Chapter 127: Family

Suspended in midair, Jaquel’s pupils suddenly contracted as he caught sight of the gun Roan was aiming at him. He cursed fiercely:

“F—”

Before he could finish the insult, Roan, wearing a bright smile, pulled the trigger of his Glock 18.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four 9mm bullets shot out instantly. Three struck Jaquel with deadly precision—his left and right calves and his left arm were hit. The remaining bullet, however, grazed his right thigh’s root, narrowly missing due to Jaquel’s instinctive, panicked twist.

Boom—

Despite carrying a satchel, Jaquel did not fall all the way to the ground below but managed to leap onto the rooftop diagonally opposite. Yet, he did not stand; instead, he collapsed face-first onto the surface, crying out in pain.

“Son of a bitch!”

Feeling the sharp sting from three wounded limbs, Jaquel’s skin twitched involuntarily as he gasped sharply. But with years of combat experience under his belt, these gunshot wounds were still within his threshold of endurance.

The moment he hit the ground, his uninjured right hand reached instinctively toward the satchel nearby. Inside were not only a pistol and a rifle but also grenades and smoke bombs—his prearranged arsenal.

“Don’t move!”

As Jaquel’s hand extended, Roan arrived at the high platform on the rooftop’s edge of Mona’s building. Without hesitation, he fired a shot toward the ground between Jaquel and the satchel.

Bang!

The bullet struck the concrete nearby, sending a spray of cement shards onto Jaquel’s face. His movements froze, his expression darkening as he slowly turned his gaze toward Roan, who stood on the opposite rooftop.

“Pull your hand back immediately, Mr. Jaquel.”

Roan paid no heed to the murderous glare in Jaquel’s eyes. Holding the Glock 18 steadily, he spoke with a sunny smile but a cold voice:

“One more inch forward and I’ll send you to meet your maker.”

After silently staring at Roan’s composed face for a few seconds, Jaquel slowly withdrew his hand.

“Good.”

Roan nodded in satisfaction, about to speak when Jaquel, looking grave, asked:

“FBI agent, what’s your name?”

Jaquel was completely baffled by how quickly Roan had found him, and he was shocked by Roan’s speed. He clearly remembered leaving Mona’s apartment as Roan’s Chevrolet was just arriving at the building’s base.

“Don’t make a move, Mr. Jaquel.”

Roan raised an eyebrow upon hearing the question.

It was clear Jaquel wanted to distract him with conversation to find a way to escape. Roan was too familiar with such tactics.

He made no move to answer but instead ordered:

“Jaquel, now slowly move to your left, away from the satchel as far as possible. Once in position, spread your limbs as wide as you can and lie flat on the ground.”

“Shit!”

Hearing this, Jaquel cursed inwardly. This young man appeared so youthful, yet his methods were so seasoned. With his limbs already injured, if he spread out and lay flat, he would become a helpless lamb to the slaughter.

Taking a deep breath, Jaquel was about to speak when Mona, panting and clutching her laptop, suddenly emerged from the stairs.

“Roan! Are you okay?”

Hearing Mona call Roan’s name from the rooftop, Jaquel squinted with hope, looking toward Roan. If this gunman turned at the sound, he might have a chance.

“I’m fine. Calling Lacey first, then an ambulance,” Roan replied without looking back, his eyes locked on Jaquel, a slight smile on his lips.

“Tell Lacey to come to the rooftop of the adjacent building. The Million Dollar Man is under my control.”

Mona’s eyes lit up as she pulled out her phone and nodded emphatically.

“Okay!”

Jaquel cursed under his breath.

—

Not long ago, downstairs at the apartment building—

Lacey was entwined with a fit white female police officer with short hair, whispering into her ear. The officer was none other than Sergeant Charisse of the NYPD.

Nearby, the patrol officers maintaining order and blocking the area from passersby all watched with baffled expressions.

Just as Lacey felt the moment was right, licking her lips and preparing to invite Charisse to her place for a good movie after work, two middle-aged white men wearing FBI gray-blue jackets suddenly appeared. After exchanging low words with the nearby NYPD patrol, they pushed through the barricade and headed toward the building’s main entrance.

Recognizing them, Lacey’s expression shifted. She quickly drew her pistol and stepped forward.

“Sorry, gentlemen, you can’t enter here!”

The lead middle-aged man smiled and extended his hand.

“Hello, I’m Terry, from the Terrorist Screening Center—a division under the FBI’s Homeland Security.”

“Is that so?”

Lacey sneered.

“My colleagues told me you’re from the Counter-Improvised Explosive Device unit.”

Indeed, these two were the CIA agents who had earlier tried to snatch Jaquel from Roan’s grasp. Roan had later informed the No. 5 Investigation Team about the incident and described their appearance. Lacey, harboring a grudge against the CIA and coming from intelligence herself, had memorized their faces well.

Hearing Lacey’s words, Terry’s brow twitched, and a headache came over him.

Not long ago, Mrs. Heloise and her subordinates had interrogated Demonti in the No. 5 Investigation Team’s interrogation room, using a certain drug to extract a word:

“Family.”

The moment Mrs. Heloise heard it, she reacted instantly, dispatching her team to Mona’s home.

If they could find Jaquel, fine; if not, they would take Mona and hold her under CIA control for the time being. Mrs. Heloise knew this would upset the FBI, but without capturing Jaquel, her future at the CIA was uncertain. The FBI’s displeasure was of little consequence.

As long as Mona survived, there would be no major issues.

Classic CIA logic.

Lacey quickly deduced why Terry and his companion were here. Roan had said these two were Mrs. Heloise’s agents. Mrs. Heloise’s target was Jaquel, whose target was Mona, and Mona lived in this building.

If Terry and his partner weren’t after Mona, Lacey wouldn’t believe it for a second.

So when Terry cleared his throat to speak, Lacey raised her gun without hesitation.

“Gentlemen from the CIA, I told you, this area is off-limits.”

Terry’s face darkened suddenly, but before he could reply, Lacey’s phone rang.

Ring ring—

As she pulled out her phone, Terry glanced at his partner.

Without hesitation, the partner swiftly bypassed Lacey and rushed into the apartment building.

“Damn it!”

Lacey scowled in anger, but Terry stepped in front of her with a smile.

“Don’t be mad, Agent Lacey. I’m not leaving. You should take this call—it might be important.”

Typical CIA tactics.

Lacey glanced coldly at Terry before answering.

“This is Lacey.”

The next moment, hearing Mona’s words on the phone, Lacey froze, her expression turning strange.

(End of chapter)