"Buy time? Buy time for what?"
Castle was confused. He had been on the verge of tears just moments ago, clutching the ransom proof—three photos of the girls holding that day's Le Parisien. Hearing Jack say the kidnappers won't keep their word nearly sent him into a panic.
"For us to get to Paris," Jack answered flatly.
Whoever had interrogated Roger Hansen clearly had black ops experience.
And when covert operatives got involved, was it really just a simple ransom kidnapping?
Maybe it was the forced rest Jack had made him take. Maybe it was the emotional whiplash of hope and despair.
Either way, for the first time today, Castle's brain actually worked.
He took a deep breath, then said, "I'll call some friends with private jets."
Jack smirked. "No. We're taking a military transport."
—
Since the retirement of the Concorde and TU-144, humanity had lost the luxury of supersonic commercial flights. The fastest trip from New York to Paris had regressed from 3 hours and 20 minutes to the current 8 hours.
Even on a military transport, the time wouldn't be drastically shorter. The only advantage was skipping commercial flights and border security procedures.
Unless Jack could somehow acquire a two-seater supersonic jet, strap Castle to the missile rack, and eject over Paris… they weren't making it in three hours.
But Jack wasn't trying to get there in three hours.
More importantly—he wasn't entering France legally.
—
While Rossi had granted the Fugitive Task Force some international jurisdiction, France wasn't South Korea.
The FBI had official partnerships with South Korean authorities, but even there, they still went through proper diplomatic channels before flying out.
And France?
One of the five permanent UN Security Council members?
Even with strong U.S.-France ties, even under the guise of anti-terrorism, formal authorization would take at least one or two days.
The world may have been fictionalized, but the underlying logic still followed real-world principles.
Even in South Korea, Jack had to be careful—punching criminals with Ma Dong-seok was one thing. But if he had openly fired a gun, it would've caused diplomatic chaos.
If Jack officially entered France as an FBI agent, at best, he'd be forced to work alongside French authorities.
Could they trust the French police to handle this?
Nope.
Paris was drowning in petty crime, and if Charlie Hebdo in 2015 was anything to go by, their police response to major attacks was… lacking.
Legal entry was a dead end.
Jack also had to consider who he was bringing.
This wasn't just about Alexis anymore—Kim was still missing.
Jack vividly remembered Taken. Even if some details were fuzzy, he knew Bryan Mills had slaughtered his way through Albanian gangsters and human traffickers to save his daughter.
And now?
Now they had an unknown wild card—the person who left the note.
Judging by their interrogation techniques, they were just as much of a walking disaster as Bryan.
If Jack entered as the FBI, and things went sideways… he could forget about ever stepping foot in France again. Maybe even Europe.
Thankfully, there was an alternative—NATO.
The U.S. didn't have permanent military bases in France, but temporary deployments were a different story.
And thanks to his ties with JSOC, Jack had access to a little creative transportation.
—
Six hours later.
A C-17 Globemaster III landed at Renaissance Air Base in Metz, France.
Jack stepped off the plane in full military disguise—fatigues, sunglasses, and a fake beard covering the rest of his face.
Castle and Bryan followed behind, similarly dressed.
—
As expected…
Three hours ago, the €15 million ransom was delivered.
And the kidnappers only released Sara Elmasri.
Alexis and Kim?
Nowhere to be found.
—
According to Sara, she had been drugged for most of the ordeal, barely conscious.
By the time she woke up—forced to take the ransom photos—she and the other two girls still hadn't realized they were in Paris.
The one useful detail?
The kidnappers spoke Arabic amongst themselves.
Based on the timeline, she was separated from the others less than an hour before the ransom drop.
Meaning Alexis and Kim were still in the city.
—
"They just wanted money, right? Why not release all three girls?"
Castle was frantic. He had nearly lost his mind when he first heard the news, throwing an absolute fit on the plane—until Bryan knocked him unconscious with a karate chop to the neck.
Even Bryan wasn't as calm as before. His frustration was evident in how he kept disassembling and reassembling his pistol—a Russian SR-1MP "Gyurza" Clay had secured for him.
Jack adjusted his disguise and answered Castle.
"Worst-case scenario? Alexis and Kim were just leverage—used to ensure the ransom went smoothly."
"Best-case scenario? Sara was never the real target."
—
A barracks sergeant led them into a dormitory. Jack pulled three sets of civilian clothes from his bag.
"What do you mean?" Castle grabbed Jack's sleeve, desperate for an explanation. Even Bryan looked at him, waiting for clarification.
Jack pulled his shirt over his head and replied, "If it's the worst-case? Then Alexis and Kim have no more value. The kidnappers can do whatever they want to them."
"If it's the best-case… then the ransom was just a distraction. The real target was either Alexis, Kim, or both."
Castle turned pale.
—
"I reached out to my old contacts. No one reported any direct threats." Bryan frowned, tightening his grip on his pistol.
Castle?
Castle was just a regular author.
His only spy-related experience was once visiting CIA headquarters in Langley for a book research trip.
Which meant…
"Could it be… an old enemy?" Castle murmured, thinking out loud. "Some villain you spared years ago, only to have them come back for revenge?"
Bryan shot him a look.
Jack exhaled, rubbing his temples.
"This isn't a goddamn Bond movie."
______
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