Cynthia Wilkes, arriving quickly, interrupted the two men about to fight. Her sharp gaze swept over the men before landing on the bruised and battered Cassel. A subtle flicker of relief crossed her eyes.
Jack had lost the pretentious air he'd used to taunt Cooper minutes before, replaced instead by a look of fury. "Who gives the CIA the right to take my friend away?"
He made a move to grab him, but Cooper forcibly stopped him. The police officers at the hotel entrance cast curious glances their way.
Seeing the two men about to fight, Cynthia snorted, adopting the air of a superior CIA official. "Agent Tavolar, what are you planning on doing?"
"Cassel is my friend and a well-known public figure. What right do you, the CIA, have to take him away?" Even before Cynthia, the head of a CIA department, Jack remained unyielding, his voice practically a roar.
Cynthia, however, treated him like air, saying to Cooper, "I'll take him away first. You stay here and handle the aftermath. He called you before, and he might contact you again. I need to know what that old man is up to."
She truly acted like a leader whose word was his. With a wave of her hand, she signaled the two CIA agents who had come with Cooper to escort Castle to her car.
Castle's acting was no worse than Jack's. He looked over with almost despair in his eyes, but was shoved so hard that he stumbled.
"Stop!" Jack's tone was cold, his words slurring through his teeth, and as he spoke, a hand already rested on his pistol.
Raising her hand slightly to signal her subordinates against any overreaction, Cynthia tilted her head back and glared at Jack through her nose. "Agent Tavolar, if you have any questions, please speak to me through your 'superior.' This matter is beyond your purview."
With that, she ignored Jack's grim expression and told her agents to leave with Castle.
As Cynthia's GMC Yukon vanished from view, Jack wondered if spitting on the ground would betray his guilt. Cooper, standing beside him, whispered,
"That's enough. She has no suspicions."
"Are you sure?" Jack remained stern. As if they were still arguing, they left the hotel entrance, where CPD officers were frequently seen.
"Can Castle be guaranteed to be left here?" This was Jack's real concern.
Cooper's mouth curled into a smile, a hint of inexplicable bitterness on his face. "It'll be fine. I usually do those jobs. Cynthia never gets her hands dirty."
Jack's eyes flickered with sympathy.
Cooper noticed his strange gaze and frowned uncomfortably. "Don't look at me like that," he said coldly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't mind fighting you here to make this scene more realistic."
"There shouldn't be any spectators here, so you better save your energy." That being said, Jack didn't dare to waste any time on Cooper in such public.
If he exchanged a few words with a tense expression, others would think he was unwilling to see his friend taken away and was threatening Cooper.
The two of them parted ways, and Jack went straight back to the banquet hall, where CPD officers in blue uniforms and detectives in suits were already busy.
He circled the scene and quickly found a detective who, despite his burly build, seemed inexplicably hunched, as if carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders.
Jack stepped forward and offered a Cohiba cigar. "Detective Boyett, long time no see."
"Long time no see, Jack," the old detective took the cigar, nodded, and motioned for Jack to follow him.
The two of them walked through several corridors, exited the hotel through an unassuming door, and emerged into a narrow back alley.
He lit his cigar and took a puff, letting the smoke linger in his mouth for a long time before slowly exhaling. Hank Boyett's sinister eyes flickered inexplicably under the dim streetlight.
"Why are you, the FBI, clashing with the CIA?"
As expected, nothing could be hidden from this local tyrant. Although the minor conflict at the hotel entrance had been staged for show, it hadn't even taken more than twenty minutes.
But for it to reach his ears so quickly, and even for him to reveal the identities of several CIA agents in a single sentence, it only proved that this veteran detective had extraordinary connections in Chicago.
"I think it's better for you not to know," Jack advised sincerely.
Hank Boyett glared at him. "I don't want to know, but this case involves a federal senator, and there are both the FBI and the CIA on the scene. I don't want to be dragged into your federal agencies' mess."
"It'll be over tomorrow morning. Your intelligence team and the CPD won't be involved, I promise," Jack vowed.
Before he could finish his words, Hank Boyett's phone beeped twice. He frowned, cigar between his lips, and froze in his tracks. Then he looked at Jack in disbelief, his hand instinctively resting on the pistol at his waist.
"You, uh... someone kidnapped Senator Bracken? Officers just found two unconscious security guards on the side of the road."
Jack remained calm, even shrugging, and repeated his assurance. "Trust me, this will be resolved tomorrow morning."
"I don't want anything to do with this kind of shit." The old detective angrily pulled an evidence bag from his pocket. Inside was a blood-stained, severely deformed bullet.
"The bloodstains in the kitchen have been cleaned up. Consider it my repayment for the favor you did for that BAU case. Don't bother me again."
This was the reason why Jack had called Hank Boyett earlier. The situation was urgent at the time. After treating Victoria's wounds, he had no time to clean up the scene and could only seek off-site support.
"No, I personally owe you a big favor." Jack's eyes were sincere at this moment.
The old detective looked at Jack seriously for a long time with an expression that said, "I don't know whether I should believe you." Finally, he sighed and waved his hand like a fly away. "I'm already annoyed enough. Whether it's you or the FBI, you'd better stay away from Chicago."
Jack didn't get angry, but continued to smile. "Maybe we don't know each other well enough, but our cooperation back then was actually quite pleasant, wasn't it? You helped me this time, so please give me a chance to repay you."
Hank Boyett hesitated for a moment, and finally shook Jack's outstretched right hand.
(End of this chapter)