A team of ESU officers was stationed outside a large warehouse in Zone 3. Frustration mounted as their repeated requests for permission to enter were denied. The team's leader, in particular, was growing impatient.
Compounding the problem, the team leader's communication earpiece malfunctioned. While he heard Jack's initial orders to retreat, the transmission became choppy afterward. Crucially, he missed the report about the IEDs and the infrared tripwire. Assuming the FBI SWAT team was withdrawing because of explosives in their area to allow the bomb squad to move in, he hesitated briefly before ordering his team to breach.
Unfortunately, this ESU unit had the bad luck of encountering the only door rigged with an IED. The breaching ram barely hit the door before the explosives detonated, sending the officer holding it flying several meters.
Luckily, the rest of the team, trained to stand clear of windows and hug the walls, avoided the worst. Even more fortunate, the IED's charge was relatively small, and the warehouse's reinforced concrete structure absorbed much of the blast.
When Jack and his group arrived from the other side, they found the ESU team leader—unaware of his grave mistake—heroically dragging his injured teammate out of the blast radius while desperately calling for backup.
"Requesting fire and EMS on-site immediately! IED detected in Zone 3, one officer down!"
Seeing flames erupting from the warehouse, accompanied by the acrid smell of chemicals, Jack rushed forward to help move the injured officer to safety. The distant sound of approaching fire and ambulance sirens grew louder.
The NYPD had stationed emergency services near the perimeter, and they arrived in under three minutes. The injured officer was lucky. Despite his bloodied appearance, with half his body pierced by splinters and shrapnel, his injuries were superficial. His body armor and helmet had protected his vital areas.
The shockwave had caused internal trauma, but with Jack's quick intervention, the bleeding from his nose and mouth was minimal. A few days in the hospital, and he'd be back on his feet.
This incident highlighted the need for better coordination between FBI SWAT and NYPD ESU. The misunderstanding was caused by communication issues, but the lack of proper collaboration was evident. On the way back to the Federal Building, Jack resolved to recommend closer integration between the two units.
The NYPD's ESU was arguably the busiest tactical unit in the country. Their name—Emergency Service Unit—reflected their diverse responsibilities, from major criminal cases and counterterrorism to rescue and emergency medical services. Whether at a massive car accident or a collapsed building, ESU was often on the scene.
With only two major tactical units in the New York area, collaboration between FBI SWAT and NYPD ESU was inevitable. However, addressing this would fall to higher-ups like Frank Reagan and Dana Morge. They would need to navigate complex processes, such as cross-training, joint exercises, unified communications, and single-command structures.
Despite the incident, spirits remained high. The fire trucks quickly contained the blaze, preserving the warehouse where Jack's team had discovered a massive cocaine stash. Meanwhile, bomb squad specialists were clearing the explosives.
By the time Jack and Hannah returned to the Federal Building, it was late at night. At the elevator, they encountered a visibly anxious Jim Aubrey, who sighed in relief upon seeing them.
"Everyone okay? I heard there was an explosion," he asked.
Hannah smiled reassuringly. "We're fine. One ESU officer was injured, but the doctors said he's out of danger."
"Thank God," Aubrey said, gesturing behind him. "Jubal and Director Morge are interrogating Vargas right now. You want to listen in? That guy's shorter than I imagined—like a little 'Penguin Man.' But he seems pretty calm."
Jack appreciated Aubrey's concern—it showed he was starting to see himself as part of the team.
"Let's leave the rest to others. We've got a mountain of paperwork waiting tomorrow," Jack said with a grin. "Any good food recommendations nearby? All I want is a decent meal and a good night's sleep."
Aubrey's eyes lit up. Despite his slim build, he was a foodie. "If you don't mind a detour, there's a great BBQ place in Flushing."
Jack started walking. "Add a couple of beers to that. We seized nearly three tons of cocaine—this deserves a celebration. My treat."
"Wow," Aubrey said, beaming. "We might even get to stand behind the director at tomorrow's press conference."
"Let's hope not," Jack quipped. "Your file will be sealed soon enough. Better stay a behind-the-scenes hero."
"Fair enough," Aubrey chuckled. "I don't want a serial killer showing up at my house in the middle of the night."
The next morning, Jack was up early, preparing breakfast before heading to the Federal Building. Hannah had bargained for him to write her reports today in exchange for cosplaying the classic Wonder Woman from the 1976 Linda Carter series—a version where Diana lost her powers without her magic belt. Jack eagerly anticipated the "defeated hero" roleplay later that evening.
But as he brewed a pot of coffee and cracked his knuckles to start the paperwork, his phone buzzed.
Last night, he had promised Clay Spenser a tour of the FBI's New York office. However, the raid and subsequent explosion had pushed the promise to the back of his mind. Now, Clay and Stella were in the underground parking lot, calling to check in. Cursing his forgetfulness, Jack grabbed his things and headed downstairs.
Visitors weren't allowed into the Federal Building without proper clearance. After a security check and ID verification, guests received visitor badges. Jack didn't wait for the front desk to notify him; he grabbed Aubrey, who had just walked into the office yawning, and headed to the lobby.
Introducing Aubrey to Clay made sense—soon, they'd all be working together. On the elevator ride down, Jack briefed Aubrey on Clay, mentioning his background as a SEAL Team B operator. Aubrey, intrigued, was especially curious about Jack's connection to such high-caliber personnel.
When they reached the lobby, Clay and Stella had already passed through the metal detectors. Clay, leaning on a cane, looked far from the rugged SEAL image. Clean-shaven, dressed in a tailored suit, and with his hair slicked back, he seemed more like a Wall Street intern—a transformation clearly orchestrated by Stella.
"Why does this soldier look more like a Wall Street banker than you?" Jack joked to Aubrey before warmly greeting Clay and Stella.
After introducing everyone, Jack exchanged pleasantries with the receptionist and secured two visitor badges. He was about to lead them upstairs when he noticed the two armed guards at the front desk staring past them with alarm.
A familiar female voice rang out behind them, trembling with terror.
"Help me!"
"Get down! Now!"
"Somebody save me!"
"Hands up!"
The lobby erupted in screams and commotion. Security guards rushed over, weapons drawn, aiming at a panicked white woman.
Jack's heart sank. "Alice?"
Standing near the entrance was Alice Taylor, the operations center's technician and single mother. She stood frozen, her hands raised, her face pale with fear.
The source of the panic was immediately apparent: around Alice's neck was a large metal collar, its red digital timer blinking ominously. Strapped to her chest and back were two bundles of red C4 explosives.
(End of Chapter)
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