Chapter 1145: Surrender (Patreon)

“You FBI bastards kidnapped my daughter. I can’t let you die.” Mason’s reason for going with Jack was casually dismissive at best.

Aside from Jack, no one present had any real relationship with the old man. So when Mason volunteered to accompany Jack on a suicide mission, the others were more surprised than opposed.

The B Team SEALs offered their thoughts as always, but obeying orders was a soldier’s basic duty. After team leader Jason issued the command, the squad, though still worried for Jack, quickly began preparing their gear.

They had a long journey ahead—first, they had to return to the sewer to retrieve their diving equipment, then circle around half the island to the cliffs beneath the lighthouse, and somehow climb up.

Even if Jack promised to draw attention, the risk the SEALs faced was still immense.

The 20-to-30-meter-high cliff, weathered by sea wind for years, was prone to collapse. The lighthouse had two guards constantly monitoring the sea, and getting caught mid-climb would mean near-certain death.

——

“Don’t shoot! We surrender!”

“Who are you?”
From beside the hostages, General Hammer stood ramrod straight, glaring at the two figures walking out of the prison hospital with their hands raised.

“We’re the ones you’re looking for, General,” Jack called out, squinting into the spotlight aimed at his face.

“Bullshit!” Hammer barked, while his deputy, Major Buster, gestured for two soldiers to investigate.

The two soldiers exchanged hesitant glances, then reluctantly left their cover and moved cautiously past Jack and Mason, covering each other as they entered the hospital.

Jack and Mason climbed the steps slowly with their hands raised. Only when they got closer did the searchlight finally move away from their faces.

One face was too young; the other, too old. Even Hammer looked visibly surprised.

His eyes darted between the two before settling on Mason. “I thought I was the only old man left. Name and rank, sailor.”

Buster and another soldier stepped forward, weapons aimed at their backs, and began patting them down for weapons.

“Actually, I’m Army.”
Compared to the awkward Jack—who wasn’t used to being searched—Mason, long familiar with prison frisks, remained composed.

“Answer properly—with respect!” Buster snapped, jabbing his rifle into Mason’s back.

Mason sighed, lowered his arms, stood upright, and adopted the posture of a junior officer before a superior. “Captain John Mason, Royal Airborne Special Service, retired, sir.”

“A Brit? Captain, how the hell did you get caught up in this?” Hammer asked, taken aback.

Mason shot Jack a dirty look. “I know this prison very well. I was once a guest here.”

“And you?” Hammer turned to Jack. “State your identity, young man.”

Jack lowered his hands as well. “I’m not military—FBI Special Agent Jack Tavor. Just call me Jack, General.”

“FBI? Not a spec ops unit? Why only two of you? Where are the others?”

Before Jack could answer, the two soldiers who had entered the hospital came rushing out in a panic. “Damn it! They disarmed all the missiles—the VX warheads are gone!”

Hammer’s commanding demeanor shattered. He grabbed Jack by the collar, then paused and turned to grab Mason instead.

“What the hell did you do?! Where are your comrades?!”

“Obviously, they left—with the VX warheads,” Jack said, ignoring Mason’s silent plea. “Don’t blame Mr. Mason—he’s just a poor guide forced to cooperate.”

Even a seasoned warrior like General Hammer looked stunned. “Left? I still have 81 hostages and two missiles ready to launch. Why would you retreat? Who authorized that?!”

“Pentagon orders, of course, General,” Jack lied smoothly. “They decided the remaining VX missiles aren’t a threat. As for the hostages…”

He shrugged and gave a puzzled look. “Wasn’t it your idea to block all information from getting out? So, there’s no terrorist attack. Maybe it’s just a ferry accident due to rough seas.

Or perhaps a structural failure in the aging prison. Or an old ammunition depot explosion. You know, the FBI is great at covering things up.”

Hammer looked as though a stone had lodged in his chest. His face turned from red to pale and back again, nearly coughing up blood.

“You son of a bitch!” a soldier shouted, smashing the butt of his rifle into Jack’s head.

Jack turned his face slightly, avoiding a direct hit to the nose. The stock struck his forehead. Blood immediately ran down his brow, dripping from his chin.

“Enough!” Hammer barked, raising a hand to stop any further violence. His face darkened. “Why did you two surrender, then?”

“For the 81 hostages, of course. It’s time to stop, General,” Jack replied without hesitation. “We’re your prisoners now. You can take us—and the remaining warheads—and leave safely by helicopter.”

Jack’s tone was matter-of-fact, and Mason chimed in.

“Your plan has failed. The Air Force could reduce this place to ashes at any moment. Whether for the hostages or your men—it’s time to accept defeat with dignity.”

As Mason spoke, Jack’s eyes scanned each face present, comparing them to the dossiers they’d received.

Just as Reid had predicted, Hammer’s ranks had shifted.
Only Buster and a captain in his 30s were confirmed loyalists.
The rest appeared to be mercenaries.

The one who struck Jack was a thick-lipped, bowl-cut Black soldier—definitely a mercenary.

“Extortion?” Hammer looked at Mason. “I’m not a terrorist. So they just used you as a guide, without telling you why I did this, didn’t they?”

Mason shrugged and played dumb, remembering Jack’s goal was to buy time. So he spoke more than usual.

“I may have been in prison, but I’ve seen you on TV. You’re a famous war hero, aren’t you? I figured this wasn’t about money.”

“As a former soldier yourself, you must know the pain of being betrayed by your superiors,” Hammer said, folding his arms and stepping closer to Mason. “We should be on the same side.”

It was clear he had no intention of conversing with Jack, the FBI agent.