Chapter 1156: Mistaken Identity in the Dragon King's Temple (Patreon)

"Target spotted, people. Jack, five o'clock from your position," came Jubal's voice through comms from his vantage point at a stone table near the pond, overseeing the entire park.

Jack, mid-downward dog pose, glanced back between his legs and spotted a white man with a green baseball cap and a full beard—just like Aubrey’s—approaching the bench.

Something felt off, though he couldn’t quite say what. He shifted his gaze from a curvaceous jogger passing the lawn and slowly straightened up.

He gave a subtle signal to the two women across from him, and the three began rolling up their yoga mats, as if getting ready to leave the lawn.

At the same time, Clay and his K9 partner casually moved closer. The frisbee they threw landed just seven or eight meters from Aubrey’s bench.

"You Tom?" the bearded man asked as he sat down beside Aubrey. Both stared at each other, their near-identical beards creating an awkward mirror effect.

"Yeah." Though inwardly suspicious, Aubrey quickly caught on and nodded grimly.

"Can I see the sample you mentioned?"

The man glanced discreetly at the canvas bag on the bench next to Aubrey. Beads of sweat appeared on the tip of his nose—a sign he wasn’t as calm as he tried to appear.

That made sense. They’d told the website Aubrey was an explosives expert. Elise had even described his ‘loyalty gift’ as a homemade IED.

"Sure," Aubrey replied, reaching for the zipper on the canvas bag—just as Jubal gave the go-ahead.

By then, the team had already formed a quiet perimeter. Everyone reached for their weapons.

Jack and the others pulled pistols from inside rolled yoga mats. Clay and the K9 officer had their gear hidden in wrist pouches. Aubrey flipped his hand and pulled a handgun directly from the bag.

"FBI! Hands where I can see them!"

"ATF! Identify yourself!"

"FBI! Don’t move!"

Both sides shouted simultaneously, startling the unsuspecting parkgoers, who scattered in panic.

The K9 officer had to hold tightly onto the German shepherd’s collar as the loyal dog snarled, ready to pounce on the green-capped man now claiming to be from ATF.

Jack, realizing something was off, was about to speak when he sensed a sudden breeze behind him. He instinctively sidestepped, dropped his shoulder, and absorbed the impact—only to find himself catching a very curvy, very familiar woman.

"Oh, Jack, your fashion sense is worse than ever. I guess your girls haven’t been taking care of you," said Jane Banner, wrapping her arms around Jack’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Ahem… looks like we’ve got ourselves a misunderstanding, everyone. Lower your weapons," Jack said awkwardly, gently setting Jane down while prying her arms off his neck. He could already feel two pairs of burning eyes from across the lawn. He gave her a light tap on the hip, signaling her to mind the situation.

She had dyed her hair a deep wine red—no wonder he hadn’t recognized her from behind earlier.

"What are you doing here?"

Hannah stormed forward and rudely shoved Jane’s hand off Jack’s shoulder. JJ, meanwhile, smiled and gave her an affectionate hug—old friends reunited, and also a subtle way of keeping her under control.

"I’m here to arrest a terrorist bomber. I’ve been working with the ATF on a sting operation."

Jane had met the fugitive task force before, though they weren’t close. She hadn’t recognized anyone earlier either, but now she greeted everyone warmly as if they were long-lost friends.

"Relax, guys. It’s all a misunderstanding. They’re with the FBI."

"Don’t tell me you’re Dorian Hobart," Hannah snapped, clearly still agitated, her clenched white teeth looking ready to bite someone.

"Well… not quite. I’ve been running a bait website for ATF for the last six months."

Jane gave an awkward yet polite smile, freezing Hannah’s rage into an expression of embarrassed realization.

That’s just how Texas girls were—honest and straightforward. The moment she realized they may have jeopardized someone else’s op, her anger turned into discomfort.

"It’s almost lunchtime anyway. How about we eat and talk it through? We haven’t tried Southern cuisine around here yet," Jack suggested, noticing the growing crowd—state police support units and ATF agents with tactical vests.

"Oh, Agent Banner. Long time no see," Jubal said as he walked over, recognizing Jane from the Allenwood Federal Prison escape case.

Completely unfazed by the awkwardness, Jubal pointed toward the confused green-capped man with the beard. "So I take it that’s not Dorian Hobart?"

"Of course not." Jane shook his hand. "That’s ATF Special Agent Marston. He’s our ‘bait.’"

She then frowned at Aubrey. "Did they give you guys the same fake beard?"

——
Lobster-stuffed mushrooms, red wine lamb chops, Virginia smoked ham, and grilled oysters.

Compared to the Yankees up north, Dixies down south definitely knew how to eat. Richmond, once the capital of the Confederacy, offered no shortage of local culinary delights.

Jane was happily feasting while filling everyone in on her side of the story.

"We got intel that Dorian Hobart had been recruiting bomb experts for domestic extremist groups. So ATF and I set up a joint sting op. What’s your angle?"

"Murder case," Jack replied, sitting stiffly—not just because JJ and Hannah flanked him, but because the rest of the team looked like they were dying for gossip.

Aubrey had even called Elise from the station and paid for everyone’s lunch.

"I thought you usually only chased active cases. Who was the victim?" Jane’s attention never left Jack.

Jack frowned, confused by her phrasing, but clarified,
"It is an active case. Happened just yesterday morning. The victim was Valerie Barnes—wife of an active-duty SEAL team commander. His name’s still up on your bait website."

"Sorry to hear that. But I think your investigation might be a bit off-track. Dorian Hobart was arrested more than two months ago. We’ve had full control of that website since then."

Jane’s words made Elise’s eyes widen. "No wonder I couldn’t trace the IP address through any of the proxies or stepping stones."