Chapter 112: Priority "The Boss"

Jason flipped open the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible while Falcon 1, perched on a roof, began raining suppressive fire down on the remaining hostile forces.

"Yes, sir, of course, boss. I’m a little far, but I’ll be there shortly," Jason panted, the physical exertion and the adrenaline rush making his voice ragged. He quickly tried to minimize the surrounding noise.

A burst of automatic fire erupted nearby, followed by a man’s scream, easily audible to Ethan on the other end.

"Everything alright, Jason?" Ethan’s voice was sharp with concern.

"Everything’s fine, boss," Jason lied, ducking behind the Escalade for a momentary reprieve, not wanting to reveal the magnitude of the conflict. "Nothing to worry about."

The sound of the gunshots—un-silenced rounds from the remaining Pipers’ weapons, coupled with Falcon 2’s return fire—grew louder. A man right near Jason screamed a curse. The noise was undeniable now, and it sent a spike of immediate anxiety through Ethan miles away. His heart began to pound against his ribs, a protective response purely driven by his care for his security chief.

Jason slammed the phone shut. The anxiety in Ethan’s voice was unmistakable; it automatically superseded any cleanup operation.

"HURRY UP!" Jason yelled, his voice cutting through the thick smoke pouring from the bar. "The Boss needs us NOW! FALCON 1, FALCON 2, DOUBLE TAP! END THIS!"

The shout acted as a trigger. Falcon 1 and Falcon 2 understood the urgency. The coordination among the trio became even more ruthless.

Jason took cover behind the armored SUV while Falcon 2 grabbed two more grenades. With a synchronized movement, they tossed them towards the most fortified corners of the bar where the last members of The Outlaws were holed up.

The explosions were deafening, a dull, metallic THUMP-CRUMP that sealed the gang’s fate. The screams immediately subsided, replaced by the sound of crumbling concrete and falling wood. The assault was over.

Jason, rifle in hand, stormed into the smoking bar. The few men who remained were wounded, unconscious, or, worse, terrified and completely incapacitated on the floor.

"We surrender! We’re done!" cried one man crawling from the debris.

"Santiago," Jason ordered, not looking at the injured. "Photos. Every man who is breathing. Fast. We are not wasting another second."

Santiago, still shaking from the intense combat and the use of explosives, obeyed. The fear of failing his new boss was stronger than his adrenaline.

Once the photos were done, Jason made an instant decision. "Call your men. Tell them to clean up both sites. I want both locations looking abandoned—no police reports, no lingering evidence. The priority has changed."

"Yes, Boss," said Santiago, dialing a number with trembling hands.

Jason approached him, extending his hand impassively. Santiago, who was still clutching the high-tech automatic rifle, thought for a split second that Jason was going to let him keep it.

"Maybe I deserved it! She let me shoot this beauty!" thought Santiago.

But Jason simply took the rifle with clinical precision. "Almost forgot," Jason said, the only expression being that of a military professional retrieving his gear. "We’ll hold onto this for now. A weapon like this isn’t for you to wander around the city with. Not until you’re formally part of the operation."

Santiago’s heart sank with disappointment, but he nodded quickly. He understood the rifle was a privilege earned through action, not a casual gift.

Jason and the Falcons, without a visible blood stain on their suits, returned to the SUVs. The war was over; the student life had just called.

Ethan returned to the table, masking the sudden spike of anxiety caused by Jason’s frantic call. His heart still hammered against his ribs from the undeniable sound of gunfire he heard in the background.

"Our ride is on its way," he announced, his gaze instantly sweeping the room, evaluating potential threats for the first time that night. The easygoing college night felt paper-thin.

Max, thoroughly drunk, let out a loud burp. "Finally! I’m gonna puke Porsche all over my dorm floor."

Ming looked genuinely worried as he helped Max steady himself. "You need water and a lot of sleep, Max. Seriously, that Cayenne is staying here tonight."

Hailey, still glowing from the intimate exchange with Ethan, noticed the subtle tension in his posture. "Ethan, what’s wrong? You look tense."

Ethan offered a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Nothing. Just dealing with my driver’s terrible sense of timing. He’ll be here soon." He put a hand on Hailey’s shoulder, a gesture that was half affection, half a need to ground himself.

[Tension is excellent, Champion. Distraction is key. Focus on the lamb; let the sheep deal with the wolves.]

The wait began. The celebratory mood of the Pub Quiz faded quickly, replaced by the awkward silence of tired and slightly drunk college students. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Jason, usually hyper-efficient, was late.

Ethan’s internal worry began to escalate. He knew Jason would never be late without a critical reason.

"I’m going to call him again," Ethan muttered, pulling out his phone.

He dialed Jason’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again. Voicemail.

A cold dread settled in his stomach, far heavier than the casual annoyance he pretended to feel. Jason was not answering. And there had been shots.

Ethan thought: "If he’s hurt, or worse... I swear I’ll tear whatever organization did this apart." The thought wasn’t a threat; it was a promise made by the System-enhanced, ruthless version of himself.

Ming noticed Ethan’s growing agitation. "Is your driver okay? The traffic in Cambridge can be a nightmare."

"He’s fine," Ethan said curtly, his fingers already typing a message.

"Call me now, I heard gunshots. Tell me where you are, I’ll come rescue you."

The situation was dire for Jason. He was five minutes from the bar, but his cell phone had just died. He hadn’t noticed because it was in his pocket.

The traffic was terrible, which was slowing him down considerably.

Unbeknownst to Jason, Ethan was convinced his chief of security was in grave, potentially mortal danger.