Jack couldn't help but recall how absurd it had seemed in his previous life to see certain games include messages advising laborers, like miners, to reduce oil and salt intake for health reasons. To him, messages like that were either ignorant or deliberately condescending—akin to the absurdities in an old high school reading assignment he remembered, where a "kind" factory owner fed his overworked laborers wilted lettuce leaves soaked in saltwater as a rare delicacy.
Since joining the Most Wanted Fugitive Task Force, everyone's physical appearance had noticeably improved, not just Alice's. It was common knowledge that regular exercise enhanced both physical fitness and mental well-being, but in reality, few people could maintain a consistent workout routine.
New Yorkers, with their seemingly trim and fit appearances, often relied more on extreme dieting than exercise. Despite the city's obsession with yoga and Pilates, most of that "body management" was achieved through hunger-induced self-discipline. Even Jubal, once a fit and handsome field agent, had begun to gain weight after a few years in the office.
Clive, despite his dedication to workouts, also struggled to keep his physique after leaving SEAL operations due to a leg injury. The reduced physical activity and aging had left him with a slightly bulkier frame, though he managed to keep it under control.
Jack, however, had pushed the entire team into an almost militant fitness regimen. With the flu season raging, they all benefitted from what they jokingly called his "cheat codes"—a combination of his knowledge of physical therapy and uncanny healing methods. Injuries like muscle strains and fatigue barely fazed them anymore. The dopamine and endorphins from regular exercise had become a near-addiction for the group, with everyone reaping the rewards.
Even Alice, once a fan of bland salads, had ditched the trendy "healthy" foods in favor of Jack's balanced, flavor-packed meals. His Chinese-inspired philosophy of always including vegetables alongside rich dishes made factory-processed juices and diet shakes look like a joke.
This morning's breakfast—high-calorie biscuits and gravy—was just what the team needed. Only those who starved themselves counted calories with obsessive care. With Jack's brutal workouts, any excess energy would be burned off soon enough.
Soon, steaming plates were delivered to the table, along with a pot of fresh coffee. The waitress, just about to leave, was stopped by Jack's gentle voice.
"Sorry to hold you up for a moment," he said discreetly flashing his badge so as not to draw the attention of nearby diners.
"We just have a few questions. It's about the murder of the three assistant prosecutors the other night."
According to the Little Rock office, the anonymous call from two days ago had come from this restaurant's landline. Based on the description of the female caller and the fact that this mom-and-pop diner had only one waitress, it was pretty clear who had made the call.
The waitress stiffened slightly, nervously glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention. She let out a small sigh of relief when she saw no one was watching.
"I know everyone's been talking about it," she said hesitantly. "But I don't know those people, and I really don't want any trouble."
Jack's voice softened further, his tone warm and persuasive.
"Of course. We understand. A kind lady called in with a tip, mentioning that two gang members were bragging about the crime. We're just here to thank her in a way that won't cause her any problems. And, if she can help us confirm any details to move the case forward, there's even a small reward available."
The waitress's hands clenched nervously behind her back, but her eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, well… in that case… it was me. I made the call.
"They were sitting right there," she said, pointing to a nearby table. "They ordered two 'three and three' breakfast combos. Paid in cash before leaving. I overheard them bragging while serving them."
Jubal shot Jack a look of approval and quickly jumped in with more questions. "Did they say anything specific besides what you mentioned in the call?"
The waitress winced apologetically. "I'm sorry. Mornings are always busy, so I didn't catch much more. But I don't think they were locals. I've never seen them before."
"Millie, right?" Clive smiled, pointing to the nametag pinned to her chest. His friendly grin made her blush slightly.
"Can you describe them?" he asked.
"Sure." She glanced around nervously but then gave a sheepish smile as her gaze wandered between the various attractive men at the table. Even Aubrey, who had been quietly scarfing down his food, wasn't spared from her admiration. Her eyes twinkled as if she were surrounded by celebrities.
"Honestly, they looked pretty average. Ugly, even. But they were built like tanks. Most of the time, they spoke in Spanish."
She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, right! One of them had a tattoo on the back of his hand. It was a snake coiled around the number seven. I could sketch it if you want—my high school art teacher always said I had a knack for drawing."
"Is this some new strategy from the Behavioral Analysis Unit? Using good-looking male agents to charm information out of waitresses?" Alice teased as they left the diner.
"It's just a basic interrogation technique," Jack replied with a grin. "Next time we're in a bar with a male bartender, we'll count on you to work your magic."
The playful compliment made Alice smile, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. "With JJ and Hannah around, I doubt I'll have to."
In interactions with strangers, gender often played a subtle but crucial role in breaking the ice. A bit of flattery could go a long way, and Jack had combined that with a subtle financial incentive. He hadn't even specified how much the reward was, yet the waitress had quickly admitted to making the call.
Of course, if the lead panned out, the FBI wouldn't hesitate to pay a few thousand dollars for her help.
Jack handed the napkin with the tattoo sketch to Alice. "Send this to the Little Rock office. It looks like a gang symbol. Let's see if they can identify which group uses it."
(End of Chapter)
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