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Medical Center
"See that patient in there?" Jessie Paige nodded toward the room. "Know why he's hurt?"
"Lucky fall," Adam said with a grin. "Caught his esophageal cancer early—silver lining in a bad break."
"…" Jessie froze, taking a deep breath. "He's a truck driver. Got targeted by highway robbers, nearly died. And drivers like him? They're dropping like flies from these attacks."
"So?" Adam smiled lightly.
"We need your help," Jessie said, locking eyes with him. "Your driving skills are unreal…"
"What aren't I good at?" Adam cut in. "But my real superpower? Saving lives."
"Don't you doctors say prevention beats treatment?" Jessie shot back. "Why else would you run free clinics? Instead of patching up these victimized drivers after the fact, you could stop it from happening in the first place."
"Aw, you've been keeping tabs on me?" Adam's gaze sharpened. "Your own digging, or did you peek at the bureau's files?"
"Does it matter?" Jessie frowned.
"Huge difference," Adam said, half-smirking. "If it's the bureau's files, that means they're getting way too nosy about a plain old doctor like me. Not a good sign. I'd steer clear and sic my lawyers on you."
"...It's just me!" Jessie blurted, clearly annoyed.
"Knew it," Adam nodded.
"I'm friends with Kate… you're shameless!" Jessie grumbled. "Fine, let's get to it. We need you to help us nab the crew behind this nationwide highway robbery spree—the ones hitting California."
"Sorry, can't do it," Adam shut her down flat. She opened her mouth to argue, but he waved her off. "Don't bother. I know the playbook.
Option one: go undercover, infiltrate the robbers, gather evidence, bring 'em down. With my driving skills, I'd crush it. But come on—look at this face! Not just nationwide, I'm world-famous, right? How's this mug gonna blend in?
Option two: chase 'em down, force a stop. Also easy with my skills. But here's the catch—they're a crime syndicate. Even if you nab them, your track record says they'll either break out like it's nothing, or you'll cut a deal when you need their dirty work done. Art of the deal, blah blah.
Forget your original 'justice for the drivers' spiel. You'll spin it as 'the greater good,' wipe their slates clean, and let them sip cocktails on a sunny beach. Why? Those dead drivers aren't your family—just numbers you use or toss aside.
Either way, me—the helpful doc—ends up with a target on my back. Maybe I don't die, but my friends and family? They're toast. Tragic as hell. And guess what? Our lives mean squat to you."
"...That's just a fluke," Jessie mumbled, hesitating.
"September '99 Texas massacre, August Cali bombing, July Vegas shooting, June West Virginia mass burial…" Adam rattled off cases like a machine gun.
With each one, Jessie's face darkened. After ten—and Adam looking ready to keep going—her expression went from pitch-black to ghostly pale. Did she know about these? Some, sure. All of them? No way. Especially not how many were tied to botched 'deal art' causing massive collateral damage.
"Those are the big ones. Small-scale stuff? I could list new ones all day," Adam said with a grin. "Still a fluke? Need me to keep explaining why I'm out?"
"Stop!" Jessie snapped, losing it for a sec.
"Easy there," Adam glanced at her. "I'm just saying—catching bad guys is cool, but don't get too invested. And definitely don't drag others in too deep. Think about the innocent fallout first."
"No undercover, no car chases!" Jessie shook her head, took a breath, and looked at him. "Just teach me to drive. That's fair, right?"
"Nope," Adam shook his head again.
"Why not?!" Jessie couldn't take it.
"Because if I teach you, you'll go undercover," Adam laughed. "A stunner like you? Outcome's obvious. I'm not here to train a femme fatale…"
Hmm. Cosplay's a different story, though!
"...Fine, teach someone else then!" Jessie said, barely holding it together.
"Still no," Adam shook his head.
"Why the hell not?!" Jessie barked.
"Your acting's too over-the-top," Adam pointed out. "Way too green for undercover. All this back-and-forth? It's just you settling for plan B.
You know I'd never work for you directly. Teaching you to drive? Maybe. But you also know I'd never let you go undercover after that. So, I bet you've got a rookie with driving talent lined up. You figured I'd say no once, twice, three times, then cave on the fourth because I'd feel bad.
Train this gifted newbie, turn him into an East Coast car god, send him undercover to the West Coast where no one knows him. With skills like that, he'd slip into the crew no problem. Am I close?"
"…" Jessie's face screamed defeat. "You bastard—you are good at everything. Your psych game's as twisted as our profilers'."
"Now that sounded genuine," Adam chuckled.
"You're not gonna train our rookie, are you?" Jessie asked, eyeing him.
"What do your profilers say?" Adam asked, curious.
"They're not sure," Jessie said after a pause.
"I was gonna flat-out say no," Adam grinned. "But it's your first time asking me a favor. Gotta give you some face, or you won't ask me to teach you next time… Plus, I'm kinda curious about this rookie. Bring him by. If I like him, I'll make time to coach him. If not, sorry, no dice."
"Deal," Jessie ignored his teasing and jumped on it. "This stays hush-hush."
"2:30 AM…" Adam gave her the time and place, then walked off with a smile.
This time, it was George's dad—he had to take it seriously. Otherwise, that chubby little firecracker might blow up!
Why agree to Jessie's request? Mostly curiosity about this rookie. If the California crew and this newbie were who he suspected, things could get interesting. Adam didn't mind dipping his toes in for a bit.
(End of Chapter)