While the analysts worked on tracing the gray BMW using traffic surveillance footage, Jack took it upon himself to visit Jubal in the small office he'd been holed up in.
"Look, I know this might be a bit intrusive," Jack began, leaning casually against the doorframe. "But since we're going to be official partners soon, I figured I should check in. Is everything okay? Can you tell me what's going on?"
Jubal wasn't the type to slack off or let personal issues affect his work. Lately, though, he'd seemed distracted. Jack figured it had to be one of the three classic midlife crises: aging parents, troubled kids, or fear of unemployment. A quick process of elimination brought him to the most likely conclusion.
Jubal rarely spoke about his parents, which likely meant they were either deceased or estranged. His career was on the rise—he was about to become the official head of the Most Wanted unit. That left only one explanation: his two daughters, who lived with his ex-wife, were the source of his distress.
"It's personal, uh..." Jubal started, suddenly standing up in a fluster and quickly closing the laptop in front of him.
Jack said nothing, simply standing there and staring at him. After nearly a year of working together, they'd built a solid rapport both professionally and personally. Jack considered them friends, so there was no reason to hide things from each other.
Jubal, clearly uncomfortable under Jack's unrelenting gaze, began fidgeting with his ear and making wild hand gestures, a habit he shared with Rossi. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he let out a heavy sigh. "It's my older daughter. She hasn't been feeling well lately. She's been throwing up almost every morning. The pediatrician ran some blood tests, and the results... aren't promising."
"What do you mean, 'not promising'? What's the diagnosis?" Jack asked, suddenly feeling like a crisis manager again. First Germany, now this. Was he turning into everyone's go-to problem solver?
"The doctor didn't specify—just suggested we see a specialist," Jubal replied, trying to force a smile but failing miserably.
Jack stepped forward and reopened the laptop Jubal had closed so hastily. The search history showed two alarming results: "Aplastic anemia in children" and "Childhood leukemia."
Jack let out a sigh. WebMD (or Google) was the absolute worst doctor. They didn't even know what they were dealing with yet, and Jubal was already scaring himself to death. Looking at the distraught man in front of him, Jack wasn't sure how to comfort him.
"When's the specialist appointment?" Jack asked, switching to a practical approach. "If the diagnosis involves a bone marrow biopsy, your daughter's going to need you there."
Jubal wiped his face and sat up straighter, trying to regain his composure. "It's tomorrow morning. Her mom's taking her in first, but if I..."
"There's no 'if,'" Jack interrupted firmly. "If you need to leave, go now. Don't worry about things here—we'll cover for you."
Jubal shook his head. "They need me here too."
Jack snorted. "Don't overestimate your importance. We'll manage just fine without you. Besides, this case doesn't seem too complicated—the kidnapper's impulsive behavior makes it unlikely they've thought this through. We might even wrap this up by tonight. I'll go with you to check on your daughter afterward."
"Let's hope so." Jubal sighed, visibly more relaxed now. He even managed a weak joke. "I know you've been eyeing my job, but I'm not letting you have it."
"Please, just take the job already. The ladies in logistics are about to eat me alive," Jack quipped, shaking his head.
With that, the two men left the small office and returned to the operations center. Jubal straightened his posture and addressed the team. "Alright, folks, can someone tell me if the traffic camera analysis is done yet?"
Before he'd even finished speaking, a technician stood up. "I might have something."
An image was projected onto the large screen. "One of the high-definition cameras caught the unmarked gray BMW. I enhanced the clearest frame I could find."
The image had been converted to black and white for better resolution. The driver, wearing a ski mask, could be seen gripping the steering wheel with gloved hands.
"Zoom in on the dashboard. What's that? Looks like an ETC card," Jim Aubrey said, sharp-eyed.
The photo was further magnified, and sure enough, a QR code on the ETC card was clearly visible. Within ten minutes, the ever-efficient Alice Taylor had traced the card's owner.
"This card belongs to a 45-year-old white male named Lucas Caldwell," Alice announced, her tone tinged with surprise.
Immediately, a string of information about Caldwell popped up on the database. "He has no criminal record and runs a private internal medicine clinic in Manhattan. Interestingly, the gray BMW is registered under his name—and it hasn't been reported stolen."
Jack chuckled. "So, he's in the same profession as our kidnapped victim. That makes him look pretty suspicious. Maybe we'll wrap this case up today after all."
Of course, Jack knew things were unlikely to be that simple. But at least they had a solid lead to pursue.
Donning bulletproof vests, Jack, Hannah, and Jim Aubrey swapped out their car for a Suburban and headed to Lucas Caldwell's residence in Long Island.
As they arrived, Jim, who'd been looking out the window, let out a low whistle. "This neighborhood doesn't come cheap."
"Unless they're being exploited as interns, I've yet to meet a doctor who's strapped for cash," Jack replied. He hadn't even finished his sentence when Hannah stepped out of the car, gun already drawn.
"The apartment door is open. Something's not right," she said, her voice tense.
"Careful—there's a surveillance camera under the porch," Jim quickly pointed out.
Jack lengthened his stride to catch up with Hannah, positioning himself near the door. It seemed her last case had left her frustrated—she used to stay behind him for cover, but now she was rushing ahead.
"Ready?" Jack glanced at Hannah, who nodded. He then turned to Jim, who also signaled readiness. Jack shouted, "FBI!" and pushed the door open.
There was no response from inside. Jack activated his heightened senses and moved cautiously along the walls. Hannah and Jim followed close behind as the three of them systematically cleared the ground and second floors. The house was completely empty.
"All clear!"
"House secure!"
"Jack! Found something upstairs!" Hannah called out from the second floor.
Jack and Jim quickly joined her in the bedroom, where she stood by a desk, examining its contents. "There's a wallet and a personal tablet here. The wallet contains Lucas Caldwell's driver's license, credit cards, and cash."
"His phone's here too," Jim added, picking up a device from the bedside table.
Hannah frowned as she surveyed the messy bed and the open wardrobe. "Looks like he was forcibly dragged out of bed. Maybe the surveillance camera under the porch caught something."
"Call in ERT and CART," Jack instructed. "This guy might've been kidnapped too." He sighed heavily. As expected, the case was getting more complicated.
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Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1422)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1452)
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Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 703)
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