"Cheers!"
As the night fell and the city lights began to glow, the group gathered at an Italian bar introduced by Rossi.
Jack didn't really understand the bar culture of Italians. To him, this place seemed more like a restaurant than a bar.
Although the menu indeed offered an array of cocktails, it also featured a wide variety of dishes. In their open kitchen, you could even see a pizza oven and a dough preparation area.
Jack rarely drank. The silver flask given to him by those twin Russian girls, though he always carried it with him, was actually filled with a heavily diluted version of "aqua vitae" at 75 proof.
The authentic "aqua vitae" referred to vodka distilled to 96 proof, which was so potent it wasn't even suitable for disinfecting wounds. Jack added a bit of lemon juice to his.
This concoction could be used to keep warm while working in cold regions or as an emergency disinfectant for cleaning wounds. Anyway, it wasn't meant for his own use—the double pain from the alcohol and lemon juice was sure to invigorate anyone instantly.
Jack even had a leather case specially made for that silver flask, carrying a small bottle of Yunnan Baiyao and some instant heart-relief pills inside.
He carried these little items around mainly to cover up his healing abilities. In case anything inexplicable happened, he could always blame it on the "mysterious" Eastern medicine.
As for the source of these medicines, it wasn't too hard to get them.
In the USA, some larger Chinese supermarkets often dabble in a bit of "gray business," usually placing these items near the checkout counter or hiding them in some inconspicuous corners.
If you could read Chinese characters, then congratulations, you've struck gold. You'd find that the boxes with those characters contained everything from cold medicine like "Baijiahei," cephalosporin, tetracycline ointment, Mayinglong hemorrhoid cream, and even instant heart-relief pills.
Back to the topic, as the drinks flowed, the conversation naturally turned to Jack's previous experiences in Wyoming.
Everyone present, including Rossi, had rarely dealt with matters involving reservations.
In the past, this country viewed the West as a lawless land, glorifying cowboy culture. Nowadays, the true lawless lands in this country were down to just two places: the U.S.-Mexico border and the reservations.
The former was a matter of helplessness—this administration's golden-haired president even proposed building a "wall," but considering the length of the border between the two countries, that might only be feasible in some key areas.
As for the latter, it was undoubtedly the result of the entire society's intentional or unintentional neglect.
Jack shared what he could, including the final outcome. He had no intention of hiding anything from his BAU teammates.
Of course, he couldn't directly admit to his involvement in the killings at the drilling camp. However, even Emily, through the "plane crash" incident and their time together, had gained a considerable understanding of Jack's ways.
They were all adults who had been through a lot, especially Emily. Although she was only seven or eight years older than JJ, her past experiences were much richer.
Jack had heard that she once worked undercover overseas, but she never talked about those days. JJ once mentioned unintentionally that despite Emily's carefree demeanor, she hid a heart full of scars beneath her strong exterior.
As for Rossi and Hotch, they cared even less. They were simply genuinely relieved that Jack consistently upheld "procedural justice."
Jack drank a bit more than usual today. Although cocktails originated in North America, he rarely had any. Most of what he knew about Western alcohol came from recipes.
But it seemed the Italians had a special talent for cocktails. Jack tried several Italian-flavored cocktails, such as the "Garibaldi," "Blue Angel," and "Puccini."
These drinks, with their sweet and fruity aromas, were very easy to drink. Before he knew it, he was in a slightly tipsy state.
This made Jack look forward to the possibility of making a few dozen pounds of bayberry wine in a few years if his bayberry tree bore fruit. Well, he could start with mulberry wine and plum wine this year.
His healing abilities could sober him up instantly, but today, Jack particularly enjoyed this slightly tipsy feeling.
Killing Chad Brown was intentional. Although he had done it subtly—tripping him up in an instant and timing it perfectly with the train's arrival—it seemed flawless, with no apparent loopholes.
But it was clear that Hotch had noticed, and Jack noticed that Hotch had noticed too. If Hotch hadn't hesitated, there would have been time to pull Chad Brown back onto the platform.
Jack was growing more and more satisfied with his boss. Hotch could handle things, take the blame, and never passed the pressure downward. He wasn't sanctimonious or rigid—almost perfect.
After a relaxing hot shower, Jack put on his robe and walked into the bedroom, unsurprised to find a beauty lying in his bed.
"Aren't you afraid Emily will find out?" Jack whispered into JJ's ear, inhaling the scent of her hair. If he remembered correctly, JJ and Emily's rooms were adjacent.
"When I went back to my room, she pretended to be drunk..." JJ giggled. While they chatted, Jack began giving her a foot massage, the soreness mixed with a tingling sensation.
They chatted on and off, mostly about some details of the Wind River Valley case. It was clear JJ was more interested in Jack's combat process, constantly trying to get him to talk.
"I swear to God, I wasn't overly tense this time," Jack felt wronged. By now, he knew full well what JJ was trying to find out.
"Hmph, I asked Garcia to pull the records. That Jane Banner sure is a rare beauty."
Sigh, Jack sighed inwardly. Women—sometimes, the kinder you treat them, the more they think you're hiding something.
He curled his index finger and pressed it firmly against the center of JJ's soft foot while holding her leg tightly with his arm, preventing her from pulling away.
"Help! Hahaha, no, stop it, please..."
JJ's entire body began trembling violently as she tried to kick Jack away with her other leg, only to find herself caught in his clutches the next second.
"Come on, think about the timing. When would I have had time to do anything wrong? I was summoned to Maryland by Hotch that very afternoon."
Jack's tone was calm, but there was a hint of helplessness. However, his hands showed no mercy. The "torture" lasted several minutes before he reluctantly let go of those delicate feet.
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