Chapter 1150: Picking Up Work for the Navy (Patreon)

“Presidential Medal of Freedom?” Jack asked in surprise.

He wasn’t shocked to see Rossi again in Dana Morges’ office four weeks after the Alcatraz incident. What puzzled him was this medal Rossi just mentioned.

Rossi chuckled and corrected him, “It’s the Distinguished Presidential Medal of Freedom. It comes with an extra blue ribbon. Only about 4% of recipients get it at this level. The last one awarded went to Pope John Paul II—nearly twenty years ago.”

Jack held up a hand to pause him, pulled out his phone, and Googled it. Only then did he realize this was considered one of the highest honors a civilian could receive.

The only other civilian award with comparable status was the Congressional Gold Medal, though the latter required a far more cumbersome process—support from two-thirds of both houses of Congress and a rigorous committee review.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom, by contrast, could be granted at the sole discretion of the President.

It had been over a month since the VX missile crisis on Alcatraz. The aftermath had begun to settle.

General Hammer had been brought before a military tribunal. Perhaps in an attempt to calm internal unrest—or for other reasons—Jack’s testimony might have played a part. The battle-hardened general was ultimately sentenced to only 20 years. A “grudging compromise” from Congress.

Tensions between the military and Congress were nothing new. And now that Jack had connections of his own in high places, he didn’t need to play the bootlicker. In fact, a certain newly elected female senator would sometimes “volunteer” to keep his bed warm—a kind of bedroom diplomacy, so to speak.

So Jack chose to testify truthfully. He submitted the conversation he overheard outside the guardroom as evidence, stating clearly that General Hammer had refused to launch the VX missiles—a detail that proved pivotal in the final verdict.

After all, Hammer was part of the Marine Corps, and as everyone knew, the Marines were the only branch of the U.S. military the President could deploy without congressional approval—at least in theory.

In reality, there had never been an instance in U.S. history where a president deployed troops without Congress’s involvement. America wasn’t some banana republic where “airborne troops” randomly staged coups or where presidents rebelled on a whim.

Still, unlike Jack’s past life where America’s strategy had pivoted back to great-power competition post–Cold War, in this fused version of the world, the status quo held strong. Counter-terrorism operations remained intense, and the Marines—flexible and easy to deploy—remained in high demand, subtly challenging the more bureaucratic Army.

Though Hammer had created a massive scandal for the Marines, the deeper cause stemmed from longstanding military frustrations. In some ways, his actions highlighted issues the military had been warning about for years.

So while punishing the “fourth-tier personnel,” the military also took the opportunity to push back at Congress. Hammer’s relatively light sentence was their way of making a statement.

Jack was a bit overwhelmed by the political complexity of it all, but thankfully, none of it really concerned him. As an FBI agent who’d turned the tide during the crisis, he wasn’t likely to be targeted for retaliation.

If VX warheads had leveled San Francisco, resulting in massive civilian casualties, both the Marines and Congress would’ve shared the blame—especially those senators who had denied Hammer’s pleas on behalf of his fallen troops.

Sometimes, it took catastrophe to jolt the powers that be into action—no matter the country.

Goosby, fresh off his honeymoon, also received a Presidential Medal of Freedom—though his didn’t include the “Distinguished” prefix. Still, it was a significant honor.

As for the SEALs, they’d likely each get a Navy Cross. Jason might even receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. The military never skimped when rewarding their own.

“So you flew all the way from L.A. to New York just to tell me about a medal?” Jack asked skeptically.

“Of course! It’s a huge honor,” Rossi replied with a sly wink.

Jack wasn’t buying it. “Cut the crap. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

Rossi, well aware that his protégé had no interest in medals, chuckled and got to the point.

“The Navy’s requesting assistance from the FBI. Their Criminal Investigative Service has been operating at full throttle for too long—agents haven’t had leave in ages.”

“NCIS is overwhelmed?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Jethro Gibbs doesn’t strike me as the type to ask for help.”

“There was a car bomb outside an office building at the Navy Yard yesterday. The incident’s still under wraps, but NCIS is overwhelmed.”

Rossi’s words made Jack sit up. “Someone bombed NCIS’s building? Who did it? Was anyone hurt?”

Rossi’s smile vanished. He nodded solemnly. “The building’s outer wall was badly damaged. Several Navy staff were injured. Members of Gibbs’s field team sustained minor injuries.”

“But their forensics lab was mostly intact—your goth high school sweetheart is fine.”

“Abby is just a classmate from high school. I was pure until I turned twenty,” Jack protested emphatically.

Rossi, connecting the dots, smirked. “So, Anderson or Hannah—which one’s the lucky lady?”

“Obviously it’s—” Jack bit his tongue just in time, nearly falling for the trap.

“Anyway,” he changed the subject, “how much did you sell our team out for this time?”

“It’s just cooperation.” Rossi made a show of looking insulted. “The Navy hopes your team can take over some jurisdictionally ambiguous cases. In return, you won’t have to worry about fuel costs for that Bombardier jet for a long time.”

“If I recall correctly,” Jack grumbled, “the Bureau agreed to cover the crew and maintenance on that plane in exchange for us taking international cases.”

“Well, the International Division now falls under the New York office. Your budget and theirs are one and the same.”

Rossi sighed like a man taking care of an old lover. “Consider it a favor. The deal’s already done. If you don’t take the cases, they’ll go to another team—but NCIS prefers to work with you.”

Figures. Help someone once, and you’re roped in forever. Jack was certain this was Gibbs’s idea. The old guy sure knew how to cash in a favor.

“Fine,” Jack relented with a sigh. “Let’s say I’m returning the favor for all the times the Navy’s helped us out.”