Jimmy: "Did you just say 'broker'?"
Peter: "Yeah, an underground intermediary. They handle all kinds of business. I've dealt with him in old cases, but they usually keep things clean with no direct evidence. Otherwise, we would have caught him already. This time we made quite a stir; maybe he heard something and says he has information we need."
Peter drove to Brooklyn and by the side of the Williamsburg Bridge, beside the river, they met the broker Peter mentioned, a bald old man with a white beard.
Peter: "Wait here for me, I'll go have a chat with him."
Jimmy: "Is it safe?"
Peter: "It should be fine."
Jimmy opened the car door, stepped out, and stood by the car, looking around. Peter, after getting out of the car, buttoned up his suit jacket and walked towards the bald man.
Peter stood next to the bald man by his car, chatting. It was a bit too far for Jimmy to hear their conversation; he just looked around. It was a good place for a break by the river, and many people could be seen resting in the distance.
Suddenly, Jimmy noticed someone approaching from a distance. At first, everything seemed normal. But when the person was about a dozen meters away, they reached behind to their lower back and drew a handgun, aiming it in the direction of Peter and the bald man.
Jimmy shouted, "Get down!" His right hand had already reached the holster under his left armpit, drawing the revolver and aiming it at the gunman.
The gunman had drawn his weapon slightly before Jimmy. He had already fired.
By the time Peter heard Jimmy shout to get down, he had already thrown himself to the ground. The broker's reaction was a bit slower, and he was hit by the first shot fired by the gunman. At that moment, Jimmy also fired.
For Jimmy, a dozen meters was still a very high chance of hitting the target. The positions of the gunman, Jimmy, and Peter formed a triangle. He habitually fired two shots, one hit the gunman's chest, and one hit his shoulder, both from the side, but didn't kill him on the spot.
After shooting the broker, the gunman turned the gun towards Jimmy. But before he could fire at Jimmy, he was shot. He pulled the trigger reflexively, but the bullets ended up somewhere unknown.
As the gunman turned towards Jimmy, Jimmy continued firing. The third bullet hit the forehead, and the gunman fell backwards, face up, his handgun flung to the ground. Jimmy, while aiming at the gunman on the ground, moved closer, still shouting: "Peter, are you okay?" "FBI, don't move!"
Peter: "I'm fine! Damn it! The broker's been shot."
Jimmy: "Call an ambulance. The danger has been eliminated."
By the time Jimmy spoke, he had already reached the gunman's side. The shot Jimmy had taken at the gunman's chest from the side must have grazed his heart as the gunman was now heavily bleeding, with blood flowing from his body to the ground.
The shooting had alarmed everyone around, and seeing Jimmy pointing a gun at the person on the ground, they scattered and ran off. Good lord, their sense of safety was commendable. No one came forward to crowd the scene, which saved Jimmy the trouble of controlling the situation.
Jimmy kicked the gunman's weapon a little further away, then turned to look at Peter. Peter was kneeling beside the bald man trying to administer emergency aid while also calling to the broker to stay conscious, but it seemed hopeless. The gunman's marksmanship was truly good; from Jimmy's perspective, it looked like the shot had hit the neck. Peter was pressing down on the broker's carotid artery, but blood was still pouring out, drenching his hands.
A few minutes later, NYPD's police cars arrived, followed by an ambulance. Jimmy showed his FBI badge to negotiate with the NYPD, while Peter had already given up, sitting on the ground with his hands covered in blood.
The medics from the ambulance pronounced both men dead. Peter also stood up, wiped the blood from his hands, and dealt with the NYPD. After everything was settled, he drove away with Jimmy.
Peter: "Jimmy, call Diana and tell them to head back to the office."
Jimmy: "Sure. Peter, did we get anything just now?"
Peter: "A little bit, but he died before he could finish. FXXK!"
Jimmy didn't say anything more. Peter seemed a bit irritable at the moment, and it was not a good time to push his buttons.
Peter and Jimmy rushed back to Federal Square. Jones and Diana had already returned. Peter went first to clean any blood off his hands and clothes, and then they gathered in the conference room.
Peter: "We've got new information today. Jimmy and I went to see an underground broker. He told me that someone contacted him yesterday asking to offload a batch of oil paintings. Yes, a batch. Exact details weren't confirmed because he hadn't arranged for someone to appraise the goods yet.
However, before he could give detailed information, he was killed, and the gunman was taken out by Jimmy. Now the lead has gone cold."
Jimmy: "My fault, the guy fired too quickly. I couldn't react in time and could only do my best to stop him from shooting further."
Peter: "You did nothing wrong. Let's not dwell on that; we need to continue. I noted down the broker's license plate. Jones, get in touch with the NYPD dispatch center and track this plate. I need to know where he came from so we can work backwards, see who he met with, and follow this thread."
Jones: "Will do, contacting dispatch now."
Peter: "Diana, reach out to the NYPD and check the gunman's information, see if we can get anything."
Diana: "Okay."
Peter: "That's it for now. Jimmy, write up a report and submit it. Meeting adjourned."
Jones didn't wait for the dispatch to send the footage; he went straight to the dispatch center. It was more convenient to check it there directly. Of course, Jones himself didn't have the clout to do that, and Peter had to make a few calls from the office to follow the protocol.
Jimmy was also having a rough time. Not only was his break gone, but he also had to write a report overtime, which was frustrating. However, it was strange; Jimmy's luck seemed to be fluctuating again. He had only been in New York for just over two weeks and was already involved in four incidents. Was he about to start an unlucky streak again?
He had considered whether his misfortunes stemmed from being a transmigrator, leading to all sorts of abnormal situations. Now, it seemed likely. Otherwise, why would a murder attempt occur just when investigating an art theft? It made no sense.
Jimmy was scratching his head. If the world indeed targeted him because he was a transmigrator, then dealing with this case just got more complicated. It was only the beginning, with no clear leads, but already two people were dead. How many more would die by the end?
While writing the report, Jimmy let his mind wander. Peter was not having an easy time either. He didn't have as many thoughts as Jimmy, but he was also very worried. The suspect this time was ruthless—directly silencing an intermediary who might have leaked some information was going too far.