The team and I quickly got real-time intelligence on the businessman's residence, and then found out who was inside. Matt used the backdoors in the phones to access the microphones and stream their audio, monitoring movements and access their social media accounts. It turned out that our man was there, and his name was Brian Johnson- a University of Chicago student majoring in Meteorology. At that point, Matt chimed in with some needed information.
"There was a secret transmitter array in Baja."
"Was?" I said.
"Blown up last month, in a raid that the FBI had classified for national security reasons. Something destroyed the entire facility instantly, and the report says that only a single man--our subject--walked out. Doctors at the nearest clinic took him in, but he healed to perfect health within a day and he left."
"And?"
Matt caught my hint. "He was in good health previously, but nothing like the peak-human condition he soon assumed. Open wounds, scar tissue- all healed away within hours."
"He was then seen pushing himself in exercise routines, collapsing, recovering within an hour and then going again. Same with his martial training."
"Where?"
"Cuba. Havana."
"With whom?"
"Our businessman's brother, a mercenary and former Foreign Legion soldier: Raphael Carrano."
Carrano. That name I knew. "He's Squid." I said, referring to one of our enemies, "It's likely that he's already doing what we want to do. Swap to Fed covers. We're busting them."
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