Chapter 1141: Not Quite Mission Accomplished (Patreon)

Almost at the same moment the team left the underground passage, the GPS signal representing their position appeared on the screen of the Joint Operations Center, sparking an immediate outcry.

“‘Eagle’ has changed plans. The signal shows they’re approaching the prison hospital. They’re safe—that’s a huge relief!”

Everyone in front of the screen exhaled audibly. Although both SEAL Team B’s logistics support crew and Jack’s friends had complete faith in their respective teams, the earlier explosion on the island was an undeniable fact.

Among them was Mason’s daughter, Jade, whom the BAU team, under Jack’s direction, had secretly brought to the operations center under the pretense of maintaining confidentiality.

She wasn’t being held as a hostage; in fact, if the mission were to fail, Fisherman’s Wharf—being the closest safe zone to Alcatraz—was the best possible place for her.

“With Jack there, your father will be fine. Trust me,” Emily wrapped her arm around the silently weeping girl’s shoulders, her smile radiating confidence.

——

Crack—a crisp snap, and the thick neck of a white soldier went limp, the light of life fading from his eyes in an instant.

As Jack moved to drag the body away, a puzzled voice echoed from the morgue, “Hahn?”

Clay raised his MDX508 short-barrel assault rifle, about to shoot the enemy who had poked his head out to investigate—when a sudden gust brushed past his ear. A knife flew past his temple and embedded itself in the man’s throat.

“Don’t hesitate when you strike, kid,” said Mason as he quickly stepped forward, sidestepping the spraying blood. He pulled the knife free, wiped it on the corpse, and tucked it back into his boot.

“When did he even get that—” Clay’s words trailed off as his eyes fell on the body Jack had just dragged. Realization struck—this old man had quick hands.

“Clear! We found a launcher hidden under the skylight. No wonder the drone couldn’t spot it,” came the voice of Deputy Leader Ray Perry from the stairwell leading to the second floor.

Moments later, team leader Jason entered from the opposite hallway with two other members. “Clear. Looks like they only left two guards in the morgue.”

As if by chance, they had successfully executed a misdirection tactic. It was clear that General Hammer and his troops were still busy searching for “rats” under the prison building, completely unaware their base had just been breached.

Jack grinned, but before he could say anything, Gusbey suddenly darted past him from around the corner and charged into the morgue.

He opened one of the refrigerated body drawers. A cool mist spilled out, revealing two VX gas missiles placed side by side inside. At the sight, everyone breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Looks like we’ve got the upper hand now. Notify ‘Eagle’s Nest’ immediately,” said Jason, still stern-faced. While the main objective had been mostly achieved, it was far too early to celebrate.

“Hold on,” Gusbey said, his voice turning tense again as Sonny and Clay helped him open all the remaining drawers and count.

“There are only twelve missiles here. We still need to find three more.”

“Two more. There’s one mounted on the launcher upstairs,” Ray Perry said grimly.

“It’s probably at the northernmost point of the island, at the lighthouse. There’s another launcher hidden there,” Jack added, then looked to Mason. “The lighthouse is separated from here by the prison building. Is there a tunnel leading to it?”

Mason’s face showed a hint of unease. “I may need to correct myself. The tunnels don’t reach every part of the island. That lighthouse was built on a separate rock outcropping.”

“Should we just call in the Air Force to destroy the lighthouse?” Ray Perry offered.

But Gusbey immediately shot that down. “If you do that, San Francisco might be spared, but everyone on this island—including us and the 81 hostages—will die.”

Jason glanced at Jack, who was deep in thought, then turned to Ray Perry. “Start preparing our defenses. Hammer will realize something’s wrong soon enough. He and his soldiers will launch an assault to try and retake these missiles.”

“Good thing this place used to be a fortress. I can finally make good use of those narrow firing slits,” Sonny said excitedly, patting his beloved machine gun.

Jason thought for a moment before issuing his orders. “Ray, report the situation to ‘Eagle’s Nest.’ Clay, stay here and assist Dr. Gusbey with disarming the missiles’ warheads and guidance systems. Mr. Mason, please stay as well. Jack, let’s talk—outside.”

——

The news from the assault team revitalized the spirits in the Joint Operations Center. Thirteen of the fifteen VX missiles had been recovered—just shy of perfect completion of the primary mission objective.

That wasn’t to say the hostages in the prison building were unimportant, but when weighed against the lives of hundreds of thousands—or even millions—those 81 people, tragically, were statistically negligible.

“Yes, even if they threaten to kill the hostages, we can’t let these missiles fall back into enemy hands. But I’d still prefer to avoid that outcome. What’s your take?”

That was the issue Jason wanted to discuss with Jack in private.

Jack held a radio he’d retrieved from one of the bodies, his expression grim. “The outcome you want to avoid is practically inevitable. They won’t give up that easily.”

By now, the story he once knew had completely gone off-script. He could no longer predict what was going to happen next.

“We’ll have to take it one step at a time. Let’s repel their first assault and go from there,” Jack said. He wasn’t entirely without a plan, but now wasn’t the time—he’d have to play it by ear.

Just then, a transmission came through the radio. “Blackbird One, this is Blackbird. Come in, do you read?!”

Jack brought the radio to his ear. The voice was unmistakable—it was General Hammer. “Blackbird One, this is Blackbird! Respond, damn it!”

——

“Doctor, how much more time do you need?” Jack asked as he stepped quietly into the morgue. Even for someone as unflinching as him, his eye twitched at the sight of the large, translucent cluster of "grapes" dangling from Gusbey’s hand.

Those glass spheres—any one of which could shatter—were packed with VX nerve agent. If one broke, Jack might barely escape using healing spells, but everyone else in the hospital would be dead before they could scream.

Everyone was equipped with three emergency atropine autoinjectors, but in a scenario like this, they were about as effective as sugar pills.

In the original show, Gusbey had used a direct intrathoracic injection of atropine, and that could work—assuming he had time to escape the toxic zone afterward.

If anyone continued inhaling the vaporized VX agent, even Jack wouldn’t survive—no matter how many healing spells he cast on himself.

Gusbey didn’t answer, fully absorbed in his delicate task. Clay, assisting him, was equally tense, beads of sweat forming densely on his forehead.