On a balcony diagonally across from Jack's building, Kono was similarly positioned behind an Mk12 SPR, scanning the plaza through her scope.
"Anything from your side? You guys should've received those two terrorists' photos by now."
Hearing Callen's inquiry, Jack pulled out his chest-mounted comms tablet and glanced at the screen: two Middle Eastern-looking white males in their forties—one with black hair and a full beard, the other bald with a prominent nose.
"Hang on, I'm looking."
There were quite a few people at the market below. Thankfully, the plaza wasn't that large. Jack ignored the tourists browsing at the booths and focused on those moving.
"Wait—I think I've got them. Kono, confirm for me. You should have a direct line of sight. Near…" Jack glanced at the satellite map on his tablet, "near Aina Lane, carrying a black duffel bag."
Ten seconds later, Kono's voice came through everyone's earpieces.
"Confirmed. Two buyers spotted in the northwest corner of the plaza. Danny and Sam (Hanna), you're closest—they're heading right toward you.
Three… two… one. You should see them now."
"Copy that. Visual confirmed. Moving in."
Danny, pretending to admire the view from a second-floor balcony, tapped Sam Hanna's arm and quickly headed for the stairs with him.
As the team communicated, Jack's scope caught another familiar figure.
"Cheng Ho, Callen—heads up. I've got Comescu, solo, moving past the gypsy jewelry stand toward your position."
"Confirmed. We see him—damn it, he's not carrying anything," Callen's voice was suddenly tight.
Cheng Ho was just as tense. "You think the deal's already done?"
"Then we need to grab the buyers first," Hanna decided without hesitation.
He and Danny had just reached the base of the stairs, and right on cue, came face-to-face with the two suspects.
"Hey fellas, how's it going?"
Danny waved casually. Before they could react, Hanna's massive arm moved like a piston, slamming the bald man's head into a pillar with a crisp thud.
That hit dazed him instantly, while Danny pressed his pistol into the side of the bearded man's torso.
"This way."
The two agents subdued the suspects without alerting nearby tourists, dragging them into a secluded corner and cuffing them to a bench.
"Sit tight." Hanna kept his weapon trained on them while Danny opened the black duffel—packed with stacks of Franklins. His expression darkened.
"Hey—we've got the buyers. The cash is still on them. No sign of the vials."
"Deal hasn't happened yet. Repeat, deal has not happened," Hanna reported quickly.
Jack, watching from above, saw everything clearly.
"Cheng Ho, Callen—you're too close. Pull back. Our priority is the virus."
"Copy. Holding position," Callen replied as he and Cheng Ho stopped beside a shaved ice stand, eyes locked on Comescu a few meters away.
In the center of the plaza, a large bald man approached Comescu and handed him a small metal briefcase.
"That's his bodyguard. The vials have to be in that case," Callen muttered.
"Hold your position. Too many civilians right now—don't make a move yet," Jack said, struggling with his sight picture, trying to avoid the heads bobbing through his crosshairs.
But then chaos struck—as it always does.
Two kids playing tag crashed into the shaved ice stand in front of Callen and Cheng Ho, prompting the vendor to yell.
Comescu turned toward the noise—his eyes locked with Callen's through the crowd.
"I think he recognized me. Jack, do I take the shot?" Callen muttered, not bothering to hide anymore, staring down his mortal enemy.
"No shot," Jack growled through clenched teeth. He had a clear line on Comescu's head… if only that massive Black woman in front of him didn't have a butt like a Kardashian. No telling how much silicone was packed in there.
"Move in now," Callen and Cheng Ho sprang into action, drawing their weapons and spreading out to avoid overlapping lines of fire.
"Dracula Comescu! Don't move!"
The plaza erupted with the crack of gunfire—thankfully, it wasn't aimed at the agents. Comescu had fired into the air to startle the crowd.
Instantly, panic spread. People screamed and fled in all directions.
"Police! Get down! Down!" Callen and Cheng Ho shouted, trying to calm the chaos—but it was useless.
Though mass shootings were a tragic daily reality in the U.S., Hawaii had among the fewest, and people here weren't accustomed to reacting the "right" way—especially not in a crowd.
In the chaos, Comescu and his bodyguard vanished into the crowd. Jack, unable to maintain a good angle with his scope, switched back to binoculars.
Across the plaza, Danny and Hanna had just summoned backup plainclothes HPD officers to detain the suspects when they heard the gunshot.
"What the hell just happened? Jack? Kono? Anybody have a visual?" Cheng Ho shouted.
"Wait—got the bodyguard, behind the food stand!" Kono replied.
Jack's view was clearer and his report more precise. "They split up. Callen—Comescu's heading down the alley at your three o'clock. Cheng Ho—behind the food stand! Watch out!"
Even as Jack finished, Callen took off in pursuit. Cheng Ho turned and pointed his gun at the bald bodyguard crouched behind the food stand.
"Don't move! Five-O!"
"Let me go or she dies!" The bald man grabbed the food vendor—a petite South Asian woman—and used her as a human shield.
"Kono, you got a shot?" Jack asked, frustrated. He had great sightlines but never the right angle—thankfully, Kono on the fourth-floor balcony across from him did.
"Got it," she replied calmly, clearly focusing her aim.
Cheng Ho kept talking to the hostage-taker. "Put the gun down. There's no escape."
"No—you put your gun down or she's dead!" The man pressed the barrel against the woman's back, keeping his head hidden.
"Okay, okay. I'm putting it down. Just don't hurt her, alright?" Cheng Ho started lowering his weapon—drawing the guy's attention and making him inch backward.
BANG!
Kono's shot hit perfectly—right through the trapezius, angled down to embed in his spine, bypassing the scapula.
The man collapsed, releasing the woman. Cheng Ho rushed in, kicked the weapon away.
"Nice shot, cousin!"
Kono exhaled and moved away from her scope—only to nearly gasp aloud.
Jack was leaping across rooftops, clutching his sniper rifle, clearing a six- to seven-meter gap with ease. He grinned and waved at her mid-air.
Her jaw dropped, lips forming an O. He looked like Superman.
Jack, slightly embarrassed, dropped his smile and consoled himself. The world record for long jump is nearly 9 meters—this is nothing.
(Conveniently ignoring that he did it with minimal run-up, holding a rifle, from a 20-meter-high rooftop.)
Not to mention, he landed clumsily on both feet—no roll, no slick slide. Couldn't risk jarring the scope.
Meanwhile, Comescu and Callen had sprinted over 200 meters, knocking over stands and people alike.
Jack had to reposition or risk losing them from view.
"Callen—keep going. Follow my voice. You'll cut him off ahead!"
Callen obeyed, veering as Jack guided him.
"Right… left, right again, then another right—he's on your left now."
Callen rounded the final corner, gun raised.
"Freeze!"
He stepped forward, only three or four meters away from Comescu. His aim was locked on the man's head.
"It's over. Put the case down."
"Nice to see you too, Agent Callen. You ran all this way just to check on an old friend? I'm touched."
Comescu straightened his jacket and tried to catch his breath, trying to regain his composure.
"Don't flatter yourself. I came for sun and sand," Callen retorted.
He nodded at the case. "You want to leave this island alive? Put it down and step aside."
Something in Callen's calm tone seemed to enrage Comescu.
"You! You ruined everything!" he bellowed.
"Right back at you. Now drop the case."
Comescu slowly reached out with his left hand, lowering the briefcase to the ground. But his right hand snuck toward his jacket pocket.
Callen, watching intently, barked, "Hands up! Now!"
"Go to hell!" Comescu snarled—but before his hand even left his pocket—
BANG!
Callen looked up in surprise. Three hundred meters away, Jack stood on a rooftop, waving casually.
His voice crackled in Callen's earpiece.
"You're welcome, buddy."
______
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