The office contained a treasure trove: financial records, personnel files, photographs of corrupt officials, and a detailed organizational chart. “Ghost, photograph everything,” Jake ordered. “The Feds are going to want this.”
From across the city, reports streamed in. The Thunderdogs had destroyed three labs. The Wild Cards had retrieved financial records. The Iron Wolves had secured four safe houses. But it was Ghost’s interception that provided the most crucial intel.
“Jake, you need to hear this,” Ghost said, holding up the tactical radio. “They’re evacuating their leadership. Emergency extraction protocol. Destination unknown.”
The Serpientes were cutting their losses. It was the outcome Jake had hoped for—victory without a prolonged conflict.
“All teams, begin extraction sequence,” Jake ordered. “Primary objectives achieved.”
As they withdrew, Jake took one final look around El Oro’s office. On the desk lay a photograph of Emma and Maria Martinez, taken from surveillance footage. Someone had written “ELIMINATE” across it in red ink. Jake pocketed the photograph. The war was over.
Three months later, Jake sat in the witness chair of a federal courtroom, wearing the only suit he owned. At the prosecution table, Maria Martinez sat beside FBI agent Sarah Chen. Maria looked healthier, her haunted expression replaced by quiet determination.
“Mr. Morrison,” the prosecutor began, “Can you describe for the jury the evidence your organization recovered?”
Jake’s testimony was carefully scripted, providing intelligence without admitting to specific crimes. The evidence had led to seventeen indictments and the seizure of over $40 million in cartel assets. “We recovered documents showing systematic corruption,” Jake said, “bank records… personnel files identifying cartel members…”
The defense attorney approached. “Mr. Morrison, isn’t it true that you and your associates obtained this evidence through breaking and entering, assault, and destruction of property?”
Jake met her gaze. “I invoke my Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination.”
When Maria took the stand, her testimony carried moral authority. “They told me that if I testified, they would find my daughter no matter where we hid,” Maria said, her voice strong. “But these men, these bikers… they protected us when no one else would.”
In the gallery, Emma sat between Angel and Doc, coloring.
The trial’s outcome was never in doubt. Carlos “El Jefe” Vasquez received life in prison. Three corrupt police officers were sentenced. The Serpientes’ financial network was dismantled.
After his testimony, Jake walked past news reporters shouting questions about vigilante justice. Outside, Maria was waiting with Emma. Emma broke away from her federal marshals and ran to Jake, throwing small arms around his waist.
“Thank you for keeping your promise,” Emma said, looking up at him. She handed him a new drawing, this one showing a little girl and her mother in front of a house with a white picket fence. “That’s our new home,” Emma explained. “Mama says we don’t have to be scared anymore.”
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Jake said, his voice thick. “You’re safe now.”
One year after that stormy night, Jake stood in a family court judge’s chambers, his hands shaking as he signed adoption papers that would make Emma Martinez legally his daughter.
“Congratulations, Mr. Morrison,” Judge Patricia Williams said. “Emma is now legally your responsibility and your family.”..
