a bloody mess.
Jack shouted, "Cease fire! Cease fire!" But it was too late. If they hadn't been using rifles, the SWAT officers might not have stopped until their magazines were empty. Their own safety came first, after all.
Rushing forward, Jack crouched beside Kane, who was writhing on the floor, blood pouring from his wounds. "Where are the kidnapped children?" Jack demanded.
Kane coughed violently, blood spraying from his mouth. His chest heaved as he gasped, his voice barely audible. "Too late… you can't… stop anything…"
"Too late for what? Where are the children?" Jack shouted, but Kane had already stopped breathing.
"Dammit!" Jack cursed, panic rising in his chest. There were 26 innocent children somewhere, and this lunatic had taken their whereabouts to the grave.
"Jack! Jack! We've found the children! They're safe!" Hannah's voice suddenly came through his earpiece, filled with relief. Faintly, he could hear the sounds of children crying in the background.
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Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
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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