Although Maldonado's escape was a surprise, the fugitive task force wasn't disheartened in the slightest. By now, everyone understood that the drug lord was running out of options.
It had become clear that his power over the Zapotec Cartel had waned significantly after his years in prison. Despite what DEA intelligence claimed, Maldonado was no longer the omnipotent leader he once was.
Having to rely on his mistress to seduce a low-ranking DEA agent and resorting to humiliating himself with a guard like Simich showed his resourcefulness but also revealed his desperation. His resources were dwindling, and he had few allies left.
Perhaps if he made it back to Mexico, he might regain control of the cartel. But his failure to prepare a contingency plan for the prison break indicated how limited his capabilities had become.
Despite Galeson being a dim-witted traitor, there was one truth in his story: Maldonado had been too high up in the cartel's hierarchy. He might have known their smuggling routes, but little beyond that.
After the helicopter crashed, he had no choice but to rely on Simich to help him find a place to hide, eventually re-establishing contact with the fake priest.
It was likely that Maldonado and Simich had no contact with the priest when they first fled, only managing to reach him after invading Flynn Beckett's ex-wife's house. It was at that point Maldonado decided Simich was expendable and vented his frustrations on Beckett's ex-wife and daughter.
For Maldonado, a "devout" Mexican Catholic and a gang leader, compromising his pride in such a degrading manner was an unbearable shame—something he needed to erase.
Given this, his next moves became more predictable. The task force only needed to follow the Zapotec Cartel's drug trafficking route in reverse.
The fake priest was most likely the cartel's top operative in Philadelphia, responsible for the drug distribution site they had raided earlier. He likely hadn't been caught in the shootout because he was away arranging Maldonado's next move.
Meanwhile, at the crime scene, Jane gazed at Jack with admiration as he confidently explained the situation to the U.S. Marshals. Her eyes sparkled with adoration. He's so brave and brilliant, like a superhero who always shows up right when I need him.
Hannah and JJ, standing nearby, exchanged looks full of displeasure. They'd both identified Jane as a new rival.
"Okay, we know the route starts at the border tunnels in Texas, then moves to the Philadelphia port, the drug processing site, and finally the distribution points," said Marshal Samuels. "But how do we find the processing site? The step before the distribution point?"
The bald-headed senior marshal removed his hat and rubbed his scalp as he glanced at two identical statuettes of the Virgin Mary held by Hannah and JJ.
The statues depicted Our Lady of Guadalupe, a brown-skinned Virgin Mary figure unique to Mexican Catholicism. The craftsmanship wasn't particularly refined—just simple plaster figurines.
"We found twenty crates of these inside the house," JJ explained. "Each crate had twelve statues."
Marshal Samuels weighed the statue in his hand. "Feels heavier than it should." Making the sign of the cross, he smashed it open on the table. From the shattered remains, packets of refined white powder spilled out.
"This is blasphemous," Alice muttered, crossing herself.
Chief Roland's eyes widened in surprise. "So, does that mean you've found the processing site?"
Jubal sighed and replied, "It should be just a few miles away in a monastery. According to the captured dealers, the fake priest's name is Luis. He's been in contact with the abbess there. Drugs smuggled from Texas are processed at the monastery before being distributed to nearby regions."
"Oh, dear God..." Everyone gasped in unison.
That night, the task force regrouped several kilometers away from the monastery, setting up in a clearing surrounded by woods. The command truck stabilized its position with support struts, extended its side panels, and raised its communication antenna.
Inside the truck's small conference room, SWAT and state police commanders gathered to listen to Jubal's briefing.
"The monastery is built over an abandoned mine shaft. Several tunnels connect it to nearby highways, likely serving as secret transport routes.
"We'll need both FBI SWAT and state police to completely seal off the area," Jubal explained, handing a tactical tablet to Chief Roland.
"One more thing," he added solemnly. "The abbess and the nuns are involved in the operation. Instruct your men not to let their religious status lower their guard."
"Understood," Roland replied, though his gaze shifted toward the task force agents who were gearing up.
Jack's team had changed into new black tactical gear. Their weapons remained the same, but their body armor was now black with white "FBI" letters on their chests. They wore FAST helmets equipped with four-lens night vision goggles, making the SWAT officers outside look downright underdressed in comparison.
Jane subtly eyed Hannah and JJ, sensing their hostility. Her instincts told her that these two women were staking some sort of claim. Unsure who was the "alpha," she decided to play nice.
It wasn't about conceding defeat—it was pure pragmatism. After witnessing Hannah dominate the battlefield with a Barrett .50 caliber, Jane had no desire to provoke a confrontation.
Better to play it smart, Jane thought. There's no need to compete openly. If I ever feel the urge, I'll just sneak in later. Jack's not exactly an impenetrable fortress, after all.
"You think we'll run into nuns dressed in habits, hiding submachine guns underneath?" Aubrey teased Jack, nudging him playfully.
"Maybe they'll be wearing leather corsets under their robes," Jack replied dryly. "Are you sure you're not confusing nuns with assassins?"
"Hey, I'm just saying it'd be pretty wild." Aubrey chuckled mischievously.
Jack sighed but couldn't deny the thought was a little entertaining. Maybe I should ask Hannah to cosplay sometime... Or better yet, a powered exosuit—now that would be perfect.
(End of Chapter)
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