"What a lousy legendary agent! He's just a bootlicker who relies on women to get promoted and make money."
Craig Bogle grumbled as he put away the eavesdropping device, carefully lifted his wig, and scratched his itchy scalp.
"I couldn't agree with you more, Craig. Look at that supercar he drives. We've worked so hard for the FBI for 20 years, and what have we got in the end?
Besides the title of senior agent, the bank balance isn't even enough to buy four tires. Retiring early from the bureau is the best decision I've ever made."
Leonard Pitt, who was driving, had a slightly higher hairline and some graying at the temples, but he looked much better than Craig Bogle, who had nothing but a wig to hide his gray hair.
"I don't understand what that bitch Dana Moger saw in this pretty boy. Just because she complained a little, she sent us all back to Washington to work in an office. Is that rumor true?"
"What rumor?" Leonard Pitt asked with interest.
Craig Bogle, adjusting his wig in front of a small mirror, gave a sly grin. "It's said that old woman kicked David Rossi and then slept with his protégé."
The two sleazy old men chuckled, and the car was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
Meanwhile, in the passenger seat of an Audi R8 less than 20 meters ahead of the N-hand Lavida they were in, Taylor stared nervously in the rearview mirror.
"Is someone really following us?"
"Relax, Taylor. We're being followed by professionals. If you're still acting this nervous when we get to the restaurant, someone's going to notice something's wrong."
Jack frowned, feeling the tracking techniques displayed by the person behind him seemed familiar.
"So what should I do?" Taylor's state at the moment was more excitement than nervousness. The dual thrill of impending danger and the sense of security protected by someone she trusted caused her legs to rub against each other unconsciously.
"Just like usual, isn't this the candlelight dinner you've been waiting for?" Jack parked the car, rolled down the window, and declined the valet's offer to open the door.
After slipping him two $10 tips, the valet trotted him into the nearest parking space.
While Jack hadn't installed any special equipment in his Audi R8, the hidden warning lights and the spare rifle behind the seat made it clear he wouldn't be giving the keys to a stranger.
For Taylor, who had been staying in a small building on the base for safety reasons and thus enjoyed a daily diet of international cuisine, the food prepared by the chef of Soho's finest French restaurant was just so-so.
Although the French dinner, which took at least two hours to prepare, was primarily intended to slow down the process, the soothing music, the flickering candlelight on the table, and a bottle of expensive champagne quickly put Taylor at ease.
"I admit that I'm very satisfied with this dinner, but don't think about breaking our agreement. The condition you promised before was to cook me a delicious meal yourself."
Taylor took Jack's arm and walked out of the restaurant, leaning most of his weight on the man.
"Which meal have you eaten these past two days that wasn't cooked by me?" Jack was speechless. He raised his hand to check the time. It was almost ten o'clock, just in time considering the travel time.
His eyes seemed to inadvertently glance at a gray Lavida across the street, and Jack's brows frowned slightly again.
Most people might not be able to see the appearance of the person sitting in the car clearly under the dim streetlights, but for him, this was not a problem at all.
Jack didn't hold it against Aubrey for helping him spread the false information that ultimately became a scandal because he was right about one thing.
Office gossip truly spreads faster than any other news. Even with
Jack's photographic memory, he couldn't name every FBI agent who had ever entered or exited the Federal Building, but even just a passing encounter would leave a lasting impression. The
man following him turned out to be an FBI insider. Although he hadn't seen either of them in a while, Jack was certain he wasn't mistaken.
"What's wrong?" Taylor asked curiously, sensing the man's distraction.
"Nothing, I just didn't expect to get such a surprise." Jack bent down to open the passenger door, even offering a hand to shield her head.
The abandoned wine cellar where Lai Ya had imprisoned his father was located near a pier in Queens. It wasn't a cellar, but more of a semi-basement.
This place originally belonged to a trading company with mafia connections. As Aubrey had mentioned, it was surrounded by open ground, with only a single brick bungalow standing there.
It was pitch black, and the NYPD tape swayed slightly in the night breeze. Jack and Tyler got out of their car and walked around the property. Then, back at the gate, they bent over and fiddled with something.
The clatter of the metal shutter door rippled through the still night. The couple ducked through the shutter door and disappeared. The Lavida, which had been driving without its lights on for the rest of the trip, slowly approached and stopped beside the Audi R8.
Two GMC vans followed, one on each side, circling the property. Several gunmen emerged from the vans, armed with assault rifles, and took cover behind the vans, ready to fight.
A moment later, at a wave from a suited man who had exited the van earlier, the headlights of the three vehicles blazed, illuminating the small wine cellar with dazzling beams of light.
"Come out! You're surrounded!" Former FBI agent Craig Bogle shouted triumphantly, covering his wind-rippled wig.
There was a commotion inside the house, followed by Jack's voice. "Don't get me wrong, I'm from the FBI."
"No, Agent Jack Tavola." Craig Bogle fired two rounds directly at the half-open roller shutter door.
His partner, Leonard Pitt, propped an M203 grenade launcher against the car door, his face barely concealing his excitement.
"This is just a small warning. Don't try to resist. We've got smoke and stun grenades ready for you. I heard you're quite skilled at using them on those criminals.
You didn't expect it, but now it's your turn to experience it yourself. If you don't want the beautiful woman next to you to get hurt, just drop your weapons and come out and surrender."
The two former FBI agents chimed in, mocking someone trapped in a jar.
A moment's silence followed, and Jack's voice echoed again. "Who are you? I don't know you. What do you want?"
(End of Chapter)