"Of course." Jack smiled even more, "In fact, the plan of pretending to be a surgeon is not bad, the problem is that you are a little uneasy and forgot that you just talked to him and introduced yourself."
He made a shooting gesture at Jubal's head, "The moment you walk in and start talking, he may shoot you directly in the head.
So the person pretending to be a surgeon should be me, and what you have to do is communicate a complete plan with the commander of SWAT, so that the accident like that won't happen again."
Jubal subconsciously frowned and thought for a moment, still a little worried, "Do you have any idea? "Can you convince him?"
Jack shook his head matter-of-factly, but replied confidently, "Of course not, but I can use physical persuasion if necessary."
Jubal choked, speechless. "Alright, I'll negotiate with Octavio for the release of the injured Lucas Caldwell. You'll need to find someone to do the makeup. Surgeons aren't as young as you."
As expected, upon hearing that the FBI had found a surgeon willing to perform the operation, Octavio readily agreed to the hostage exchange. After all, his son's abdomen had been opened, and the longer they delayed, the worse it would be.
With the help of several professionals, Jack quickly completed the makeup. A SWAT commander stood before him, holding a medical kit. "Here's what you need."
Jack took the kit, shook it, and gently pressed the bottom of the box. A Glock 19 appeared in his palm.
The Glock 19 is a compact version of the Glock 17, a common military and police pistol. Jack and SEAL Team B had also used it during the operation in Mexico. It is compact, reliable, and easy to conceal.
Jack checked his weapon and returned it to its secure compartment. He tried a few more maneuvers, confirming it wouldn't be accidentally opened, and only then was he completely reassured.
The SWAT commander pointed at a tablet. "Our sniper has found the only suitable angle: the southwest window. If you can lure him there,"
Jack interrupted with a shake of his head. "Just have your team prepare for the assault outside. We have a better plan."
It wasn't that he distrusted the SWAT sniper, but rather that he trusted himself more. He and Jubal had already discussed the signal and the timing; the initiative lay with him.
Both Jubal and Jack believed Octavio's crime didn't deserve the death penalty, though he might have been prepared to sacrifice his own life to save his son's.
After changing into his green scrubs and a coat, Jack paced back and forth with his medical kit. His demeanor suddenly changed, his shoulders slumped slightly, his posture slightly stooped.
A slightly graying beard paired with a wrinkled face, the only thing that remained unchanged were those bright eyes, making him look like an experienced yet still energetic old surgeon.
Hannah and Aubrey were also summoned, and Jubal was assigning them a task. "Aubrey, I need you to contact Hope General Hospital immediately. It's the closest hospital, only five kilometers away.
I need a surgeon on standby there, ready to perform a kidney transplant."
Aubrey nodded to show that he understood. "I'll do my best."
Jubal continued to instruct worriedly, "No, it must be done. A surgeon must be on standby. The child is only 12 years old. He shouldn't die. Whether Jack can convince his father or not, we must..."
"I understand what you mean. I will definitely get it done, sir," Aubrey promised.
Jubal then turned to Hannah. "You've worked with Jack many times, and you know him better than I do, so I won't waste any more words. You'll cooperate with the SWAT team at the entrance and be ready to storm at any moment."
Hannah's expression was more relaxed than anyone else present. As Jubal had said, she knew her man better than anyone else.
Finally, Jubal turned to Jack and opened a website on his tablet, which showed a close-up photo of Jack in makeup. "We forged your resume online. It says you're a transplant surgeon at Hope General Hospital, using the pseudonym you provided."
"Shawn Murphy, 52, Columbia University graduate?" Jack nodded, indicating he'd memorized it. Although the name and age didn't seem to fit, he clearly didn't have autism. (Note: The male lead in the American TV series "The Good Doctor")
A team of six SWAT members, carrying two bulletproof shields and a makeshift stretcher, arrived at the warehouse entrance and carried away Lucas Caldwell, who had been dragged to the door by Octavio and struggled to crawl a few steps outside.
After the SWAT team left, Jack stepped forward and slowly opened the warehouse's side door. He raised his hands and spoke in a deep, slightly hoarse voice, as if he were a man in his 50s. "Hello, I'm Dr. Murphy, here to assist your son."
"Come in, close the door, go forward, stop! Put your bag down, back off, back off!" Octavio, looking nervous, stood a good distance away, about five or six meters from Jack. He had an AR-15 slung across his chest and an M1911 pistol in his hand.
He squatted down, opened the medical kit on the ground, and briefly inspected it, confirming it contained only some medical supplies. He then moved behind Jack, pressing his pistol against his back to check for any weapons.
For safety's sake, Jack hadn't even worn concealed headphones. Octavio was unaware of the fiber-optic cameras, and their every move was under FBI surveillance.
Jack glanced around silently. Dr. Nicole Wright was currently tending to the little boy on the operating table. Though her mask obscured her expression, he could still sense the panic and fear in the way she occasionally glanced up at him.
After confirming everything was safe, Octavio, who had been on edge, finally relaxed slightly, though his M1919 rifle was still pointed at Jack.
"I'm so sorry, Dr. Murphy, thank you so much for coming." He stepped back, stood at the operating room door, and glanced worriedly into the room.
"Can I?" Jack rolled up his sleeves and gestured to the sink beside him.
"Of course." Although Octavio was still alert and kept the gun in his hand pointing at him, his attitude was obviously much slower. At least he believed that the person standing in front of him was a professional surgeon.
Jack asked while washing his hands, "Is the donor a perfect match?"
"Yes, yes, they have confirmed it before, there is no problem." Octavio glanced at the operating room again, his expression a little anxious.
Jack picked up the medical bag again and put it on his shoulder, preparing to enter the operating room, but then stopped and said sincerely, "But I still want to advise you, from a professional point of view, it is not a wise decision for you to do this.
This kind of operation is very complicated and requires the support of a complete medical team to prevent accidents."
"No! I don't need you to tell me this." Octavio became emotional again. "For the past few months, I've been trying to get help through formal channels.
But the doctors in these hospitals don't care at all. We don't have medical insurance, we are not Americans, and the hospital doesn't care about us and just stands by and watches."
He became more and more excited as he spoke, his already bloodshot eyes turned red, and his voice choked with sobs. "For ten whole months, I watched my son grow weaker and weaker until he couldn't even say Dad. What could I do? What if it were you? Watch him die like this?"
Jack couldn't help but be speechless, thinking of Helton who risked everything for his daughter, and even earlier, the original owner of his small building in Los Angeles, Lawson who was almost in trouble, and his son Jacob who depended on him for life.
"Of course not. I understand you. I really do."
"So I tried everything to raise enough money for the surgery. I sold my car, worked three jobs, twenty-hour days, and borrowed money from friends and family.
But the day before the surgery, that jerk doctor canceled it, saying his colleague had been in a car accident and he didn't want to find another anesthesiologist because it was too risky.
That son of a bitch didn't care about my son's life at all, only about himself. So I had no choice."
Octavio wiped away his tears with his sleeve, his right hand trembling as he gripped the gun.
Jack knew there was no way to convince him anymore, and he had already made up his mind. "Okay, stop talking. I understand you. I really do. If it were me, I would do the same."
He touched his left earlobe, then stepped forward and held out his right hand. "I promise you, I will do everything in my power to save your son."
"You promise?" Octavio was overjoyed. He quickly switched the pistol to his left hand and reached out his right hand to shake Jack's.
"Of course!" Jack's voice returned to normal, and he met his horrified gaze with a smile.
The next moment, Octavio felt dizzy, and he didn't know what was happening when he was thrown to the ground with a clean shoulder throw, and the pistol flew out of his hand.
He subconsciously struggled to touch the AR-15 hanging on his chest, but found that it was empty. Then he felt a sharp pain in his shoulders, and his arms were dislocated and unable to move.
Octavio let out a desperate howl, still trying to struggle desperately. At the same time, the entrances on both sides of the warehouse were knocked open, and Hannah and Aubrey rushed in with two SWAT teams respectively.
"Move! Move! Move!"
"Check around!"
"Quick! Quick! Quick!"
"Safe! Stretcher! Push the stretcher in quickly!"
Jack took the handcuffs handed to Octavio by a SWAT and handcuffed him, then reset his arm joints. "Don't resist. I said I would help your son. As for you, you might as well think about how to win the jury's sympathy in court."
"The surgeons at Hope General Hospital are on standby!" Jubal yelled and rushed to the operating room. Hannah and Aubrey were already helping Dr. Nicole Wright transfer the boy on the operating table to the stretcher.
The anesthesiologist was really kind-hearted. Although he had been scared before, he still stayed by the stretcher. "We have to hurry. The child must undergo surgery immediately. I have to stay with him."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hannah asked worriedly.
"No problem. I have to calculate the anesthesia time myself. It's taking too long." Dr. Nicole Wright's performance made Jack sigh silently. Although they are all doctors, the differences between them are really huge.
(End of this chapter)