Chapter 110: Colonel Norman Jenkins
After finishing his report on the computer, Jack stretched and prepared to head home. Just then, Tim hurried by, motioning for Jack to follow him. They walked into a small break room where John and the others were already waiting.
Tim closed the door and got straight to the point. "We've got a problem. The facial recognition request we submitted triggered LA's Law Enforcement Conflict Prevention System. The source is pointing to the CIA."
John's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why would the CIA be involved in a counterfeit money case?"
"This is more serious than we thought. If the CIA is involved, it's a matter of national security. Are we sure we want to keep digging?" Nyla warned, looking around the room with a serious expression.
Tim, however, seemed determined not to give up. "I promised Mickey I'd find Joe's killer. Joe was a soldier who served his country. He deserves justice, not to die in obscurity."
"Then let's proceed carefully. Who do you think the CIA will target first if they realize pressuring us from above isn't working?" Jack had barely finished speaking when everyone's gaze fell on John.
"Why me?" John felt somewhat insulted, wondering why they thought he was the easiest target in the room.
Lucy began counting off on her fingers. "Jack has already submitted his resignation and is about to join the FBI. Tim just got promoted to Captain, making him the highest-ranking among us. Angela is a detective, and Nyla voluntarily transferred from the DEA and was awarded a medal by the Governor."
"What about you then?" John asked, puzzled.
"Guess where Lucy's been sleeping lately?" Angela shrugged, tossing the question out as she left the room with a smirk, leaving Lucy and Tim slightly embarrassed, while John had an epiphany.
Split Line ---
Before 11 PM that night, there was a knock at John's door.
When John opened it, he was startled to see the same black man who had posed as a security company repairman earlier that day.
"Hey, man, we need to talk." His accent had dropped the casual rap tone from before.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" The man smiled warmly, noticing John's hesitation.
"Why don't you start by telling me who you are?" John asked, eyes filled with suspicion.
"Right now, you should consider me your friend. And you should be glad, because you don't want to be my enemy."
Despite his smile, there was a clear undertone of menace in his voice.
"Now, let me in." The man spoke with a calm but commanding tone.
John didn't say a word and stepped aside to let him in.
"You've done a nice job redecorating. Did the soon-to-be FBI agent help you out?" The man acted like a casual visitor, looking around John's home.
John remained defiant, not buying into the friendly facade. "I know your game. You walk in, look around, drop hints of personal information to make it seem like you're in control. So, tell me, who are you really?"
"You can call me Colonel Norman Jenkins."
"But you're with the CIA, aren't you?" John directly confronted him.
"Names don't mean much. My team operates in the shadows, doing the work no one will acknowledge," Colonel Norman Jenkins explained.
"Why are you here?" John asked, though he already had an idea.
Colonel Jenkins's demeanor shifted as he took a step closer, staring directly into John's eyes. "Consider this a warning. Tell your police buddies to stop meddling in this. Trying to dig up my information was a grave mistake. You won't find anything. Let's hope this is the last time you act foolishly."
John frowned, refusing to back down from the threat. "We just want to know who killed Joe Delacruz."
"Who?" Colonel Jenkins seemed momentarily confused, then remembered. "You mean that homeless vet? Why do you care?"
John was taken aback by the question. "Why? He was a person, a veteran. He served his country..."
"Hold on a second. You've got this all wrong." Colonel Jenkins's tone was puzzled, as if he was genuinely perplexed by John's stance.
"We're on the same side here. You, me, and Joe—we're all Americans."
"We're all making sacrifices for this country's interests. My team's operations are just on a more global scale."
John interrupted his grand speech. "So you think that justifies killing people?"
Colonel Jenkins let out a scoff, looking at John as if he were naive. "Every war has casualties. Joe was just collateral damage. You should hope you're not next."
He patted John on the shoulder and left the house without further explanation.
John stood for a moment, listening to the car engine fade away before calling out, "He's gone, guys."
From the attic, backyard, and even the bedroom, the rest of the team emerged.
Jack entered through the front door, dressed in black. As everyone turned to him, he asked, "Did you get the tracker on?"
"Yep, it's under his car. We'll know wherever he goes," Jack said, waving a tablet with the tracker's signal on display. "Putting a tracker on a CIA agent's car—now that's thrilling."
"What's our next move? Follow him?" Lucy was eager and ready for action.
"No, the next steps are for just two people," Tim said, looking at Nyla with a tone that brooked no argument.
"From here on, Nyla and I will handle it. The rest of you can't afford to get involved."
"Uh," Jack raised a finger, indicating he had something to add. "How about you hear me out before we make any decisions?"
Everyone turned their attention to him.
"Ahem!" Jack cleared his throat.
"First, we now know Joe's death is connected to Norman Jenkins and his team, right? I heard him say 'collateral damage' in my earpiece."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Second, our visitor never officially identified himself, right? So, we could say a suspect in the murder investigation threatened an LAPD officer, couldn't we?"
The group paused, considering the idea. While it seemed a bit of a stretch, they realized it was technically valid.
"So, following him makes perfect sense, doesn't it? And if we discover something during our surveillance—like a stash of counterfeit money—we wouldn't be violating any of the federal directives placed on us, would we?"
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