"No, actually I'm a coward. During the first trial, when I heard about what happened to the other three witnesses, I got so scared I ran back to New York and hid at my mom's house." Knowing Jack was trying to comfort her, Julie instead spoke candidly about her past. "I was honestly a pretty awful person."
"At least you stood up this time, didn't you? It's a shame you don't like detective novels. I don't know any Joan Doyle personally, or I'd get you a signed book of hers."
Of course, Jack didn't know any Joan Doyle—because she didn't exist. It was a pen name he'd made up while writing those domineering CEO romance novels, a derivative of the placeholder name "John Doe," similar to how that one famous internet legal expert always used "Zhang San."
In various legal contexts, "John Doe" is used to refer to a man whose identity is either unknown or deliberately withheld. The female equivalent is "Jane Doe," and for infants, it's "Baby Doe."
"That's too bad. Actually, my sister Lisa is the real fan of Joan Doyle. She's five years younger than me, my best friend, and the reason I found the courage to stand up again as a witness."
Julie's words surprised Jack. As he stepped over a rotting tree trunk, he turned back and extended a hand to help her over, giving her a slight pull as he asked,
"But you do realize that in a case like this, agreeing to testify means entering WPP—the Federal Witness Protection Program. That means it's going to be hard to see her again."
"I understand. But Lisa has never been like normal kids. I was too young to understand what it meant when my mom first filled out that caregiver questionnaire."
Julie used Jack's strength to step over the trunk, slightly out of breath.
"Autism?" Jack picked up on what she was implying and couldn't help being surprised.
Julie nodded. "My mom's been the one caring for Lisa all this time, but she's getting older, and it's becoming harder for her to manage alone.
I had planned to finish my studies here in Hawaii, save up a bit, and then bring them both over so I could take over Lisa's care."
That only left Jack more confused. "That makes it even harder to understand why you came back. Joining WPP means you won't be able to be with your family for a long time."
"You're right." Julie's voice began to choke slightly. "That's the exact reason I used to convince myself to stay in New York. But one night—it was really late, around 11 PM—Lisa knocked on my door. She usually goes to bed by nine, but that night, she just stood there looking at me. Then she stammered, 'Julie has to go back to Hawaii. Bad people can't be allowed to hurt good people anymore.'"
Jack stopped walking. He felt something soft stir deep in his chest. "If that's the case, then we'd better move a little faster. There's less than two hours until five o'clock."
He didn't say anything like "The FBI will take over the case anyway" or "Allen Bryner won't get away with it even if you don't testify." Since this girl had already made up her mind, he figured it was best to help her fulfill her wish first.
Get Julie to the Honolulu courthouse before 5 PM, let her personally send the bad guy to prison, and worry about everything else later. Maybe it would even be a pleasant surprise when the time came.
But just as Jack had decided to abandon any side objectives and prioritize getting Julie to court, someone decided to chase them down anyway.
The two had trekked through the jungle for nearly half an hour before finally reaching a mountain ridge. Jack checked their position with GPS again and pointed toward a nearby peak.
"According to the map, once we get over that hill, we should be able to see the main road. Let's take a water break. We'll be safe once we get there and can wait for backup."
He set his backpack down, handed Julie a water bottle, then pulled out his satellite phone to call Danny and Cheng Hao to come pick them up.
"Thanks. I just realized I never asked your name," Julie said as she pushed back the sweaty strands of hair at her temples and gave him a bright smile.
"Jack Tavoler, FBI."
Just as Jack was about to press the call button, he suddenly stopped, shoved the satellite phone back into his pack, drew his gun with his right hand, and with his left, pulled Julie behind him.
"They caught up?" Julie stumbled and nearly lost her balance. She crouched behind Jack and waited a long moment in silence. When nothing happened, she leaned toward his ear and whispered, "Is it them?"
"Probably." Jack couldn't help but sigh inwardly. He didn't know whether to call it good luck or bad luck for these two assassins—he was about to let them go, and they just had to come knocking.
He gently pushed Julie's head down, signaling her to stay low behind him. His gun tracked the slight movements among the tropical foliage, and before long, two figures in HPD uniforms appeared on the path, one behind the other.
The one in front had a fresh burn mark on his cheek and kept picking leaves to sniff as he walked. Jack looked at his odd behavior, then back at Julie's sweat-covered face and pieced it together.
The guy clearly had a bloodhound's nose, and because Julie—like him—was the type mosquitoes loved, she had slathered herself not only in repellent but nearly half a bottle of menthol balm.
After sweating through it, the balm had rubbed off onto leaves along the path, and since they'd been heading uphill, they'd inevitably left tracks. That, combined with the scent trail, must've led these two right to them.
"We could just hide," Julie whispered, noticing Jack's intent to take on both attackers himself. She grabbed his arm tightly.
She'd just seen an FBI agent take bullets for her not long ago. She didn't want to witness another one go down.
"Trust me. These guys couldn't beat me even if they came in dozens." Jack holstered his gun, gave her hand a reassuring pat, then pulled her into a clump of broad-leafed jungle plants and started taking off his bulletproof vest.
"Think you can scare them with this?"
Hearing Jack whisper his plan cheerfully, Julie stared at him in horror. Before she could say a word, he shoved a rock into her hand and, as agile as a monkey, disappeared behind a nearby tree.
"Whew…" Maybe it was his looks that made him more convincing. Julie gripped the rock like she was under a spell and started counting in her head.
Five… four… three… two… one.
At the last count, she suddenly burst from behind a cluster of areca palms, screamed, and hurled the rock as hard as she could at the two assassins who were now barely ten meters away.
The assassins flinched at the sudden scream, but the one in front—the guy with the burn—had sharp reflexes. He tilted his head, and the rock flew past him harmlessly.
Seeing the girl just stand there frozen after throwing the rock, the burned man's face twisted into a cruel grin. He drew a silenced Glock, ready to end this disastrous mission.
Neither he nor his partner had yet registered why the previously panicked girl now wore a bulletproof vest.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two gunshots shattered the jungle silence. The assassins cried out in agony as pain shot through their wrists and their Glocks clattered to the ground.
"AAAH!"
Their screams were as loud as Julie's earlier shriek.
At the same moment, they heard creaking overhead—branches straining under weight. Then came a "whoosh" as something tore through the air.
Their final sensation before losing consciousness was a blinding pain at the top of their skulls.
"Come on out, it's done."
Jack landed lightly beside the now-unconscious assassins and waved to the stunned Julie. With a hint of reluctance, he tossed aside the dried tree branch he'd picked up—it was so straight and well-balanced. Such a perfect stick for smacking skulls was hard to come by.
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