Location: New Jersey
Jack walked through the dimly lit streets, moving with a quiet determination, careful to blend into the shadows. He approached the familiar building and paused, gazing up at its facade, memories flooding back. It was the place where Maria had lived, her laughter echoing in his mind like a haunting melody, contrasting sharply with the tears she shed during their darkest moments.
As he stood there, he felt a familiar pang of longing and regret. His thoughts drifted to the fight he had witnessed with the White Wolf, a violent reminder of the world he was entrenched in. The chaos of that moment replayed in his mind, a clash of fists and fury, a stark juxtaposition to the serene memories of Maria. He clenched his fists, the weight of his choices pressing heavily on his chest.
He took a deep breath and stepped inside. The building was neat, with children running and playing around, their laughter reminding him of the joyous times he shared with Maria. Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small note, stained with his blood. It read: Maria C.S. #1016.
He walked slowly down the hallway, memories pressing down on him with every step. When he finally reached the door, he knocked softly, the sound breaking through the quiet. After a few moments, an old woman appeared at the door. Jack removed his cap, feeling a rush of emotions rise within him. The woman gasped, her eyes filling with tears as she cried, "My boy, my dear boy."
Without a word, Jack embraced his aunt, holding her tightly as the weight of everything hit him. For a moment, he let himself feel the comfort of home, of someone who still remembered the boy he used to be.
"Is she inside?" Jack asked quietly, his voice almost breaking.
"Yes, she's waiting for you," his aunt replied, her voice trembling with emotion.
Jack stepped inside, his heart thudding as he walked through the familiar house. Every step felt heavier, knowing what lay ahead. And then he saw her—Maria, sitting by the window, a book in her hand, completely unaware of the moment that was about to unfold. He gently knocked on the open door, and her eyes snapped up, wide with surprise. She stood, rushing toward him in an instant, throwing her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.
"Jack..." she whispered through her tears.
They held onto each other as if afraid the other would disappear again. After all these years apart, the space between them seemed to vanish, even if it was only temporary.
"Hey," Jack said softly, "what's this? My little girl, crying? I thought you were tougher than that." His voice shook, betraying the tears that had also gathered in his eyes.
He gently wiped the tears from her face, his hands trembling slightly. They sat down on the bed, the weight of their reunion settling around them like a fragile peace.
"Where were you, Jack? All these years..." Maria's voice was barely above a whisper, her words laced with hurt. "I waited, I wrote to you... I searched for you, but nothing. No answer, no word. I thought I'd lost you forever."
Jack let out a long sigh, his heart heavy. "I know... I know, Maria. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for all of it." He paused, searching for the right words. "Work... it does things to people. It changes you. I couldn't come back. I just couldn't."
"But, you always come back."
"And here I am," Jack replied, forcing a small smile.
Maria relaxed, a hint of relief washing over her. But Jack's heart was heavy, and the words he needed to say were stuck in his throat.
"I'm just happy you're here. I missed you," she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable.
Jack looked away, swallowing hard. "I won't be here for long, Maria. I…I can't stay."
Maria's face froze, and fear replaced the relief she felt just moments ago. "What do you mean?"
"I've been running my whole life, trying to stop something bigger than us. I can't stay here, not with everything that's happening. The longer I stay, the more danger I bring to you both," he said, his voice low and cracking under the weight of his guilt.
Their aunt quietly entered the room but stayed in the background, sensing the tension.
Maria's voice trembled as she asked, "You'll come back…won't you?"
Jack's gaze dropped to the floor. The silence between them felt like a goodbye. He couldn't bring himself to say the words.
"You're not coming back, are you?" Maria's voice broke, the realization hitting her hard.
"All my life," she continued, her voice now shaking, "I just wanted you to be with me. I wanted us to be together, Jack. You've carried the weight of the world on your shoulders, but that's not your burden to bear. You deserve a life—a real life."
She reached for his hand, her eyes pleading. "I don't want you to go."
Jack could feel his chest tightening, the tears he had tried to suppress welling up. "Maria, I—" he began, but the words failed him.
She clung to him, her voice barely a whisper. "Please, Jack. Don't leave me. I can't lose you again."
He hugged her, tighter than ever before, letting the tears finally fall. In that embrace, Jack let out everything—the fear, the pain, the sorrow of knowing this might be the last time he would see her. He kissed her gently, and they both wept, holding on to each other for what felt like the last time.
As Jack stood to leave, Maria's tears continued to fall. She couldn't let go. "Please, Jack…stay," she sobbed.
He walked over to his aunt, embracing her tightly. "Take care of her," he whispered before turning to leave.
The moment he stepped outside, he heard Maria's voice, desperate and broken, calling from the window. "Jack! Don't leave me! Please, come back!"
Jack wiped the tears from his eyes, but they wouldn't stop. He walked away, the weight of the final goodbye pressing down on his heart, knowing this was the end for them.
Location: Unknown
"Marcus Bradley, a former MI6 agent, is tied to every photo, every shred of evidence in the drive Suzanne gave us," Tyler said, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen. "The guy was pronounced dead two years ago, but his account is still making transactions."
Jack placed the laptop on the table, his eyes narrowing as he scrolled through the data. "We need to dig deeper on this guy. Wasn't Operation Fargo classified?"
"Yeah," Tyler replied, glancing at the screen. "Only the operatives involved knew the full details. Andrews' disappearance was reported two weeks after he went missing. Why?"
Jack's gaze sharpened. "Bradley was pronounced dead on the 11th of March during an operation in Gaza. And Fargo was carried out on April 12th, 2018. Almost a month after his supposed death."
Tyler blinked, confused. "What are you getting at?"
Jack leaned forward, scrolling through Bradley's transaction history. "His account has a series of suspicious movements—payments made or received just days before certain operations. If he's dead, who's pulling the strings on these funds? Unless..." Jack paused, the pieces clicking into place. "...unless Bradley's involved in something bigger."
"Or unless he's still alive," Tyler interjected, the realization dawning on him, his voice low.
"Exactly." Jack's voice tightened. "Even though he was pronounced dead, his body was never recovered. And two months after Fargo, a $2.5 million transfer was made to an account we've flagged. It gets worse—a shell company, tied to a 'Mr. Louis' was shut down recently. That same pattern appears in another shell company owned by a 'Mr. Daniel.' There was a $60 million transfer on the 13th of February... spread across three untraceable accounts. A pattern of 3 million being sent across almost 1,324 bank accounts is highlighted here."
Tyler tensed. "On the 20th of February, an off-the-books operation in Hungary took place—one that only Bradley, his team, and I knew about."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You were involved?"
"Yeah," Tyler admitted, rubbing his temples. "It was an extraction. Foreign agents were everywhere. It was a covert op—no records, no loose ends."
Jack's expression darkened. "If Bradley's still alive, he's orchestrating something from the shadows, but I can't piece it all together... yet."
Jack's eyes flicked back to the screen, scanning the endless data trails. "These shell companies have been moving nearly $3 billion over the years, siphoning funds into a maze of fake accounts. But here's the catch—Bradley's main account was shut down just seven days ago."
Tyler frowned. "You think he's alive?"
Jack leaned back, eyes narrowing. "Something tells me he is. And all of these transactions have IP addresses that match those in Switzerland."
"Switzerland?" Tyler asked, surprised.
Jack tapped the screen, highlighting a particular transfer. "One of Bradley's offshore accounts is linked to a shell company in Switzerland. The transactions are subtle, but they match older patterns. This company is his key front. Whatever Bradley's next move is, it starts there."
"But we cannot be sure he must be in Switzerland?? If this goddamn guy has a VPN to cover his goddamn tracks, we could go to a totally different country."
"Suzzane
"I'll call Matthew—he owes me a favor. He can get us a jet." Said Tyler.
Jack looked at Tyler suspiciously. "Can we trust him?"
"We worked together for years," Tyler said, dialing his phone. "He's solid."
Location: Chicago
"Tyler, my old friend, what mess have you gotten yourself into now?" Matthew's voice came through the line, half amused.
Tyler smiled grimly. "How's retirement treating you?"
"It's boring as hell," Matthew replied. "So, what can I do for you?"
"I need a jet to Hong Kong. Discreet."
Matthew chuckled. "What's this about?"
"Marcus Bradley. It's a sensitive matter. Can't give you the full details."
"Say no more. I'll arrange the jet and a car at the airport."
"Thanks, man," Tyler said, feeling relieved.
As the call ended, a wicked smile crept onto Matthew's face. He hesitated, then dialed another number.
The line clicked, and a cold voice answered, "Speak."
"Tyler's headed to Hong Kong in a few hours. Likely with Jack. I'll send you the exact details shortly."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Matthew staring at his phone, an eerie silence in the room.
Location: CIA HQ, Langley, Virginia
An agent hurried through the labyrinthine halls of the CIA headquarters, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He opened the door to an office where Cyrus sat calmly, his back to the agent, gazing out of the window.
"You called for me, sir?" the agent said, standing stiffly.
Without turning around, Cyrus spoke in his usual calm tone. "Inform all our field agents. Tyler and Jack will be in Hong Kong within hours. Pass the word to the Hong Kong police as well. I want eyes on them the moment they land."
The agent nodded, scribbling a note. "Do we engage?"
"Not yet," Cyrus said, his voice smooth but commanding. "No one makes a move without my order."
"Yes, sir," the agent replied, before hurrying out of the room.
Cyrus leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. "Hong Kong…" he murmured to himself. "It always comes back to Hong Kong."