American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop

"That's where everyone will be staying. During the mission, this will be our base, and Jack, you can safely store your stuff here. It's completely secure." Matt hopped out of the car and pointed towards a row of dormitory buildings in the distance.

"However, we'll have to go there later. The operations meeting is about to start, and we're planning to move at dawn tomorrow, so we're tight on time."

The group got out of the car and followed Matt into the building ahead. They entered a small auditorium that was already filled with people.

Jack scanned the room and saw about thirty large, muscular men, many still in desert camouflage, with assault rifles leaning against their legs. They looked worn out, likely just returned from the front lines—these must be the Delta Force operators.

Among the other attendees were DEA agents, identifiable by their badges at their waists. The most striking figures were two older, heavyset men in cowboy hats with white beards—Federal Marshals responsible for prisoner transport.

Sitting next to the two old marshals, Jack spotted a familiar face: Cordell Walker, a Texas Ranger wearing a white cowboy hat, white shirt, and blue jeans. He was the uncle of Hannah, who had once gone camping with Jack near the border. If it hadn't been for Jack and Hannah, his entire family might have been in danger.

Walker raised his right hand, lifted his white cowboy hat slightly, and nodded at Jack in greeting. Jack quickly nodded back, acknowledging him. If he had to follow American customs strictly, he should be calling him "Uncle," but fortunately, most Americans weren't too concerned with such formalities.

For some reason, every time Jack saw Walker—who reminded him of the younger brother from Supernatural—he had the odd urge to pull a bottle of salt out of his pocket. It was a strange association.

Luckily, this wasn't the right time or place to make small talk. Jack followed Matt and the others, finding some folding chairs in the back row and sitting down.

"You know those annoying Rangers? In Texas, there's no getting around these guys if you want to do anything," Matt whispered.

"One of them is my friend," Jack replied, not offering more details, as the meeting was about to begin.

Even federal forces, when conducting exercises in Texas, had to deal with the Texas Rangers watching over them—part of the Lone Star State's unique nature.

The Texas Rangers have a Special Operations Group, a quasi-military unit that includes a tactical team known as the Ranger Recon Team. They conduct long-term covert operations against drug cartels in remote areas where regular law enforcement can't operate, focusing on gathering intelligence and disrupting criminal activities.

Walker's presence wasn't a surprise to Jack. He had already coordinated through Hannah, as they might need the Ranger's help in the coming operation.

A stocky, thick-necked, dog-tag-wearing, old master sergeant appeared at the podium, waved at Matt, and without any small talk, launched directly into the mission briefing.

The large projector screen displayed a high-resolution satellite map of Ciudad Juárez, with additional labels marking certain locations. The master sergeant used a laser pointer to indicate routes and key spots on the map.

"After crossing the border, the Mexican Federal Police will meet you and escort you to the courthouse. Be aware, this is a high-priority target. There are two locations where the enemy might strike: the prisoner transfer point and the border checkpoint on the way back.

"The Marshals will handle the prisoner handoff—that's these two old guys, Keith and Kevin," he said, smiling as he pointed to the two elderly Federal Marshals.

The two white-bearded old men stood up, their sharp eyes sweeping the room with authority, and tipped their hats in acknowledgment.

The master sergeant gestured for them to sit back down and continued with the briefing.

"Afterwards, we'll cross back into the U.S. at Laredo, where the Texas Rangers will take over." Before he could finish, Walker raised his hand, signaling that he was their contact.

"God, I love those Texans," Matt muttered quietly next to Jack.

Laredo is located over 800 kilometers south of Ciudad Juárez, also right along the border. Like El Paso, Laredo is split by the Rio Grande River. On the Texas side is Laredo, and on the Mexican side is Nuevo Laredo. Along the U.S.-Mexico border, especially in the Texas region, there are many cities like this.

After the Mexican-American War, Mexico lost half of its territory, and the Rio Grande River, originating in the Rocky Mountains and flowing to the Gulf, became the natural boundary between the two countries.

As the U.S. built numerous upstream water projects and diverted water freely, much of the fresh water was used to water American lawns, causing the Rio Grande to dry up, often to the point of no flow. Downstream, Mexican farmers were left with no water, and after exhausting underground supplies, many went bankrupt and fled north, easily crossing the dry riverbed to work for U.S. farmers.

The master sergeant finished outlining the operation route, turned off the projector, and turned on the overhead lights, beginning introductions.

"These are our friends from Delta Force. They've 'volunteered' for this operation and will be protecting the Marshals during the transfer. Please raise your hands, so everyone knows who to hide behind if things go sideways."

Amid low chuckles, a group of burly men raised their hands in acknowledgment. Finally, the sergeant's gaze shifted to the back row. "Matt, are you and your team coming with us or heading straight to Laredo?"

"We'll come along. The FBI brought their own gear. Just give me and Michael a couple of guns, and we're good," Matt replied lazily.

"Great. Looks like we've got an all-star lineup."

The master sergeant chuckled and nodded. "Once we're done here, I'll get you guys some gear. You'll take point on the way down, Matt.

"On the way back, be extra careful. The Mexican side will most likely make their move on the return trip, so Delta will lead the way, you'll guard the middle, and the rest will cover the rear. Got it?"

He paused and then stressed, "Remember, the most likely place for trouble is at the border, especially in the gray area between the checkpoints. Once you cross into Mexico, anyone not in this room right now could be an enemy. The mission isn't over until we're back in this room. Understood?"

Everyone nodded in unison, and the master sergeant clapped his hands. "Alright, stay alert, stay sharp. Go prepare, and get a good night's sleep. We head out at 6 a.m. sharp tomorrow."

——

That night, Jack was in his room cleaning his firearms when Jane knocked and entered, leaning close to his ear and whispering, "Something's off about Alejandro."

Her warm breath made his ear itch, and Jack couldn't help but smile as he turned his head. "What's off about him?"

Jane took the Noveske N4 from his side, swiftly disassembling and cleaning it as she spoke. "I don't know, it's just a feeling. He doesn't seem like a DHS guy or even a CIA operative."

Jack raised an eyebrow, impressed by her sharp intuition. "So, what do you think he is?"

Jane took the gun oil Jack handed her and shook her head. "I can't say for sure, but I don't even think he's American. Do you think he could be a CIA informant?"

Jack was surprised. He had just received some information from Justin, and Jane's guess was already quite close.

"He used to be a prosecutor in Colombia."

He hesitated for a moment before deciding to clarify. "It's not a pleasant story. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Ah, wait, don't nod yet."

Jack lifted his hand, gently pressing her chin. "I'll tell you, but you must promise not to look at him differently afterward. No pity, sympathy, or disgust—none of that. If you do, I'll have no choice but to send you back to Phoenix."

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